Page 61 of The Sound Of Us

I’m half naked, wearing only a pair of sweats, so when his hands flatten against my chest, moving up and down, any doubt about doing this with Axel before knowing what brought him to me like this flies out the window.

I may be grounded and diplomatic. Cautious. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m a selfish asshole.

I reach for his jacket, stripping him of it. Underneath is a jersey and, underneath that, a sweatshirt. I frown. It’s cold, but not that cold. The light is still on, so when I remove all the layers of Axel’s clothes, the red smudges on his shoulders scream back at me.

My eyes widen, meeting his. He drops his gaze and reaches for me again, but this time I’m not giving in to his desperate search for my touch.

I sign furiously. “This? What happened?”

He shakes his head, trying to kiss me again. I hold him at arm’s length, turning him around slowly.

A sledgehammer of fury blasts through my chest. The same red marks follow along his back. His lower back is completely red. The area near his left ear is also red. I lift my hand to touch the side of his head. He winces. I’m going to tear something apart.

“Doctor,” I sign urgently.

He shakes his head. Then he signs, I’m fine, and he does it perfectly, except he also includes, how are you? at the end. Another time, I would have lifted him in the air with joy over his attempt to communicate with me like this. But not now. He’s hurt. In pain. I can’t bear it.

I grab my jacket and head for the door. Axel pulls me back. “Where are you going?” he asks.

Angry that I can’t communicate with him fast enough, I sign harshly. I’m going to kill him.

He frowns and I’m angry at him for not understanding. I jerk out of his grasp, but I think he’s figured out what I’m planning.

He turns me back to him, his palms on my cheeks, holding onto me tightly. Shaking his head desperately, he says, “No, Eli. Stay, please. Make it right. I’m like a corpse. I’m not any good at this but please, Eli, make it right.”

I don’t understand. Corpse? Did that fucking cunt down the road tell him that?

I am making it right. I’m going to pulverize that bastard’s face and have him thrown in jail, and then I’m going to take Axel back home with me. Marriage or not. Vows or not.

But he holds onto me tighter. “Make it right,” he repeats.

I don’t know another way to protect him. Defend him. Give him justice. He drops one hand and when he brings it up again, it’s to press the square packet of a condom into my hand. Tears fall down his precious face. “Make it right, Eli. I beg you. Make everything right.”

I can’t get past the lump in my throat. Make it right? Make this right? Make what exists between us right? Touch him, claim him and make him mine even when he belongs to someone else?

No. He belongs to no one but me. I take the condom from him.

I’ll make it right. Reaching down, I slip his sweats off. Seeing he has two pairs on makes my blood boil. I drop to my knees. Two pairs of socks. I’ll kill that fucking cunt.

My lips graze his thighs. Lightly muscled, light dusting of hair. I press my lips to the juncture between his thighs. My cheek brushes against his heavy erection. When I drop my head to rub my nose against the base of his cock, his fingers sink into my hair, pulling.

I bury my face in his groin, rubbing up and down, side to side. Round and round. His cock is so beautiful. So perfect. Full and thick. His balls, big and heavy. My chin rubs up his balls. Up, up to his beautiful penis. Memories of what he tasted like, how he felt in my mouth, force my mouth to seek out another taste.

But I want to savour this, so I ghost my lips over the crown of his cock. I’m rewarded with a sharp tug of my hair. Axel’s fingers dig into my scalp. His thighs tremble. Pulling back, I look up at him. His forehead is creased, his eyes on me and his mouth open. His chest moves up and down rapidly. I rise, backing him up until we get to the bed. Pushing slightly, I urge him onto the bed. I stand back, admiring his nakedness. Lean and strong. Sinewy muscles. But has he lost some weight?

He watches me watching him and then looks away, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it over his body.

I drop onto the bed, between his legs, spreading them wide. He bites his lip, uncertainty dancing across his face. I tug at the blanket he’s got captured in his fist and then give him a questioning look. He lets go, allowing me to see his nakedness once more.

Axel’s dick lies proudly against his stomach. I lean forward and lick slowly over the crown, taking all his pre-cum into my mouth. His body bows off the bed, and when I look up, his head is thrown back and digging into the bed, his hands spread wide out. He’s a fucking wet dream. So open and exposed to me. For me. Because of me.

I suck the crown into my mouth. Another jerk of his hips. He leaks into my mouth.

With his cock in my mouth, I reach underneath and rub his balls between my fingers. Flattening my palm, I rub him, then hold all that heaviness in the palm of my hand. He writhes under me.

He’s not a goddam fucking corpse. He’s so perfect. So beautiful. So alive beneath me.

I’ll make every fucking thing right.

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