TIME TO TELL (A DRABBLE)

“Did you tell her?”

Michael glanced at Lee as he hung his overcoat on the hook inside the door.  Lee held two glasses of wine in his hands and Michael didn’t mind admitting he needed the drink offered.  “No.”

“Mike—”

“The time wasn’t right,” Michael protested, padding down the hall and taking the glass from Lee’s right hand.  The red wine lit up his taste buds and he rolled the fruity liquid around his mouth before letting it slide down his throat with a sigh. 

“It never is,” Lee mumbled; his tone flat and the hurt in his green gaze cutting right through Michael’s heart.

“Lee, come on,” Michael followed his lover into the living-room and sank down beside him on their over-stuffed couch.  “I’m working up to it.”

“Two years, Mike,” Lee said sarcastically, “you’ve been working up to it for two years.  I can’t live like this anymore.  I can’t wait in the shadows for you to grow a pair.  I’m worth more and if you can’t see that, then maybe you should leave.”

“What are you saying?” Michael’s stomach bottomed out and he had trouble swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat. 

“I’m saying that maybe you should go back to your cozy little life and carry on living the lie.  I’m through waiting.”

“But, I love you,” Michael reached out and cupped Lee’s cheek, turning his lover’s face to look at him.  He caressed a high cheekbone with his thumb and a bolt of hope shot through him as Lee leaned into his touch, green eyes closing.  That hope was shot down when Lee’s eyes opened and they were filled with tears.

“I love you, too,” Lee said softly, his voice thick with emotion.  “But I don’t want to hide it anymore.  Do you know how hard it is for me knowing that she thinks I’m just “one of the guys”?  That I can’t touch you, hold you… but she can?”

Mike’s heart broke in his chest at the raw pain in Lee’s gaze.  He knew he’d been selfish, stupid, scared… but in that single moment, the only thing he was afraid of was losing the man beside him.  Taking a deep breath he lifted Lee’s chin and kissed him slowly, savouring the taste of him before parting their lips on a soft snick.  “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

Reaching across Lee, he grabbed the phone and stabbed at the numbers, putting the handset to his ear.  The sound of the call connecting and then ringing echoed in his head and his stomach churned while he waited for it to be answered. 

“Hello?”

Mike closed his eyes at the sound of her sweet voice and he pulled Lee closer, needing his warmth and his strength.  She repeated the greeting and he took a breath, “Mom?  It’s me.”

FREE READ

Light so bright it hurts my eyes
Heart so heavy, can't even cry
Noises so loud, my head will explode
My game face is already starting to erode

Tired of this, so tired all the time
What is the reason?  Is there no rhyme?
When is enough really enough?
When was it supposed to be this tough?

Sleep sounds so good and so right
Maybe now I'll sleep through the night
The bottle's half empty, the glass half full
How many were in there?  Can't seem to recall

Thought I could do it, but I was kidding myself
Just a silly old cow who lost her real self
It's been a ball, but it's time to move on
Off into the unknown... goodnight, it's been fun

Free Read: Suckered Again

A smile, a touch, a flash of desire
Rough, searching kisses send your pulse rate higher
Frantic hands that can't seem to get enough
Clawing, scraping, the pleasure side of rough
Harsh moans and whimpers echo in the air
What a shame there was no substance there
Just a little fun, you knew that, right?
No, I'm sorry you forgot to mention that last night
In the cold light of day, deep breath and count to ten
Stupid, stupid me, got suckered in again

FREE READ - PROMPT #1

I asked for some prompts to enable me to write a free read of no more than 1000 words a time.
The first prompt comes from Araya... but I can't access her profile on blogger so can't link her blog in this post - which sucks.  But this is her prompt... 


PROMPT #1 - The wind was whipping through the mountains and he drove down the snow covered road.

The wind whipped through the mountains as he drove down the snow covered road; the snowflakes so big the wipers could barely clear the windscreen fast enough. Mack had spent the last half an hour hunched over the wheel with his nose practically pressed against the glass, and he could still see less than a foot in front of the car.

What the hell was he doing driving in the mountains in a blizzard?  Good question.  It had something to do with true love, he knew that.  Shame it hadn’t been his own.  His sister had talked him into driving her to her boyfriend Andy’s family’s cabin, where they were going to spend the holidays.  Of course, when they’d set out yesterday, there’d been no snow on the ground and everything had been plain sailing.  He’d spent the night with her boyfriend’s family and then began the drive home. 

The journey had started out like any other.  Andy’s mom had handed him a bag laden with sandwiches and chips and even a square of Christmas cake wrapped in tinfoil, along with a few bottles of water for his trip—just in case he got peckish.  Mack had smiled and dropped a kiss on her cheek, thanking her for her kindness and hospitality, and thinking that if he ate everything in the bag, the car would probably only reach thirty miles an hour.  He hadn’t known at that point that he’d be grateful for that bag of goodies when forty minutes into the drive, there was six inches of snow on the ground and visibility was practically nil.

