Page 7 of Party of Three

Buckley closed his eyes and swallowed, imagining it was another man’s cock Mateo was guiding into his mouth. Not simply another man. Jeff Braxton, the mysterious mastersergeant with the crystal-blue eyes. Mateo’s lips met his ear. “Fucking your mouth, my sweet, beautiful slutty boy,” he whispered.

Buckley couldn’t remember the last time he’d come this hard—or this loud. His bellow threatened to turn into a scream. Mateo kept stroking him and fucking him in tandem, and Buckley thought the kitchen table might split from the sheer force of the pleasure roaring through his body.

He’d come out when he was fourteen and had more sexual experience with guys by the time he graduated high school than Mateo did by the time he met Buckley at age twenty-five. But whatever this was, whatever they’d just done, wasnew. It was like they’d made love across time and space and with a man he’d never met but always fantasized about. A man who held a piece of Mateo’s soul in his hands. A man who was also the reason Mateo was alive today.

A door inside of Buckley had been unlocked, allowing him to feel more filled, and more emptied of all tension and strain than he’d ever felt in his life.

Opening his mouth against the back of Buckley’s neck, Mateo roared loud enough to scare the neighbors, a sound so deep and powerful it suggested he’d gone to the same place Buckley had.

3

Another shower was in order. They held each other under the spray, kissing, soaping, kneading but barely speaking, as if they were amazed to have their bodies back after traveling through time astride a fantasy.

Not a fantasy, Buckley corrected himself, a memory.A memory my boyfriend used to fill me and own me.

A few times, he looked up, but it was hard to read Mateo’s expression in the dim glow. Buckley had changed the light bulb overhead to a soft and warm one, one of many he’d installed in strategic places throughout the apartment. Dimmers were a no-go. Buckley had removed them himself. Their slow fade from light to dark was too triggering, reminding Mateo of the awful moment the Osprey had pitched forward toward the dark ocean depths after missing its landing on the aircraft carrier’s deck.

An hour later, they were snuggling on the living room sofa. Haunting violin music filled their living room, but Buckley was only pretending to watch the true crime documentary they’d scrolled their way to on Netflix.

His mind was shuttling between memories of what they’d done in the kitchen and memories of what he’d done earlier that week—his last-ditch effort to get Jeff Braxton at Mateo’s birthday party. Earlier, he hadn’t said a word about it because if his plan worked, he wanted it to stay a surprise. Then his boyfriend had rolled out some surprises of his own. Now he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Should we talk about it?” Mateo finally asked.

“Sure.” Even though his heart was in his throat, he sat up slowly so he could look into Mateo’s eyes.

“That was amazing, but I just want to make sure you’re cool. I mean, it was a while ago.”

“So it was all true?” he asked. “You guys really blew out some hot go-go boy’s back?”

“You thought I made it up?”

“Parts of it, maybe. I don’t know. For fun. A fantasy. Like we usually do.”

Mateo caressed the side of Buckley’s face. “The truth seemed to be setting you on fire, so I decided to give you more of it. That’s okay, right? I mean, you said you weren’t jealous, but I just want to be sure now that we…you know…”

Buckley was a fast talker. On his ambulance crews, he was usually the one tasked with calming a panicked patient with streams of focusing, comforting words. But in this moment, words failed him.

I don’t get jealous when it comes to you, was what Buckley wanted to say. He somehow felt tangled up and included in Mateo’s passion for other men, especially a man he worshiped. Like Mateo’s lust for anyone flowed through Buckley first and with power, and this made him feel like the bond between him and Mateo was deeper than any he’d shared with another man.

“I loved it. It was like we traveled back through time together, and I got to see a different side of you.”

“Alright, well,” Mateo said finally, “since it looks like you’re never going to meet Jeff anyway, I figure we don’t have to worry about it being weird. But I wanted to be sure.” Their lips met in a gentle kiss. “You sure you’re cool?” he asked in a whisper.

“Coolandhot,” Buckley whispered back. “At the same time.”

“Good. But eventually,” Mateo whispered, “I’m going to open up that dirty mind of yours some more. It’s only fair since you’ve been all over mine.”

He snuggled into his boyfriend’s lap again.

Mateo was right.

No point getting bent out of shape over anything relating to Jeff Braxton given how hard the guy had proven to get in touch with. Maybe their kitchen session had been a fluke, and maybe the real thrill had been the sense that he was being claimed by a younger, more innocent, but no less hungry version of the man he loved.

But what if Jeff actually showed up at the party?

Should he tell Mateo about it now, just in case?

The unanswered question rattled around in his head until he fell asleep in Mateo’s arms.

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