Authors: Rowan Speedwell
Z
ACH
was drifting in and out of consciousness; every time he started to wake up, he was lulled back to sleep by gentle fingers and the warmth beneath his cheek and hand. At one point he realized David was speaking in a low voice, but all he got out of it was a soothing rumble—no words, just David’s diaphragm vibrating and a faint susurrus of sound—and he drifted back to sleep again. It was so restful, just floating like this, warm and peaceful and safe.
Eventually, though, he opened his eyes and peeled his cheek away from David’s bare belly. “Ungh,” he said coherently.
David chuckled. “I thought you were going to sleep all morning.”
He shifted and sat up in the narrow bed. “Comfortable,” he said, poking David’s abdomen. “Your fault.”
“Uh huh,” David said skeptically, and sat up, draping his arms over his knees. “Mom stopped by. Your mother’s panicking because she’s lost you.”
“Shit! What time is it?”
“Six-thirty. No biggie—Mom said she’d call her and tell her you were here. But she also said to call her yourself when you got up.”
“Are we getting up?”
David smiled faintly. “It’s only six-thirty, and it’s Sunday. It’s up to you; you’re the one with the guest.”
“Shit. Mike.” Zach rubbed his face. “I gotta call Jane.”
David reached over and snagged his cell phone from the nightstand and handed it to him. When Jane answered, Zach said, “I’m fine, Mom. I just fell asleep at Taff’s.”
“Annie told me,” Jane said. “That’s okay, honey. I was just worried when you weren’t home. Mike got up and did some laps in the pool, but he said since he doesn’t have to be at his sister’s until tonight, he’d see you when—and I quote—you get your lazy ass out of bed.” She laughed. “He also said he never gets the chance to sleep in so he was going to catch a couple more hours, so you don’t have to rush home.”
“That’s good,” Zach said. “Taff and I were talking into the wee small hours, and I don’t think I got more than a couple hours myself.”
“Well, go back to sleep for a while and come home when you’re ready. Therapy’s not ’til ten-thirty, so that should give you time for a nice snooze.”
“Okay.” Zach hesitated, then said, “I love you, Mom, you know that, don’t you?”
There was silence a long moment, then Jane said, “Yes, honey.” Her voice sounded funny, but Zach didn’t know what else to say, so he just said, “Okay, then. I’ll see you later,” and disconnected the call.
David was watching him, his eyes thoughtful.
“What?” Zach asked defensively.
“Nothing,” he said. “So. Sleep? Shower?”
Zach ran his tongue over his lips and tasted. Ecch. Morning breath. “Shower and mouthwash,” he decided.
“Okay. Go ahead. I can lend you some boxers if you want clean UnderRoos.”
Zach snorted. “Underwear?”
David raised an eyebrow, but said only, “It’s your ass. There are some disposable toothbrushes in the cabinet; Sandy feels compelled to supply all and sundry with as many opportunities for brushing as possible. One of the problems with having a dentist in the family. On the other hand, I haven’t paid for toothpaste in years.”
Zach chuckled and went into the bathroom, closing the door. He brushed first and tried David’s citrus-flavored mouthwash—not bad, better than that crappy mint stuff, or the mediciney stuff—then with a worried glance at the closed door, stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the shower, making sure the curtain was inside the tub so that the water wouldn’t splash out onto the floor.
He was rinsing his hair when he heard the bathroom door open. “Taff?”
“You were expecting someone else?”
“No.”
“Just brushing my teeth,” David assured him. “I won’t flush and make you scream. I owe you that from last night.”
“And I’m grateful,” Zach said. He heard the water go on in the sink and the sound of splashing.
There was a full-length mirror set in the back of the bathroom door; through the space left by the shower curtain Zach could watch David brushing his teeth, bending over to spit in the sink, the thin cotton of his pajama pants stretching over his round ass. Zach’s mouth went dry and his hand slid without volition to his rising cock. Then David turned off the water and slid his pajama pants off. Zach’s breath stuck in his throat.
“Zach,” David said, and looked up into the mirror over the sink to meet his eyes. Too late, Zach realized David could see him watching, reflected from the other mirror. “Zach, I’m coming in there.”
“No!” Zach breathed. “No, Taff….”
