Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (18 page)

There was a chuckle as Matt automatically reached for his robe before remembering that it was in the living room. “I think I may just hold you to that.” There was a gleam in his eye as he left the bed and went hunting for a sweater, only barely remembering to pull up his PJs before he tripped over.

Hooch watched him, relishing the ease of how they interacted. He braced himself and jumped out of bed, braving the cold in his slightly damp shorts and nothing else. “First one in the bathroom gets the hot shower.”

Matt laughed, and abandoned the hunt for the sweater in favor of taking advantage of his position nearer the door to head to the bathroom.

* * *

Hooch left to return to base on Monday morning, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yes, there was still a chasm between them, but at least they had started to fill it in. He didn’t know how long it would take, but he did know that he would shovel for as long as he needed to.

The next weekend passed much the same as the previous one, except now there was no question where he would sleep. He was back in their bed, with Matt wrapped around him—the spooning reversed. Though being so close to Matt, his determination not to permit so much as a hand-job until they were sure he was clean, grew increasingly difficult.

The following weeks passed in much the same vein, save that Hooch’s self control was worn to a thread by the end of the month. He supposed that one benefit of staying on base during the week was that he had a chance of regaining mastery over himself, and not pouncing on Matt like he wanted to.

He waited until the appointed time on the first Friday in February, when he went to the clinic to pick up his test results. Once in his truck, he held his breath as he tore the envelope open. His eyes scanned over the lines, until he got to the test result itself. He read it once, twice, forgetting to breathe. After he’d read it a third time he turned the ignition of his truck, and sped with squealing tires out of the parking lot and towards the gym.

Hooch barely managed to maneuver the truck into the garage without damaging Matt’s car parked in its reserved slot beside his, before all but hurling himself out of the vehicle. He stopped, breathing hard, forcing himself under control, before walking to the back entrance of the gym. Hooch let himself in, knowing that it was the shortest and most unobtrusive way to Matt’s office, the most likely place where he’d be on a Friday evening.

He was so focused on his mission, that he walked straight into Mandy, who’d been carrying a stack of papers, which scattered all over the floor. “Sorry,” Hooch snapped, “Matt in the office?”

“Uh…yeah?” Mandy blinked as Hooch moved past her, even brusquer than normal. But at least he was here, and Matt wasn’t sulking anymore, what was a bit of scattered paper compared to that?

Hooch nodded, then barged into Matt’s office, knocking at the same time as he opened the door and stuck his head inside. “You. Upstairs. Now.”

Matt looked up, stared at Hooch, eyes narrowed. Mentally calculating dates, then standing up and, for once, not objecting to the curtness of the order. Without a word, he locked his office door behind him.

Hooch was already in the apartment, and the moment Matt stepped inside, Hooch simultaneously kicked the door shut and grabbed Matt. He shoved him against the nearest wall, descending onto him like a ravenous beast. Hands clawing at Matt’s t-shirt and shorts, kissing hungry, open-mouthed, and close to biting.

Too shocked to object at first, it took a while for Matt to get enough leverage on Hooch’s chest to shove him to arm’s length, struggling against Hooch’s weight and strength. “I take it you’re clear?” he gasped, pulling away from Hooch’s determined attack on his mouth, neck, collarbones, any area he could reach.

“Yeah.” Hooch nodded, going once more in for the kill. He needed Matt, needed to feel, needed to fuck. He didn’t realize he’d said that out loud.

“Christ, me too,” Matt agreed. He returned the desperation and the hunger in equal shares, practically throwing himself at Hooch until they were on the floor, tearing at their clothes.

It was anything but coordinated, and everything like mindless rutting. Hooch thrust against Matt’s thigh, groin, wherever he could reach, swearing when he couldn’t get his pants open and down quickly enough; cursing even louder when their bodies and cocks aligned, wildly thrusting against each other while biting and sucking at skin.

It seemed like seconds before they were a damp, sticky, half-undressed mess on the living room floor. A miracle that they hadn’t knocked anything over, as they fought to get their breath back. “Ergh,” Matt wrinkled his nose as he sat up. He hesitated, as though he couldn’t decide to make some pretence of pulling up his shorts before getting up or just giving up and stripping properly. “Shower?”

