The Telling (22 page)

If he had any say in the matter Michael always would be.

Several of the photographs contained the same two men as the first, and Jay wondered who they were. Due to the sheer number that featured all three men, it
was clear that they were good friends. The strange thing about the two, though, was that there were no pictures of either of them without the other. Oh
yeah, Michael had mentioned them. Sorrow gripped Jay like a fist when he matched descriptions with the men pictured.

“Small blond with laughing eyes,” Michael had said. So this was Ryan. “Copper-top with a zillion freckles.” Jay
realized that he was looking at the ill-fated Jimmy. It broke his heart to see the two men that fate had torn apart, laughing and happy and unaware of what
was coming. These were the friends Michael had cared so much about, and for whom he now carried a tremendous burden of guilt.

Jay continued searching until he found what he was looking for. In pictures, Jeeps, Humvees, and other vehicles kicked up huge clouds of dust as they rode
single file over a harsh landscape—a landscape eerily reminiscent of his own home. Now he knew what had set his lover off. There would be no
taking Michael to Brownsville anytime soon. Jay closed the images, all but for the first one, silently mourning for those two young lovers who were forever
denied the chance for the happiness he hoped to have with Michael. He mourned also for the young man Michael had been, so free and unburdened by guilt,
fear, and remorse. It was past midnight when he shut down the computer, hoping Michael wouldn’t find out he’d used it and think
he’d been snooping. Sitting there in the quiet apartment, hot tears rolled down his face as he cried for the three young soldiers.

***

Jay awoke with a start to find himself still sitting in the computer chair, pale moonlight having given way to the rising sun. He quietly crept into the
bedroom to check on the still sleeping Michael, marveling at the pure masculine beauty lying across the tangled sheets.

Deserting Michael after graduation couldn’t happen. Jay would call his parents, and then Uncle Mario, thanking the man for the job offer and
asking for references for his continued search. After classes ended today, he’d pay a visit to his faculty advisor to request assistance with job
placement, maybe in Atlanta, where he’d at least be close by. Until then he’d enjoy the quiet time here in the early morning hours with
his lover.

He stripped his clothes off, tossing them to the floor. Careful not to disturb Michael, he curled into the man’s warm body and gently brushed his
lips against his lover’s.

Michael mumbled sleepily.

“Hey,” Jay whispered, leaning in for another kiss. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I forget what a light sleeper you
are sometimes.” Usually though, after an anxiety attack, Michael slept like the dead.

Michael pursed his lips but kept them firmly pressed together, causing Jay to laugh. “No tongue till I brush.”

Normally, during sex, Jay was the aggressor, but warm arms reached out and pulled him closer, Michael burrowing into his neck. His cock rose in response to
the sudden display of affection. Michael squirmed until he was on top and then looked down with a grin, the evidence of his own arousal pressing back
against Jay’s.

This unexpected glimpse of his lover’s playful side was an extreme turn on, especially in light of what had happened a few hours ago. Jay
wondered what had inspired such uncharacteristic behavior before deciding it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he had a warm and
willing man in bed who didn’t seem too badly affected by the previous night, and an hour before they needed to get up and moving. He
didn’t plan on wasting a single moment.

Pressing their lips together, he momentarily forgot about his lover’s aversion to morning kisses, but was disappointed when Michael’s
mouth slipped away to his neck instead—but not for long. A gentle kiss turned aggressive and Jay was delightfully surprised to feel teeth scrape
his neck, extremely arousing, but something none of his previous lovers had understood his need for. Michael not only understood, but enjoyed the giving as
much as Jay enjoyed the receiving.

Jay’s cock was fully hard now and meeting Michael’s stroke for stroke as their humping grew frantic. Mouth, tongue and teeth sucked,
nibbled, and scraped a trail from his neck to his pecs before latching onto a nipple. Arching into the contact, he hissed between clenched teeth.

