High Heat (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  “Uh-huh. But I like this picture more.” He winked at Garrick as he moved into position, holding Garrick steady with one hand.

  “Fuck. Me too.” Eyes wide, Garrick kept his gaze locked on Rain, and he felt seen in a way that transcended sex. He paused, drinking the moment in for several seconds before gradually lowering down.

  “Damn. You’re bigger than that toy, that’s for sure.” Bigger than Garrick’s fingers as well, his cockhead providing an insistent stretch that forced him to descend more gradually, working Garrick’s cock with little rocks of his hips.

  “Ha. Sweet-talker. Go slow as you need.”

  Still impatient, he pushed through the burn, seeking that moment when everything got bright and wonderful again. Like now. The moment Garrick slid deep enough, broad cockhead producing perfect pressure against his spot. All he could do was moan.

  “Oh. Right...there.”

  “Fuck. You’re so damn hot.” The wonder in Garrick’s eyes was like a drug to Rain, making him preen. He moved more freely now, sliding up and back, each long motion a fresh wave of pleasure.

  “Can... Tell me how it feels to you?” He was intensely curious about Garrick’s side of the experience, not wanting to dwell if his sensations were somewhat diminished, but wanting to know nonetheless. Needing it good for him so badly, he slowed while waiting for Garrick’s response.

  “Feels amazing. Hot. Tight. And...” Garrick trailed off on a moan as Rain tensed his inner muscles, gripping and releasing his cock. “Yeah, show-off, that too. Damn.”

  “Want to move faster.” Knowing Garrick was feeling all the pleasure made him bolder. Needier. More driven to get them both off.

  “Do it. Fuck me.” Garrick rested his hands on Rain’s hips, encouraging him. Stretching, Rain luxuriated in the freedom of this position, how damn good Garrick’s gaze locked on his felt, warm and urgent. Made it so damn easy to ride Garrick fast and hard until they were both groaning. He didn’t want to come yet, but when Garrick moved to stroking his torso, he couldn’t hold back a hungry whimper.

  “Yeah. Like that. Fuck. Touch me. Please.” Nothing was stopping him from reaching for his own cock, but somehow it was so much hotter when Garrick did it.

  “Mmm. Love it when you ask nice.” Chuckling, Garrick ran a single finger down the length of Rain’s straining shaft.

  “For real. Come on. Please.”

  “Gonna come all over me?” Giving in to Rain’s begging, Garrick gripped his cock firmly, matching Rain’s rhythm.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Want it.” Falling forward slightly, he braced himself on Garrick’s broad chest, which made Garrick groan, head falling back.

  “Go hard as you need it.” Voice rough, Garrick sounded as strung out as Rain felt. “It’s good. So good.”

  “Fuck yes it is.” Drinking in the verbal encouragement, he moved faster now, fucking himself harder against Garrick.

  “That’s it. Like that, baby.”

  Simply the sound of Garrick’s voice, so low and gruff, along with the way his face was scrunched up, pleasure contorting his rugged features, had Rain riding the edge, balls tightening, abs and thighs tensing.

  “Close. Are...” He backed off the question at the last moment, wanting Garrick to come with him in the worst way, but also not wanting to pressure him. This alone was so good, so perfect, so right. And it wasn’t simply the physical—Garrick’s solid body under him, hard cock providing exactly the pressure Rain craved—it was the way Garrick looked at him, like Rain was the answer to every deep question he’d ever had. Made Rain feel like he was flying, made it hard to back off the rising pleasure, carrying him higher. “Damn. Need...”

  “Whatever you need. Wanna feel you go.” Garrick stroked his cock faster now, other hand urging Rain on. “Harder.”

  “God. Right...” Fuck. Forget flying. This was a headlong tumble into climax, one he was powerless to stop, moving harder and faster against Garrick, chasing every last good feeling. “Oh, fuck, Garrick. That’s...”

  And then he was coming, intense spurts all over Garrick’s fist and chest that made him dig his fingers into Garrick’s chest, trying not to collapse from the waves of pleasure.