Hooch grinned with the sated expression of a breathless but very content Cheshire cat. A rare expression on him. “Yeah, shower. Then food. Then fucking.”

A snort, but an affectionate one, accompanied by a gleam in Matt’s eye as he decided in favor of stripping. “Dinner’s in the crockpot.” He nodded at the new appliance that his mother had mailed over, complete with a book of recipes. “No cooking required.”

He made sure he stuck his ass in Hooch’s face as he got up and headed to the bathroom.

“Hey!” Hooch grabbed for the tantalizing display, but narrowly missed him. Stripping out of the remainders of his clothes, he was hot on Matt’s heels. “How long before you get it up again, kid?” He smirked, as he stepped into the shower cubicle to join Matt.

Matt took advantage of Hooch’s momentary distraction when the water was turned on to shove him against the tiles, so that Hooch could feel him, half-hard already and definitely interested. “Faster than you, old man,” he teased.

“Good.” Hooch drawled, rubbing against Matt. “That means I can take advantage of you.” He slid down the length of Matt’s wet body, until he was on his knees on the porcelain floor. Hands on Matt’s ass, he pulled him forward under the steady stream of hot water, and swallowed the half-hard cock without further preliminaries.

Matt only barely managed to stay upright, hand on the wall tiles as he watched his cock disappear down Hooch’s throat. So long since they’d done this, and the sight itself was driving him out of his mind, even before the sensations. He groaned as Hooch started to move.

It would take longer, with the first edge taken off, but Hooch didn’t care, because he craved being on his knees, sucking Matt’s cock. He used every trick, everything he’d ever known about his partner’s body, not to make him come as quickly as he could, but to draw it out even longer.

Even knowing it was coming, Matt only managed to give a warning before he came, feeling his cum run down Hooch’s throat. Hooch sucked him dry, making sure he got every drop, letting his tongue run over Matt’s slowly softening cock in long luxurious strokes, until he ended in delicate laps, barely feathering across the wet skin.

Hooch pulled himself up eventually, cherishing the twinge in his knees from the hard surface. He grinned at Matt with an even more satisfied, and decidedly wet cat appearance. “Your ass is mine now.” He gestured with his thumb vaguely in the direction of the bedroom.

“Always was,” Matt returned the grin tiredly, turning off the water and all but stumbling out of the shower, slightly wobbly at the knees. He made a half hearted effort at toweling himself dry before heading to the bedroom, barely moving the covers aside before flopping down on his front. “You’ll have to do all the work, though,” he threw over his shoulder, “you’ve wiped me out.” But he gave the little wriggle that always made Hooch pounce.

“Gladly.” Hooch grinned and fulfilled Matt’s expectations by attacking him with lips and fingers. Pushing his legs between Matt’s thighs to open them up, he only stopped to find the lube in the bedside drawer.

The fuck was much slower than Matt had expected, despite the months of missing. Hooch was mindful of Matt having just come twice, and his entry and strokes were long and drawn-out instead of the rough and hard he thought he’d receive. When Hooch came, a string of soft curses mixed with Matt’s name and breathless groans filled the room, before Hooch collapsed on top of him, with his arms wrapped tightly around Matt, nuzzling the back of his neck.

Matt lay still, relishing the familiar weight on him, and groaned a little in protest as Hooch recovered and withdrew. Hooch lifted himself off Matt, but quickly collapsed back on the bed again. “I’d get you a wet cloth if I could move.” Hooch murmured, too sated to talk any louder. Reaching out, he let his hand caress up and down Matt’s spine.

Matt made an inarticulate sound at the caress, something between a rumble and a purr. “Missed this,” he murmured into the pillow, before the change in his breathing told Hooch that he’d conked out completely.