Rounding the bend, he cursed loudly and swerved to avoid the shape crossing the road. “Fucking Christ!” he sputtered, stamping his foot on the brake and turning the wheel into the inevitable spin the car skidded into.  Snow kicked up all around him and when the car finally stopped, the nose of his Prius was in a ditch and his back wheels were no longer on the ground, turning on air.

Mack laid his head on the wheel, unable to remove his fingers from where they were clenched around the leather covering of the ring.  His heart beat so hard against his breastbone he was sure it was going to flop out of his chest onto his lap.  Then it picked up pace again when there was a loud bang on the rear window.  Holy shit!  Is it a bear? Can bears write?  Mack looked in the mirror and a wave of nausea hit him when he read what was being frantically outlined in the snow on the glass, the bear having to write them several times as fresh snow kept covering the indents he’d made.

Sixty foot drop!

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Mack choked on his own intake of breath and gazed out into the blanket of snow before him… not that he was sure what he expected to see, a big cartoon sign floating in mid air saying sixty feet in big red letters?  He slowly eased his weight into the back seat and crawled towards the door the bear had opened.  The car teetered and he half-launched himself and was half-dragged out just as his brand new Prius disappeared into the sea of white.

“Are you okay?  Say something for God’s sake!  Are you hurt?”

The bear was yelling at him, which pissed Mack off, considering it was the bear’s fault for walking in the road in the first place.  “My car!” he screamed back, trying to be heard above the whistling wind.  “You moron!  What were you doing in the road?”

“You’re bleeding!”

Mack shook his head at the bear, not understanding the growls coming out of its mouth.  The bear pointed to Mack’s forehead and he lifted his hand to his temple.  “Oh my God, I’m bleeding’!”  He could have sworn the bear rolled its eyes but the snow blowing in his face was too thick to be sure.  Not that he had a chance to say anything else, because the bear hauled him to his feet and began to drag him along the road, with a huge arm slung around his waist.  “Wait, what are you doing?  My car!  Oh, God, you’re gonna take me to your cave and eat me, aren’t you?”  I never thought I’d be going out this way.  Is it gonna hurt?  Will he knock me out first?

After what seemed like a lifetime walking through the driving snow, Mack squinted at the shadow of a building up ahead.  He was pulled up the steps and pushed against the wall next to the door by the bear, who reached out and pushed the door open before nudging Mack inside. 

“Come on, man,” the bear said, “let’s get you out of these clothes before they freeze to your body.”

“Make it quick,” Mack said, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“What?”

“When you eat me.”  Mack’s eyes widened when the bear stepped back and pulled a zipper beneath its snout to reveal white blond hair, big blue eyes and a strong square jaw. “Oh… you’re not a bear are you?”

“Nope, I’m Micah Stevens, this is my house,” the man grinned, stepping out his salopettes and kicking them to one side.  “You hit your head pretty hard on the wheel.”

“That probably explains why I thought you were a bear.”

“I would think so,” Micah said on a chuckle.  “But…” his gaze travelled over Mack, sending a pleasant shiver of anticipation down Mack’s spine, “if you’re really lucky, I might still eat you.”

THE END

Sunday Free Read: It Wasn't S'posed to Be This Way

The headboard feels cool against my back
I've been sitting here so long, I've completely lost track
I can hear him ranting to himself downstairs
I need to be ready, not caught unawares

I don't want to re-live it, but it won't let me be
When it's this bad, how I long to be free
The taste of blood in my mouth, too familiar these days
What did I do this time? For what crime must I pay?

Why do I stay? I know what you're thinking
Why don't I simply abandon this ship that is sinking?
Love? No, not love, that is long gone
So why am I here?  Why don't I just run?

It wasn't always this way, that's the God's honest truth
But then the suspicions began and the jealousy took root
He was gentle and kind, and there was only love... before
And I loved him, too, would have loved him forever... until my skin tore

The first time he did it, he cried and he begged
"Forgive me, baby, I'm so sorry," that's what he said
Then it happened again, and again, and again
It was no longer "if", it just became "when"

My heart's beating faster, I can hear his foot on the stair
When I look into his eyes, will I see sorrow there?
So you ask me again... "Why have you never just ran?"
Because no one can know my own private shame
Why I excuse the bruises again and again
Pride keeps me here.  Why?  Because I'm a man

FREE READ

I can see them up ahead
Their weapons are drawn
The fear and the dread
The same expression I'd worn

But that was before
Before the blood and the pain
Trying just to survive
Having everything to gain

Their guns are raised higher
The metal glints in the sun
They are ready to fire
Ready to run

They think they know us
That we don't understand
Mindless killing machines
Together they stand

I shamble along
Another face in the crowd
Amongst the stumbling throng
The hunger pounding so loud

Good thing they don't know
How would they feel if they did?
Would shame for actions be sown
If they lifted the lid?

I want to scream and shout
I'm still me trapped in here!
But only a groaning comes out
Intensifying their fear

I had a life once, things I held dear
I was a wife and a mother
My future was clear
Until death, it drew near

I hear the pulling of triggers
They are standing so strong
I can't help the hunger
I did nothing wrong

This isn't my fault
This was done to me
Won't somebody help me?
Please set me free?

The bullets start flying
The sound is music, so grand
The sound of release
In a winter Zombieland

Am I Even Here?

