Shooting Matt Ch. 14

I give him a quick peek on the lips. "Of course, we can leave it there for tonight. It has been a great day. There's no rush. Let's play it by ear, huh?"

He smiles and nods.

"You want me to take the couch tonight then?"

"Huh? No. Not unless that's what you want to do."

"No, that's not what I want to do."

"So, what's the deal with you and Leon? I have to say, my gaydar didn't buzz at all around him."

"What about me?"

He shakes his head. "Nope but on the other hand I didn't have much time to observe you before you kissed my patient. That was kind of a big clue." He smiles and I smile back.

"True dat." I give him the bare outlines of my history, such as it is, with Leon and Glenna. I don't mention Mary Beth or her issues with drugs.

"So, he ends up married to a girl who had a crush on you when you were a teenager?"

"Yup."

"And he's gay? Not bi?"

"Gay. We talked a lot about that. He's more or less convinced me that he can be in love with Glenna even though he's gay."

"And you're bi?"

I nod.

"Randy, I have to confess. I've never been sure bi dudes are for real."

"We're real. I loved Liam's mom, too much for my own good, but I loved her. Even if I didn't, I loved having sex with her. I wasn't denying who I was, or trying to claw my way through the back wall of the closet. No. I enjoy sex with woman as much as I do with men." I'm quiet for a time. "I could have easily fallen in love with Leon. Mary Beth, Liam's mom, was toxic. That killed whatever hope there was." I shrug my shoulders. "I'm okay with that, more than okay. I'm eternally grateful for it. Without that, I wouldn't have Liam."

"He seems like a good kid," Kent agrees. He grimaces slightly. "He and Matt are so irritatingly cute together, the other day I just wanted to smack them both. I admit it; I'm jealous of their youth, their innocence, and most of all, their belief that everything is always going to be okay."

I nod. I understand totally. "Let 'em hold onto that awhile. It'll get rubbed off by life soon enough. I just hope it gets rubbed off and not blasted off."

"Amen to that, brother. Amen to that."

A gigantic yawn nearly splits my head in two. I feel like Phillip or Terrence from South Park.

"I was going to read but I'm beat."

"What are you reading?"

I rummage through my gym bag that sits at the end of the couch. "Essays, he writes fantasy and horror mostly. The first couple in here were great. My local librarian recommended it."

He looks at the book. "I know the name but never read any of his stuff."

"Me, neither but I'm going to."

I cross over to the rumpled bed. I never got around to making it; that's usual for me. I undress, completely this time, and climb into bed. It's cooled off enough that I pull the covers up over my shoulders. I hear Kent undressing. The bed shifts. The lamp is on his side. There's a click. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust but by the time I feel him snuggle his back up against mine and I feel his bare skin against mine, I can see stars twinkling beyond the tree branches. It dawns on me that I'm happy, really happy, not just 'not sad' for the first time in, I don't know how long. I've missed it.

***

"So, when can I swim?"

"Any time but start slow. I mean it," Brandon, the physical therapist, tells Matt. His face was set in what he hopes is a serious, I-mean-it, expression. "Start with just doing some kicks along the side of the pool, like we've been doing, then a kick board, less twisting of your lower back than actually swimming. If that goes okay, then start some slow laps. Got it?"

"No," Matt tells him, shaking his head and grinning. "Could you write that down for me?"

Brandon struggles to retain his professional glare. He's relieved when Liam cuffs Matt on the back of the head.

"Knock it off," he snarls.

Matt rubs the back of his head, grimacing. "Brandon, who do I talk to if I don't feel safe at home?"

"From what I can see, you're lucky you got a home," Brandon growls.

"You hurt me. Truly, you do." Matt's grin fades. "Uh, seriously dude, thanks for all your help. I know you spent more time on my dumb ass than you needed to."

"You're right about one thing. You are a dumb ass." Brandon shakes his head. "My pleasure. Now get outta here so I can take care of someone who really needs it."

Liam has brought a small backpack. Matt's clothes are already packed. Discharge orders have been signed. Brandon's instructions were the last step in the process. Matt surprises Brandon by giving him a hug. Brandon surprises himself by not stiffening up. He's not usually this relaxed around gay dudes. He hasn't known many, not that he knows of anyway. His church has spent many an hour warning him about the perils of the 'homosexual agenda'. He frowns as the two men walk away. Was there anything in the way Liam and Matt had interacted, treated each other, treated him, that should arouse fear? Loathing? Did they seem evil? He makes a mental note to attempt to do more than nod at the co-workers he knows are 'gay'. The word feels strange in his head. 'Gay', not 'fag' or 'queer' or 'dyke'. What the hell is happening to him?

