Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) (26 page)

I feel his hands tighten on my thighs and I close my eyes, allowing the fantastic feeling to overcome me, consume me, devour me, “Ah! Ah!” Eric cries out, his orgasm racking his body, his cock swells against mine, pushing me over the edge and we both explode. Flying over the cliff of ecstasy. Savoring the sensation of our mutual orgasm.

Reality settles over me. We’ve both just come, we’ve shared our first orgasm together.

You have another man’s jizz all over you, you dirty fucking whore.

CALVIN freezes, the air between us burns ice cold, I look at him, and he looks petrified. This is it.

“Get it off me,” he growls in disgust. He pulls back off the bed, he’s not looking at me, no, he’s looking at the remnants of our…my blood runs cold. “Get it off me. It’s so fucking dirty, so fucking wrong,” he cries out, his voice is different, like a man possessed. His demons are winning.
 

I scramble off the bed and walk up to him, grabbing his shoulders. “Calvin?”

“It’s wrong, it’s fuck, get it off me, goddammit, fucking get it off of me.” He pulls away from me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Get the fuck away from me,” he growls at me and I want to run from the room, but it’s not him, it’s not him…get away from him…shower.
 

I don’t know how I manage to do it, but I get my feet to move, moving away from him, doing as he’s asked me to. Fuck! I knew there wasn’t going to be anything good to come out of this encounter, he warned me, but I’ll be fucking dammed if I knew it would be something like this. I take a deep breath as I turn on the light and reach into the shower, pulling the handle. The shower immediately starts running and warming. I know this isn’t him, this isn’t my Calvin out there. This is the product of what he’s been through, but goddammit, this fucking stings.
 

I fight the urge to cry, to let this envelope me too. He needs me, he needs me to be strong. I pull a pair of boxers off of the shelf in the bathroom and pull them on. He doesn’t need to see me naked, not right now. I step out of the bathroom and the petrified look is still on his face but now he’s pacing back and forth across my bedroom. “Calvin, come on.” I wave him toward me, but he isn’t hearing me.
 

He’s mumbling something but I can’t make it out. He looks down at his chest, disgust washes over his face and he tries to touch it, to brush it off, but he always stops himself. “It’s not right, it’s not, you don’t let another man come all over you…” I’m finally able to make out his musings, but I do my best to block him out. Each time he mumbles about disgust it hurts just a little more.
 

“Calvin, come on, the shower’s ready.”
 

He looks at me briefly, but it’s like the wheel is turning but the hamster fell off. I walk up to him, behind him as he walks away from me, and I touch his shoulder. There is something in him that shifts. I can see some of the tension leaving his body with my touch, a calming effect of sorts. “Come on Cal, the shower’s ready,” I whisper through heavy emotion, through the unshed tears I want to spill all over the place. I can’t do it though, I have to be strong. I have to be here to pull him back.
 

I turn him and he follows my lead, toward the bathroom. “Come on, Cal, we’ll get it off of you. We’ll wash it away.” I take a deep breath. The pain is almost too much to bear, but I’ve got to do this, I’ve got to show him that he’s alright, that what’s happened isn’t disgusting but something far more amazing than that. I help him into the walk-in and he steps under the spray, putting his whole body under it.
 

There is a combination of things that happen. One, the proof of our orgasms slides down his body, two, he shivers, snapping out of whatever trance he was in, and three, he completely crashes. His entire body goes slack, and he starts to fall, but I’m faster. I wrap my arms tightly around him as we both slide to the floor. Full body shaking sobs rip through him as he cries out in agony. He doesn’t fight me, no, he turns into me, snuggling in and burying his face in my chest.
 

I turn us around so that the water is sliding down my back and I could shield him from the spray. Holding him while he cries brings out every emotion I’d suppressed when this all started. Tears streak down my cheeks but they’re no longer for the selfish reasons I’d had before. My heart breaks for him. Sure, seeing him throw up was one thing, but this, this is pure agony, both on his end and mine.
 

I gently stroke his back, running my hand through his hair and holding him close to me while he continues to work through it in his head. I don’t say anything. Sometimes the best things are left unsaid and I take my own piece of selfish comfort in knowing that I’m helping calm him down. His crying is softening, he’s even started to sniffle a couple of times, but then he just snuggles into me harder than before.
 