One hardening nub was traded for the other, but the delicious friction suddenly left his lower body, replaced by a firm, slick grip. Where had Michael
gotten the lube? Then it didn’t matter anymore as Michael worked Jay’s cock in a tight fist. If he didn’t know that Michael
was fairly new to gay sex, he’d be jealous of just where the man had gained experience, for there was nothing shy and unsure about how Michael
stroked Jay with the precise pressure that he loved, alternating the tempo of the strokes and keeping him off balance. When he felt his balls drawing up
and a familiar tingling beginning in his belly, Michael slowed down, or stopped entirely. At Jay’s moan of protest, Michael grinned, fully aware
of the effect of the teasing.

Reaching the point of pleading for release, Jay found himself flipped face down upon the bed, his hips lifted unceremoniously and plopped onto a pillow.
The air against his exposed back was cool, but only for a moment. His lover covered his body, resuming the earlier attention to Jay’s sensitive
neck. When that mouth opened and teeth lightly sank into his shoulder, Jay couldn’t help but shiver with anticipation.

In their brief time together Michael hadn’t indicated wanting to top, and Jay hadn’t pushed the issue, even though he secretly longed
for it, knowing he’d be Michael’s first. “I want to see you, Michael,” he said, rolling to face his lover.
“I take you from behind most of the time because it’s easier for you, but you don’t have to be easy with me, I can take
it.”

Michael paused a moment before lifting Jay’s legs and placing them over his shoulders.

Jay nearly came from the possessive growl in his lover’s voice. “Yes!” he cried, loving this self-assured side that Michael
only displayed in bed. Again it crossed his mind to wonder where the new-found lovemaking skills had come from, but the truth was revealed as the man
awkwardly prepared him. Wherever he’d gotten the knowledge, it wasn’t firsthand. In his haste, Michael forgot to put on a condom first,
and now fumbled the packet, both hands slicked with lube. Jay took pity and took the package, deftly ripping the foil open. He removed the latex within and
worked it down Michael’s engorged cock with practiced ease.

With Michael poised at his entrance, time suddenly stood still. They held each other’s gaze as Michael slowly, slowly lowered himself down,
nearly folded Jay in half. Jay reached the point of asking his lover to ease up when Michael suddenly lost all revulsion to morning kisses and firmly
brought his open mouth down to Jay’s, demanding entrance at the same moment that his cock breached Jay’s defenses. Jay let out a low
moan, overwhelmed by both the unexpected kiss and the exquisite feeling of being entered.

Michael pulled back, panting. “Damn! Why didn’t you tell me this felt so good?”

With a wicked grin Jay replied, “I did.”

Concern appeared on Michael’s face, his brow creasing. “You won’t let me hurt you, will you?”

“
Querido
, I know you’d never hurt me. In fact, if you don’t speed things up, I just might scream.”

Michael grinned devilishly and proceeded to do exactly that, driving in forcefully, losing them both in the rhythm.

Jay reached down and began stroking his own cock when Michael’s mouth descended again, folding him over and repeatedly pounding ‘that
spot.’ Pushing in hard, Michael stilled, moaning into Jay’s mouth as he came.

Jay worked himself, finding release a moment later. They lay entwined, panting, caught in the afterglow.

“Damn, Jay. I didn’t know it could be like that. Is that what it’s like when you do me?”

Jay smiled a lazy smile, well and truly sated. “It’s amazing being in you, but I loved the feeling of you in me, too.”

Michael kissed him again, pulling him into a tight embrace. The brightness of the room occurred to Jay, and he glanced over at the bedside clock.
“Oh, shit, I’m gonna be late!”

He’d love nothing better than to spend the day here, but he had to study and complete his final project. Jay left the warm, safe haven of his
lover’s bed to start the day. After a quick shower he threw on a combination of his and Michael’s clothes, and then sat back down on
the edge of the bed. “Michael, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

A sleepy Michael replied, “You can ask me anything.”

“I don’t know how to say this but, you’re usually so unsure in bed and a little… “

“Awkward?”

Jay chuckled. “I was going to say, ‘not so aggressive.’ What came over you this morning? Not that I’m complaining
or anything.”

“You make things better,” Michael replied simply, as if that explained everything.

Perhaps it did. And if it helped to chase away the phantoms, Jay was all for it.

Chapter Eighteen

“Michael, I think you’re aware that you’re making excellent progress, but there’s a topic you keep skirting that
really needs to be brought out into the open: Jimmy.”

