A red tainted Silence (58 page)

I couldn’t look at him. I was too caught up in the roiling pain in my stomach. Control, control, control. “Please, just leave me alone. I want Mom.” He breathed out in a huff. “Fine. I’ll go get her.” Once he was gone, I gasped for breath, wiping my hand across mouth.

It smeared red.

Only one thought hit me -- I can’t let her see.

I stumbled to the bathroom and closed the door. I turned on the water, spit again and again into the sink, watching the blood whirl down the drain until it finally stopped. I hurriedly brushed my teeth.

Control, control. Relax, Brandon. Relax.

“Brandon? Are you all right?”

I rinsed my mouth out again, took a deep breath, and stood, willing myself to be okay.

“Yeah, Mom, I’ll be right there.” Control, control, control.

With a last look in the mirror -- I looked pale, but that wasn’t surprising anymore -- I opened the door. I smiled, forcing myself to relax. “My most favorite person in the world,” I said.

Okay, so she wasn’t likely fooled, but when my mom hugged me, I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in her hair, I felt better. I really did.

She hugged me, then pushed me back so she could look up at me. “Brandon Ashwood, you need to get back to bed.”

“I know. I was headed that direction. I’m glad you’re here.” I let her lead me back to the bed, then climbed in, laughing as she pulled the covers over me. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Hush, you. It’s been years since I was able to baby you. Let me have my fun.” She sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. I nestled against her, inhaling that Mom-smell. Almost beat the Nicholas-smell.

But not quite.

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“I’m glad you’re here,” I said again.

“I am, too,” she said, stroking my hair back from my face. I closed my eyes. “Think Nicholas will let me help take care of you?”

I chuckled. “I don’t know. I think he’s rather enjoying himself.”

“I’ll say. He made you a huge batch of blackberry Jell-O and gave explicit instructions that no one but you is allowed to touch it.”

“He makes sure I eat right, drink enough, even pee enough, take my meds, get enough sleep -- everything the doc told me to do, he makes sure of it.”

“He told me.”

“Getting you in on the conspiracy, huh?”

“He also told me what she told you not to do.”

I groaned. “He told you that? I can’t believe -- I’m going to kill him!” She laughed. “Yes, he told me. Nick’s never been shy around me.”

“I’m glad. I think. But I sure wish he wasn’t such a stickler about everything. At least not about that.” Gawd, I can’t believe I’d said that to my mom. My face heated.

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Mom!”

“Well, it seems to me it would be far more stressful not to have sex than to have it.”

“I can’t believe --”

“Sex can be very relaxing.”

“Mom, cut it out!”

Nicholas appeared in the doorway. “Why you yelling at your mom, Brandon?” I pulled away from her and laid my head against the pillows as she stood. “I don’t think I want to answer that.”

“Well, I do. I told Brandon I thought he could use some help relaxing. Now, I’m going to go help your lovely new assistant in the kitchen. Dinner’s almost ready; your other friends will arrive soon. But there’s time yet for a ... nap. You look tired, Nicholas. I’ll tell everyone you’re both resting and shouldn’t be disturbed.” Nicholas snickered after she left, closing the door behind her. I opened one eye and glared at him. “It’s not funny.”

“Your mom was talking to you about sex!”

“Yeah? What does it matter? You won’t let me.” I stood, headed for the bathroom, feeling unaccountably grumpy. Nicholas followed after me.

“What are you doing?”

“Pissing. Want to measure it, Nurse?”

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He snickered, jumping up on the counter as I did my duty. I let out a groan, making him burst out in a ringing peal of laughter. “Feel good, baby?”

“You know it.” I turned my head to him and grinned despite myself, flushed the toilet, and closed the lid. Nick’s got this thing about closing the lid, and I’d learned long ago to simply close the damn thing and live with it. Like folding towels. You’ve got to do it Nick’s way, or he pouts. And Nicholas in pouting mode is a pain.

I turned to the sink and pushed him aside, then washed my hands and brushed my teeth again. He watched me avidly, like Barkley does when someone is filling his dog bowl.

“It isn’t that interesting, surely,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Watching me wash my hands. Brush my teeth. Piss.” He giggled. “She really was, wasn’t she? Telling us to have sex?” I dried my hands and then, making Nick’s eyes widen, pushed in between his knees and slid my hands onto his hips. I kissed him, leaning into his warmth. “Yes, she was. And I want you, Nicholas,” I whispered into his ear. He sighed against me.