  “Yeah. Yeah. That’s right. Damn.” Garrick didn’t seem to mind Rain’s death grip at all, eyes going hot and needy, as he moved Rain onward with his hands, keeping the fuck and all the amazing sensations going.

  “Do that. Want you...” Summoning the last of his energy, Rain got into it, moving against Garrick as he raked his fingers down Garrick’s chest again, more deliberately now. Garrick was tense under him, even the tendons of his neck straining, and Rain couldn’t resist leaning forward for a well-placed nip.

  “That’s it. Like that.” Garrick stiffened further, face somewhere between pleasure and agony, voice rough. “You... Perfect... Fuck.”

  Oh, that was it. Shuddering, Garrick slowly went slack, all that tension rolling away, leaving them breathing hard together. Rain made a halfhearted attempt to swab at the come on Garrick’s chest with his underwear before he collapsed against him, head settling on Garrick’s shoulder.

  “See? Closer to comatose.” He didn’t even have to fake his yawn because damn that had worn him out in the best possible way. “We did good.”

  “Damn right. Fuck. I didn’t think I was going to be able to... And then it just kinda...happened.” Garrick sounded both amused and amazed.

  “I’m so glad. Not that it’s...like a requirement or something, but damn, I love getting you off.” Rain pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Same.” Groaning, Garrick held him close as their breathing gradually returned to normal. “That...that was what you like?”

  The vulnerability was back in his voice, an uncertainty he seldom had that hit Rain square in the chest. God, the things this man made him feel...

  “Oh yeah. You are what I like. Everything about you.” And then, because that was way heavy, he had to laugh and add, “And the sex doesn’t suck either.”

  “Gee. High praise. And right back at you.” Garrick smiled at him, a tenderness in his eyes Rain wasn’t sure he’d had from anyone before. “You... You’re special, Rain. I hope you know that.”

  “I do now.” His voice was soft, and he had to hide his face in Garrick’s neck, not wanting to reveal quite how much those words meant to him. Garrick made him want, made him dream, things he’d thought weren’t meant to be his. All the things he’d told himself that he didn’t want, now those dreams came crashing back into him, one after another. It was almost too much, that kind of hope requiring a bravery he wasn’t sure he possessed. And he could tell himself those feelings weren’t real, that it was only good sex and friendship, but right then, all he wanted was to hold Garrick close and pretend if only for a while that this was real, that Garrick was his, and that all those impossible things were within reach.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I suppose we have your neighbor to thank for today’s good mood.” Garrick’s father chuckled as he unloaded Garrick’s wheelchair and crutches from his truck. He wasn’t wrong. Garrick was in a good mood, had been for weeks now, maybe more so this morning because Rain had slept over again last night. They’d played another round of Rain’s favorite game and made popcorn and talked late into the night, like kids at a slumber party. Okay. Maybe an adults-only party, because there had been sex too, but that hadn’t been the whole focus of the evening nor was it why he’d been all smiles on the way to his PT appointment.

  “Rain did a personal best in pull-ups this morning.” Because they’d had to park farther back in the lot, he settled himself in the chair with the crutches in their holder.

  “In actuality or is that some sort of newfangled slang?” His dad seemed more amused by Rain’s presence than anything else. He could get a little awkward around Rain, as if he wasn’t precisely sure what to make of him and his role in Garrick’s life.
The way Rain disarmed him was sort of cute as his dad was a stout pine tree normally, unflappable and confident, a natural people person and leader.

  “For real. It was a good workout. We barely made it back before you showed up. Thanks for that, by the way. Rain had to get to work or he would have given me a ride. I’m off today, but he’s on brush hauling duty.”

  “He sure is a helpful...friend. Almost makes your old dad expendable. Along with your friends too. I keep hearing from people that they’ve barely seen you.”