I know I'm talking
I can hear the sound of my voice
But it makes no impression
Their expressions stay the same

Are they doing it on purpose?
Or has it become habit?
Are they not even aware anymore?
It wasn't always this way.

I've let things slide
Made excuses for their heartache
But now it's my heart that's heavy
My soul that's suffocating.

I look around at where once was calm
And now is chaos
And wonder why I am ignored
Why I hold no weight anymore.

Then I realise it is my own doing
I have to stand up and be counted
I'm older than they are
I am the one in charge

I just have to get it back.

Free Read: The Reluctant Bride

IN my nineteenth year the brothel was made
By parents with no morals
Thirty pieces of silver was all he paid
I stood and I watched as they counted their spoils
From the memory of it my stomach still roils
But I made a decision of my own that night

Beneath the glow of cold moonlight
They will pay, I swear
For no wedding gown would they see me wear

Tis the night before my wedding
And they sleep in their bed
The first cut was easy
And the sheets they bloomed red
Their pieces of silver are here in my hand
As in front of the cottage, my home, is where I now stand
I slip my bag in the well for safekeeping
As the sound of a steed over hills I hear creeping
My clothes I now shed and quickly hide too
I need to be naked, clothing wouldn't do
He jumps down from his horse and bangs on the door
Bursts inside and I hear his loud roar
I am unafraid, why would I be scared?
He can't hurt me now, I am well prepared
He's a Warlock he said, to be worshiped and feared
How can it be true when he can't see me near?
I stay on the rug, my eyes honest and true
If he were a Warlock, he would notice their hue
Even though he stares at me, he won't admit that
No, his head he shakes firmly, I'm only the cat
Only the cat...I watch him stride through the door
Oh no, my dear Warlock, I am so much MORE

Free Read - The Vampire's Lament

There is no light, not the smallest spark

Everything echoes so loud
I can hear them crying above
As I lay in my shroud

I lie so still
Is it time?

I feel no fear, for he is waiting
There is no reason, no rhyme

The rebirth is hard
The journey long
His voice is so sweet
Urging me on

I break through the surface
My journey is over
My love is waiting for me
This mortal coil is done

He takes my hand
Kisses my cold lips
Now together, forever
Eternally bound

Free Read - Quiet Confessions

Quiet Confessions

Dan accepted the next in a long line of vending machine coffees from Brent and held it between his numb fingers.  He was running on autopilot now.  They all were.  Desperately hanging on for any news.  Calling Simon’s parents had been the hardest part.  They were so far away and it would take them hours to get to the hospital.  He only hoped they weren’t too — No, he wasn’t going to think about that. 

“Dude,” Brent said, sitting down beside him.  “Why don’t you go home, get some rest.  I’ll stay with him.”

“No.”

“Dan—”

“I. Said. No. What if he wakes up and I’m not here?” Dan hissed, turning in his seat and slopping hot coffee over his skin, but he didn’t feel it.  He hadn’t felt anything other than abject terror for three days, fourteen hours, thirty two minutes and twenty-eight seconds, give or take a second or two.  He was immediately contrite, Brent was only trying to help, he knew that.  But he couldn’t…wouldn’t leave, not yet.

Brent sighed, running a hand through his black hair.  A move he had made more than once over the last few hours, Dan thought, judging by the way the strands stuck up all around his head at different angles.  “If you won’t leave, at least give me the keys so I can go and get you some clean clothes.”

“They’re fine.”

“Dan,” Brent’s tone was firm and so was the hand he laid on Dan’s thigh.  “They’ve got blood on them.” 

Looking down at the khaki t-shirt he had been wearing for three days, fourteen hours, thirty-four minutes and eighteen seconds, give or take a second or two, ‘cos who was counting, right? – Dan’s breath hitched in his throat.  The blood had dried in dark obscene patches where it had seeped into the fabric and his empty stomach recoiled in horror, dry heaving painfully.  He ripped the t-shirt off and tossed it to the floor – unable to believe that he had been wearing it for so long without realizing he was covered in blood — Simon’s blood.

Fumbling in the pocket of the jacket hooked over the back of his chair, Dan grabbed his house keys and held them out to Brent.  He didn’t even feel the other man take them from his fingers, or kiss the top of his head gently before he left.  In truth, he didn’t even hear him leave.

Downing the rest of the vile, but highly caffeinated, drink he put the cup on the floor with the myriad of other Styrofoam cups and moved his chair even closer to the hospital bed, letting his gaze travel over the prone form beneath the crisp white sheets.

Simon looked asleep, or at least he would have done if it weren’t for the tube up his nose and the I.V. firmly taped to the back of one of his huge hands, spilt blood blossoming on the gauze.  He was deathly pale, almost the same color as the sheets and his wavy hair was a black pool in contrast to the pillow it spread across.  There wasn’t even a mark on his beautiful face to show for his stupidity.

Shouldn’t there at least be something to show for all the blood that had oozed from the huge gash on the back of Simon’s skull, hidden by his hair?  Oh, and from his ears and nose, of course.  How could he forget that?  Would he ever forget that?  Forget the sight of Simon’s body, still, crumpled and suddenly so small on the ground where he’d missed the mis-positioned crash mat — falling two stories during a stunt.

