Family Man (26 page)

Vince paused for a moment, trying to figure out what Trey was refusing, then gave up. “No, what?”

Trey’s hands tightened on his pant legs. “I don’t want to go inside.”

Oh.
Okay.
Vin tried to get himself to think faster. “You want to drive around for awhile?”

“No. I want to go home.” He shut his eyes and breathed shallowly, like his lungs wouldn’t quite fill.

You can figure this out, Vin.
A possible answer dawned on him, and he stilled, wanting to be moved, but he also didn’t want to assume. “You…want to go back to my place?”

Eyes still closed, Trey nodded. “Please.”

Heart swelling, Vince reached over and squeezed his arm. “You got it.”

He kept tight hold of Trey’s hand all the way to his parking garage, letting go only long enough for them to get out of the car. He took Trey’s hand and led him down the walk, into the elevator, through the front door. Once they were inside, he stayed close, watching his lover, trying to anticipate what he needed. Just as Vince was about to ask if he wanted anything to drink, Trey spoke.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Trey stood at the window, looking out, at what Vince didn’t know. It was still dark, dawn not even tinting the eastern sky. Vince came up behind him, wanting to hold him, not sure if he should. “Is that something you have to decide right now?”

Trey made an angry sound through his nose. He stared at the street almost five minutes while Vin shifted uncertainly behind him. “I can’t.”

He sounded broken, and that about did Vin in. “Can’t do what, baby?”

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching her destroy herself. Destroy Gram. Destroy me.” He gripped the windowsill so tightly Vin heard his fingers digging into the wood, and when he spoke, it was in a whisper. “I wanted her to die, Vin. Not because I hate her or I think it’s what she deserves. I just want it to be over.” His shoulders caved in and began to shake. “It has to be over. I can’t do it anymore.”

Vince put his hand on Trey’s hip and kissed the back of his neck. “Then don’t.”

“I have to. I can’t leave it all to Gram. I have to do it, but I can’t, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.” Vince put his arms around Trey and pulled him back against his chest. “You’re not going to worry about it, not tonight. Tonight you’re going to forget about it and let me make love to you.”

Trey sank into him, but he also said, “What about tomorrow?”

“One day at a time. Worry about tomorrow when it comes. And know that when it does, I’m still going to be right here. It isn’t just you and Sophia anymore, Trey. You’re family now.” He kissed Trey again, lingering against his temple. “My family.”

Trey didn’t cry, but he came apart all the same, turning into Vince’s arms, shaking, breathing hard and heavy. Vince held him, swaying slightly, murmuring soft and soothing sounds, stroking Trey with strong, sure hands.

“Take me to bed,” Trey whispered. “Please.”

Vince did. He led Trey to the bedroom. He took his lover’s face in his hands and kissed him, hard and deep. He pulled Trey’s shirt over his head and held still while Trey unbuttoned Vince’s own before pushing it from his shoulders. He stepped out of his pants as Trey removed his, and then he eased Trey back toward the bed.

Vince greased his hand and took their cocks together as he pressed Trey down, covering him, loving him, making a safe place. Vince kissed him and stroked him, meeting each thrust until he felt Trey let go. Vince chased after, pumping out against his lover’s belly, their sweaty bodies brushing as they kissed their way back down.

Despite hardly sleeping the night before, Trey rose early the next morning. He went to both Full Moon and The Rose and arranged to start working again. He went by campus to talk to his professor about his missed assignments. He also went to see his mom. He reported that she was out of the ICU. She was talking more, and starting to make more sense, although she still had trouble finding certain words. The doctors predicted she’d be home within the week, although she’d need to do physical therapy for awhile and have several follow-up tests over the next few days.

“They have no idea,” Trey said that night, as they lay in bed. “They still don’t know what caused it.” He laughed bitterly. “One of them had the nerve to tell me that her drinking had nothing to do with it.”

“Maybe it doesn’t?”

