Page 69 of Torch Songs

“I’m better at it now,” April retorted. “You need a better blanket.”

“Well now I’m torn,” Guthrie said, catching Tad’s eyes. “’Cause that’s more than good enough for me, but nothing’s good enough for your brother.”

She bent to kiss his cheek. “And that’s why you get a blanket,” she said with satisfaction. “I’m going to make you another sandwich.” With that she took the little plate but left him the napkin.

“I absolutely can’t eat another sandwich,” he said quietly to Tad, who laughed.

“April, how about you put a hold on that. Let him finish, okay?”

“He’s skinny,” she said, her lower jaw shoving out mulishly. “And he wasasleep in the caroutside the apartment. I don’t trust him to take care of himself. He needs to eat.”

Guthrie opened his mouth to tell her he was a grown man, but Tad beat him to it. Sort of.

“I’m sure he does, but we’ll have to get him on a feeding schedule and feed him a little bit more every day, okay?”

“I don’t believe this,” Guthrie muttered, and Tad sent him a mulish look of his own that told Guthrie he wasn’t over the sleeping-in-the-cab-of-the-truck thing. Guthrie yawned then and wiped his face and his fingers with the napkin.

“Go crawl into bed,” Tad murmured. “I’ll be there in a sec. Don’t argue, okay?”

Guthrie might have if he hadn’t been so tired. As it was, after brushing his teeth, stripping to his briefs, and climbing into bed, he was barely conscious when Tad came in, turned off the light, and slid in next to him. With a murmur he backed into Tad’s broad chest and welcomed the arm around his waist by covering Tad’s fingers with his own and lacing them together.

“I like you here,” Tad murmured.

“Wait until I do something cool,” Guthrie said back.

“You’re here. That’s cool.”

Guthrie was asleep before he could even laugh at that.

SOMETIME INthe night, they reversed positions, with Guthrie careful not to bump up against Tad’s backside but Tad practically snuggling him off the bed in an effort to get closer. Toward the morning, Guthrie got up to use the bathroom, and when he came back, Tad had changed position, so it was Guthrie’s turn to be little spoon again, and he liked that. Liked Tad’s possessive arm around his middle, liked the way Tad splayed his hand on the soft skin of Guthrie’s bare stomach, liked the way he—hello!

“That’s not my stomach,” Guthrie mumbled as Tad’s fingers dipped below his waistband.

“Nope,” Tad murmured. “Want me to stop?”

Oh! His fingers brushed against Guthrie’s cock, still full from his morning wood, and it was like a magic touch. His entirebodymelted against the bed, against Tad, and without volition he lowered his hand and trapped Tad’s fingers exactly where they were.

“No,” he hissed, beyond pride in that one touch. Tad’s smell had haunted him as they’d slept. It had permeated his senses, sunk into his skin.Tadwas there, warm and strong andtouchinghim, and now the touch wason purpose, and Guthrie couldn’t resist, not in the name of pride, not in the name of reason, not even in the name of privacy.

He glanced toward the bedroom door and saw that, unlike during the night when it had been partially open, it was closed all the way, something Tad must have done when he’d gotten up to pee.

“This was premeditated,” he mumbled, arching into Tad’s grip, and Tad chuckled grimly.

“You’re skittish,” he said, stroking with a firm touch. “Need to keep you from running. Sorry.”

“That didn’t—” Guthrie gasped as Tad skated his thumb across the head. “—sound—oh God, Tad, I’m not going to last—sincere!” he managed, and Tad grunted and let go of his cock to pull down his shorts.

Guthrie was suddenly bare in the warmth of the summer morning, and Tad was scooching around the bed to take his cock into his mouth.

“Oh God,” Guthrie moaned softly when Tad’s lips closed over him, and that quick, all that was left was the heat and the home inside. Then Tad added the pressure of his fist and swirls with his tongue, and Guthrie threw one arm over his face and then used the other to massage the back of Tad’s head through his now-shaggy hair.

Tad chuckled and kept up with the blowjob, and Guthrie arched into his mouth, the hand in Tad’s hair shaking, his body overwhelmed by simple touch. All those hours on the road and his skin felt shaken to a windsock, and suddenly he was beingtouched, andsexually, and it all came crashing into him, how sensitive his skin was, how much he craved the attention, and Tad was giving it, and he wasflying,and—

The hand covering his face moved to his mouth as he came, biting his palm, shaking so hard he wasn’t sure what to do withhis limbs next. His other hand came up from the back of Tad’s head so he could cover his whole face and let loose with the damned tears that seemed to curse his time in bed, particularly with this amazing man who bossed him around for his own good and made sure he ate and worried about him when he didn’t know where Guthrie was.

Tad backed away, and Guthrie caught a peek between his fingers of the exasperating man grinning in satisfaction.

“Hey,” Tad murmured, his tenderness Guthrie’s undoing. “C’mon, look at me.” He nudged Guthrie’s hand down, and Guthrie saw his mouth, swollen and rimed with glossy come, and he groaned.

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