Henry's End (20 page)

With a smile matching his lover’s, Quinn put a hand behind Henry’s neck, pulling him close. Pressing their foreheads together, Quinn breathed in deeply and they both remained silent for a few moments before his lips moved to Henry’s ear, softly grazing the lobe with his front teeth.

“Stay forever,” was all he whispered.

“A cop? Seriously, Henry? Heh.”
It was a mocking sound.

Turning his head to face him, he tried to speak, but he was so angry, nothing came out.

“He’s not going to protect you. I hope you know that.” He smiled, that gorgeous one dimple smile.

… And Henry hated himself for thinking it was beautiful.

“If I want to kill you, there’s no way he can stop me. I’m trained for this, you know. What’s he trained for? Pulling over stoned teenagers for speeding? If something even mildly dangerous happened,” he laughed, “he’d be totally fucked.”

“Go away,” Henry choked out.

“You know you don’t mean that or I’d already be long gone.” He pressed his long, hard cock against Henry’s ass. “And I’m not.” He continued to slowly grind against him. “So what, you got your fag-loving friend to ship me to this hellhole. It didn’t get me out of your head, did it? I’m not going anywhere, Henry. When are you finally going to figure that out? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

“You’re wrong. I’m his,” Henry hissed.

“His? Yeah, right,” he mocked. “Have you even told him you love him? No. And you know why? Because you love me. He’s going to watch me fuck you, watch you take every last inch and see how much you love it, because you know you do. And after I make him watch me fuck you until your ass bleeds, just like I did that last night on the floor, maybe I’ll kill him and let you watch that.”

Wrapping his fingers through Henry’s hair, he slammed his head into the oak posts of the Mission-style headboard. “I love fucking you when you’re unconscious and all bloody.” He slammed his head again.

“No! No! Get off of me, you sick motherfucker.” He fought back, throwing his head in the other direction, away from the headboard.

He was now being restrained and couldn’t move out of his grasp. He twisted left, then right, then left again, fighting to break free.

“Let me go,” he screamed and the grasp was gone, white light filling the darkness as he gasped for air.

“It’s OK. Henry, you’re OK. You’re here with me. He’s not here. It’s just us. Only you and me,” Quinn’s voice was calm and even.

Without even opening his eyes, Henry got to his knees and dragged his wet tee-shirt over his head. Stretching to the sheets, he assumed the Balasana pose and concentrated on his breathing, fighting hard to push from his mind how strange and disturbing this must all seem to Quinn.

Feeling Quinn get off the bed, he heard him leave the room and a heaviness descended, incarcerating his heart. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to describe what he was feeling. He’d made it three and a half weeks sleeping every night in Quinn’s bed, their bed, before the demons found his new locale. What could have set this off? He wracked his brain, but came up empty-handed. And that was the scariest part. That’s how he let Cody hold him hostage, never knowing when he’d break out of his subconscious, angered from being repressed.

Henry longed for his PalmPilot. He needed to record the number on his nightmare chart, satisfying some OCD ritual, completing what needed to be done. But his PalmPilot was in his laptop case in the other room.

With a big sports bottle filled with water and two towels, one wet with cool water and the other dry, Quinn re-entered the room.

Sitting up on his side of the bed, Henry looked forlorn. “I’m really sorry,” he began.

“Shhh.” Quinn handed him the water bottle and pressed the cool, wet cloth against his sweat-soaked hairline. “Turn your back to me.” Quinn pressed the cloth against the back of his neck and with strong hands kneaded the knots from his shoulders.

“I made it almost a month,” Henry’s voice was soft.

“Yup and now it’s happened and you don’t have to stress about the first time anymore.”

Peering over his shoulder, Henry looked into Quinn’s eyes, “Did you know I was stressed about it?”

Running his index and middle fingers softly down Henry’s cheek, Quinn silently nodded.

Henry leaned his face into Quinn’s hand, closing his eyes and sighing. “I didn’t want that to happen.”

“I know. But it was this thing between us – waiting for it to happen. And now it has. So it’s not between us anymore. And we’re both still here,” Quinn smiled, “and he’s not.”

Turning his face into Quinn’s hand, Henry kissed his palm. “It’s just us.”

“It is just us. That wall had to come down. It did and we’re still standing. Nothing left separating us.”

Quinn was right. Henry could see it plain as day. Tonight’s nightmare was actually a godsend, eradicating unspoken fears and removing boundaries that had been deeply rooted in place.

With a hand on each of Quinn’s cheeks, Henry longed to tell him that he loved him, but the words, “Thank you,” came out instead.

“For what?”

“Being so good to me tonight. So understanding.”

“Pffft.” Quinn shrugged his shoulders.

Henry shook his head, not understanding Quinn’s intent.

“Henry, this is what you do for people you love.”

Searching Quinn’s eyes, there was no mocking. Only sincerity.

“Did you just say the “L” word to me?”

“Does that surprise you?” Quinn asked.

“Yes and no.”

“Does it make you happy?”

“Very definitely, yes.” He brought Quinn’s face very close to his. “I’m ready for the rest of our relationship. More than you can imagine. It’s all I think about.”

“And how do we do that?” Quinn was confused by Henry’s response.

Crawling over Quinn, Henry opened the nightstand drawer on Quinn’s side of the bed and pulled out a condom and the bottle of lubricating liquid.

“No more barriers. No more fears. Just us. You’re right, I needed that to happen tonight. I lived through it. It didn’t kill me. I was letting that fear control me.” He shook his head.

Quinn’s expression was blank as he was processing what was going on.