“I don’t believe it for a second. She’s been poisoning herself for years. Pills, alcohol, cough syrup.”

“I still don’t get that last one,” Vince confessed.

“I know. But it’s the worst one of all. It turns her into a zombie. I’d rather she downed a fifth of vodka and called it good.”

They fell asleep after that. At some point in the night, Trey shook Vince awake, bearing down on Vince in the dark.

Vince blinked up at him, smiling and teasing a hand down his lover’s face. He started to speak, but Trey placed a hand over his mouth, gently, but enough to stay his speech. Vince didn’t say anything more after that, just waited.

Trey stroked Vince’s lips reverently with his thumb. Then he bent to Vince’s neck, kissing him hard as he splayed a hand against Vince’s groin.

Shutting his eyes on a soft moan, Vince tilted his neck to the side and arched his hips into Trey’s questing hand.

When Trey’s mouth began to blaze a hot, wet path down Vince’s chest, Vince clutched at the sides of his pillow. He bit his lip as Trey laved each nipple, groaned as Trey slid his tongue down the dark trail of hair leading to his groin. When Trey reached Vince’s cock, Vin opened his legs wide to give him access.

Trey pushed his legs wider, higher.

A slick, warm finger pressed into Vince’s hole as Trey bore down on his cock.

Vince gasped and pushed back, caught up in the riot of sensation between his cock and his ass. He stretched quickly now, opening eagerly for Trey’s fingers, but something told Vince they were in for more tonight. Even so, when he heard the crinkle of foil, his belly quivered.

Trey stilled, his long thin fingers splaying against Vince’s abdomen in silent question.

With a rough huff, Vince nodded and forced himself to relax.

Trey had used the dildo on him a couple of times, and he was sure Trey had been everything but thumb inside him more than once, but still, when Trey breached him, it was a different kind of pinch and push, a tightness that made him gasp and reach for Trey’s arms to have him pause. Just for a moment, just long enough to become accustomed to it.

To Trey, poised on the brink of being inside him.

Squeezing Trey’s arms, Vince nodded, bearing down as Trey entered him further. And further, and further, until he felt his lover’s balls press against his own. Opening his eyes, he looked up to find Trey hovering over him, eyes wild with lust, smiling.

Vin pulled his head down and stole a lingering kiss. “Go on,” he whispered, and took hold of Trey’s shoulders.

He might have encouraged that a little too quickly, he realized as Trey’s thrusts began in earnest, piercing him with pain. It faded though, replaced by nothing but fullness and tightness and pleasure, pleasure like no dildo or fingers could give him, like nothing he’d ever hoped to know. It wasn’t about size or skill but about the hard, pulsing
life
moving inside him, claiming him, giving him what no other lover had ever managed to give him: space to come down. To not be the big man, not right now, at least not the kind of big man he’d been taught to be. Vince wasn’t even sure he knew anymore what that definition was. This time he wanted to be the one to decide what being a man meant. He wanted to be the big man who took his lover’s cock in his ass, who gave, who surrendered, who could trust and find a place of safety inside that reach.

Maybe he could write that definition for himself now because this time he was with a man. Maybe it was because the someone he was with was Trey.

Trey took care of him, thrusting hard and deep and stroking too—a little clumsily at times, not yet sure of his rhythm, still finding his feet. Vince let him take his time, happy to be the learning curve. Trey built him up to the edge and sent him over, and Vince went gladly, happily. He floated back down as Trey followed after, so fucking gorgeous as he came. Trey grinned down at him, so goddamned proud of himself he looked ready to burst. Vince smiled back at him, feeling much the same.

When Trey started to pull out, though, Vince stopped him and reached between them, guiding Trey’s hand to the edges of the condom.

“Have to hold it,” he said gruffly, and he winked. “That’s the one thing that doesn’t change no matter who the players are.”

