Unquiet (19 page)

Eliot turned his head as if desperate for Loren’s kiss, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets, and Loren ravished his mouth with his, driving his tongue deep, pressing Eliot down into the mattress with his full weight and snugging his enormous erection into Eliot’s moist crack. He circled his hips, dragging his shaft in full strokes up and down between Eliot’s cheeks, finally pushing up on his hands so he could watch the tip of his cock as it disappeared deep into the shadowy cleft and then reappeared, dripping with excitement.

“Fuck me, Loren,” Eliot whimpered, writhing beneath him. “Please fuck me.”

Loren reached over to the bedside table for supplies, suiting and slicking up before straddling Eliot, pulling his cheeks wide apart again and rocking the fat head of his cock against Eliot’s pulsing hole.

Loren watched as the tight muscles fought him, and he pressed forward relentlessly, gritting his teeth as they relaxed and opened, allowing him to slip inside. Eliot gasped and tried to twist away from the stretch and burn, but Loren put his palm to the small of his back and held him down as he pulsed with his hips, working his way deeper.

“That’s it,” Loren rasped encouragingly. “You can take me, baby.”

“Yes,” Eliot moaned, “I want it. I want it all.” He spread his legs as wide as he could but he didn’t try to push up on his knees, and Loren came down fully over top of him, sliding his arm under Eliot’s shoulders and pulling up on them until there was a slight arch in his back.

Loren dug his knees in on either side of Eliot’s hips and began to thrust, the weight of his body and the arch to Eliot’s back keeping him immobilized.

“Take what I give you, El,” Loren growled, pulling out and then snapping his hips down hard, hilting himself. “You don’t need to be in control, just take me. Feel me.”

Eliot writhed beneath him, twisting his fingers into the sheet, his moans ratcheting up to the high-pitched needy noises that had Loren’s balls pulling up tight.

“Not ready to come yet,” he growled, easing off, and he rolled to his back, not breaking their connection, Eliot lying faceup on top of Loren, Loren still buried deep in his ass.

Loren planted his feet on the bed and brought his knees up, spreading them wide, draping Eliot’s thighs across his and holding him open, one arm banded across Eliot’s chest and one palm resting on his abdomen.

Loren thrust up powerfully, and Eliot reached over their heads and braced his palms against the headboard, his head thrown back against Loren’s shoulder, his mouth open with his gasping moans.

“Feels so good, Loren,” he sobbed. “Feels so fucking good.”

Loren slid his palm down from Eliot’s abdomen, intending to take his erect cock in hand, except—it wasn’t there. Loren stopped his motions, his suddenly tentative hand sliding down to cup Eliot’s completely limp dick. Confused, Loren stroked a few times, but there was no response.

“El?” he said. “What—”

“Don’t stop, Loren, please,” Eliot whimpered, circling his hips, turning his head to press his lips to Loren’s cheek. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” His voice trailed off as Loren flattened out on the bed, the motion releasing Eliot’s spread legs.

“But you’re not enjoying this!” Loren snapped, and he lifted Eliot off of him, ignoring his continued protests. “You should have told me you weren’t liking it.
Jesus
!”

“I did like it,” Eliot cried, his eyes stricken. “I loved it. Why did you stop?”

“Because you’re as limp as a fucking wet noodle,” Loren shouted, hurt and confusion raging through him. He felt like the worst sort of user, inflicting himself where he hadn’t been wanted. Embarrassment and anger fueled his words as he lashed out, “If you ever don’t want to fuck, all you have to do is say so, El. You don’t have to fake it like I’m one of your strip club customers!”

Eliot pushed to his feet, tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks, his face twisted with hurt and rage.

“I wasn’t goddamn faking it, you asshole,” he shouted. “It’s my
fucking
medication, okay?” He sobbed once, then turned and started to flee toward the bathroom. Loren exploded up out of the bed, coming up behind him in two long strides. He wrapped Eliot up in his arms, horror and remorse flooding through him as he realized what was going on.

“Shhh, baby,” he crooned, his voice shaky. “Shhh.”

Eliot fought him for a minute, but Loren wouldn’t let him go, and finally Eliot subsided, going limp in Loren’s arms.