“The doc said --”

“Screw the doctor. I want you. I need you. If I don’t have you, right now, I’ll burst.” He nuzzled my neck, his hand seeking my dick. “Mm. Are you hard for me, Brandon?”

“What do you think? I’ve been hard the last two weeks.” I pulled away from him, tugged him off the counter. Before he could say a word, I pressed my finger against his lips and shook my head. I turned him around so he was facing the bathroom mirror. “Don’t say a word. Don’t move.” I left the bathroom and fetched the good stuff. Returning to him, I grinned as I saw he had obeyed me, hadn’t moved. I pushed the bathroom door closed, and locked it for good measure.

Then, holding his gaze in the mirror with my own, I dropped my robe to the floor and stripped off my pajamas. Totally naked now, I tossed my hair out of my eyes and moved behind him, wrapping my hands around his waist.

While I’d stripped he hadn’t moved, but the color in his cheeks heightened, and his eyes widened, then narrowed with unabashed lust. His breath quickened; he licked his lips --

those impossibly beautiful, full lips.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I’m going to fuck you,” I whispered back.

“Here?”

“Damn straight.”

He chuckled at that. “Damn gay sounds funny, doesn’t it?”

“Hush, Nicholas.”

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He laid his head back against my shoulder, pressing his cheek to mine. I relished the warmth of him, his body’s heat. Not taking my eyes off him, I slid my hands underneath his sweater. He sucked in his breath as my hands met his flesh. A soft whimper escaped him.

“You’re so easy,” I said.

“I used to say that about you.”

“I still am. Promise. I’ll let you see for yourself later.” He smiled softly. A wave of incredible love for this amazing man warmed me, heating my blood. My arousal pushed against him, insistent. He closed his eyes, parting his lips. So sensual. So beautiful. So blatant. Nicholas experiences sex like he does his music -- with everything that he is. Everything he can. He taught me to do the same, though I swear I never had it down quite as good as he did.

I kissed his neck, my breath rapid, matching his. My hands sought and found his nipples. He reared against me, moaning as only Nicholas can as I caressed them, tickled his chest. I pulled his sweater up, not taking it off. There is something incredibly sexy to me about Nick’s stomach. All those tummy-revealing shirts he used to wear -- he had no idea how that flash of pale flesh undid me.

Every time.

Now, though, the perfection was marred, thanks to his tormentor. But as I always did, I reminded myself that scar meant he’d survived, and he was still very much alive. And whole.

And sane. How he’d managed to do it, to endure what he had, and still be able to give himself so completely to me and be there for me, I couldn’t comprehend. I would’ve given up, but not Nicholas. He’s a fighter.

Scrappy, just like I’d told my dad.

Nick’s without doubt the strongest person I’ve ever known. Far, far stronger than me.

Stronger than I could ever hope to be. The only thing I could give him back was myself, the small pleasures. And really good sex. I owed him good, I figured, for taking care of me the last two weeks. Helping me get stronger. And I did feel stronger. I really did.

I ran my thumbs over his stomach, teasing his belly button, laughing softly as he whimpered and shifted beneath me. I had him trapped between me and the counter. Don’t think he could have gone anywhere even if he’d wanted to -- he had to brace himself with his hands to keep standing.

“You want me?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“Hard and fast?”

“Yes.”

“Or soft and slow?”

“Yes.”

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I chuckled, sliding my thumbs beneath his waistband. He moved his head from side to side, totally caught up in the rapture of my slow invasion, gasping as I found and grazed what I was looking for. I undid the top button to his jeans, rubbed one hand down his tight arousal. “Jeans a little tight?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say anything else but yes?”

“No.”

I smiled and unzipped his jeans, then quickly pulled them down around his hips. He gasped as his dick sprang free, cried out as I grasped it with one hand, making him rear back in shock.

“Oh, my! Brandon!”

“Yes, dear?” I stroked him, running my thumb over the head, spreading the escaping moisture, watching his face in the mirror. “Open your eyes, Nicholas.”

“What?”

“Watch what I do to you,” I whispered to him.