But the shower curtain was sliding back, its rings chiming musically on the rod, and David was there, facing him, the water sluicing over his tanned body. He pulled the curtain closed again and, before Zach could speak, put his hands on his face the way he had last night. “I’m here,” he said softly, “looking at you,” but never taking his eyes from Zach’s. “I’m looking at
you
,” he said again, and his mouth found Zach’s, his tongue questing for entrance, and Zach let him in, let David’s hands slide from his face to his neck, down his arms to draw them up and around David as he stepped closer, his body coming to rest against Zach’s.
A moan broke from Zach’s throat as he pulled David in tightly, his hands curving over the taut muscles of David’s ass. David sighed into Zach’s mouth and rubbed his pelvis lightly against Zach, his erection hard and hot.
Zach’s fingers, still slippery with shampoo, slid over David’s ass and down into the tight crease. His fingertips stroked the puckered opening and David bucked, his cock thumping against Zach’s. He reached down and grabbed both his and Zach’s cocks in one hand.
Zach froze.
“Sorry,” David murmured, and reached past Zach to grab the bottle of shower gel. Pouring some into his hand, he reached down and smoothed the gel over both of them before taking hold again. “Better?”
“What the fuck are you… agghhh….” Zach trailed off, staggering back against the tub surround and closing his eyes at the phenomenal feeling of David’s cock against his. “
Fuck
.”
David chuckled, and leaned in to lay his lips on Zach’s throat, running his tongue over Zach’s Adam’s apple until Zach shivered. “Never done this before?”
“Shit, no,” Zach gasped. He reached for David again, pulling him in as tight as he could, trapping David’s hand between them. David eased him back to give himself room, but compensated by finding his lips again. Zach moaned into his mouth, his hands gripping David’s shoulders for balance, letting David take control again. But it felt so good, so natural, David’s hand on him, on them….
A second set of fingers settled on his balls, stroking and tugging gently; he whimpered in response. “Too much?” David whispered, and he shook his head, desperate for the feelings to go on. It was so different from fucking, different from the few times he’d dared let himself get blown. It was like jerking off, but so, so much more satisfying, with David’s warm, wet hands and David’s warm, wet body and David’s warm, wet mouth.
Sensations more intense than he’d ever felt shot up his spine; he stiffened, cried out, and came in those warm hands. “Yes,” David murmured against his throat, “just like that,” and his mouth tightened on Zach’s skin, sucking up a bruise as David himself came against Zach’s belly.
They held each other up as the water washed them down. Zach found himself breathless, panting as if he’d run miles. David laughed weakly and kissed Zach just behind his ear, then bit the lobe gently. “Liked that, did you?”
“Uh huh,” Zach acknowledged, reduced to grunts.
David reached behind himself and turned off the shower. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go back to bed. For a while, anyway.” He kissed Zach’s mouth again, tenderly this time, and climbed out of the tub. He tossed Zach a towel and got one for himself before padding back out into the bedroom.
Zach leaned back against the tub surround, drying himself off slowly. He could hear David in the bedroom opening drawers, then a wad of fabric flew in through the open bathroom to land on the floor beside the tub. “Clean T-shirt and sweats,” David announced. “I’m not eager to get dressed just yet and your damn jeans are hell on my fragile, delicate skin.”
“Pansy,” Zach called back and put on the sweats.
David was sitting on the bed in his Marvin the Martian pajama bottoms and a red T-shirt that didn’t match, that proclaimed “I’m with Stupid” with an arrow pointing upward. “Nice,” Zach said. “Sandy give you that?”
“No, Maggie. The women in my life see it as their mission to totally destroy any self-confidence I might have.”
“Is it working?” Zach sat down beside David, who immediately took his hand and laced their fingers together.
“No,” David said, grinning. He didn’t do anything else, just sat there, his hand in Zach’s, smiling.
“So,” Zach said after a few moments of silence, “what is this? We going steady or something?” Nerves put an edge to his voice, and David’s grin faded.
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” he said neutrally, and started to release Zach’s hand. Zach tightened his grip.
“I just want to know,” Zach said hoarsely. “I’m kind of out of my depth here, Taff.” To his acute embarrassment, his voice shook. “I don’t know what you expect or anything, and I’m kind of afraid of fucking this up—whatever ‘this’ is, assuming it’s anything. I mean—Jesus. I sound like a girl. Fuck.”
