Page 80 of Shifting Years
"And we are."
"But some don't have a Whispering Hills." San Francisco was turning into an option, but that was a single city.
"Yeah," said Todd. "I get it and it'd be nice if they had a home like we do."
"That's the point of marching, to change perceptions." I kept my tone kind, so we wouldn't have another argument.
"They'll never love us, Mike."
"Then at least have some…"
"Some sympathy? Sure, I wish for it too, but this wasn't the point I was trying to make." He shook the record-sized present. "Ah, hell. Should have just let you open it, and everything would have been fine. I was trying to set up something. You know… be dramatic like you." He smiled at the last part.
I peeled away the snowman wrapping, revealing a color newspaper clipping sealed in clear plastic and Anita Bryant splattered in the face with a cream pie. White goo dripped down to a green dress. Her dark hair was largely untouched, leaving a gloopy mess in the middle.
"Oh, wow." There was no laugh, just a slow grin. I had it good but a lot of us hid. Although not everyone. The Stonewall riots seemed to be turning into something bigger, and our people fought back. It was a cream pie out of aThree Stoogesshort, but a gay man said 'No! I won't let you bully me.'
He studied my face. Todd was the warmonger, and I was the peaceful man trying for a better world. Except, that wasn't always true. All the hate and anger toward Henry came fromme. Todd was my light, but there was a pain in loving another man. He gave this gift, showing he listened to my conversations.
Todd leaned in, sensing my thoughts. "Enough of the outside world? Okay? Use the photo for inspiration later. One day, I'll march with you and tell everyone I see how much I love you. I swear. I promised I'd come back, and I never broke a promise."
His dark forest-green eyes looked down. "I haven't gotten my power, but you know what people need, so…"
The answer was obvious because he was a man too. We could try again, and maybe Christmas magic would letmeget over making love to a stranger.
He lifted, cradling me in his powerful biceps. I wasn't into that, or so I thought since my slick ass said otherwise. Hethrewme down on the bed, and my hands went to the side as if to say that's what he needed. My power was hard to define sometimes. I can hand someone a pencil before they write a note, but what did he need to grab?
Me, but can I give him something he can't touch… like a memory?
"In a dark, gay bar, a crowd practically forced us to kiss…" His gaze darted to the right, remembering, I hope. "It was like this."
That time was dank and smelled of beer, crowds, and one special young man from almost ten years ago. My tongue explored his mouth before I pulled back. I licked my lips and whispered, "You stood still and let me have my way with you."
His eyes shone. "I remember, but I didn't before. Well, just shadows really. Oh…"
"Let's build those memories again."
***
July 1978
Summer heat drenched us in sweat while we lay in the forest. "You practically attacked me when I found you again."Night Feverfrom The Bee Gees blared from my headphones, given last Christmas. "Then Todd, you gave me a…" My voice trailed off as I tapped my neck.
His mouth sucked my warm skin, like he did at the end of the sixties. "Mine," he growled.
"Yours."
My man held my wrists to the ground. "Marked you… like I did before," he whispered.
Shifter healing wouldn't hide hickies right away, and my customers would see it at our new restaurant.Let them. I'm his Omega and he's my Alpha.
Hints of the old him would resurface occasionally, with a familiar smile or an angry puffed-out face, like when I accidentally wrecked his car, years ago. Then the man with a memory full of holes would stare again, remembering mental horrors.
I laid back, arching my neck, and presenting my tinier but still hard body to him. Soft kisses went along my side before he flipped me over. With care, he brushed leaves off my bare, wet ass.
He breathed in long over my entry, taking in my honey-scented slick. A nose brushed over each cheek and strong fingers dug into my end. With no hesitation, he thrust his tongue deep inside, licking my already slippery hole with hungry laps. If he kept it up, I'd have no lubricant for his magnificent cock, but spit could do. For minutes, he worked, getting me ready while he prepared to fuck me on the ground under Southern summer trees.
***