It isn’t until the water starts to run cold and I feel him shiver against me that I finally find my voice. “Cal, we need to move or we’re going to freeze to death.” I try and succeed in keeping my voice light. It’s light enough that he pulls back, his eyes are fire engine red with tears still sliding down his cheeks when he looks at me. “Can you stand so I can get towels?” I ask as I rub my hands up and down his biceps and he shakes his head, but he slides off of my lap and onto the colder tile. He hisses when the cold registers and I stand up, turning off the shower and stepping out, grabbing one of my big towels from the shelves and taking it back into the shower. I wrap it around him and he unfurls enough to pull it around his front and huddle into it.
 

“Come on, let’s get you off the tile and into something warm and dry.”
 

“My clothes are downstairs, in my car.” His voice is shaky, his emotions are threatening to overcome him once again and I don’t want that to happen.
 

“I have a pair of sweats. They’re too small and I’ve never worn them.” I feel the need to tell him that and I don’t know why. Unsure of how he’d feel putting my previously worn clothes on.
 

“Worn or not, I’d still wear them,” he tells me softly.
 

I give him a sad smile and grab my own towel, wrapping it around my waist and drying off the now soaked boxers I was wearing when I got into the shower and I step into the walk-in closet to grab a pair of sweatpants for me and the smaller pair for Calvin, plus one of my t-shirts for him too.
 

I dry myself off quickly, avoiding truly thinking about what happened not that long ago. I can’t process it, let alone understand it until him and I talk about it. But that isn’t going to be tonight.
 

Once dressed, I go back into the bathroom and set the clothes on the counter. “I’ll let you do this alone…”
 

“No, stay, please?” His voice is barely a whisper.
 

“Of course.” I step back into the shower with him and crouch down before him. His eyes meet mine. They are worried and lined with sadness and fear. “Are you afraid of me?” I ask him gently.
 

He shakes his head. “I hurt you,” he mumbles.
 

My heart breaks again. “No, Calvin, you didn’t hurt me, not at all.”
 

He gives me quizzical look. “You’re not offended by what I said?”
 

My mouth quirks up in half a smile, confident of his answer. “Only if you meant it.”
 

He vehemently shakes his head. “No, I… I honestly don’t know what happened, what came over me.”
 

“I believe that. You were not yourself, you weren’t the Calvin I know,” I tell him with a cock of my head. “Come on, let’s get you dried off.” I hold out my hand and wait for him to take it. When he does I stand up, bringing him with me. I guess being taller and stronger has some advantages and he comes up willingly. I hold him steady, giving him a chance to check his balance before leading him from the shower. His entire body is shaking, though I’m not sure if it’s cold or adrenaline that’s crashing through him, my only goal is to get him dressed and warm.
 

I rub at his arms, helping him to warm up and dry off. He starts to help me enough that we can get the t-shirt on him. He’s practically swimming in it, and it’s kind of cute seeing him in my t-shirt. I can help but smirk. “What’s so fu..nn..ny?” he says through chattering teeth.
 

“Not funny. I just like you in my t-shirt,” I tell him and he gives me a smile before he bends down and dries off the rest of himself and pulls on the sweatpants. Once we’re done, I run a brush through my hair and tie it back.
 

“Leave it untied,” he tells me, “I like it when it’s down.”
 

Seeing my Calvin return back to me warms my heart and heals the cracks. I undo the tie and throw it back in the bowl on the counter. I turn toward him and lean against the counter. “Your wish is my command,” I tease and he wraps his arms around my chest, holding onto me for dear life and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him too. Nothing sexual, nothing more than him needing me to hold him and I’m okay with that.
 

He pulls back after a moment. “Will you lay down with me?” he asks.
 

I smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell him and he leads me from the bathroom and back up onto my bed.

“DO you want under or on top of the covers?” Eric asks from behind me.
 

“On top, for now,” I tell him as I climb up ahead of him and throw the pillow he was lying on back up with the rest and I lay down, kind of in the middle of the bed, but I’ve done that on purpose. I really need him close to me. I don’t know why, and I can’t explain it, but when he grabbed my shoulders in the middle of my tirade, I felt his comforting touch. I felt him pulling me back down from the ledge of panic I was riding.
 

It wasn’t until it all washed away that I lost it and he was there to catch me. Jesus, I’ve never cried so hard before in my life. Eric hasn’t climbed onto the bed yet and I turn toward him, reaching out for him. He looks afraid. “I need this. I need you,” I whisper, conveying to him that I want this, that I won’t let the darkness win again. I can’t. I can’t let it overcome what I feel for him and what I feel for us.