  “Oh, I’m never getting rid of you.” Garrick laughed as they made their way toward the building. “And I’m seeing people tomorrow actually. Birthday party for Jacob out at Linc’s. Great chance for Rain to meet folks and for me to prove that I’m still alive and kicking and not purposefully ignoring anyone.”

  “Ah. Never would have figured Linc for...” His dad shook his head. “Never mind. Hope it’s a good party. You got a present for the birthday? I got some nice belts in last week. Or I could do up a gift card.”

  “Gift card is a good idea. Thanks.” His dad might be old-school Western to the core, but he was trying, and Garrick wanted to give him credit for that. He also wanted to reassure his dad more that Rain wasn’t about to shove him out of Garrick’s life, but then they had to pause to let a group of people pass through the wide double doors of the medical complex and the moment passed because his dad was clapping him on the shoulder, already moving away.

  “See you after your appointment. I’ve got your grocery list and mine, so I shouldn’t get into too much trouble.”

  “See to it.” Garrick waved him away before he checked in to his appointment. Good mood still swirling along with some excess energy from that morning’s outing, he was ready to get to work. But, to his surprise, Stephanie was accompanied by a stuffy-looking dude in a white dress shirt and skinny mustache, and they led him to one of the little private exam rooms in the back of the facility, not the main PT room with all the equipment.

  “What’s up?” His stomach churned, already not liking whatever this interruption to his routine was.

  “This is Alec. He’s from the billing department,” Stephanie explained.

  “Oh, f—crap. Am I behind on copays? Thought I had you guys on autopay.”

  “No, you’re largely caught up.” Alec glanced nervously at Stephanie. “That’s not what we need to discuss. It’s more about going forward. That is, looking at both what your personal goals are as well as what the insurance is willing to cover and what your clinical team recommends.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he admitted. Alec and Stephanie’s uneasy faces were giving him a complex, so he looked away and studied a poster illustrating correct posture for carrying boxes and other bulky loads. “I come. We do the work. I haven’t missed an appointment yet. Goal hasn’t changed. Get me back out there.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Stephanie gave a pained sigh. “I wish, I really wish it was. But what Alec is trying to get at is that he’s been fighting the insurance on your behalf several weeks now. They want to stop covering intensive PT. And we’ve been working with your neurologist to try to get them to reconsider, but we keep running into brick walls.”

  “What does that mean? They’re not going pay for more PT? Why?”

  “The insurance looks at what is medically necessary.” Alec continued to frown, mouth twisted like he’d rather be discussing colonoscopy options than having this conversation with Garrick. “That is, they need the medical team to regularly review your care plan and to state that your condition can be reasonably expected to improve with the current course of physical therapy.”

  “But that should be easy, right? I’m still not at one hundred percent. I don’t get why they wouldn’t think it’s necessary.”

  “It’s the ‘reasonably expected to improve’ part.” Stephanie’s voice was soft but weary. “The whole care team has been worried for a while that your personal goals may not be realistic. I know the neurologist has explained to you the slim chances for total recovery. And your attitude of wanting to defeat those odds is so, so admirable, but—”

  “I’m not here to be inspiring.” Garrick wasn’t sure whether he was madder at her and the rest of his medical team for not believing in him or the insurance company for putting all of them in this position. “If I’m hearing you right, what you’re saying is that the insurance doesn’t think I’m going to have significant improvements from where I am now, so they don’t want to pay for what we’ve been doing. Okay. So I pay out of pocket.”

  “It’s a lot of money. A lot. And we can discuss that option, but the insurance is willing to cover some things on an adjusted care plan—for example, more occupational therapy for things like learning to drive with hand controls, counseling to help with your adjustment, and more limited PT to maintain your current level of mobility. Part of why I didn’t want to hit you with this over the phone or let Alec explain this to you alone is that everyone on your team—our head of PT, me, the neurologist, and the orthopedist—want you to take some time to seriously reflect on what your treatment goals are from here on out.”

  “You said I was making improvements. As recently as a few weeks ago, you said you’d seen some progress.”

