Page 37 of Aftermath

Austin rubbed Cam's soaked dick and inhaled deeply, feeling his mouth water. It was heady and nearly dizzying.

As the last trickles of their releases seeped out of their cocks, Austin brought a wet finger to Cam's mouth and brushed it over his lips. And just as the tip of Cam's tongue slipped out, Austin was there to kiss and lick it all up. Their tongues met passionately, tasting the salty arousal, tasting each other.

The kiss eventually slowed, and they floated in a comfortable silence with words left unsaid. They could both feel it, see it, as they looked at each other. The green in Austin's hazel eyes shone brighter than the brown, and the darkness in Cam's silvery eyes had faded.

Austin expected it and wasn’t surprised when Cam averted his eyes, knowing that eye contact wasn’t always easy for Cam. So, Austin brushed a final kiss between Cam's brows and slowly slid out his softening cock.

"Let's clean up, Mr. MBA," Cam said quietly. "Then you're gonna sleep."

12

Austin twisted and turned in his sleep. It was just his naked body under the blanket, but his mind went back to a time where a specific pair of pants had probably gotten him kidnapped. Austin had suffered through so many flashbacks today; maybe that was why they didn’t stop now.

A few days later, the cuffs were back on, the medical kit and the keys had been returned, and both men were out of the woods for this time. They could move around as long as they were careful, and there was no fever.

"You think this could ever be in fashion?" Austin joked dryly as he put on his sweats. Not only were they dirty, but there were several small tears after the torturer's knife. "My father would probably cry if he saw his pants destroyed like this."

That was obviously not true, but it was a running joke in their family; Austin's dad was extremely proud of his company. He ran a successful construction business which he'd built from the ground up, and this was a man who bought fancy cases to keep his business cards protected.

One time, Austin's mother had to put her foot down, because his dad wanted to buy pillowcases with the company logo on them. And for Christmases and birthdays, Griffin Huntley handed out pens, clothes, towels, coffee mugs, trucker caps, and notepads—all with the logo on them—as extra presents. The entire Huntley family was a walking ad for G.H. Construction.

A pang of sadness hit Austin squarely in the chest at the thought of his parents. He missed them terribly and couldn’t imagine how upset his mother was. Maggie was the kind of woman who'd smack you upside the head with one hand and serve you apple pie with the other.

"Why would your pop care?" Cam looked puzzled. "Does he do your shopping or somethin'?"

Austin snorted. "That'd be a sight. But no." He pointed to the logo along his right leg. "My dad's business."

Cam studied Austin for a beat, then nodded pensively. "Yeah, that makes sense. You don’t really strike me as a construction worker."

Austin didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. "What's that supposed to mean?" Okay, so it came out a bit defensive.

"At ease, soldier," Cam drawled with a lazy smirk. "I'm just saying you're not as, uh, mellow? I don’t fucking know. You just come off a little more stiff than some handyman." He nodded as he thought of something. "I could see you in a suit."

Austin decided he was definitely offended. The image of a man in a suit wasn’t usually followed by the words fun, adventurous, or carefree. Or mellow. A suit came with labels of dull, starched, and uptight.

Then again, wasn’t Austin all those things? Maybe not uptight, but he did find his life rather calm and on-schedule. But at the same time, he couldn’t recall missing any action. He led a safe life. Contentment and comfort.

Cam would probably add "boring as fuck."

"I'm an accountant," Austin muttered and sat down on his cot.

"Oh, yeah," Cam chuckled. "Now,thatfits." He grinned and scratched his brow. "I bet you wear suits for that."

Austin gave him a wry look. "Well, it wouldn’t look good if the office managing partner showed up in a Hawaiian shirt."

"Partner, huh?" Cam nodded. "Fancy."

Austin shrugged modestly. Numbers had always come easily for him. He liked the occasional challenge, and since tax laws always changed, he had to stay on top of things. His years in college weren’t exactly enough. There was always something new to study.

His passion for his job had fizzled and died years ago, but he found comfort in structure and order.

"It's really not," Austin replied eventually. "The company's based in LA, so it's just a field office we have in Bakersfield." And there was only one client: Kern County. "Anyway…" He wanted to change the topic now. "What about you? Mechanic?" He jerked his chin at Cam's coveralls.

In retrospect, the men could say this was where their friendship began. After months of being locked up together, they started to get to know each other. To pass time, they shared memories and told one another about family members and hobbies.

Austin particularly enjoyed hearing the stories behind Cam's tattoos, mainly the ones that represented his disorder. There was a snowflake because it was said that people who had autism and Asperger's were like snowflakes—unique, one of a kind. The two words "wired differently" described Cam. It was also a part of a quote about Asperger's. Cam said, "We're not stupid. We're just wired differently." There were a few dark puzzle pieces that represented autism awareness. There were lyrics, sheet music, and instruments…everything came with an anecdote, a memory, or a reason.

Austin shifted between nightmares, more pleasant memories, and consciousness. Too upset to find rest, too exhausted to rouse fully, too overwhelmed to make sense of everything that rolled like a movie behind his closed lids.

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