Page 175 of Beneath the Stain
“Okay,” Mackey said, standing up and turning around to offer Trav a hand up. “Show’s over, everybody. Vamoose!”
The neighbors took the hint—and just the fact that they scattered on command proved to Mackey that this was a much better neighborhood than the one they’d grown up in, not that he needed any convincing.
“You okay, Blake?” Mackey asked, truly concerned.
Blake grunted. “You twisted my knee, asshole!”
Kell helped him up, and he tested his weight on it. “It’ll be okay,” Kell judged. “Here. Let’s go get showers and let Mackey calm Trav down. I don’t know about you all, but I could use some boob-tube and dinner.” And it was just so normal. Like practicing. Like being together.
“Yeah, that sounds awesome. Go on inside.” Mackey checked on Trav, who was looking around sheepishly like he was trying to judge how many people had seen that. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sure thing, Mackey.”
They disappeared, leaving Mackey and Trav out on the lawn in the darkness.
Mackey put his hands on either side of Trav’s face, liking the warmth and the stubble,needingthe contact. “You can’t do that,” he said nakedly. “You’re our rock. You don’t get to murder the bad guys in front of witnesses.”
“But without witnesses is okay?” Trav asked, and he was his magnificent sarcastic self again. When Trav palmed the back of Mackey’s head and pulled him in against his warmth and his protection and his—oh myGod—smell of sweat and expensive aftershave, Mackey went. Trav’s arms around his back, his heat in the autumn cold—these were animal things, like water and food, and Mackey needed them.
“Trav?” Mackey’s voice was muffled against his chest.
“Yeah?”
“I really love you. I’m sorry I got high.”
“I’m sorry your old boyfriend is dying. I’m sorry you and the guys hurt and I can’t do a fucking thing about it.”
“You’re gonna need to beat up that bag a lot in the next two weeks.”
Some of the pent-up tension loosened from Trav’s body. Thank God. It was about to strangle him.
“That was brilliant, by the way. First time I’ve seen you actually use money.”
“Well, it’s either that or stuff it in a big house and a bunch of show ponies you don’t know how to ride.”
Trav grunted. “Mackey, do you have a plan for when we leave here?”
Mackey looked up at him and saw that his face was bleak against the moonlight. This time, Trav needed some hope.
“We’re gonna go home. All of us. We’re gonna go to fucking Disneyland, ’cause Grant never got to go. We’re gonna buy a dog—you know that? I want animals in our place, I don’t care if we have to pay Astrid extra. And Christmas is coming up. I don’t know what the rest of the guys are doing, but I made a promise last year, and I’m keeping it.”
Trav’s mouth relaxed some. The aloneness eased from around his eyes. “God, I really want you to meet my parents. I think you’d love them.”
“I love you,” Mackey said again, and Trav bent down and took his mouth, softly.
“I love you too,” he whispered when the kiss was over. “And for the first time, I think my folks’ll see I mean it.”
Mackey pulled away only to rest his head on Trav’s shoulder again. They would go inside eventually and realize they were starving. Mackey would shower again, and they’d watchThe Dark Knightand hoot and holler at the screen. Briony would fold herself just to rest on Mackey’s chest while Mackey rested on Trav’s, and Mackey would wonder why he’d never realized that women could be stunning creatures, even if you didn’t want to bang them. (For one thing, all of that long, soft, curling hair—he just liked to sink his hands in and stroke it.)
She’d sleep in her own room, though, and Mackey and Trav would touch each other softly in the dark, smoothing their hands down bare skin, erections secondary to the contact, to the touching.
Their orgasms would be quiet things, organic, easy cresting in each other’s mouths. They were mindful of the others in the house, but more than that. They were tender with each other, easy. Mackey kept hearing Grant’s pathetic words about being touched, and he was grateful that Trav had let that happen.
He would never take touching his lover for granted again.
When they were done and he lay with his head on Trav’s chest, stroking the fur that traveled to his hard stomach, he wanted to say something important.
“Trav?”
