Oh, that was Glen’s lover: someone who could master his own body, who could pleasure someone else. This man wouldn’t settle for a quickie, wouldn’t use a blowjob as currency, wouldn’t bend over because someone expected him to.
This man would take pleasure and give loyalty, and Glen didn’t want to give his body to anyone else.
Cash let go of his nipples, letting his hands drop as he cried out, and Glen slowed his hand on Cash’s cock to hard and powerful.
“Ah! So close.” Cash leaned forward, catching his weight on his hands, and took over the rhythm, squeezing his muscles with every stroke until Glen’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his thighs and stomach started to shake, and—
“Augh!” Cash’s come, thick and hot, slid over Glen’s hand, and he let out a sound like a sob. “Come. Please, Gecko! Come for—”
The orgasm rolled through him. Slow and strong. Filling Cash up whether he wanted it or not.
Cash spurted across his stomach again, and he clenched Glen’s cock so hard Glen’s vision went dark with the pleasure.
“Good,” he groaned. “So good!”
The climax took over, and he dropped his hand to grab Cash’s thighs and squeeze until Cash gave a final cry and collapsed on Glen’s chest, and Glen’s entire body tightened to the point of unbearable pressure and released like a coiled spring.
Cash stayed on top of him, keeping Glen inside even as Glen’s come slid out of his body and over his balls.
“That was messy,” Cash mumbled. He pulled back enough to lick a spurt of his come off Glen’s chest.
“Yeah,” Glen gasped. “Messy. That’s the word.”
Cash’s chuckle tickled his skin. “Wonderful,” he said, licking another spot. “Amazing.” And he licked Glen’s nipple.
“Perfect,” Glen said, catching Cash’s chin and lifting his chest off the bed to meet him in a kiss.
He tasted Cash’s come on his tongue, and heat and the banked urgency surged in his own loins.
“Perfect,” Cash whispered. “It will always be perfect.”
Always was such a big word. Glen needed an honest word first.
“I have to say something,” he rasped. “But if I say it and you run, they will have to pick up my pieces and donate them to science ’cause I won’t survi—”
“I love you,” Cash said, voice dropping throatily. “I love you so much. I know we’re going to have to do our own things. I have promises to keep, and your job is your job. But wherever you go, you need to know I’m with you in my heart. And we need to find a way to be together as often as possible, even if I have to learn to fly a damned airplane.”
Glen closed his eyes; they were burning again. “EMT,” he said, terrified at the thought of Cash behind the pilot’s controls. “We can do EMT.”
“Only if you lo—”
“I love you back.” He had to say it—he couldn’t have breathed another minute if it had stayed pressing on his chest.
“Glen?” Cash said uncertainly, thumb sliding along Glen’s wet cheekbone.
Hell.
Glen opened his eyes, embarrassed. He didn’t cry at funerals, weddings, or sad commercials. He hadn’t cried when Cash had left him in a hospital in Jalisco. But dammit if he wasn’t crying now.
“I love you,” he said, Cash’s face blurring in front of his eyes. “And we’ll plan. You’ll keep your promises. We’ll find a way. We can do it. It can’t be any harder when we’re talking and in love than it could be apart and missing you.”
Cash took a deep, shuddering breath, and before Glen could ask what was wrong, he collapsed on Glen’s chest. “You’ll have to keep me now,” he sobbed. “You’re the only home I’ve ever wanted.”
He was sobbing too hard for Glen to tell him that no place would be home without Cash there in his heart. Glen held him, kissing his hair, his forehead, his cheeks, while he cried, figuring that they’d have time for him to say it. Time this week, time next month, time before Cash left to go on tour.
He’d say it later, after they both slept, clinging tightly together on the bed. That relief, that knowledge that they would have time, would make his sleep deep and easy, make his hurts feel like they were healing as he breathed.
Of course they’d have time. They’d have all the time the heavens would allow.
They’d have a lifetime, and it might not be enough, but it would be theirs together.
Flying into the Sunset
CLIVE Royer, Cash’s manager, had lost most of his hair and gained a stoop and a potbelly after he left the service, but his sunshiny smile and excited gestures hadn’t changed. Glen stood in the tech booth at the recording studio, listening to Cash and Quincet, his band, finish up vocals on the final song of their album.
Glen knew nothing about music, but as he watched Clive practically glow with excitement, he had to admit, he shared some of the enthusiasm.
He really liked that song.
“That’s great!” Clive said into the microphone after Cash’s last word drifted through the sound system. “That’s a wrap. We work on choreography and costumes next week, so enjoy your time off!”
The boys—all of them Cash’s age or younger—gave tired cheers and started to put away their equipment. Cash played keyboard on this one, but he’d cut most of the instrumentals earlier. This take had been vocals only, and Glen had no idea how that worked, but he was glad it was over.
“They sound really good,” Glen said, and Clive practically danced around the booth like a toddler listening to Sesame Street’s theme song.
“Oh my God, they do! I tell you, writing your little adventures off in Mexico took some fast-talking, but it was so worth it to get him back and happy and making that music. Please tell me you’ll bring him back a year after the tour’s over. The rest of the guys are on board. Give him some rest, some sex, some happiness…. Those kids have one more solid-gold album in them after this—I can feel it!”
Glen chuckled. “Well, he’s already applied to get his EMT training after he comes off the tour bus—you’ll have to see how that takes.”
Clive rolled his eyes. “Did you hear that voice? That angel’s voice come out of that million-dollar little face? You’re going to take that voice and that face into search-and-rescue operations? Are you shitting me?”
Glen shrugged. “What can I say? He wants us to be together when he’s not on tour. That doesn’t mean he won’t be ready to go back when it’s time. Just means the kid’s super smart, and he gets bored.”
Clive grunted. “Well, he’s not going to be bored for the next six months. You’ve got our itinerary?”
“Yeah. We appreciate the free tickets.”
Clive grinned. “We appreciate your company being willing to do private air service at three of the venues, on the house. And I understand everyone’s a fan.”
Glen chuckled. “Actually two of our clients, Tevyn Moore and his husband, Mallory, have asked for tickets as well.”
Clive’s face went a little slack. “Tevyn Moore the snowboarder?” He grinned at the guys in the booth, and Cash turned and waved at him, then winked at Glen.