Loren coaxed him back to the bed, watching as Eliot crawled under the covers and turned his back with finality. He got rid of the condom and slid underneath the covers as well, draping his arm over Eliot’s waist and pulling him back against him, trying to ignore how stiff and forbidding Eliot’s body language was.

They lay there in silence for several minutes until Loren whispered, “I’m sorry, El. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Eliot didn’t look at him but said with bitterness, “I thought maybe you were different, Loren. That maybe my relationship with you wouldn’t hinge on whether I’m able to fuck or not.”

Pain knifed through Loren, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “Nothing about our relationship hinges on sex, Eliot. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting what happened, and I reacted badly, thinking that I had forced on you something that you didn’t want.” Eliot still didn’t say anything, and Loren whispered, “I had no idea your medications might affect you like that, absolutely none, especially after our shower earlier. It surprised me and upset me, and I had the worst possible selfish reaction, making it all about me.” He pressed his lips to Eliot’s ear. “I’m sorry, Eliot.”

Loren lay there for a while in the miserable silence, trying with desperation to think of a way to salvage this, holding on to Eliot tightly, stubbornly despite the fact he hadn’t relaxed one inch, his body rigid as a board.

At last Loren let go of him and rolled to his back, throwing his forearm across his eyes and sighing. “So your medications make it so you can’t get an erection sometimes?”

There still was no answer, but Loren could feel the bed shift as Eliot moved as if turning over to face him, and Loren held his breath. Maybe asking Eliot to educate him was the way to fix this mess.

“Sometimes, yeah,” Eliot replied at last. “I’ve been on different ones that affect my libido too, not just my dick, to where I’m not interested in sex at all. But there are times, like with you just now, where I get excited and I want it, but I just can’t get it up. And everyone seems to think my enjoyment hinges on my ability to jizz all over the fucking sheets.”

Eliot’s voice had turned bitter again, and Loren opened his eyes and looked at him, moving his hand so he was cupping Eliot’s cheek.

“It
is
going to be different with me, El,” he said quietly, “because I’m interested in educating myself and I want to understand you and what’s going on with you. Please, baby, be patient with my mistakes.” Eliot’s lips trembled a little, and Loren passed his thumb over them in silent apology. “I want you to know that I will never, ever willingly hurt you. And the times when I do, like just now, I will do whatever it takes to make it right. But you’ve got to meet me halfway and talk to me.”

Relief flooded through him when Eliot sighed and lay down against his chest again. Loren pulled him close, hugging him fiercely.

“It felt so good, Loren, just being so close to you,” Eliot whispered. “Having you inside me, holding me like that. I felt wanted and safe. Isn’t that what making love is supposed to be about?”

Loren felt a huge lump in his throat, and his voice was hoarse when he said, “It is, El. And I forgot that for a moment.”

Loren had always prided himself on being a good lover, whether he was in bed with someone he cared deeply about, such as Kai, or the twinks he picked up in gay bars and played “daddy” with. He’d never had anyone leave his bed unsatisfied, and with men it always seemed so easy: thrusting, jerking, sucking, somehow and in some way everybody got off and left happy.

And now, like with everything else that pertained to Eliot, it seemed Loren would have to adjust his thinking about sex too, and learn to look at it in a different way.

Loren was so deep in thought that he started in surprise when he felt warm lips cover his, and he relaxed back into the bed and let Eliot take the lead, opening his mouth to his kiss. He drifted in a sensual haze as Eliot aroused him to readiness again with his lips, tongue, and hands, smoothing a condom on before pulling Loren down over top of him and wrapping his legs around his hips, taking him deep inside.

Loren closed his eyes, letting himself become completely attuned to Eliot’s sighs and hitching moans, the motions of his body underneath his, the pounding of the pulse in the hollow of his throat under Loren’s lips, the feel of his fingers digging into the flexing muscles of Loren’s back, the way he arched and rose up to meet Loren’s powerful thrusts inside him.

He found he was able to slow down, take his time, his own enjoyment enhanced by the way Eliot’s green eyes looked deep into his own when Loren pressed their foreheads together, the way Eliot’s lips felt against his ear as he murmured words of encouragement and praise in a hoarse voice, his breathing rough. And when Loren couldn’t hold back anymore, he gasped out his pleasure into the curve of Eliot’s neck, reveling in the feel of Eliot holding him close afterward, cradling him with his arms and legs, stroking his hands up and down Loren’s back as his breathing slowed.

