by Trina Lane
Javier dug his fingers into the muscles of Mal’s back as his lover jammed his erection in deep once more, grinding Javier against the mattress. There would be bruises on his thighs in the morning, but Javier would wear the marks with pride. Malaki’s thrusts set Javier’s insides on fire to the point that he feared he’d spontaneously combust if there wasn’t some kind of release soon. Javier cried out, his ass spasming in unparalleled delight as Malaki fucked him.
“Soon, Javi.”
“Do it. I’m so close. I can’t believe you’re about to make me come like this. I haven’t even touched my dick.”
Malaki slid a hand beneath Javier’s neck and lifted his head, colliding their lips in a carnal kiss unlike any he’d experienced before. He groaned, and Mal did too, both dueling for dominance that neither were willing to give up anytime soon. Malaki’s thrusts started to get less purposeful and more erratic. Javier loved it. Loved how even in this position he had the power to make his lover lose control. He clenched the muscles in his ass as tightly as he could, knowing that in his experience the vise-like grip often sent him tumbling over the edge of oblivion.
“Give it to me, Mal. I want to feel your cum shoot from your cock like a geyser.”
“Oh, fucking Christ!”
Malaki shuddered and moaned above him. Their gazes found each other and locked. Mal’s skin drew taut over his sharp cheekbones and his lips pulled back to expose bright teeth.
“I’m coming.”
Malaki shoved his cock deep inside Javier’s ass, filling him deeper than ever before. Javier couldn’t hold back his moan, but any discomfort no longer mattered as above him, Mal threw his head back, his seed flooding the condom as he came. Javier wrapped his arms around Mal and held on, his breaths gasping from his chest and the valve inside him finally released, and as tears of joy spilled from his eyes, he gave a great cry of completion.
Chapter Thirteen
Malaki clicked open an email and frowned. The screen went a little blurry and his ears rang.
“What the hell?”
He let out a slow breath as nausea rolled through him like a freight train.
“You okay, boss man?” Bethany asked.
“Umm, not really. Is my next patient here yet?”
“Nope. You don’t look so good.”
Mal jumped up and ran for the bathroom. He promptly lost every ounce of the protein shake, strawberries, and almonds he’d just finished for breakfast. As soon as he stood, the room spun and he grabbed the wall. Another wave of nausea swamped him and down he went. This time there was just bile and dry heaving. Just then his stomach gurgled and he had to do some quick maneuvering before he had a serious problem to contend with.
“Oh, fuck.”
Several minutes later he made his way back toward his office. As soon as he sat down at his desk, it felt like Niagara Falls was pouring from his forehead. He popped a mint from his drawer into his mouth and laid his forehead on his desk.
Bethany handed Malaki a cool cloth. “Carrie had a cancelation and took your patient. I’ve already started calling the rest of your schedule. You are going home.”
“I can’t. I have so much to do today.”
“Malaki, you have sick days for a reason.”
“But the patients are counting on me too—” He grabbed his trash can and dry heaved several more times.
“Counting on you to transmit the plague to them? Go. Home.”
He nodded as he continued to lean over the can. “Just let me get the room to stop spinning first.”
“Do you want me to call Javier? I don’t think you should be driving.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes. I don’t know where this came from. I was perfectly fine when I woke up this morning. Didn’t feel anything off with Mr. Bader.”
“Well, that’s what happens with stomach flu. It can happen really fast.”
He used the cloth to wipe his still dripping forehead. “Yeah. Thank you for everything. And please tell the rest of the patients that I’m really sorry.”
“I’m sure they understand. It happens to all of us.”
Malaki worked to get a few more things cleared off his desk while trying to evaluate if it was safe to leave. It took him twice as long to get home since he had to stop three times and find a bathroom. As soon as he pulled into the parking lot of his condo, he let out a breath.
“Thank fucking God.”
He trudged up the steps to his front door. As soon as he got inside, he pulled out his phone and clicked on his text icon for Javier.
Went home sick. Stay away for your own safety.
He changed out of his work clothes and put on some ratty old sweats and a T-shirt. He heard Javier’s ringtone go off in the living room.
“What’s wrong? You’re never sick!”
“Stomach virus or something. Just started throwing up at work.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Very funny, asshole.”
“Sorry, is there anything I can do?”
“No, I just wanted to warn you away so you don’t catch whatever hell has befallen me. How’s your day going so far? What did we eat last night?”
“Umm, grilled salmon with that sweet and spice rub.”
“Oh yeah. That was good. You’re feeling okay, though.”
“Yeah, babe. I’m fine. Look, I left some sparkling water there. Get a glass, relax on the sofa, put on a movie and do not remote into the office. I’ll call and check on you at lunch time.”
“Mmkay.” He curled up on his bed. “I might take a nap. I feel like I got hit in the gut by a hundred and four mile an hour fastball.”
“Now I know you’re really sick. You never nap.”