Taking Quinn’s hand, he wrapped it around his cock, and with his hand over Quinn’s, they stroked him to hardness. Tearing open the condom packet, Henry tossed the wrapper to the floor, and began to unroll the latex sheath over himself as Quinn watched.

Cocking his head to the side, “Are you going to fuck me?”

“Damn right.” Henry smiled, squirting liquid in his palm and wrapping a fist around Quinn’s semi-erect cock. “I’m not letting anything or anyone come between us anymore. You. You’re my only priority. Making you happy. That’s all that matters.”

Quinn hardened to a combination of Henry’s words and strokes.

Leaning forward, he gave Quinn a quick, hard kiss. “Now turn around.”

Turning on his knees, Quinn faced away from Henry who softly pushed him down by the shoulder so that his face was on his pillow. Pouring some lube onto his fingers, he quickly massaged it into Quinn. There was an urgency in his motions, they weren’t slow and gentle, but rather rapid and rushed, as if he needed to get someplace quickly, racing to erase everything that had come before.

Briefly he explored Quinn with his finger, hardening at his sounds of pleasure. Pulling out his finger, he stretched his body along Quinn’s, laying on top of his back, his arms wrapped around him. Lifting his cheek off Quinn’s shoulder, he gave it a quick kiss and ran his hands down his back as he sat back on his knees behind him again.

Positioning the head of his cock at Quinn’s opening, Henry grabbed Quinn’s hips, pressing past the tight sphincter ring and was sucked deeply into his ass.

“Oh God,” he wasn’t sure who said it as he started relentlessly plowing into his lover, lost to the sublime feeling.

“Fuck, I’ve been missing out,” Henry was shocked at how good it felt. Pulling Quinn up by the shoulder into a near seated position, he reached around him to stroke his erection with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Quinn’s muscular stomach to control their movement.

“Oh God, Henry. I don’t want this to ever end. You feel so good.”

“I’ll fuck you as often as you want me to,” he groaned, buried as deeply as was physically possible.

Taking his arm from Quinn’s midsection, they continued to move in rhythm as he reached for Quinn’s chin, pulling his face around.

Seeking Quinn’s lips, he wanted his tongue in his mouth, needing yet another point of connection between the two of them.

“Quinn,” he cried into his mouth.

“I know, babe. I know.”

“Quinn, look at me.” Henry stopped moving.

Craning his neck around to see him, he waited for Henry to speak.

“I love you so much.”

Smiling, Quinn’s eyes said it all. “I know.”

“I love you so, so much…” He buried his face in the nook of his neck as he rammed his last powerful thrusts deep into his lover.

The doorbell rang and Henry
put the chef’s knife down onto the cutting board. Wiping off his hands, he glanced at his watch and headed toward the front door. Shaking his head, he could not contain his smile.

“Did you forget your keys again,” he opened the door to a smiling Quinn.

It had become a running joke between the two men. Henry had even bought Quinn a new keychain with a detachable segment for his house keys only to find the detachable section never got reattached and didn’t fix the problem.

“Nope,” Quinn leaned in, pressing a hard kiss to Henry’s lips. “I just need a third hand. It’s a design flaw,” and he handed Henry the large basket he was carrying.

“What’s this,” Henry took the basket, leaning his face into it and inhaling deeply. “Oh my God, they smell beautiful. Are they lilacs?” He walked back to the kitchen and put the basket down on the counter.

“Yup. Lilacs and ivy.” Quinn watched Henry’s reaction as he unpacked the plants.

Feeling the soil, Henry grabbed a cup of water and fed the plants, “Let’s get a pot and some potting soil this weekend, we can put them out on the deck. Maybe get a little trellis thing for the ivy.” Then he looked up at Quinn, “What a nice surprise. Did you just see them on your way home?”

“Nope.” Quinn smiled, his eyes shining with delight.

“So, what’s the story behind them?”

“It’s more the meaning behind them.” Quinn pulled a beer from the refrigerator, “Want one?”

Henry shook his head no, and picked up the chef’s knife, poised to slice a tomato. “So, what’s the meaning?”

Popping the top off his bottle, Quinn took a long swig of the cold beer, “Ahh, that’s good.” He looked at the bottle and then back at Henry. “Lilacs signify first love and ivy signifies fidelity,” he explained, ending with a shit-eating grin.

“Well I’m not your first love,” Henry countered, giving him a hard time.

Looking at him with a hard stare, Quinn pointed the neck of his beer bottle at Henry, “You’re wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Henry laughed. “You loved the dude before me.”

“No.” Quinn shook his head. “It was nothing like this. This is a whole new level of everything. I had no idea what love was.”

Putting down the knife, Henry quickly got serious. “And you do now?”

“God, you’re a dick,” Quinn laughed. “You know I do now.”

Smiling, “I love giving you a hard time.”

“I love when you give me a hard time.”

“I kinda like it myself.” Henry’s smile was wolfish.

“What a monster I’ve created. You’re like a little addict.” Quinn took another swig of his beer.

Henry shook his head, “No, I’m a big addict. I’m totally addicted and there ain’t no rehab for this.”

“Oh yeah?” Quinn spurred him on.

“I’m addicted to your smile. I’m addicted to your laugh. I’m addicted to the way you tangle your legs with mine when we sleep. I’m addicted to fucking you. I’m addicted to you fucking me. I’m even addicted to falling asleep in front of the TV on the couch with you.”

“Sounds like you might love me,” Quinn’s piercing eyes were smoldering.

“Sounds like I might.” As Henry bent down to take in the fragrant scent of the lilacs, the perfect gift of first love from his first love, he never once took his eyes off Quinn’s.