"Uh-huh, yeah, dad, I know. Yeah, the room is paid for until tomorrow. Yes, I'll text you when we leave tomorrow. Jesus, pop, relax, we're not preparing to go to Mars. We'll see you tomorrow. Yeah, I love you, too."

As Liam returns his phone to his pocket he notices Matt grinning. "The Ranster all wound up?"

"Yeah," Liam says, then scowls. "I told you I hate 'Ranster'."

"I know but you're so fucking cute when you get all frowny I can't help it." He bumps his shoulder into his friend's. "Come on. I could see an IHOP from the sunroom at the end of the hall. I've been dying for pancakes for two days now."

"Poor baby," Liam mutters and then bumps Matt with his shoulder. "Don't eat too much. I'm taking you on a date."

"A date?"

"Yeah, a date. We haven't done that yet, you know? I miss it," Liam admits in a low voice.

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's sounds silly but I never imagined, you know, love at first sight. I always imagined meeting someone and not being sure and everything is awkward; lotsa misread signals, dancing around the point, false starts and blind ends but over time realizing, fuck, I love this guy."

"Are you saying this is love at first sight, dude?"

Liam shrugs. "I don't know, not totally. We've known each other for a while and there've been plenty of missed signals." He glances at his friend. "But I feel really close to you. It freaks me out when I think about it. I mean, I really don't know know you."

"Brah, it doesn't sound silly. I don't know know you either, but I'm totally diggin' what I'm learning. How's that?"

"That's cool."

Liam slips his hand into Matt's. They ignore the occasional stare. "So where are you taking me on our date?"

"It's a surprise."

"Brah, I totally love surprises."

Their feet find each other under the table. The pancakes are good. The silence and stolen smiles across cups of coffee are better.

"How's your back?" Liam asks as the motel room door closes behind them.

"Good. It's good. Why?"

"I was thinking, our date will require a lot of standing. You going to be okay?"

"Sure. Not a problem."

"You'll tell me if it is?"

"Abso-posi-tootly."

Liam shakes his head. "Bring some ibuprofen, just in case. Damn car probably won't start anyway."

It starts -- on the second attempt.

As Liam parks, Matt regards with an upraised brow. "Here?"

"Is this okay?" He tries to keep the uncertainty out of his voice but the look on his face betrays him.

Matt leans across the seat and pulls Liam to meet him with one hand on the back of his neck. He touches his nose to Liam's, touches lips and then returns his nose to Liam's. "It's fucking perfect, Liam. Perfect."

Liam's relief is evident in his wide smile.

Later, the scant remains of two foot-long chili dogs pushed to the center of the table, sipping on Cokes, and belching, more or less softly, they review what they've seen.

"What was your favorite?" Liam asks.

"'Pastoral boy fishing'," Matt answers immediately. "By Boucher, I think." He grins. "I was totally imagining you in those pants and loose shirt and how easily I could get my hands and mouth to every part of you. Bro, I was totally sporting wood after that one. That's why everyone was staring."

"No," Liam says, shaking his head. "Everyone was staring because we were holding hands."

"No way, brah. It was totally envying my manhood; I'm tellin' ya. I intend to only go out free-ballin' from now on."

"Want to grab a movie or something or go back to the motel?"

"Motel, brah. That okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

They bus their table and head out.

"Is your back okay like this?"

"I'm good," Matt replies without opening his eyes. He's stretched out flat on the bed, without a pillow. His right leg is straight, the left is bent at the knee, his arm rests overs his eyes.

Liam lies down along his right side. "I've been imaging, all afternoon, you fucking me. Now, I'm thinking I'd rather just lie beside you. Is that weird?"

"No. It's not weird." Matt moves his arms and turns his head. "Although, if your legs are strong enough you could squat over my dick and fuck yourself with my boner. That wouldn't strain my back."

"How romantic. You say the sweetest things."

"What's your favorite movie?"

"Too broad a question. Genre'?" If Liam is taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation, it's not apparent in his voice.

"Comedy."

"Conventional, British, or slapstick?"

"Jesus, dude. Seriously? What the fuck is your favorite comedy?"

"Airplane. Wait, no, Life of Brian."

"I suppose that's your cutesy way of saying, Search for the Holy Grail?"

"Huh?"

"You know, 'what's your favorite color? Blue, no green' from the Holy Grail."