Lacing his fingers through Simon’s, he lifted the cool smooth skin and pressed it to his bare chest, in an effort to warm the cooling flesh.  “Okay, Si,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, when what he really wanted to do was scream and shout.  “Enough is enough, now.  You’ve proved once again that you still hold the title for being the most pigheaded ass who walked the earth.  I told you to let the stunt double take the dive, but would you listen to me?  Of course, you didn’t, why would you? I mean, you never have before, so why actually listen when it’s important?”  He sighed heavily and bent his head, resting his lips on Simon’s fingers.  “You never listen to me...but you gotta listen now, okay?  Just this once.  Can you hear me?  Wake up, Si...please, just wake up.  I know you think I’m a big ole girl anyway but I gotta tell ya, Si.  I’m scared shitless.”

Dan inelegantly wiped the snot dripping from his nose with the back of his hand.  “There’s something I want to tell you and I need you to be awake, coma confessions don’t count...mostly on account of the coma part of the scenario, so if you could wake up now, that would be good.  I want to look right in that stupid face of yours when I say this.  I want to see your eyes...’cos they’ll tell me everything I need to know.  They always do.

“You remember that secret you asked me to keep for you?  I never told you how honored I was, that you would trust me with something that huge and I’ve kept it for you, all this time.”  He stroked Simon’s hair back from his forehead in a rhythmic motion, holding limp fingers against his own stubbled cheek as he spoke.  “Funny thing is...until three days, fourteen hours, forty-seven minutes and eleven seconds ago...yeah, I’m counting, so what?...I didn’t realize that, while I was holding your secret, I had one of my own.  Didn’t realize it until I heard the crack of your stupid melon on that cold ground.  For a split second I thought you were gonna just get up, you know, like always...laugh it off...maybe yell at medical to get you an icepack...complain that your hair was mussed up, anything...but you didn’t move.

Taking a deep ragged breath, Dan continued.  “I got to you first, of course I did, I always will and when I turned you over...fuck, Si...when I saw the blood from your nose and your ear...in that single moment I have never been so terrified in my entire life.  I actually understood what real fear was.  The fear that I might lose you without you ever knowing...without me having the chance to tell you...” He huffed out a joyless laugh, tasting the salt of his own tears.  “Come on, Simon, don’t be an asshole, wake up. Don’t leave me here all alone. Please Si...please.  Wake UP!”  His voice began to rise, anger edging ahead of despair.  Anger at his own helplessness, anger at the grip who had placed that mat just a few inches to the right, anger at Simon for insisting that he could do the stunt himself, anger at the world.

“I love you, are you listening to me? And I don’t mean in a slap you on the back, you’re my bro kind of way.  In a great big huge wanna spend the rest of my life with you way, and if you think you’re checking out on me when I suddenly realize I wanna suck face with you for the next fifty years, you’ve got another think coming!  So you open your eyes and wake up you fucking coward! Wake up, please.  I love you...Simon...please...don’t leave me...” Dan trailed off, unable to force any more words past the lump in his throat.  Lowering his head onto the bed beside the other man, he gulped in great gasps of air as he sobbed and his heart broke in his chest.  “I love you...”

“Jeez,” a quiet, cracked voice fought to make itself heard over the sound of Dan’s tears.  “You don’t…gotta be such…crybaby about it.”

“Si?”  Dan’s head snapped up so fast he was sure he’d given himself whiplash as he rose to his feet and looked down into groggy, brown eyes.  “Si? You’re awake!”

“’Course…awake, you’re shouting…loud ‘nuff…wake the dead,” Simon croaked.  “You better…woke me up…for good reason.”

“You fucking, asshole,” Dan breathed, his hand shooting out to brace himself on the bed when Simon pulled on his arm to close the gap between them.  “Big, stupid, freaky, fucking asshole.”  He felt a wave of comfort and love wash over him as their lips met softly for the first, but definitely not the last time.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Simon mumbled sleepily. “I love you, too.”

FREE READ - IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME

As they loaded him in the back of the cruiser, bare-chested and only clad in his jeans, Milo bit down on his lower lip to try and distract him from the gaping hole in his heart.  One single sentence echoed around his head like a religious mantra..."It should've been me."

He settled against the cold leather of the seat and felt the metal of the cuffs press into his lower back where they'd secured his hands behind him.  Ignoring the two cops that climbed into the front, he turned his head and gazed out of the window with unseeing eyes, his mind retracing the steps that had led him here.

The moment he'd laid eyes on Clay, he'd known he would never look at another man for the rest of his life.  Knew that he'd found "the one" and, to his utter amazement, Clay felt the same way.  It was just a shame that Clay's father didn't.  Hank Farnsworth was a grade A son-of-a-bitch, like his daddy before him and his daddy's daddy before that...and everyone in town knew that, except Milo.  But then Milo had been in town less than 48 hours, but it didn't take most of the local bar long to advise him that staring that way at Clay Farnsworth, was not a good idea.