He closed his eyes and started to drift off.
“Love you, Mal.”
“Love you, too,” he said, already drifting off.
* * * *
Malaki blinked and groaned as the light filtering through his bedroom window shot through his eyeballs, triggering a massive headache. “Fuck me.”
His body ached as though he’d gone thirty rounds in an octagon, and his clothes felt as if he’d walked twenty miles through a swamp. It seemed the only thing that didn’t hurt was his ears, and they picked up sounds coming from outside his bedroom. “What the hell?”
Well, if someone’s here to murder me, at least they’ll put me out of my misery.
His bedroom door was pushed open and in walked Javier, carrying a tray.
“Hey, I brought you some toast and bubbles. How are you feeling?”
“I thought I told you to stay away.”
“You did. I ignored you.”
Malaki scooted up so he could prop his back against the headboard. Javier set the tray across his lap and he couldn’t decide if the offering was the best thing he’d ever seen or the antichrist.
Javier whipped out a laminated card with a bunch of printed faces on it. “Now, on a scale of happy face to tears how bad is your pain? Oh no, judging by that face, we’ve reached Defcon level two of the grumpiness scale.”
“Two? What’s level one?”
“One is when you’re throwing dishes at my head and telling me to get the fuck out.”
He sighed. As bad as he felt, he didn’t want to be the guy who took it out on the people around him. He picked up the card and the dry erase pen Javier held out to him then drew a skull and crossbones.
“Hmm, I see. Well, I have just the thing to make you feel better.”
Javier leaned over and kissed Malaki on the forehead. Amazingly enough, he did feel incrementally better. He reached out and took Javi’s hand. “Stay?”
“Always. Try to have a little snack. I’m going to change and then we can cuddle in to watch a movie or something.”
Javier stripped his shirt off and shucked his cargos that he’d worn to work. Mal might have felt like death, but clearly the end wasn’t upon him yet, because he couldn’t look away from his lover’s body as he walked across the
room and rummaged through the drawer where he kept a few changes of clothes. Normally he never focused on Javier’s scars, but, for some reason, today they stood out like neon signs. Instantly, he felt so much worse for being such a baby about a little flu bug.
“Thank you for bringing me the snack and everything, but I really need a shower and to get out of this bed.”
“Okay. Need any help? Have you taken anything lately?”
He shook his head. “You know NSAIDs wreck your gut and I’ve had enough problems with that today. But you’d be a lifesaver if you’d brew me a cup of willow bark tea and get some hot and cold compresses ready.”
“Done.” Javier helped Mal out of bed and made sure he was steady on his feet. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to urgent care or something?”
He took Javier in his arms. “I’m sure. Just a little virus bug. Gotta let it run its course.”
“Okay, but if your head starts spinning in circles and you talk in tongues, we are reevaluating the situation.”
“Fair enough. Now back away before I get you sick.”
“Hey, you pulled me in!”
“I know. I just couldn’t help myself.”
Javier pulled Malaki down and rubbed their noses together. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that. And for the record, being here to make sure you’re taken care of is worth the risk.”
Jesus, he didn’t know what magical penny he found to land a man like Javier, but as sucky as today had been, he was glad that life had shown him a way to remind him of that.
Malaki felt marginally better after his shower and getting into some clean clothes. He stepped outside his bedroom and detected the scent of the tea drifting from the kitchen. He peered into the pass-through and saw Javier doing a little salsa dance to some song playing from his phone. Javi never expressed his heritage outwardly very often. Despite him being fluent in Spanish, Malaki had never really heard him say more than a phrase or two occasionally. Or if he was feeling particularly sentimental sometimes, the tones of Spanish guitar music could be heard flowing through his apartment.
“Why is that?”
Javier spun around and gasped. “Holy shit, you scared me.”
That was saying something, because when they’d first met, Javier had seemed almost hypervigilant of his surroundings. Much like Malaki had seen with service members when he’d worked in San Diego.
“Sorry. I was having a conversation in my head. Now I’ll include you.”
“Okay?”
“I was just wondering why you don’t let out your heritage more often. I mean, I know you’re half Mexican.”
Javier carried over the mug of tea. “I don’t purposely hide it. I speak Spanish when needed, and if someone asks, I tell them about mi familia. Or at least the basics of where I come from.”
“You know if you ever want to talk about what really happened with your family, you can.”
Javier came around the post to stand next to Malaki. “I know. I guess I just figured each person is only allowed one sob story per lifetime. I moved on from their abandonment a long time ago, and besides, they’re all dead or gone now so it’s not like some magical reunion is possible.”
“Wait, what?”
“Si, mis abuelos died not long after I finished college and I was notified that my mother went back to Mexico after their deaths. She still had family there. I never saw my father again after he left, so I have no idea where he is or what happened to him.”
“So your mother is Mexican and your father is American?”