"Oh, sure, cool. No, I just changed my mind."

Matt shifts to look at his lover, aghast. "Wait a fucking sec. You're telling me you prefer Life of Brian over Search for the Holy Grail? Are you serious?"

They talk late into the night, stopping at time for a caress, a kiss, but nothing more.

***

When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is Kent. Asleep, face relaxed, he looks ten years younger. I'm surprised at how much stress the awake Kent hides. You'd never tell it by his manner but it's there, in the lines of his face that shouldn't be there yet. His breath rumbles in the back of his throat, not quite a snore.

His erection tents the sheet. I fight the urge to pull it down, expose him. I tell myself it's okay; that all I'll do is look. I know myself well enough to know that's a crock of shit. I'll want to touch him and if I touch him, I'll want to stroke him and if I stroke him...you get the idea.

My own cock is throbbing. I start to slide out of bed. I'll drain the hose, make coffee, distract myself. That will take care of the problem. I pause, hand clutching the rumpled edge of sheet draped across my chest. There are other solutions to a throbbing cock.

Am I being stupid? Will I freak Kent out? I'm smart enough to know I like him, a lot. I'd like to know him better. That makes me cautious. My aching cock makes me bold. A dilemma. A compromise? Yes, get up and go to the john but not to take a leak, or not just to take a leak, but to stroke one out. That would be less risky. Fuck.

I tell myself there's nothing wrong with giving my cock a few strokes while I contemplate my options. That's bullshit. I've made my decision; I simply don't want to admit it.

My cock is hard beneath my fingers but it's still a piss boner, not a passion boner. The head of my cock is dry. So, is my mouth. I'm not sure I have enough spit to lube my hand. I settle for stroking with a loose grasp, barely squeezing, letting my hand whisper over my cock. I only squeeze when the circle of my fingers rides over my cock.

I make a few, quick, short strokes over the ridge of my crown. When I squeeze, there's a drop of dew, well almost a drop. I stroke some more. Long, loose strokes over the shaft. Staccato strokes just over the crown. I bite my lip, trying to keep my breathing quiet.

I squeeze again. Better. Still not enough for a proper hand job but I'm getting there.

My other hand finds my nipple and I pinch it, hard. I pull. Twist. Pull some more and pinch as hard as I can. I hold it, letting the ache build before letting go. Blood rushes into my nipple and the ache jumps an octave or two; my nipple sings. I rub it lightly with a fingertip.

Down lower, things are progressing nicely. I'm wet enough now that my hand moves more smoothly. I press a fingertip to the head of my cock and pull a shining string of precum away from my cock.

Kent's fingers touch my hip and I break into goosebumps. His fingers trail up and down my hip.

I run one finger up and down my cock, offering. His fingers continue to dance over my hip. It's fine. He knows his invited; that's the important thing. I start to stroke myself again.

His fingers move to the top of my leg but no further. That's okay. I love the feel of his hand touching me. It's enough for now.

My grip tightens. I stroke faster. My fingers begin to pluck, over and over again, at my nipple. My back stiffens - and I cum.

The first stream hits the headboard and my cheek. The next my chest. I thrust my hips into the air. Cum lands on my cheek again.

I keep jerking long after the jizz stops.

Kent's fingers leave my hip. A fingertip touches a pool of cum in the center of my chest and then moves to circle my nipple.

***

Matt and Liam wake at the same time. When they open their eyes they are staring at each other. They smile.

"Bitch," Liam whispers.

"Ass wipe," Matt replies.

Liam rises and rests on one elbow. He's too young, too infatuated, and just maybe too much in love already to worry about morning breath. Matt's lips are dry. His tongue isn't. The lust that had been swallowed by last night's relaxed conversation overwhelms him. He pulls away and climbs to his knees. The sheet is a jumble at their feet. Matt's cock juts over his belly. Liam lifts it and engulfs it with his mouth. He tongues the slit, desperate for a taste of his lover's body.

It's not enough. He twists and gropes inside the bedside table. He'd been amazed at the number of lubricants the CVS offered. He pops the top of the one he'd selected and squeezes. Nothing.

"Goddamn it.," he mumbles in frustration. He twists the top off and plucks at the safety seal. In his haste, it takes several tries. He's on the verge of chucking the bottle at the wall when Matt's hand touches his knee.

"Hey, let me. It's cool."

A snarky retort rises in Liam's throat. It's turned to smoke, like a vampire in sunlight, by Matt's soft smile. Liam hands him the bottle.