Somehow, Milo didn't care.  He'd had his fare share of experience with grade A sons-a-bitches and he wasn't scared by Hank Farnsworth's reputation.  In fact he wasn't scared of anything...apart from leaving this piss ant town without Clay.  So he'd ignored everyone's warnings and sage advice and he'd approached the tall, blond haired God at the end of the bar, they eyes never leaving each other from then on...until this morning.

They'd left Moons Hollow forty-six hours ago, leaving in the dead of night and heading for God knows where, it didn't matter--as long as they were together.  Pitching up in a small motel in an equally small town a day's drive away, they'd collapsed on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, grabbing fingers and searching mouths.  Every other thought but each other driven from their minds.

Then this morning, Clay had insisted going to the store while he stayed in bed.  The idiot had some kind of romantic notion that he wanted to make Milo breakfast, even if it would only be cold ready made pancakes and luke warm coffee.  He'd decided that they were going to celebrate the first morning of their new life together.  Thinking about it now, Milo had had an uneasy feeling in his belly, but Clay had pouted and kissed him and blown him, until he agreed with a groan and the beautiful blue eyes twinkled at Milo as Clay closed the door behind him.

Of course, they didn't know then that the great Hank Farnsworth had every cop he could find on their tail.  He'd spun them some story about how Clay and he had stolen money and guns from the house and fled the scene.  Milo gleaned that much from the bellowed instructions from the officers who had burst into the motel room and hauled him from the bed; letting him throw on some jeans before cuffing him and throwing him into the cruiser.

They'd been full of bravado about how his "accomplice" had been killed by the Sheriff trying to escape when he was apprehended at the convenience store down the street.  How Clay had screamed when the bullets pierced his body, moaning in a pool of his own blood before he finally shut up.

As the cruiser pulled out into the sparce traffic down the main street of the town, Milo wondered if Hank Farnsworth was pleased that both of the thieves had been apprehended and one of them had been killed.  He wondered whether the hole in Hank's heart would be as big as the one in his, when the son-of-a-bitch found out that it was his own son, and not Milo, that lay on the ground covered in a sheet.  And then he wondered if the echo would ever stop:

It should've been me.

