Loving Edits

by Mickie B. Ashling

  Chapter 22

  SAMUEL let himself in around seven-fifteen with the key they’d provided him and was surprised to find Tono showered, shaved, and pacing in the living room. Ordinarily, he and Mick would still be in bed.

  “Good morning,” Tono greeted him formally. Samuel was in the process of removing his windbreaker, and he paused to respond, noting the worried look on the Spaniard’s face.

  “What’s up, my brother?”

  “We didn’t have a very good night. Mick’s being very emotional.”

  “I wish I could say it will pass, but it won’t. Expect this more and more often,” Samuel replied. “It’s a part of the disease,” he continued, removing his jacket and hanging it up in the hall closet.

  “The crying?”

  “Yes. The mood swings, the feelings of despair. It will only get worse.”

  “¡Coño!”

  “It is what it is, mon.”

  “I’ll be upstairs at Paul’s apartment if you need me,” Tono said on his way out the door. “Working,” he added, almost defensively.

  Samuel raised his eyebrows and wondered what that was about. He walked into the master bedroom and found Mick in bed, sitting up amidst an array of pillows and staring out the window.

  “Good morning, Mick,” Samuel said cheerfully, noting the laptop lying on the floor in two pieces. He bent down to retrieve it. “Busy night?”

  Mick grunted but refused to engage. He was still mired in his misery, hurt and confused by Tono’s rejection last night. They’d slept apart in the king-sized bed, a sure sign that things were deteriorating. It was the first time since they’d met that he’d been unable to sway Tono or arrive at some middle ground.

  “Shall I get your bath ready?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Would you like a cup of coffee first?”

  “Whatever.” Mick shrugged. “I’m not in a very good mood.”

  “I see that. Well, it’s time to snap out of it.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I’m not making light of your situation, Mick, but your mindset can destroy you far quicker than ALS. I’ve had patients who’ve fought it all the way, losing precious time in denial or sulking and brooding. You’re an intelligent man with a lot to live for. Accepting the inevitable, with as much grace as you can muster, while trying to make the most of the time you have left, is far more productive and less draining on your mental health.”

  Mick snorted. “That’s easy for you to say from your standpoint. I don’t see you singing ‘Oh Happy Day’ as you try wheeling yourself around.”

  Samuel looked at him kindly. “You think I’m being cold and heartless, but the reality is that you can continue to have a productive life through the course of this illness. You will never lose any of your cognitive skills, and that is a huge plus. Unlike Alzheimer’s or other diseases like cancer where you’re bombarded by chemotherapy and radiation, ALS is relatively pain-free.”

  “If you don’t count the mental pain and anguish,” Mick spat out.

  “And that’s the reason why you need to crawl out of this hole; take the depression monster by the neck and ride the fucker for all it’s worth. You’ve got shit to do, mon, places to be, stories to tell. You can’t let this rule your life and destroy what little time you have left, whether it’s three or five or ten more years, Mick. You want to spend them sitting in bed, moping?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Spoken like a true fighter,” Samuel intoned. He carried Mick to the bathroom and positioned him so he could pee standing up, a huge mental hurdle for most people. Performing bodily functions normally was important in helping patients retain some sense of dignity and confidence. When that was done, Samuel removed Mick’s pajamas and helped him into the huge tub with the built-in Jacuzzi. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature, and sat on the bench beside the tub, waiting for it to fill. “Why don’t we do something different today, Mick? You want to go shopping? Obviously, you’re in need of a new laptop.”

  “Shopping? How?”

  “What do you mean how? You’re not dead yet, kiddo. The only thing holding you up is wheels, and I’m going to provide them. Shall we go downtown, burn some plastic, and have lunch?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course. Life needs to go on, Mick.”

  “Let’s do it, Samuel. I’ve wanted to buy a new laptop anyhow, so I guess hurling it against the wall was sort of Freudian.”

  “I wouldn’t make a habit of it,” Samuel chuckled. “I’m not sure Tono appreciated your little tantrum.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “Come on, buddy,” Samuel reproached, “the man is crazy in love with you.”

  Mick’s eyes filled with tears immediately. “Is he?”

  “Of course he is, without a doubt.”

  “How long will I be able to keep him, Samuel? Nursing me is going to get ugly, and the last thing I want is for him to stay with me out of pity. I don’t want him to be subjected to my daily requirements, which will get more and more disgusting. How romantic is wiping your lover’s ass or clearing a breathing tube?”

  “You’re projecting your own fears on him, Mick. From where I stand, Tono doesn’t have any problems caring for you. He’s asked a million questions about ALS, and never once did I get the feeling that he couldn’t take on this task. Tono may surprise you and even exceed your expectations. You shouldn’t be so grim.”

  “I can’t help it, Samuel. I hate being dependent on anyone.”

  “Nobody likes it, Mick, but you’re still far from the stage you’re talking about. I would try and live each day at a time and not worry about an uncertain future. How long have you guys been together?”

  “A little over six years.”

  “That’s longer than a lot of marriages these days. If he were going to bail, he would have done it as soon as you were diagnosed.”

  “He’s giving up so much for me, Samuel. I don’t want his life to turn to hell because mine has.”