"Come up here," Matt whispers as he peels the seal off the bottle. He hands it to Liam, pulls his head down and kisses the side of his neck. "I want you so bad," he whispers and kisses him again. "But hang on a sec. Let me grab a washcloth and a towel."

Liam blushes. He reaches back into the bedside table. When he turns, he's holding a travel pack of hand wipes.

"Thought of everything, eh?" Matt growls. "Turn around." Liam looks confused. "Turn around, on all fours, face toward my feet," Matt orders.

Liam does as he's told. There is a moment of silence, broken by the sound of the bottle being closed. Liam moans softly when Matt's fingers probe his ass crack, anointing him with the silky coolness of the lube. Abruptly, with no warning, a finger penetrates him. He falls forward onto his chest but his ass doesn't move. The finger probes. Another joins it. There's a plastic click. Lube runs down the crack of his ass, where the fingers work it inside, spreading the lube, spreading his sphincter.

The fingers leave his ass. He groans. He looks over. Matt's face is flushed. His hand rubs lube over his cock. Liam starts to turn.

"No, come over here but face my feet."

Liam straddles Matt's legs.

"Lower your ass." He does. "Lean forward a little." He does that, too.

The head of my Matt's cock touches his asshole.

He knows what to do. He pushes himself onto Matt's cock. It's not difficult. His freshman roommate hadn't returned for the spring semester. He had the room to himself and he had gotten into the habit of fucking himself with a dildo when he jerked off. Plus, Matt had used half the bottle of lube.

He pushes and pushes until he feels the stubble of Matt's pubes on his ass cheeks.

"Don't shave your cock for a while, or not all of it, okay?" He whispers. Matt answers by putting his hands on his hips and pulling him down harder onto his cock.

"Fuck, you should see the way my cock looks buried in your ass," Matt snarls.

"Can you reach my phone?"

"Seriously?" Matt moans and his fingers dig into Liam's hips.

"Fuck yeah, I want to see."

Matt stretches. Liam hears him gasp when he stretches a little too far and his back reminds him it's been broken.

"Got it."

Liam tells him his PIN.

"You'll need to do most of the work, otherwise I won't be able to keep the camera on the action."

Liam's response is to start moving up and down on Matt's cock.

Matt has never been this turned on. His eyes dart from the small screen to the reality. He ends up watching most of the action on the screen. It's like he's watching himself and someone else at the same time.

He steadies his cock with his free hand. Liam is pulling his ass off his cock at times and then impales his ass on Matt's cock. Matt braces himself when he does, afraid Liam will forget and put too much weight on his hips and hurt his back, though at this point he's not sure he'd care.

He's fascinated by the way the head of his cock swells when it's free of the constraints of Liam's sphincter. He's amazed at how thin the skin of Liam's asshole looks when it's stretched all the way around the base of his cock.

He fumbles beside him and turns the camera away for a second while he discretely uses a wipe to clean up a bit of mess. There's very little, actually. He's surprised. He's as new to this as Liam. One of his fears has been that ass sex will be messy and gross.

Hurt back or not, he has to move, has to; he can't just lay here any longer. He puts his free hand on Liam's hip and begins to thrust upward. They fall into an easy quick rhythm.

"Cum in my ass," Liam pleads.

Matt's thrusts grow more vigorous, he's held back only by the tightness in his back if he lifts his hips too high off the bed.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck, dude." He pulls Liam down with the hand on his hip as his cock twitches and spurts.

Liam, lost as he is in the feeling of a real cock in his ass, a real cock that swells and jerks, is careful not to let too much of his weight rest on Matt. He swivels his hips in small circles, as Matt's body jerks beneath him. It seems like forever before Matt is still.

"Hang on, brah. I want to make sure I get this," Matt pants behind him. Liam looks over his shoulder. Matt is pointing the phone's camera at his ass. Matt's other hand urges him up. He slides off Matt's cock. Matt catches his breath.

"Holy fuck, dude. This is fucking hot. I had no idea my cum would look so hot running down your ass crack."

Liam swings around in the bed. His head dips towards Matt's cock.

"No, baby. Not this time," Matt tells him as he puts his free hand on his shoulder. "Hang on." He punches the phone off and pulls one of the wipes out of the pouch. His hand disappears between Liam's legs. The wipe is cold on his ass. Matt's hand is gentle but Liam can tell his ass is going to be sore. He twists, grabs a wipe, and returns the favor, wiping Matt's softening cock off. He uses another to wipe up the cum that's run down his balls.