FREE READ - BABY...IT'S HOT INSIDE

Baby....It’s Hot In Here

They were being burgled.  It was the only explanation for it.  Nick heard another bang come from downstairs, followed by Mack’s loud bark and he felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest.  That’s my boy, eat the fucker, Mack! He debated briefly whether he should investigate, or if he should make Oliver do it.  Hey, just because he was bigger, didn’t automatically mean he was braver...where was that cast in stone?
Reaching out a hand to shake Oliver’s shoulder and touching fresh air, Nick frowned.  Shit! He forgot.  Oliver was sleeping in the spare room tonight.  SoCal had been in the throes of a stifling heat wave for the last two weeks.  They were on hiatus from the show where Nick was the lead and Oliver was the assistant director, and they’d spent days lazing by the pool – which they hadn’t got nearly as much use out of as Nick insisted they’d put it in -- soaking up the rays and almost forgetting that they weren’t by the community pool in their villa in Marbella.  At first. 
Now, it had gone from stifling, to Nick surfing the net for directions on how to do a rain dance.  It had even gotten so hot that Oliver had relocated to the guest room downstairs, unable to bear being in the same bed as him.  The external heat mixed with the internal heat that Nick radiated had been Oliver’s undoing.  So it was with his best pouty lip and heartfelt sigh that Oliver had leaned down, kissed Nick goodnight and padded downstairs, refusing to succumb to Nick’s best kicked puppy look as he left the room.
Nick had tossed and turned for what seemed like forever, but he was, of course, too manly to admit that that was because Oliver wasn’t beside him, not actually because of the heat.  Eventually he had drifted off, until he had just been woken a few moments ago by something...spending a few moments in that sleepy plane of “Why the fuck am I awake?” before he heard a bang and a muffled expletive coming from the living-room.  “Fantastic,” he muttered. “How can Oliver still be asleep? I bet he’s dreaming about fluffy bunnies while the love of his life gets murdered by Biff the big butch burglar.” 
Throwing back the covers and getting out of bed, Nick reached for the boxers he had discarded earlier in the vein hope of circulating more air, and pulled them on.  He padded as quietly as he could out onto the landing, peering over the banister and down the stairs.  All he could see was darkness and the odd shadow in the shaft of moonlight that shone through the window at the top of the front door.  Fuck it! That meant he had to go get himself killed.  Maybe he had misheard the bang, it was probably just Mack knocking something over and then he heard the patio door in the kitchen creak as it was opened. 
Oliver! Oliver was asleep and whoever was breaking in would find him, asleep and vulnerable down there!  Nick forgot that he was a big sissy for five seconds and pounded down the stairs, a resounding growl of menace, or what he hoped sounded like menace, emanating from deep within his chest.  If taking down the burglar meant getting killed so Oliver could be saved – so be it!
Unfortunately for Nick, the only thing he took down was Mack, who was lying in the middle of the hall.  Mack yelped, so did Nick and ended up sprawled on his stomach on the polished oak of the hall floor, gasping for air.  He froze, waiting for the burglar to come and see what the commotion was but there was nothing.  Pushing himself to his feet, Nick took a deep breath and rubbed at his stomach, tip-toeing into the empty living-room and on through into the kitchen.  In the kitchen he found nothing, apart from a very soft welcoming breeze blowing through the open patio door—that and the sound of splashing. 
Stepping out onto the decking, Nick padded down the steps toward the pool.  “Oliver?” he said, his voice sounding like a loud haler to his ears in the still of the night.  “Is that you?”
The figure floating on its back in the clear water, making little waves with its hands, straightened and swam slowly to the side, stopping in front of Nick.  Oliver wiped his eyes and shook his head, spraying Nick’s bare feet with droplets of chlorine scented water.
“Of course it’s me, who did you think it was?” he said, keeping his voice low.  Oliver raised his eyebrows when he was met with silence, and tilted his head questioningly.  “You thought I was a burglar, didn’t you.”  It was a statement.
Nick shook his head and huffed a not very convincing derisive laugh.  “Don’t be stupid...I knew it was you.”
Oliver chuckled softly.  “Yeah, you thought I was a burglar.  Didn’t know there was much of a market for used pool water.”
“Shut up,” Nick mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly, glad it was dark and that Oliver couldn’t see him blush.  “What are you doing out here?  And don’t say swimming, asshat.”
“It’s too damn hot.  I couldn’t sleep.  I thought of getting in the shower downstairs but was worried that the sound might wake you, so I decided to come out here.”  Oliver rested his arms on the side of the pool and put his chin on his hands.  “Sorry I woke you anyway.  I was being quiet until Mack tripped me up.”
“S’okay, I wasn’t sleeping that well either.”  Nick flinched when one of Oliver’s wet hands closed over his ankle.  “What are you doing?” he hissed, looking down at his leg.
“Well...since you’re awake and extremely hot...” Oliver waggled his eyebrows at Nick in the glow from the underwater pool lights.  “Why don’t you come keep me company?”
“You’re kidding me, right?  Ol, if it’s too hot to sleep, it’s sure as hell too hot for sex,” Nick replied, trying to shake Oliver’s hand off his ankle. 
Oliver shook his head and pulled hard on Nick’s ankle while it was raised in the air, trying to dislodge his hand.  He grinned as Nick toppled, lost his balance and splashed into the water beside him.  Waiting while Nick coughed and spluttered, wiped the water from his face and pushed his hair from his eyes, Oliver paddled over to him and slid his hands over his boyfriend’s shoulders and hooked a muscled calf around an even more muscled thigh.
“It’s not too hot in here,” he drawled, easing Nick to the edge of the pool and bending his head to latch his lips to the fluttering pulse at the base of Nick’s throat.
“You suck, dude,” Nick hissed, his eyes fluttering shut as Oliver’s lips worked the sensitive skin of his neck.  He couldn’t contain the moan that fell from his lips when Oliver began to lick at the drops of water clinging to his collarbone. 
“Eventually,” Oliver murmured.  “I want to taste the rest of you first.”  The heavy Virginian edge to Oliver’s voice indicated how turned on he was.  No-one had ever had the effect on him that Nick had.  The need to taste, mark, own and love, all at the same time. 
“What about Mrs. Proud,” Nick moaned, referring to their neighbor, whose bedroom had a direct view of their pool.
“She’s real nice, but not my type, I’d much rather fuck you,” Oliver deadpanned, continuing to kiss and lick across Nick’s collar bone and up the other side of his tanned throat.
“Very funny,” Nick retorted, tilting his head to allow Oliver better access.
“Nick...” darkened green eyes looked into blown hazel.
“Yeah?”
“Can you shut up now?”
“Uh-Huh...”
