Unquiet (26 page)

“Well, we’ll deal with it later,” Loren sighed, pushing to his feet and moving to where his messenger bag was propped against the wall. “I was going to give this to you tonight, but I think we both need to get our minds off this clusterfuck for a few minutes.”

He beckoned Eliot over to the leather couch, waiting until he was settled next to him before pulling out a small box and handing it to him. Eliot took it slowly, opening the hinged lid to reveal an expensive dive watch nestled within.

“Loren?” he breathed. “I love it, but what—”

“I’ve programmed the alarms already with your dosage schedule,” Loren said. “It’ll remind you when to take your pills, even when I’m not here or you’re out and about somewhere.” He’d seen Eliot slip off into the kitchen earlier and take his meds right on time, but once they both got busy and life got in the way, it would be easier to forget. Dr. Babcock had stressed over and over how important it was that Eliot keep the therapeutic levels in his blood steady. “And it’s waterproof, of course, so you never have to take it off.”

“Wow,” Eliot whispered as he lifted the watch out of the box and turned it over in his hands. “I—what a thoughtful gift. Thank you.” He held it out to Loren hesitantly. “Will you put it on me?”

Loren took the watch from him and fastened it around Eliot’s left wrist, his thumb passing over the sensitive skin as he did so. Holding Eliot’s gaze, he then pressed a tender openmouthed kiss to the inner part of his wrist, right above the band of the watch.

Eliot’s lips parted on a small gasp as Loren caressed the skin with his tongue, then mouthed his way up Eliot’s forearm, placing little sucking love bites up to the bend of his elbow and back down again.

“Loren,” Eliot moaned, and he swayed toward Loren, his green eyes dark with arousal and emotion. Loren cupped his cheek in his hand and leaned down and kissed him, the kiss starting out gentle but quickly turning hot and wet.

Eliot wrapped his arms around Loren’s neck, sucking on Loren’s tongue until Loren growled and pressed him back down into the depths of the big leather couch, coming over top of him and letting Eliot feel the full weight of his aroused body.

Eliot spread his legs, pulling his knees up, and Loren could feel them sliding along his sides until Eliot locked his ankles at the small of Loren’s back, arching up into him.

Loren gasped. “I need you, El. So much. Right now.”

“Yes” was Eliot’s hoarse answer as he dug his fingers into the muscles of Loren’s back. “Fuck me now.”

Loren pulled back long enough to wrestle them both out of their clothes before coming back down over the top of Eliot, both of them groaning at the skin-to-skin contact. He gripped Eliot’s wrists in his hands and pressed them into the couch above Eliot’s head.

“Keep them there and don’t move,” Loren growled. “I’m gonna lick and suck every inch of this gorgeous body.” Eliot whimpered in the back of his throat. Loren kissed him roughly, driving his tongue deep, tasting the hot sweetness of Eliot’s mouth before breaking the kiss. Eliot murmured a protest, then arched his neck back to give Loren access as Loren dragged his parted lips down to the hollow of Eliot’s throat.

Loren could feel the vibration of Eliot’s small moans against his lips, and he growled again and bit down on Eliot’s collarbone before trailing his tongue down to an excited pink nipple, sucking it into the depths of his mouth, lashing it with the tip of his tongue as Eliot writhed underneath him.

“Yes,” Eliot encouraged, his wrists still pressed to the couch over his head, moving his hips restlessly against Loren’s. Loren gave the other nipple the same treatment and then kissed his way down Eliot’s abdomen, nuzzling into the blond hair at his navel, breathing him in. Loren felt disappointment shoot through him when he discovered then that Eliot’s cock was flaccid. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake he’d made before, so he ignored it as best he could, taking comfort in Eliot’s rough breathing, the sheen of sweat on his golden skin, and the little cries he was making.

It was obvious that Eliot was very aroused, even if his dick hadn’t gotten the message, so Loren put it out of his mind and set about pleasuring him to the best of his ability. He tenderly licked the head of Eliot’s soft cock, bringing one hand down to caress his heavy balls, sliding his middle finger between Eliot’s cheeks to rub against his puckered entrance.

Loren lifted Eliot’s leg and draped it over his shoulder, opening him up and kissing the inside of his knee, then spit on two fingers and pushed one, then the other, deep inside Eliot’s ass, beginning a firm prostate massage as he mouthed and sucked Eliot’s cock and balls.