  “Has it occurred to you that the only thing he wants right now is to be with you? Whatever sacrifice you think he’s making is worth it to him, and isn’t it his choice to make? I don’t think you realize how much he loves you, mon. I see it in his eyes― it’s a beautiful thing.”

  “I love him so much, Samuel,” Mick said, teary-eyed. He knew he was turning into an emotional wreck on top of everything else and wanted it to stop.

  “The feeling is mutual, Mick. Now, whatever the argument was about, fix it, and get on with your life. You have much to live for.”

  “I do.”

  “Let’s start with getting you ready. I want you to be the hottest guy I’ve ever wheeled around.”

  “Why, Samuel. You aren’t considering moving over to the dark side, are you?”

  Samuel’s laugh was loud and hearty. “No, thank you. I like my women far too much.”

  “It’s just as well, because my dance card is full.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m turning on the jets, so you can relax for a few minutes while I go and get you a big cup of coffee. Does that sound good?”

  “It sounds great, Samuel. Thank you.” Mick smiled for the first time that morning.

  “You’re welcome, mon.”

  PAUL finished reading Tono’s revised first chapter and put the manuscript down on the table. “This reads much better.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” Paul nodded. “I’m glad we changed the point of view. I think I can work with this.”

  “Good,” Tono exhaled, relieved beyond measure. He rubbed his face with both hands. “I’m tired.”

  “Worked on this all night, did you?”

  “Mick and I had a fight.”

  “What? Why?” Paul leaned forward, concerned.

  “None of your business,” Tono shot back, sorry he’d said anything.

  “Okay. You brought it up, so I thought you might want to talk about it.”

  “No. Well, yes, maybe.”<
br />
  Paul laughed gently. “Hey.” He reached for Tono’s hand. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

  “I’m having a hard time dealing with some things he said. Some of Mick’s ideas are very unconventional.”

  “And you’re finding this out just now? Mick’s always been full of surprises. I think that’s part of the reason I love him. I’m never bored when he’s around.”

  “How can you still love him when he’s with me?”

  “I’ll always love him, Tono,” Paul replied, looking him straight in the eye, almost daring him to say anything.

  “You’re both a little crazy, you know that?”

  “Why?”

  “Because he loves you too.” Tono frowned. “He says he loves you, but he’s in love with me. I’m not sure I can deal with this,” Tono stated, getting ready to leave.

  “Don’t go.” Paul reached for Tono’s hand and pulled him back. “Maybe I can explain.”

  “What’s there to say? Where I come from, two people in love don’t have room for a third person.”

  “He doesn’t love me that way, Tono.”

  “I don’t understand it,” Tono said. “There’s a lot going on here.”

  Paul stood and walked around his desk. He put both hands on Tono’s chest and looked up at the Spaniard, losing himself in the pools of soft toffee. “You don’t get the attraction you and I share either, do you?”

  “No.” Tono chewed on his lower lip, resisting the temptation to crush Paul in his arms. “You’re not a nice person, Pol. I’m not sure I even like you.”

  “I’m very nice,” Paul purred, standing on his toes and leaning forward to lick Tono’s mouth. “Let me show you how nice I can be.”

  Tono hissed a protest but was silenced by Paul’s bruising kiss.

  Chapter 23

  PAUL was drowning in the kisses that lit him up from the inside out. He could hear Tono muttering words in Spanish, obscenities no doubt, but they were wildly exciting. Paul was overwhelmed by Tono’s strength, by the large hands that grabbed his ass and dragged him closer. He could feel Tono’s erection through his chinos as it pressed hard against his own rigid cock, which leaped to attention the minute he felt the first touch. Tono was nibbling on the soft skin around Paul’s neck, closer and closer to his ear, somehow knowing that this was one of his weak spots. The whimpers that escaped his throat confirmed it when he felt Tono’s hot tongue licking at his earlobe, followed by puffs of air against the wet skin. His appreciative moaning pushed Tono into high gear because the Spanish words tumbled out of his mouth in-between the torrid kisses.

  “Tono, please,” Paul begged, trying to move over to the sofa on one side of the room, but Tono picked him up and covered his mouth with hungrier kisses. Paul encircled him like a koala, hanging on to the hard body that was driving him crazy. He knew this was wrong on so many levels, but he couldn’t think straight once the kissing started. All he wanted was to feel that hot mouth on his cock, which was aching for release. “Suck me, God, I need you to get me off.” Paul’s voice cracked, which was fitting, considering he was acting like a teenager instead of a grown man in his thirties. He hadn’t been this excited in years, and although he wanted to retain control, the situation was rapidly spiraling away from them and both men felt it.