Oliver’s plump lips nipped at Nick’s in soft, teasing kisses, pulling Nick’s lower lip in between his white teeth and swiping his tongue over the sensitive flesh.  He opened his eyes a fraction while he teased Nick, reveling in the way that the big man quivered at his touch.  Their slightest movement was making the water around them lap gently, sliding over their hot skin and creating the most delicious buffer.   All the while he was kissing Nick, Oliver was edging him into shallower water, so that their feet were touching the bottom of the pool. 
“God, Olly,” Nick moaned against Oliver’s mouth, his hands moving up to cup Oliver’s face as he took control of the kiss and ravaged Oliver’s lips, sliding his tongue against Oliver’s and drawing a moan from him.  Breaking the kiss, Nick gripped Oliver’s waist and turned him in the water so that Oliver’s back was now against the tiled wall.  “Fuck,” he gasped breaking the kiss and sliding his hands down over Oliver’s ass and lifting him in the water, pulling Oliver’s legs loosely around his waist.  Nick peeled his boxers off quickly and repositioned Oliver’s legs. 
Arching his back, Oliver almost bit through his lip when Nick ran his fingers down the crack of his ass and opened his cheeks, moving Oliver slowly so that the water lapped at his hole.  “Fuck, Nick,” he hissed when he felt Nick’s fingers join the water in the gentle exploration of his entrance, his hands gripping at Nick’s shoulders.
“You like that?” Nick smiled, kiss-biting along Oliver’s jaw.
“Fuck, yeah...love it when you touch me,” Oliver turned his head to capture Nick’s lips with his own and panted into Nick’s mouth when he felt one finger breach him slowly, the water easing the way. 
“Not as much as I love touching you,” Nick said huskily, his tongue licking at Oliver’s in tiny jabs, sparks of pleasure flowing between them.  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, pulling back to look into Oliver’s face, lit by the moon and the hazy pool lights.  “Still can’t believe you’re mine...” he felt the muscle give around his finger and pulled out slowly, ignoring Oliver’s whimper of complaint and coming back with two.  “Still can’t believe I get to kiss you...touch you...love you.”
“Believe it, baby,” Oliver groaned, trailing his fingers down Nick’s side and across the muscled stomach to curl around the thick, hard shaft of Nick’s cock.  He smiled at Nick’s cut off yell when he stroked Nick from base to tip, his palm circling the sensitive head.  “I’m all yours and this...” he squeezed Nick’s hardness and stroked him again.  “This is all mine.”
Nick grinned widely, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks when Oliver began to jerk him in earnest beneath the water.  “You bet your ass it is.”
“Oh, my ass would lay money on it,” Oliver retorted, his grip on Nick’s shoulders tightening as he began to fuck himself on Nick’s thrusting fingers.  He complained when Nick pulled his fingers free and grabbed hold of Oliver’s hands.  “What?”
“Ssssh,” Nick soothed, lifting Oliver’s hands and placing them on the side of the pool.  “You may want to hang on for this part...” he rasped, all trace of LA gone and leaving pure yellow rose.  He waited for Oliver to grip the side and then moved back slightly, positioning himself between Oliver’s thighs.  He pushed in slowly, his eyes closing and his breath panting through his parted lips as the head of his cock slid into his lover.  “Fuck,” he moaned, sliding in further in slow, easy pushes, the water making Oliver feel almost weightless.  “Always so tight for me.  Feels so good, baby.”
Oliver’s chin dropped down onto his chest and his mouth hung open, gulping in great breaths of air.  He loved being this connected to Nick, so close that he didn’t know when he ended and Nick began.  Loved the way Nick filled him, made him feel complete.   Lifting his head, Oliver’s glazed green eyes locked with hazel.  “You have no idea how fucking good you feel inside me,” he whispered, catching Nick’s lips in a deep, breath stealing, kiss.  “I need...I need,” he murmured, his thighs tightening around Nick’s waist.
“What do you need?” Nick husked, sucking a bruise into Oliver’s throat.  “Tell me what you want, baby.”  Nick urged him on.  He loved it when Oliver begged him for it, all breathy moans and whispered gasps.
“You...” Oliver keened when Nick moved his hips in a small figure eight, the head of his cock brushing teasingly across Oliver’s prostate, lighting sparks behind his eyelids.  “Fuck....Nick...fuck me...please...want you to fuck me.”
Nick smiled against Oliver’s skin, the sound of Oliver, all strung out and needy making the heat rage in his belly.  He pulled out slowly and then slammed back in hard and fast, cries falling not only from Oliver’s lips, but his own. 
Setting up a punishing rhythm, Nick brought him to the brink so many times that Oliver lost count.  His fingers gripped tighter and tighter to the side as he felt his orgasm start to tingle in his spine and reach out to all his nerve endings, lighting them up.  All that could be heard on the night air was moans and gasps and the lapping of the water against the edge of the pool, getting faster and faster as the need for release grew.
“So close,” Oliver whimpered, his cock hard and aching against his stomach, not even having been touched by Nick’s hand, just engorged with desire by the relentless pounding of Nick’s hard cock in this dark wet heat, scraping ruthlessly against his prostate on almost every stroke.  “Right there...Jesus fuck, Nick...I’m coming...”
“Let it go, baby,” Nick hissed, his head thrown back, his hands moving down to grip behind Oliver’s knees.  “Do it...come on...wanna hear you...”
“Aaaaahhh,” Oliver’s long drawn out cry echoed in the darkness as he came hard in the water, hot spurts pulsing from him, his knuckles white on the side of the pool he was gripping so hard to the tile. 
Nick slammed hard into Oliver, his hips jerking when he felt Oliver’s ass clamp down on his pulsing cock, dragging his orgasm from him.  “Shit, shit, shit,” he moaned over and over, his hips moving until he was spent, his head resting in the curve of Oliver’s neck.  Nick sighed heavily when he felt Oliver’s arms slide around his shoulders and hold him tightly, his cock still inside and pulsing gently in the aftershocks of his orgasm.  He gulped in great mouthfuls of air and pressed his lips to Oliver’s skin while he waited for his heart to slow back down to its post-coital rate.  Reaching down to gently lift Oliver, Nick pulled out and crowded back into Oliver’s arms.
Oliver lowered his legs slowly and stood up in the water.  They felt a little wobbly, but if he held on to Nick, he was okay, he could stand up – he just wasn’t sure he could walk.  “Huh...” was about all he could come up with.
“Uh-huh,” was Nick’s equally coherent reply.  They exchanged slow kisses until their breathing had returned to normal and then they climbed out of the pool and padded back into the house, going into the en suite off Oliver’s old bedroom for towels to dry themselves off with.   Oliver smiled fondly when Nick flopped down onto the bed beside him.  He didn’t say a word, just shuffled his ass backwards until it fitted into the cradle of Nick’s hips, feeling Nick’s cock nestled snugly against his crack.
“What?” Nick yawned, when he felt Oliver’s chuckle vibrate against the hand he had pressed to Oliver’s chest.
“You thought I was a burglar,” Oliver snorted.
“Asshat...” Nick murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing his face on Oliver’s shoulder.  It wasn’t long before both men were asleep...too spent for the heat to be an issue.