Michael swallowed hard. Yes, he knew what needed to be said, but whenever he thought of the outgoing young man who’d died too young he broke into
a cold sweat. “I’m not ready to talk about him yet.”

“No?” An arched brow was the first indication that his counselor wasn’t going to accept the answer this time. “And
when will you be ready to talk about it? A week? A month? How long are you going to poke at the open wound of your guilt, Michael, before you treat it and
allow it to heal?”

The words that he’d repeated so often over the past few months were now an automatic response to any question that raised his anxiety level.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Raff’s calm demeanor made a counterpoint to Michael’s agitation. “Have you grieved?”

Caught off guard by the absurd question—not at all what he suspected—Michael nearly shouted, “What?”

His counselor’s voice held its normal mild inquisitiveness, as though merely asking about the weather and not discussing Michael’s
worst nightmare. “Have you grieved for your friend?” When he didn’t receive a response, Raff continued, “Regardless
of how he died, or who might have been responsible for that death, the fact remains that you lost a very close friend. So, I ask you again if
you’ve grieved.”

Silence stretched out between them, the ticking of the clock and the rumbling strains of a Bruce Springsteen CD, Michael’s latest offering,
breaking the silence in the room.
Have you grieved?
Had he? Michael had been so busy wishing he could take it back, or reverse time to when Jimmy
was alive, that he’d never actually let go and said goodbye. Hell, he still didn’t want to believe that the man was dead. He answered
in a small voice, “No.”

“I thought as much. Have you remembered any more about what happened that day?”

Michael shrugged. “I try not to think about it.”

“Well, that’s understandable, but unfortunately, it doesn’t help the problem.”

Leaning forward from his normal ‘I’m not a threat’ pose as he faced his client, Rafe peered into Michael’s eyes.
“As painful as it is, you can’t move forward if you insist on spending all your time looking back.”

Michael turned away, feeling too vulnerable to meet his counselor’s piercing gaze. “How do I stop?”

“It’s easy.”

At that Michael spun around, waiting for whatever suggestion would magically help end the pain.

“You have to want to, first.”

Anger rolled through him. What kind of bullshit answer was that? Michael growled, “Don’t you think I want that more than
anything?”

Refusing to back down in the face of Michael’s rising hostility, Raff’s tone remained frustratingly unperturbed. “I
don’t think you do,” he challenged.

“What?” Michael jumped to his feet, releasing his tentative hold on his emotions to glare at the infuriating man who sat calmly and
smugly, as though he had the answers to life’s mysteries and planned to keep them for himself.

“You think I like walking around like a basket case, afraid of my own shadow? Worried that one day my lover will come to his senses and realize
I’m a complete waste of time?” Michael paced a circuit of the room, hemmed in and claustrophobic in the cozy office that normally made
him feel safe and secure. “Being careful of every word I say so my family will stop driving me crazy with their worrying?” He stopped
in front of Raff, one hand on each of the chair’s arms as he confronted the man who so unjustly accused him of not wanting to get better.

So enraged that his entire body shook, Michael leaned down, nose to nose with Raff, who never flinched. Through clenched teeth he hissed, “To
know that I should have died on some God-forsaken road in a place I didn’t know existed four years ago? And that Jimmy should be back home in
Arkansas with his family where he belongs?”

For long moments Raff sat quietly, his face revealing nothing, until Michael felt the anger slowly begin to drain. It wasn’t possible to pick a
fight with someone who wouldn’t fight back. Finally, he withdrew and sank back into the couch he’d previously vacated.

“Do you truly believe that?” Raff finally asked.

“What else can I believe? He was in my place in the Hummer. If I’d been there, he’d still be alive.”

“You can’t know that, Michael. How many men from your own transport died?”

Thinking back to that day Michael felt embarrassment that, as much as he dwelled on Jimmy’s death, he’d hardly given a thought to the
other casualties. “Two,” he answered quietly.

“So, being in the transport was no guarantee of survival.”

“I survived, Ryan survived!” he argued.

“Yes, were any of the men who died sitting near you or Ryan?”

A smiling face appeared in his mind’s eye, replaced by an image of the same young man, still and lifeless upon the ground. “Harris was
sitting next to Ryan, opposite me.”