It was amazing and beautiful and special, and he felt closer to Eliot in that moment than he’d ever felt to any human being in his life. Eliot hadn’t come—hadn’t even been hard. It wasn’t important, Loren realized; what was important was what they shared together on that rumpled futon, something that went far beyond the simple act of sex, something that was an expression of feeling, of trust, the deepest form of communication two people could possibly have.

Loren finally understood what it was like to truly make love.

A FEW
hours later, Loren sprawled on Eliot’s tiny couch as he watched Eliot pack for the hospital.

“I hope this place is nice,” Loren ventured, not sure what there was to say about it. It wasn’t like Eliot was going on vacation.

Eliot snorted. “Anything’s better than a county jail psych ward,” he said in a dry voice. “And there’s a lot to be said for walking in under my own power and not being wheeled in strapped to a gurney.”

Loren winced. “They did that?”

“A couple times,” Eliot said simply. “When you’re raving and psychotic, there’s not a whole lot of choice. Get you in behind locked doors, dose you up with massive amounts of Zyprexa to get you down off the ceiling until they can start experimenting with different med combos. At last they might hit on one that works and doesn’t give you side effects that fuck you up even more than the disease.”

“Like what? I know we talked about it a little bit before, but can you tell me again?” Loren asked.

Eliot cocked his head at him. “You really interested in this?” His voice was skeptical, and Loren reached out and snagged Eliot around the waist, pulling him down on his lap.

“I told you,” he said quietly, “that I want to be educated in every aspect of what you’re dealing with. If we’re going to be together when you get out, I need to know what to expect, good and bad.”

Eliot draped his arms around Loren’s neck and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You really want to be with me, Loren?” he asked. “I’ll make your life hell.”

Loren gave him a little shake. “My life with you in it could never be hell. But of course I’m interested in the best quality of life that you and I can manage, and yes, I want to be with you, El.”

Eliot took Loren’s cheeks between his palms. “It’s not going to be easy to be with me. When you walk away, and you
will
—”
He put his fingers over Loren’s lips when Loren opened his mouth to protest. “When you walk away, I’m going to pray you’re the one who comes back.”

Loren pulled Eliot against him and buried his lips in his hair. “Just try for me, El,” he murmured. “Do what the doctors tell you to do, don’t shut me out, and I will never walk away.”

Eliot gave a sad smile. “That’s what they all say. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Loren.” He patted Loren’s cheek and climbed off his lap, leaning down to brush his warm mouth against his.

Finally Eliot finished packing his things, and Loren took all the money out of the freezer and jammed it into his own duffle, saying, “I’ll keep this safe for you until you’re back, okay?”

Eliot nodded, and Loren grabbed up his duffle and Eliot’s suitcase before heading out to the car, leaving Eliot to turn appliances and lights off and lock up.

They spent the car ride to the rehab center in silence, although Eliot threaded his fingers with Loren’s and didn’t let go the whole way. Loren stroked his thumb soothingly over the back of Eliot’s hand, and when they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, Loren shut the truck off and made no move to get out.

“Let’s just sit here for a moment, El,” he murmured. “We don’t have to rush in.”

Eliot sighed and put his head back against the seat. “I’m not scared to go in, Loren,” he whispered. “I’m just going to miss you. It sucks that I’m not allowed visitors for the first three weeks. And I don’t care about anyone else, just you.”

Loren lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed Eliot’s fingers before squeezing them in commiseration.

“It’ll be hard on me too,” he said. “But once you’re allowed visitors, I’ll be here as often as I can, hopefully every night. I promise.”

“You’re going back to Oregon for Christmas, then?” Eliot asked in a wistful tone.

Loren nodded. “I need to start planning my move down here, and I want to spend some time with my family and friends before I leave there for good.”

“Your ex?” There was the faintest thread of jealousy in his tone, and Loren smiled reassuringly.

“My
friend
,” he emphasized. “He’s with someone else now, El, and we haven’t been together in that way for a long time. There’s nothing between us but friendship, and there never will be again. Jeremy would kick my ass.”