  “Yes. Incremental progress. You are way stronger than when you started. Your balance has improved as your hip and ankle strength has improved. Your initial breaks have healed about as well as could be expected. You’re so much better at navigating with the crutches now. The problem is that the spinal injury is going to have a lasting impact, one that all the therapy in the world can’t erase. I wish it could.”

  “But it was incomplete. Everyone said it was best-case scenario in a lot of ways.” The urologist’s words about luck rang in his ears, along with that doctor’s skepticism for him giving up the crutches. Fuck luck. Fuck it hard. Did no one believe in him? It’s almost been a year. That was what the neurologist had said at their last appointment, like Garrick didn’t know that, like he could forget, like that mattered when he was willing to work as hard and as long as it took.

  “Incomplete doesn’t mean nonexistent.” Stephanie’s eyes were shiny, as if she were working to not cry, and Alec didn’t look a lot better. “And it doesn’t mean you can’t have a full life—”

  “I have a full life. One I’m enjoying greatly at present other than the whole not smoke jumping thing. I don’t need a motivational speech here. What you guys are really saying though is that I’m not going back to work. And that’s not simply an insurance decision, but the whole team believing it.”

  Both Alec and Stephanie slowly nodded.

  “Maybe a second opinion...” Once when he was eight or nine, he’d jumped farther out into the deep end than he’d been planning, and he’d had this terrifying moment when the side of the pool seemed so very far away. He hadn’t been at all sure of his ability to make it to the wall and had started to sink lower in the water. This felt like that sort of moment, everything hanging in the balance, him needing something to cling to, even the idea of more doctors, more tests. Something.

  “Yes. You can go back to Portland, to the medical school or even to Seattle or San Francisco. That’s absolutely an option. And you should probably pursue that before committing to paying out of pocket for anything. But I’ve done hours of research on your case, hoping to find something I could point you toward, some device or procedure or therapy that would get you the breakthrough with mobility that you’re wanting.”

  “I...” His ears rang, his voice echoing like it was coming from an empty tunnel. He’d done the same research. He’d had doctors in Portland. But damn. He needed that life buoy, could feel his panic rising, throat closing and palms sweating.

  “Do you need a minute? Some water?” Stephanie made a shooing motion at Alec, who bolted from the room. Putting her hand on his arm, she leaned forward. “This is a lot. I know. We don’t have to
try and do a full session after hitting you with this, but maybe some stretching and some hydrotherapy would help?”

  “Maybe.” Swallowing hard, he accepted the water Alec returned with moments later. It wasn’t either of their faults, and Stephanie and him, they went back well over six months now. She might be his healthcare provider, but she was also something of a friend. He didn’t like seeing her so upset on his behalf. And there was absolutely nothing that would be served by storming out or raging.

  So, he let her dismiss poor Alec, who looked relieved that Garrick wasn’t making a scene, pale skin blotchy and head bobbling as he made his escape. And then he let her lead him to a quiet corner in the main therapy area, put him through some basic stretches before she took him down to the hydrotherapy area. Usually they’d do more exercises in the warm pool, hard work with the weight belts or range of motion moves, but today Stephanie went easy on him, using the first available excuse to leave him to do his own thing in the empty pool, no other people around.

  Nominally, he was supposed to be doing easy laps, but instead he floated aimlessly, staring up at the ceiling lights until his eyes blurred. This was what he’d forgotten that day he’d panicked in the deep end—floating until a solution appeared was always a valid option. Except unlike then when a lifeguard had spotted him and jumped in with assistance to make it to the side, no answer was forthcoming, no rescue from his internal flailing.

  What if I never skydive again? He ducked under the water, but the thought followed him down. He’d known for months now that that was what the neurologist believed. No one had lied to him other than himself, his daily mantra that he was going to prove every one of the doubters wrong. Fuck the whole thing about function regained by six months predicting overall prognosis. He’d had the appointments, heard the facts and projections, and chosen to maintain his unshakable belief that he was going to succeed. Sheer determination had carried him thus far. It couldn’t let him down now. He wouldn’t let it.