Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
TUCKER
The whispered melody of my whistling echoes off the slate walls, drowning the dark bathroom in a fitting eeriness.
This brings me comfort. Can’t say it does the same for Forest who showers on the other side of the wall, washing away all the mud, scrubbing clean all the pricks in his skin from running through the wilderness, and washing away the evil that has befallen us all from his soul.
The water turns off, the pipes in the walls coming to a screeching halt.
I take a peek around the corner and watch as Forest dries himself with an old, tattered towel.
He starts with his head, toweling quickly through buzzed blonde hair, and then his back.
His small—but fuckable as always—ass jiggles.
It’s the only part of his body that is unburdened by ink.
The last pure part of him that exists and even then, it’ll be tainted soon.
He turns around, the towel dangling in one hand, and his pierced cock dangling between his legs. His eyes find mine. Watching. Waiting.
He brushes past me. “Take a picture next time.”
“That was a long shower,” I say, watching him tuck the towel around his waist.
“Yeah, well it takes some time to scrub the scent of a burning body from your skin.” He rounds the corner, stands in front of the mirror, and wipes the fog away with one hand. “I’m not sure the stench ever really goes away.”
I lean against the wall beside him. “Bash believes you to be a suspect.”
“Bash has never been the smartest one.” He rolls his eyes and squeezes a dollop of chemical-filled toothpaste onto his toothbrush. “That’s why he’s the warden. He’s uniquely unqualified for anything else.”
“You have to admit the timing of your arrival is curious.” I shift to stand behind him, watching his eyes in the mirror as they rise to mine. “You don’t look too upset about what you saw. Any reasonable man would find that suspect.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” he mumbles around the toothbrush in his mouth.
He ducks down and spits into the sink. “I didn’t even remember Zeva had a daughter.
And if you don’t think I’m upset, it’s because you’re not looking hard enough.
” He returns to the same position, looking at me in the mirror.
“See what I see, remember? I see a fucked up situation that isn’t going to get any better while everyone is living in Bizzaro World. ”
“Someone is after your family and the answers lie in the things you’ve forgotten. How did you know they were in trouble?”
“I told you,” he seethes. “The letter I got was just like the letter Zeva sent to your mother all those years ago.”
“So you think Zeva is the killer?”
“You’re irritating, you’re stubborn, but you’re not that stupid.
Zeva didn’t kill her own daughter.” He tosses the toothbrush onto the counter and pushes past me.
“Someone knows what we did and we can’t keep brushing it under the rug.
We have to talk about it so we can figure out who the fuck it is. ”
I follow behind him, exiting into the den. The moon hangs high through the arched windows above, casting a soft glow upon the couches. “Please, tell me again about how we killed my mother. These delusions are starting to grate on me.”
“You were there!” he screams, turning in a quick circle. “We were all there. We did so much stupid shit back then because we were animals. Chaos wasn’t a theory. It was a lifestyle. We destroyed everything we touched. What happened to your mother started as a prank that went way too far.”
His towel falls to the floor, pooling around his feet.
That cock.
Even with the ring of steel pierced through the head, it’s as magnificent as it always was.
He bends over to grab the towel and wraps it back around his waist, blocking my view. “You’re looking at me like I’m a ghost.”
“Yeah…” I whisper. “I guess I’m just trying to process the madness.”
He jabs a finger against my bare chest. “You’re gaslighting the shit out of me.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I assure you I’m not doing it. Tomorrow, I’m calling a quorum, and everyone who was in that vision slash memory of yours will be called to testify before the Wilds. Zeva, Bash, Darius, and yourself.”
“And Jediah and Miles,” he says, landing a hand on the wooden railing of the stairs.
I follow him up, watching the way the cotton towel bends around his ass with every step he takes. Think about reaching forward, ripping it off, and taking him right here on the stairs.
“I’ll bet you it’s one of the brothers,” he says with a little too much conviction for being entirely too wrong. His hypothesis rips my attention from his ass.
Coincidences are believed by those without faith.
There’s no such thing. Those two men were hellbent on getting as far from this place as possible, and I have to question now, why?
Did they receive a warning of a similar nature to what Forest did?
If I were a more forgiving man, maybe they would be alive right now, and then I could really get to the bottom of this.
At the top of the stairs, Forest veers right to his old room. I stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “It might be difficult to wrangle the brothers into this little shindig because they ran away two nights ago.”