Hooch chuckled at Matt’s coma, he was used to him passing out after really good sex. He dragged himself out of bed and to the bathroom, brought the promised wet cloth with him and cleaned up the sleeping man as best he could, before falling onto bed for a post-coital nap. Keeping contact with Matt’s skin and Matt’s body. This had been a close call, he was determined it would never happen again. If he lost this, he knew now, he’d lose everything that had ever meant anything.

Hooch fell asleep, thinking what a lucky bastard he was.

* * *

When Matt woke up from his cat-nap, Hooch was still asleep. Matt frowned as he was able to get up out of the bed, rearrange the covers over Hooch, pull on his clothes and leave the bedroom for the kitchen to start dishing up dinner, without Hooch waking up. Testament to how much strain Hooch had been under that he didn’t move a muscle at the disturbance.

Matt got out the plates and flatware and set the table, waiting for a sound from the bedroom.

Eventually, the bedroom door opened and a bleary-eyed Hooch emerged with his short hair standing up in all directions. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt of Matt’s, which was too wide in the shoulders for him, his body leaner. “How damned long did I sleep?” he groused, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. “Hasn’t happened to me in forever.”

Matt glanced at the clock. “Less than an hour.” He dished out the food, pleased that it hadn’t all lost shape. “Needed it, though.”

Hooch flashed a quick grin. “You saying I’m getting old?”

Matt gave him a look. “You?” he snorted, “you’ll be still running rings around those youngsters in ten years.” He found Hooch’s Tabasco sauce, put it on the table, and sat down.

“Good to know.” Hooch turned towards the bathroom with a, “be right back.” He emerged a few moments later, his face still damp, while his hands smelled of soap.

“No ketchup?” He sounded disappointed when he sat down.

Matt smiled and shook his head at Hooch’s desensitized taste buds, legacy of years of eating pretty much anything, and got the rest of the condiments out of the pantry, regardless of whether they went with the food.

He waited until Hooch had poured a liberal amount of ketchup over the chicken breast, before saying: “I’ve looked up a few clubs.”

Hooch’s fork was halfway in his mouth when he froze at Matt’s statement. “What?” The fork went back down onto the plate.

“I’ve looked up a few clubs for you,” Matt repeated. “You wouldn’t believe how many there actually are, just in Raleigh. More in Charlotte. And, if we really want to get out of state, sky’s the limit.” He could have been discussing the football scores.

“Clubs. Clubs for me.” Hooch repeated, more dumbfounded than he had any right to be. “You looked up clubs for me.” He drew in a breath and held it for as long as he could, to keep himself from making any further comments that would potentially upset Matt. “Okay.” He finally let out that breath.

Matt made a noise of confirmation as he speared a cube of sweet potato. “You said it yourself: it’s something that you need sometimes, and, as we’ve agreed, we need some other outlet, if we’re going to go back to living together. I’m not sure I can go as far as you need,” Matt was honest, “at least not now. Maybe never. So we need to find something else.”

The repeated ‘we’ had no emphasis, as though Matt was stating a perfectly obvious fact: they were in this together.

Hooch, though, had picked up on this immediately. “We?” He still hadn’t continued eating, a frown steepling between his eyes. “And no, you can’t. We’ve established that.” He was on the defensive, walls building back up in nanoseconds

Matt’s look was firm. “We,” he used the emphasis, “because I am going with you to look them over and decide. We are going to pick one, and when you get…antsy, you are going to go there.”

“I am, ain’t I?” Hooch’s eyes narrowed, shields in place.

“Yes.” Matt pressed his point. “And when you are done, you can come back to me.” He held the gaze, purposefully silent for a few moments. “You need it, I may or may not ever be able to give it to you, that’s why we find something that means I do not ever have to pick up your carcass from an abandoned warehouse at the crack of dawn.”

Hooch had locked himself into a battle of stare-down, but at the last words, he broke the gaze and lowered his eyes. “Okay.”

Matt nodded, tension leaving him, as he went back to his food. “There are two public clubs with a private members area, and one solely members-only club in Raleigh. If we decide on Raleigh, the members-only one has the least risk of running into someone you know. If we go further, we can probably be less paranoid in Charlotte and there are more to choose from.”