THE END

FREE READ - I'M ALREADY THERE

Mitch felt his Mama's hand slide through the crook of his elbow as he stood on the tarmac.  He looked down at her and smiled softly, feeling Angie's hand do the same on his other side.  Jason hadn't wanted a big crowd waiting for him.  Hadn't even wanted Mitch to meet him.  That idea had been squashed quickly enough after a few choice curse words down the crackly line, that Jason hadn't even been aware Mitch knew.  But he had told Mitch he was putting his foot down on there being their entire families waiting for him.  Mitch swallowed nervously at the small pregnant silence that had followed.  Silly little words that took on a whole new meaning. 

He shifted from one foot to the other and checked his watch for the one thousandth time.  Another twenty minutes before the plane landed.  Thankfully it was on time.  He let his mind drift to their last night together.  Feeling Jason move inside of him, setting his nerve endings alight, two halves of one soul.  Then laying in each other’s arms until the small hours, talking about anything and everything, kissing softly, whispering promises and words of love into the dark.  He remembered watching Jason pulling on his uniform in the morning sunlight and then their own quiet, private goodbye at the house.  Arms holding each other tight, neither wanting to let the other go, but knowing that they had to.  This was the life that Jason had chosen, the life that he loved, just as much as he loved Mitch.  The price Mitch had paid for falling in love with an army man.

“You come home, you hear?” Mitch whispered into Jason's hair.  “Stay safe.”

Jason had kissed Mitch tenderly and smiled, brushing the chocolate colored waves from Mitch's forehead. “All I have to do is close my eyes and I'm already there.”  Kissing Mitch one more time, he had grabbed his bag and closed the door behind him.

“Mitch, it's here, baby,” Angie said nervously, her fingers gripping his arm tightly.

Mitch smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head.  “It's gonna be okay,” he said softly as the plane taxied down the runway.  He glanced down at his own mother and chuckled.  “No tears, Mama. You know what he said.”  He smiled proudly at her as she nodded her head.

The plane came to a stop and they waited for Jason to disembark.  Mitch blinked back the tears as he saw him.  He'd promised Jason when they had spoken for those few brief moments over the crackly line the hospital so many thousands of miles away had managed to set up.  Making arrangements for Jason's flight home, making sure they each knew how much they loved each other. 

Mitch hated waiting at airports for Jason.  Always had done, right from the start.  His feet began that familiar shuffling as he waited, wanting to run to the plane, but knowing that Jason wouldn’t appreciate him bouncing around like a big old girl in front of his men.  Jesus, what are they doing?  Then he saw him and his lips curved into a relieved smile.  The wait was over.  He was home.

Hurriedly striding  forward, Mitch nodded to the other two members of Jason’s platoon before reaching out and placing his hand on the polished oak, his fingers tracing the name on the brass plate.  Captain Jason Peters.  “Hey, baby,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he remembered  that crackly conversation and the way the line had kept cutting in and out, obscuring that sexyTexan drawl. 

It's not good, baby.  They don't reckon...I'll last the night.  Pulled few strings....managed to get...line out...don't know...long it'll work.  Had to hear your...voice, Mitch.  Say I love you...just...more time.” Jason's voice faded in and out, words being cut off by the bad connection and the harsh breaths he was taking.  “Don't want you meeting...the airport.  I don't want...entire family...weeping and wailing.  Need...to be strong.”

“Fuck that.  I've been there to meet you on every plane.  I'm not missing this one.  And if you think I'm going up against your Mama and mine, you're crazier than I thought.”  Mitch's fingers had gripped the receiver so tightly they ached as he heard the pain in Jason's voice, the pain that he was trying desperately to spare Mitch.

“Okay, butthead.  No tears…promise...no tears.”  Jason's voice faded as he took a long shuddering breath and Mitch strained to hear him.  “I want...remember me with a smile on your face...'cos that's...how I'll remember you.  Don't....drunk at the wake...sing when you're drunk...you're singing sucks...sucks ass.”

“Fuck you,” Mitch had smiled through the tears that rolled unheeded down his face.  “Okay, no tears. I promise.  I love you, Jason.  Always have.  Always will.”

“I...go, babe...line is on...way out.  I love you more.”

“Jase, you come home to me, you hear?” Mitch's voice cracked and he hoped Jason would just think it was the connection.  Mitch heard the tears in his voice as Jason replied, his voice suddenly strong and sure.

“All I have to do is close my eyes, baby, and I'm already there.”

The End