“Partly right. My mother was born and raised in Guadalajara. When my grandparents came to the US on a work visa in the mid-nineties, she was sixteen. She was introduced to my father, who was Puerto Rican and worked for the same manufacturing engineering company as my grandfather. They were married just after she turned eighteen and I arrived a year later.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but did she marry your father for a green card?”
Javier shook his head. “I was told that part of the arrangement was my father wouldn’t marry her until she was naturalized.”
“So…your mother held dual citizenship, but chose to return to Mexico?”
Javier shrugged. “There was nothing to keep her here.”
“You?”
He shook his head. “Shortly before I finished my bachelors, I came out, and them being proper pious Catholics, they all disavowed me.”
Malaki took Javier into his arms. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to start a conversation that went down this path. For being an event that probably had destroyed his world at the time, Javier spoke about it very matter-of-factly. He might feel it qualified as a sob story, but Malaki just saw it as another layer that made up the man he loved.
“You know, you never really talk about your family much, either. I mean, you talk to them all the time, but not really about them.”
“Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“So glad to feel validated.”
“Smartass.” He took Javier’s hand and led him over to the sofa. Malaki set his tea on the table so they could curl up together. “Okay, so what do you want to know?”
“Well, I have always wondered how a family of Samoans ended up in Washington.”
“Oh, that’s a boring story. My parents were both raised in America Samoa. My dad really didn’t want to work in the tuna cannery. And other than working for the territorial government, there aren’t any real prospects for success, so he joined the Army during Vietnam. He managed to survive and they both earned their citizenship. After he was discharged, they settled in Washington.” He chuckled. “He always said that he never wanted to see another Asian jungle again. So they moved to the most opposite climate they could think of.”
“The Pacific Northwest?”
Malaki shrugged. “At least it wasn’t Minnesota. And apparently, other than Hawaii and California, it has the biggest population of Pacific Islanders.”
Javier picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. “Good to know. Oh, look, Mean Girls is on. And even though I hate it, I’ll let you watch because it’s your guilty pleasure and you’re sick.”
He slid down and rested his head on Javier’s lap, not really caring what show his boyfriend put on, because chances were he was going to fall asleep again. Malaki sighed when Javier started to rub his shoulder and biceps.
“Have I told you lately how much I love your muscles?”
“Mmhm.”
“So you know if you just lie here getting fat and lazy, I’m going to leave you, right?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking of maybe a life change. How would you feel if I shaved my head, got a bunch of ink and started wearing tutus?”
“That’s nice.”
Javier chuckled. “You really are out of it, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m ignoring your ridiculous ass. You say something that I think might be reasonably valid and I’ll give you a real answer.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop messing with you. You just drink your tea and relax. Enjoy your show.”
“I always did like the part where Regina says she has ESPN.”
“That’s Karen!”
Malaki snickered. “Yep, you totally hate this show.”
“Shut up, Typhoid Mary.”
* * * *
Javier peeked over his shoulder from his spot at the counter at Mal still asleep on the sofa. It had been a couple of hours and it was time to wake his lover up. The glow of the laptop screen cut through the dimness of living room. He’d kept the lights off for Mal’s comfort, but there was enough light for him to still idly flip through the professional journal. He wasn’t really reading the current research articles, but he’d already cleared out his emails, both work and personal. He no longer had any accounts on social media, in the effort to minimize his digital presence to anyone outside his immediate circle of friends. And there were only so many news source websites a person could review before they
became irrevocably depressed.
“Hey, babe.”
He jerked his head up and quickly lowered the screen of the laptop. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
Mal rubbed his hand over his face and top of his head. He grabbed one wrist and stretched his upper body with a loud groan. Javier smiled at the sound of Mal’s shoulder cracking, because it proved the man actually was human. Also, despite the fact that he knew Mal wasn’t trying to put on a show, he appreciated the reveal of skin and muscle beneath the hem of the T-shirt that was already stretched tight across Mal’s torso.
“A lot better, actually. I probably won’t sleep tonight since I’ve been sleeping all day.”
“Hmm, well, if you hadn’t been puking your guts out earlier, I might have a suggestion on how to burn off some extra energy.”
“Extra energy might be a bit optimistic, but I’m going have to agree with you and say no sexy times tonight. What are you working on?”
“Nothing important. Just cruising viral cat videos on YouTube.”
“You are the worst liar.”
“I know.”
Malaki sat in the chair next to him at the breakfast bar.
Javier patted Malaki’s abs. “Think your stomach is up for a light late-night supper?”
“Yeah, maybe some soup. But you need to be getting to bed soon, since you have to work tomorrow. Are you going to stay?”
He nodded. “I was planning on it, unless you want to be alone. Please tell me you’re taking at least one more day off.”
Malaki pulled Javier’s chair closer and wrapped his arms around him. “There is never a time I would rather be alone when I can be with you.”
Javier snorted. “Just wait till the honeymoon phase wears off and I’m walking around the house farting and scratching my balls.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”