David was quiet a moment, then said, “It’s hard for me too, dweeb. I keep forgetting that you don’t really know anything about sex or relationships. Just fucking. And that’s the least part of it—the easy part. The part that doesn’t require risk, or involvement. You should have learned about it the right way, relationships, emotions.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t, did I?” Zach said, and let go of David’s hand. Standing, he rubbed his neck and went on. “I don’t know jack about relationships, Taff. I told you at the beginning that I was fucked up. Guess you know now just how fucked up I am.”
“Sit down,” David said quietly.
“Why? Come on, Taff, you know as well as I do that this is gonna go nowhere.”
“You’re fucking it up.”
“What?”
“You said a minute ago that you were afraid of fucking this up,” David said. “Well, if you don’t sit down and kiss me, you will be fucking it up.”
Zach rubbed numb palms on his thighs.
Shit,
he thought.
Not now. Not now.
“I gotta go,” he said.
David frowned. “Jesus, Zach, you’re sweating. What’s the matter?”
“I gotta go,” he repeated, and went hastily into the bathroom to retrieve his jeans and still-damp T-shirt from last night. David got up and followed him, grasping his arm when he went to push past him out the bathroom door.
“Slow down, Zach! What’s going on?”
He jerked free. “
I have to go
,” he said fiercely. “I have to
go
.”
“No! Jesus, Zach, you’re freakin’ me out here. What the hell is wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Zach answered, then realized he’d said too much. His heart was pounding so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. “I mean, nothing’s wrong. I just gotta go.”
“You’re clammy and you’re pale and you’re scaring the shit outta me,” David said anxiously. “Jesus, what’s wrong? You’re sick? Siddown and let me call your folks. Shit, let me call 911….”
“No! No, I ain’t sick! It’s nothing!” He had to hold it together until he got away from here. Outside it would be cooler—there’d be more
air
for God’s sake—and he’d be able to breathe. He heard himself wheezing. Shit, he was already hyperventilating. “It’s….” he wheezed, trying to speak, but the words weren’t coming; his lungs were too busy trying to get air.
He saw David with his cell phone in hand and lunged for it, knocking it onto the floor. “No!” he managed. “Not….”
“You’re having a heart attack or something. Jesus, Zach!” David grabbed him as he stumbled.
“No. No.” Zach hauled in as deep a breath as his compressed airways could manage. “P… panic attack,” he said, and sobbed for breath as the room spun dizzily around him.
“Jesus!” David breathed, but managed to shove him onto the bed before he fell. “Can I get you anything? Water… you got meds?”
“Jeans….” Zach waved at the pants he’d dropped when he stumbled.
David picked them up and went through the pockets, pulling out Zach’s prescription meds and the inhaler. Zach grabbed the inhaler gratefully.
The adrenaline in the inhaler relaxed his bronchia, and fresh, sweet air flooded his lungs; using the inhaler focused him, and the hyperventilation eased as well. He was still shaking uncontrollably as he took the third puff, but not as hard as he had been. “Thanks,” he said wearily.
“Valium?” David said, holding up the prescription bottle from his other pocket.
“Should have taken it earlier,” Zach said. “Not much good in the middle. But I don’t like it.”
“You take this when you’re drinking, you’re gonna wake up dead,” David said soberly.
Zach, still trembling, merely nodded.
David knelt on the floor at Zach’s feet and put his hands on Zach’s knees. “You’re still shaking,” he observed. “Anything else I can do?”
Zach shook his head. The hysterical crying that was the most embarrassing part of his usual panic attack seemed to be holding off for now, and he was grateful. Bad enough he was so humiliated in front of David without having to cry like a baby as well. But he was exhausted, so he lay down on the bed, not even caring that his head wasn’t even near a pillow.
D
AVID
knelt beside the bed, feeling his own heart slowing. This panic attack had terrified
him
. He’d heard about them, but had never witnessed one before. He’d thought they were just nerves or something; he didn’t realize that there were actual physical symptoms, let along such severe ones. He’d been certain Zach was having a heart attack; his skin had gone gray and clammy and he’d obviously been short of breath. It was weird. Worse than weird: frightening. “Does this happen a lot?” he asked Zach softly.
Zach didn’t answer right away, and David was just beginning to think he’d fallen asleep when Zach said in a drained, exhausted voice, “Yeah, too often. Started when I was first in the hospital.”