  Tono shoved Paul up against the wall, seemingly angry for giving in to the sudden passion that flared between them. There was no tenderness in his kisses, only a raging need to possess. Tono’s aggression made this encounter even more exciting, igniting every caveman fantasy Paul had ever entertained. He tugged at Tono’s shirt, which had buttons down the center, fumbling to part the soft fabric so he could run his hands over the furry chest straining against the cotton. His fingers locked up on him and he was all thumbs, graceless and bumbling, in keeping with the juvenile need that had taken over his senses. He tore at the shirt, oblivious to Tono’s outrage. He could buy him ten more―twenty for that matter―but right now he needed to feel the hard mounds, to run his fingers through the golden chest hair. Paul nuzzled Tono’s neck, inhaling the combination of soap and a woodsy European aftershave that was unfamiliar to Paul, overshadowed by the powerful scent of a man in heat. Pheromones had kicked in big time, and Tono exuded them from every pore, which only served to ratchet up their mutual desire. “Fuck me, Tono, God, just do it,” Paul moaned, sounding desperate to his own ears. His breathing was ragged, drawing a corresponding growl from the Spaniard, who tilted his hips and began to rut against him.

  Paul wanted Tono to rip his clothes off and fuck him into oblivion. He pushed away from Tono and dropped to the floor, frantically struggling with his belt and his own button and zipper. He toed off his loafers and threw his pants across the room once he removed them. He stuck his thumbs into the elastic around his waist and pulled off his silk boxers, well aware that his cock was throbbing and fully erect. He saw Tono’s eyes widen and zero in on his thick shaft.

  “Coño,” Tono hissed at the sight of Paul’s partially nude body as Paul pulled his shirt over his own head, eliminating the issue of buttons altogether. Their eyes were locked in on each other. Paul broke away from the intense glare and focused his attention on Tono’s magnificent chest covered with the soft curls, which were suddenly attractive as hell. Tono unbuttoned his pants with one hand and pushed them down his thighs, releasing his cock, which sprang forward, free of underwear.

  “Motherfucker,” Paul whispered, “you’re going to kill me.”

  “Condom?” Tono’s smile was wicked.

  Paul did a slow perusal of the Spaniard, whose commanding presence was nothing short of spectacular. His thighs were huge and contoured perfectly, statue perfect and worthy of adoration. Tono’s stomach was flat and had a soft line of hair running from his navel down to the dark thatch spread out in a riot of untamed curls, another pet peeve of Paul’s that seemed insignificant right now. His eyes were drawn to the huge cock that was in keeping with everything else about the sumptuous man who vibrated with sexual power.

  “Dear God,” Paul moaned and sank to his knees in front of Tono. He buried his face in the prickly hair, opening his mouth when Tono nudged it with his tumescent cock. He tasted the clear fluid leaking from Tono’s slit, slurping at it with the utmost pleasure, loving the man’s taste on top of everything else. Tono began to fuck Paul’s mouth, snapping his hips against Paul’s face, encouraged by Paul’s obvious ease in accepting his impressive shaft down his throat without gagging. Paul hefted Tono’s balls, which were large and heavy, kneading them expertly, causing the Spaniard to cry out and thrust even harder.

  Paul pulled his mouth away, breaking the sucking motion with a loud pop; he reached up, yanking his desk drawer open so forcefully it broke away from the stops and fell to the hardwood floor in a clatter. He searched for the travel size packets of lube and the condoms he had lying around in every room of his apartment, almost crying in relief when he found what he was looking for. He rolled the condom on Tono’s cock while the man watched intently, moaning in appreciation of his efforts. Paul smeared Tono with a healthy dollop of lube and wiped the remainder around his own asshole as he fingered himself to get ready for the invasion. It had been a very long time since he’d bottomed, and he knew he would be paying for this moment all day, but right now, the idea of that huge cock up his ass drove intelligent thought out the window. He turned away from Tono and got down on all fours, lifting up his butt in silent offering, knowing he looked wanton and needy. He held his breath until he felt Tono grab his hips forcefully and nudge his opening with the fat, spongy head.

  “Do it, you bastard. Fuck me!”

  He closed his eyes and bit his lips to keep from crying out when he felt the first thrust, only able to hold back the scream through sheer willpower. He lost the battle when Tono poked his gland, and Paul heard himself keening as the room filled with the odor of his spunk as it splashed on the floor. Tono continued to plow into him with the precision of a pneumatic drill, trancelike and mouthing off wor
ds in Spanish that Paul couldn’t understand. Tono was on fire, and his passion was contagious, shocking Paul into an erection again, minutes after his initial release.

  Tono’s hand snaked around his right hip to curl strong fingers around his resurrected cock, shafting it in rhythm with his own thrusting. Paul could feel Tono’s hot breath on his neck and his full weight on his back as he changed the angle of his movement, pulling Paul up to his chest, never losing the connection. Paul was overpowered by Tono’s strength, imprisoned in the iron grip that held him smashed up against the ceaseless pounding. He’d lost all capacity for rational thought and could only think about one thing― coming again― and he did, in a sputtering mess, white heat overflowing on Tono’s hand as the Spaniard exploded into the condom, filling it with hot semen, groaning out words that sounded almost prehistoric.

  “God almighty,” Paul huffed out, and they collapsed on the floor. Tono felt like a bear on top of him, heaving and panting, two hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight pressing him into the hardwood floor. Paul was sure his spine was broken in several places, and he would probably never walk again, but he was smiling like the proverbial Cheshire, reveling in the pleasure that continued to zing throughout his body. He hadn’t been fucked like this in years, and it was heavenly.