“Loren!” Eliot cried out, his back arching, and Loren could feel how Eliot’s thighs were trembling against him, could see the goose bumps pebbling his flawless skin. His cock didn’t react at all, but the tip glistened with moisture.

“Feel good, baby?” Loren purred, driving his fingers deep, lapping up the salty fluid with his tongue before stabbing hotly into the slit of Eliot’s dick.

“God yes,” Eliot whimpered, scrabbling at the arm of the couch over his head. “Fuck me!”

Loren eased Eliot’s leg down off his shoulder, then reached into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet and took out a condom, rolling it on in swift motions and slicking himself up as best he could with saliva. He hooked his hands behind Eliot’s knees and pushed them up and out, rocking the head of his cock against Eliot’s fluttering hole.

“I know it’s been a while,” Loren whispered, his hips pulsing, “but let me in, love. I need you.”

Eliot took a deep breath and pushed out, gritting his teeth as the fat head of Loren’s cock spread the stubborn muscles wide and slipped inside.

“That’s it,” Loren crooned, hanging his head down to watch himself. “Feels so good, El. So fucking good. You’re so sexy, baby.”

Eliot arched his back again as Loren relentlessly pushed deeper, and a groan welled up in Loren’s chest and spilled from his lips at the silky heat and tightness of Eliot’s ass.

“God,” Loren ground out, pushing Eliot’s knees back farther toward his chest. Eliot lifted his arms and locked them around Loren’s neck, threading his fingers through Loren’s hair and holding on tight as Loren started a measured thrusting, giving Eliot long, hard strokes, hilting himself.

Loren let go of Eliot’s knees and came down on top of him, and Eliot wrapped his legs high around Loren’s back, his hoarse gasping breaths loud in Loren’s ear. The sound of their skin slapping together echoed around the room, and at last Loren buried his face in Eliot’s neck and sobbed his pleasure as he came hard, his big body wracked with spasms.

They lay joined together for a long time, Eliot running his hands up and down Loren’s sweaty back, whispering love and praise to him until Loren finally eased himself away, skinning the full condom off and tossing it in a nearby box of trash.

He settled down on his side, his back against the couch cushions, and he pulled Eliot against him, spooning.

“It was so good, Loren,” Eliot whispered, reaching one hand behind him to caress Loren’s bare hip.

Loren kissed Eliot’s shoulder, then murmured in his ear, “I wish you could—” He broke off, kicking himself for bringing it up, but Eliot twined their fingers together and lifted their joined hands to his lips.

“I do too, Loren,” he said quietly. “But I hope you believe me when I say again that my enjoyment of our lovemaking doesn’t hinge on me jizzing all over the place.”

“I won’t bring it up ever again after this,” Loren promised. “I just can’t help but feel guilty, like I’m somehow using you—”

Eliot let go of their hands and turned in Loren’s arms, cupping Loren’s face in his palms. “Sex is important to a relationship, Loren. It makes me feel secure and loved to know that you need me, and that in this one area
I’m
the one giving you what you need.”

Eliot stroked his thumbs over Loren’s lips and whispered, “You’re doing so much to take care of me. This is the
only
way I know how to take care of you. Don’t diminish that, please, Loren. Let me give to you the one and only way that I can.”

Loren knew he could argue their relationship wasn’t about sex, that he didn’t
need
sex to be happy with Eliot, that what he needed was for Eliot to be as emotionally and mentally healthy as possible. But Loren could see how much the giving of himself, a tangible and overt expression of his love for Loren, meant to him. And in no way would Loren diminish that.

“I love you too, El” was all he said, and they kissed lazily before drifting off into a light sleep, entwined together.

LOREN BROKE
down the last box of the night and carried it out to the garage to put it on the stack of other boxes waiting for the moving company to pick up. He and Eliot were far from finished, but they’d unpacked enough to make their new house somewhat livable: the kitchen essentials washed and put away, linens and towels freshly laundered and folded, the bed made.

When Loren came back in, Eliot was rummaging in the fridge, making a muffled exclamation as he pulled out the bottle of sparkling cider Loren had hidden in there earlier, holding it up.