He reached up, wrapped his arms around my head, and watched. It was all he could do to keep standing as I stroked him, played him with one hand, held on to him with the other.

His backside was bare to me now -- I pushed my arousal into him, toying with him. He began to pant, his eyes lidded and heavy as I teased and pulled at him.

“You ... you’re ...”

“What, Nicholas?”

“Take me, please,” he begged, squeezing my neck before dropping his arms, covering my hands with his own. “Please, Brandon. You’re tormenting me.”

“You tormented me all the last two weeks.”

“I know, but you needed the rest.”

“I’m rested now.” I reached for the lube and, not taking my hand from his dick, flipped the top up. “Put your hand out.”

“Oh! Okay.” He did as I told him to. I squeezed some lube out, then pulled away from him.

“Put it on me.”

With a wicked grin, he eyed me in the mirror and reached behind his back, finding me. Now it was my turn to moan.

“Keep your eyes open,” he commanded.

I did so, watching his face as he stroked me. Then my eyes captured his as he guided me. I moved both hands to his hips as he braced himself on the counter and spread his legs a little. Never taking my eyes off him, I slowly, exquisitely slowly, pushed my way into him.

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His eyes widened at my unhurried intrusion. Soft panting escaped him, but he made no other sound.

“Push back,” I told him. He did so until I had firmly impaled him.

We stood like that for a moment, in front of the bathroom mirror -- him still partially clothed, me naked, him pinioned by me.

It was the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

“Wish we had a camera,” Nicholas said, his voice hoarse. “I want to remember this forever.”

In answer to that, I began to stroke inside him. He fell onto his elbows, cradling his face in his hands. I reached around him and grabbed hold of him again, not wanting to slam his dick into the counter. That would hurt.

“Slow,” he said.

“Yes.”

Long, easy strokes gave way to harder, faster ones. Bracing himself, he pushed against me while I pumped into him.

“Now,” he cried out.

“Yes.”

“Please, Brandon.”

“Yes.”

“Can you ... say anything else but yes?” he said, panting.

“No.” I laughed as I felt the final burst of heat build in me. Now.

I felt Nicholas thicken even more under my hand, felt the sudden surge as he finally came. I joined him, crying out, not giving a flying fuck who heard.

It was glorious. It was beautiful, taking him, feeling him, pouring everything I was inside him. My stomach didn’t hurt a damn bit. I felt nothing but elation, pure joy as I held him up while he came down, watched his face in the mirror, watched my own as the passion we shared cooled, soothed.

I slid from him, grabbing a towel and quickly wiping us up. He laughed, pointing at the mirror. “Oopsie.”

“You messy boy,” I admonished, wiping the mirror, but only succeeding in smearing it.

“Sorry.”

“Uh-huh. You get bathroom duty next.”

He sighed as I tossed the towel aside and pulled him back to me. We were both breathing heavily. My skin was flushed, damp with sweat. He felt hot, so hot beneath my hands, his body radiating heat like a little baby’s would. I tugged his sweater down, pulled up his pants, and fastened them, chuckling as he winced.

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“Still tight, Nicholas?”

“Yes.”

“All better, though?”

“Yes. You?” He turned in my arms, pulling me close, running his hands over my backside, up my spine. I shivered beneath his touch, welcoming his lips on mine. Then he covered my face with rapid-fire kisses, giggling as he did so.

“Nicholas, cut it out!”

“You smell like sex.”

“So do you.”

He pulled back. “Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll go see how supper’s coming?”

“That was an awful quick nap. Don’t you think they’ll suspect?” He sucked on the inside of his cheek. “Only your mommy will know for sure.”

“Why’d you listen to her and not me? I’ve been wanting you for days.” He looped his hands over my shoulders, shaking his head. I laid my cheek on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. I sighed happily, feeling incredible, standing here like this, naked and warm and sated for the first time in days. I could make it to my surgery now, I thought.

“I know. But, Brandon, you have no idea how bad you’ve looked. No way would I jeopardize your health just to satisfy our wild animalist urgings. Not until I was sure you’d be okay. You haven’t had any bleeding in days, so this was your reward.” I was glad I wasn’t looking into his eyes at that moment. Instead I nodded, then pulled away. “All right. I’ll take a shower. I’m starving.”