Chapter 49
Horatio
When Horatio was fifteen, two awesome things happened: he smoked his first joint and got his first handie. The joint had come from the bottom of his sister’s purse, and the handjob from his best friend Joe, who, at first, hadn’t cared if Horatio reciprocated or not.
“I just want to jack that big fucker to see how much jizz comes out,” Joe had said.
He stretched out next to him on the twin bed, making sure to leave plenty of air space between them because—according to Joe—if their bodies touched, it would be too gay.
“And I’m not gay.” He wrapped his fingers around Horatio’s dick.
“Just curious.” The tip of his tongue peeking from between tight lips, Joe tugged with a firm grip.
Horatio leaned back on his elbows, eager to watch.
Excited not only by the sight, but the touch of a hand other than his own, he came quickly, taking Joe by surprise.
“Whoa! That shit’s going everywhere!” He appeared to be struggling with a fire hose, frantically trying to aim Horatio’s cock at the raggedy T-shirt he’d procured earlier to clean up the mess. A glob landed on Joe’s navy-blue bedspread. “Crap! Look what you did!”
“Like you’ve never jizzed your bed before.” Horatio’s body trembled in post-orgasm bliss. “If a CSI team came in here, your whole room would glow.”
“I’ve never shot a load like that.” Joe wedged the wet T-shirt under his mattress. “I didn’t think you’d ever stop spewing.”
“Just so you know, that was still really fucking gay.” Horatio was so high and giddy he could barely keep his eyes open, and that’s when Joe changed his mind about reciprocity.
“Dude.” He poked Horatio in the shoulder. “Make me come before I die from sperm overload.”
“You can’t die that way.”
“Yeah, you can. That’s how Houdini died. Jizz backed up into his spine and suffocated his brain cells. Truth.”
Horatio got the giggles, the kind that turned your muscles to mush. He tried to unfasten Joe’s jeans, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate, so he rolled onto his back and offered a blowjob.
“Put my dick in your mouth? Dude, that’s super gay.” Joe frantically undressed down to his sweatshirt and socks. He knelt over Horatio’s face and pushed his hard dick against Horatio’s lips. “You ever done this before?”
Eyes shut, mouth open, Horatio shook his head no before taking Joe’s entire rod into his mouth, chuckling a little more when Joe’s pubes tickled his nose.
“This is super… hella… fucking… gay.” But when Horatio sucked—a bit startled by how quickly he took to swallowing dick—Joe’s weak protests took a 180. “Being gay is hot as fuck, dude... uhn! Don’t stop!”
At the precise moment Joe’s spunk flooded his tongue, Horatio knew for sure that he didn’t care about his sexual preference.
Gay, straight, bi—who cared when you were having a good time?
Besides, Joe’s dick tasted good. Sweet and salty, with maybe just a hint of the weed they’d smoked earlier.
Weed that numbed Horatio’s brain. He wanted to open his eyes to see his friend’s body up close, but his lids wouldn’t cooperate.
Horatio was experiencing the same issue with his eyelids now, thirteen years later, as well as an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, like he’d already lived this moment today.
“Horatio?” A gentle hand brushed hair from his forehead. “Try to wake up.”
“Houdini didn’t die that way, Joe. You’re fucking nuts,” Horatio mumbled.
“Who’s Joe?”
“You are.”
“No, I’m Gunner.”
Gunner. Horatio’s lids snapped open. Instead of one Gunner, two sexy blonds smiled back at him. He wondered when Gunner got a twin brother and hoped he could talk both of them into getting naked. Or giving him a handie. “Hi there, cuties,” he slurred.
“Do you know where you are?”
“In your bed, I hope.”
Both Gunners giggled. “I wish we were in our bed and not Clairidia Castle. This place is creepy as fuck.”
That word “Clairidia”—that fucking C word—blew the haze away and made Horatio’s head throb. “I have a crankin’ migraine,” he groaned, “and I’m seeing double, not that I mind seeing two of you.” He was lying on a twin bed in a small, somber room. “Is this a hospital?”
“More of an infirmary for the castle staff.” Gunner propped him up with a pillow and held a bottle to his lips. “Drink. You’ve been unconscious for an hour.”
The water stung his throat and tasted like metal, but each sip cleared the remnants of fog from his brain. “Some lizard-faced dick shot me with a tranquilizer gun. I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Komodo’s second-in-command, Gecko, is the one who fired the dart.
I guess he came to check up on his boss, saw the destruction, and freaked out.
Komodo called Snake and said, ‘I know you were expecting to hear from your associate, but there’s been an unfortunate incident, and he is unable to speak at the moment. ’”
Horatio laughed. “You do a pretty good impersonation of him. Did he tell you that I made a toilet blow up? It was so fucking kick ass.”
“I’ll bet it was. Komodo didn’t mention specifics. Just that your voice caused chaos. I wish I was here to see that.” Gunner stroked Horatio’s hair and kissed the top of his head.
Horatio closed his eyes. “I fucking missed you. Remind me who came along?”
“Snake, Sugar, Seven, and Dagger.” Gunner cracked open another bottle of water and passed it to Horatio.
“They’re with Komodo and Gecko in the castle library, searching for blueprints of the castle or maps of the underground levels.
” He placed a stack of clothes on the bed. “Are you up for getting dressed?”
Horatio put the water aside. “I’m up for doing a lot of things.” He did his best to look sultry while unsnapping the garish orange uniform.
“Don’t tempt me.” Gunner shot him his serious look, which only stoked the fire in Horatio’s pants.
“C’mere, Cupcake. Just a kiss. One kiss, I swear.”
“No way.” Gunner tossed a shirt at him. “One kiss isn’t going to do it for me.”
“Me either.” Horatio pulled his shirt on. “I need about three days with you.”
“Three days. That’s it?” Gunner slipped off Horatio’s prison shoes.
“Three days just for kissing. Then three more just to eat your…” Horatio stood up on rubber legs.
“I feel weird.” After Gunner helped him get the rest of his clothes on, Horatio dug the bracelets out of the sneaker and tucked them into his front pocket.
“Remind me to give these to a kid named Stinger. He earned them.”
Gunner put his arms around Horatio’s neck. “Did I mention you did awesome? And I missed you… really fucking bad.”
Hugging Gunner was like taking a deep, cleansing breath. “This nightmare is almost over and….” He paused and took a breath. “Hey, um, I’m not cool with the end part of the plan. Just thinking about it makes me want to puke.”
“I’m not cool with it either, but we don’t have to worry—for now, anyway. Right after we arrived, Komodo ordered the guards to search the castle. Meridian is gone. He must have seen us coming and took off.”
“Where the hell could he go? Meridian can’t make a portal by himself.”
“But ships can, and he has an entire fleet at his disposal. It’s our fault. We didn’t close the dimension this time.”
“No. I must not have put the restraints on tight enough, but in my defense, tying people up is not in my wheelhouse.”
Gunner knit his brows so tight he could’ve made a sweater. “What?”
“Komodo didn’t tell you?” Horatio paused to think. “I guess I never told him that part.” He smiled at Gunner’s confused expression. “Have I got a story for you.”