“The recovering alcoholic’s version of champagne?” he asked drily, but his eyes held a mischievous twinkle.

“You got it.” Loren handed him a couple of red plastic cups from an open bag on the counter. “Your champagne flute, my love. Let’s toast.”

Eliot poured while Loren went out to his truck and got the package Rebecca gave him that morning. He came back in and put it on the island, where Eliot eyed it.

“What’s that?” he asked, passing Loren a red cup with a splash of cider in it.

“Your mom gave it to me at the hospital when I was there to pick you up today,” Loren said, and he held his cup up and tapped it against Eliot’s. “To us.” They drank, grinning at each other, and then Eliot picked up the package and turned it over in his hands.

“She didn’t want to see me?” he asked in a wistful voice, and Loren’s heart ached.

“I think it was more that she felt you didn’t want to see
her
,” he replied gently. “She said she would like to be invited over for dinner when we’re settled, but in the meantime, she wanted you—us—to have this.”

He gave an encouraging nod, and Eliot pulled the wrapping paper off, revealing the back of a gorgeous cherrywood picture frame. When he turned it over to reveal what it contained, they both caught their breath.

It was a collage, the collection of photos beautifully matted and arranged. The centerpiece picture was of the two of them, about fourteen years old, sitting side by side on the couch in the Devlins’ family room. They were sound asleep, Eliot’s head on Loren’s shoulder and Loren’s cheek resting on top of Eliot’s hair. There was a Christmas tree glowing in the background.

“Oh my God,” Loren exclaimed, drifting his fingertips over the glass, tracing their sleeping faces. “This was that New Year’s Eve that we tried to stay up all night, and we managed to make it through the ball drop. I don’t remember much after that, and I certainly don’t remember falling asleep like this.” What he did recall was Dr. Devlin shaking him awake and ushering him upstairs to Eliot’s room, Eliot trudging and yawning beside him, both of them collapsing fully clothed on top of Eliot’s bed and passing out again.

The rest of the pictures making up the collage were of their childhood: Loren and Eliot running pell-mell through the woods behind the Devlins’ house, hair streaming out behind them and joy in their faces; the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor with their heads bent close together over something in front of them; birthdays, grinning like loons with their arms around each other’s shoulders; Loren in his football uniform, his teeth gleaming white in his dirty face as he punched his helmet in the air overhead after a play; Eliot leaning on his elbows against the front porch railing, gazing out at something unseen, the setting sun illuminating his face and making his green eyes look like emeralds.

The images were haunting yet full of life and happiness, and Loren felt tears gathering. There was a small card tucked in a fold of the wrapping paper, and Loren pulled it out, opening it up and reading in a husky voice, “You were always meant to be. Love, Mom.”

“She saw us, Loren, before
we
saw us,” Eliot said in a hushed voice. “I never knew she had these.”

“She saw
you
, El,” Loren replied quietly. “She saw your heart. And she loves you.”

Eliot sniffed, his eyes glistening. Loren propped the picture frame up and they looked at it while they drank their cider, reminiscing as best they could about the events depicted in the collage. Surprisingly Eliot’s recall of his early childhood was better than his later teenage years, before the mental illness had ravaged his brain.

After that, Eliot carried the frame to their bedroom and Loren hung it on the wall above their dresser. They took a quick shower together before settling down in their big bed, the soft sheets and down comforter making a snug cocoon. Eliot was asleep in minutes, his sleeping pill taking quick effect, and Loren lay there for a while, listening to Eliot’s soft snores and the noises of an unfamiliar house.

That was the reason Dr. Babcock had continued Eliot on the powerful sleep aid, wanting Eliot to have a good night’s sleep each night as he adjusted to life with Loren in new surroundings. When he felt ready, he could transition into taking them as needed if he felt particularly stressed and worried about his rest.

Just then Eliot gave a soft sigh and turned in his sleep, burrowing in Loren’s arms, and Loren reveled in the utter peace and contentment of the moment, feeling happier than he’d been in a long time.

FOR THE
next few days Eliot and Loren slept late each morning, lazing around together in bed with juice, bagels, and the paper. Once or twice they made love, Eliot glorying in his body’s positive response and the happiness on Loren’s face when he was able to bring Eliot to gasping, whimpering ecstasy with his talented mouth and hands.