Trey flushed, just a little, and took hold of the latex as he carefully removed himself from Vince. Fighting off the weakness of his body, Vince sat up and coached him into tying it off before depositing it on the floor beside the bed. Then he slid back into Trey’s waiting arms.

“That was so hot,” Trey whispered, and pinched a healthy piece of Vince’s ass. “Oh my God.”

Vince smiled, flexing his hole gently, testing its soreness. It was decidedly well-used.

It felt good.

He nuzzled Trey’s neck. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Trey nipped at his temple, almost purring as he slid closer to Vince’s body. “Definitely.”

Chapter Thirty-One

It took less than two months for the Fierros to completely take over my life.

It started simply enough, with a continuation of the things they were already doing, cleaning and cooking and bringing things over, sending Gram and me out of the house, generally down to the restaurant where we were fed again or asked how we were doing, what was new in our lives, what we needed that we hadn’t been given. We were shown pictures of new babies and invited to tee ball games and birthday parties, of which there seemed to be one every other day at least.

Then one day Cessy showed up at the house.

She was Vinnie’s second cousin, nineteen years old and full of the usual Fierro fire. “I’m a Certified Nurse’s Aid, but I want to go to school to be a registered nurse. Grandpa Frank doesn’t like the idea, because he worries I can’t keep up with the work, so I’m going to show him how good I am at it.”

I nodded, not sure exactly why she was telling me all this—not until I realized her intent was to show up every day and take care of my mother.

She did a little work around the house, but mostly she made sure my mother got up and down the stairs, took a shower, and ate rather than drank her meals. There were no trips to Lucky’s on Cessy’s watch. Either Cessy volunteered to go with her, or on the rare occasions Mom managed to sneak out on her own, she found herself unable to locate any money. When she complained about being held prisoner in her home, Cessy turned into a smaller version of Vinnie’s mother. No amount of whining or complaining could move her. I knew their victory was only temporary. I’d learned long ago that no amount of manipulation would keep an alcoholic from drinking, but my stark pessimism didn’t seem to matter to Cessy. Whenever I brought it up, she’d shoo me down to Emilio’s.

Whether my mother’s sobriety lasted or not, at least I didn’t have to deal with it alone.

Being at the restaurant was different now too. People had always been friendly to me there, but now they welcomed me like I was one of their own. Marco and Frank took turns nagging me into taking a job there, pointing out all the advantages. I’d make less tips, sure, but I’d save money on EL passes. The food was better too, and I’d get it free as an employee. This was the most ridiculous argument, as neither Gram nor I had paid for anything since Mom had gone into her coma. It didn’t stop Marco and Frank, though. Nothing, it seemed, could stop Marco and Frank. They were determined I should work for them, and they’d use any and all guilt trips and excuses to achieve their ends.

It wasn’t until Vinnie assured me I didn’t have to let them bully me that I realized how much I enjoyed their bullying. I put in my notice at The Rose and donned an Emilio’s apron.

By the end of the second month I’d quit Full Moon too, because I had enough shifts at the restaurant to make up for both jobs, and because between all the free food and the spare time and possibly simply Fierro magic, the money seemed to be working out fine on its own.

No one said anything about Vin and me dating, either. I tried to be circumspect at first for his sake, but this only made him that much more belligerent about holding my hand or flirting with me while I was working. Some of the family members didn’t care for our being gay, I was almost certain of it, but at any signs of disapproval, Lisa came down on them, and in her absence, Frank took over. I often wondered if his support of our relationship was more to impress Gram than because he believed in gay rights, but whatever the motivation, he’d taken up the rainbow torch and showed no signs of putting it down.

That seemed to be the Fierro way: once something was decided, heaven help you if you tried to stop them. They didn’t listen when Gram and I told them they were helping too much, that we couldn’t accept so much sacrifice on our part. “You’re family,” they’d all reply, as if that ended the argument.

And it usually did.

One beautiful Saturday in October, I woke to Vinnie’s curtains opening noisily, letting a bright shaft of sunlight into the bedroom.