“So much for me being the only one who’s ever left,” he says, looking over his shoulder as he drops his towel to the ground.
They didn’t make it very far.
“They didn’t—” I begin to repeat the same words out loud, but I’m distracted by Forest dropping his towel.
Again.
At this point, he’s fucking teasing me. He grabs a pair of white briefs from the bag on his bed, bends over, and climbs into them. My cock stretches, rubbing the worn denim. I imagine my hands on his hips, my body pressed against his.
It’d be so easy to take him here, just like this. Push him against the wall and fuck him until he remembers who we used to be. Until he remembers how much I fucking loved him. How much he loved me. How much I still do… and how much he doesn’t.
He turns to me with a flat expression, the outline of the head of his soft cock visible through the tight white fabric. “You can go now.”
I stand up straight in the doorway. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?” He scoffs with an exhausted shake of his head. “I’ve had enough adventures for the day.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight. There’s a maniac on the loose slicing and dicing people.” I exhale as I take a step towards him. “You’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight.”
His bottom lip drops open, exposing that perfect smile I remember all too well.
A smile that was always as rare as the sighting of a bog turtle in the wilderness.
“I will not be doing such a thing. That’s ridiculous.
” He spins a finger in a circle, gesturing for me to turn around. “Shut the door on your way out.”
“You will,” I say, taking another step towards him.
“Abso-fucking-lutely—”
Not.
I bend over at the hip and scoop him over my shoulder, my right hand holding onto his firm ass. I might give him a playful squeeze as I carry him out of his bedroom down the hall. Might. Or maybe I’m just readjusting my grip.
Who knows…
Forest’s mouth is a work of art. Plump, wet lips that part open with every thrust of my cock inside him.
It’s all too easy to get lost in the dark forest of his eyes from this vantage point, holding myself up by my arms. His head is centered on a white pillow, the ends puffing up around the sides of his head.
He claws at my back, and the way he moans my name breaks something inside me.
And then he tightens around me, his chest cramping as he shoots his load onto his tainted stomach. He lets out a sharp howl, crying at the moon.
And then I’m back to reality, where we lie side by side with our arms folded over the ivory blankets, staring aimlessly at the ceiling fan above us that hasn’t worked in years.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for almost ten years and I’m literally leaking under the covers, dreaming about what it’d feel like to be inside him again.
How I’ll feel when I’m inside him again.
In my wildest fantasies, Forest’s fingernails are like razors on my back, tearing at the flesh. We used to fuck like the animals we were born to be.
I peek at him out of the corner of my eye to find him doing the same to me.
“I swear to God,” he groans, “if you tell me you fucked my father in this bed, I’ll jump out the window.”
“I told you, it’s not like that.” I do a little dance with my elbows and clasp my hands together. “I’m a man of virtue. There’s only one man I’d ever stick my dick in.”
“Who?”
He sounds like an owl. I cast him another quick glance out of the corner of my eyes.
“Tucker, we never fucked,” he says with the certainty of a known liar. ”We never kissed.”
“Is it such an impossible thing to believe? Your head is so messed up, like something in you is broken.”
“Yeah…” he huffs, and then quieter, “This place broke me.”
That’s his way of saying goodnight as he turns onto his side, shifting one hand under his pillow.
Always on my mind, even when that face is out of sight.
I slip a hand under the covers and grip my throbbing cock.
Don’t stroke it, though. Over the years, I’ve learned to tame it the same way you would a racing heart.
I just hold it, letting it know it’s not alone.
Letting my cock know his feelings are valid.
This isn’t like every other time, though.
The cocktease cockhumper is in my fucking bed.
Ten fucking years.
I turn onto my side, scoot closer to him, and wrap an arm around his chest. His heart beats slowly, a continued side effect of the fogroot. Not slow enough to die, but slow enough to fall asleep fast.
Alas, my back will have to be torn the fuck up another night.
I bow my head against the nape of his neck and stay there for a moment more, waiting for him to cock his head over his shoulder and tell me to get back to my side of the bed. Those words get lost somewhere in a quiet slumber as he drifts off to sleep.
My eyes grow heavy and fold to a close.
The last thing I hear before drifting off to sleep is the rustling of the sheets.
The last thing I feel before drifting off to sleep is his body shifting against mine, his brief-clad ass docking against my raging cock.