Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dustin
“Nine four seven.” Tom clicked off the stopwatch. “Not bad.”
Dustin turned at the top of the ladder, shaking out his calves. Nine four seven wasn’t what he wanted. But it was better than ten nine nine, and it was a hell of a lot better than nothing at all. He was trying to get used to the idea that he was lucky to be doing anything at all.
It was two weeks since what Dr. Wu called The Vancouver Incident.
Dustin’s new psychologist didn’t like that name – he said it made it sound like an isolated accident Dustin could put in the rearview mirror, when actually, it was a sign that there were problems with his vehicle.
Not the knee: that was healing up and on-track for January.
It was his brain that needed attention.
A brain that rationalized its way into another country to buy dangerous pharmaceuticals needed to be examined, said his psychologist. Dustin should also examine why he’d had such a hard time admitting he needed help.
Or slowing down. Or letting go. Because it was probably all related.
And if he didn’t understand how, then going back on the roster in January might just land him right back in the same shit.
Dustin reset at the top of the ladder and ran it again. His left foot was hesitating on the third rung and he was trying not to let it bother him. He was trying to be grateful to be running a ladder at all. It was hard work: being grateful that he wasn’t as good as he wanted to be.
“Nine four five. Good.” Tom noted this on a clipboard and surveyed Dustin with his arms folded. “One more?”
“Always,” said Dustin, and went back to the top and ran it again.
“So now you put the onion in on top of that. Uh huh. Wait–” Elliot looked around. “Did we chop the peppers?”
They were standing in Dustin’s kitchen with the blender half full of cilantro and onions and Dustin wasn’t even sure what else, making something called ‘sofrito’.
Elliot had assured him this was an easy place to start because it was just blending vegetables, which was basically making a smoothie, which was all Dustin could reliably do.
He pointed to a cutting board. “Those?”
“Oh, yep.” Elliot went to get them and dumped them in the blender with everything else. He stood back and handed Dustin the lid. “Now we blend it.”
“And this is what, exactly?”
“It’s just a base. You put it in stuff. Soup or stew or whatever.”
“So I can’t eat just this?”
“I mean…you probably could. It would be terrible, but you are pretty into smoothies and you seem fine with terrible coffee.”
Elliot was giving him one of his sassy looks. Dustin put the lid on the blender and turned it on. He pulled Elliot in by the hip as it ran.
“You have to watch it, Bendito,” said Elliot, angling his face away so Dustin couldn’t kiss him. “Or it’s gonna blend too much and turn into water.”
But he was smiling, so Dustin pulled his face around and kissed him anyway. He turned him by the hips and pressed him into the counter, and Elliot sighed and slid his hands into Dustin’s back pockets as Dustin pushed in more insistently.
“Are you watching the blender?” Elliot said into his mouth.
“No, I have my eyes closed.”
Elliot’s hand found his and he used Dustin’s finger to feel around on the counter for the blender and turn it off while they kissed. Dustin pulled him away from the counter and started backing toward the bedroom.
“So we’re done with cooking,” said Elliot.
“For now.”
Elliot rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna learn, Bendito.”
They stripped each other as they went, and Dustin pushed Elliot down naked on the bed and crawled onto him as Elliot went backwards on his elbows.
Elliot was already hard and it was taking everything in Dustin’s power not to just hold him down and start sucking him off – but he wanted to kiss him.
He wanted very badly to kiss him, because it felt like a fucking miracle that he was here, in bed with him, after everything that had happened, and Dustin wanted to feel all of him.
He slid his hand to Elliot’s shaft and rubbed it with his palm, and Elliot moaned and pushed back with his hips.
Dustin wrapped his hand around him and stroked once, sliding his thumb over the head, feeling how wet he already was.
He ground into Elliot’s hip and felt Elliot match the rhythm, and he rolled all the way on top of him, pressing up on his hands above him as they rutted against each other.
He kissed him again. He sank his tongue all the way into his mouth so he could feel him there too.
He felt thirsty and happy and grateful, and he said, “Thank you,” without really meaning to.
Elliot snorted as he tipped his head back and Dustin pressed his lips down the middle of his throat. “For what?”
“Not giving up on me. You could’ve left.”
“Of course I wasn’t gonna do that: you can’t even make eggs, Viejo.”
Dustin laughed softly and kissed him under the ear, which was one of the places he’d discovered recently was one of the most fun to kiss. Elliot shivered and rocked harder against his thigh.
“I feel like I haven’t done anything for you,” said Dustin.
“What? Of course you have.”
“Not like that, though.”
Elliot paused. He pushed Dustin away by the shoulders and looked at him very seriously. “Yes. You have. And I am also grateful.”
“I guess I’ll take your word for it. But let me know if there’s anything else I can do. Because I feel hugely indebted.”
Elliot tilted his head as Dustin’s lips made their way back toward his ear. After a moment, he said, “Actually…”
Dustin paused and looked at him. Elliot had gone a little pink, but was holding his gaze firmly. “You could fuck me.”
Dustin’s heart kicked in his throat. In the two weeks since they started doing this again, they’d done plenty together in this bed – but not that. Elliot hadn’t brought it up and Dustin didn’t want to push it. He was perfectly happy with what they were doing.
He put his lips to the tip of Elliot’s chin. “Okay…”
“I’ve been practicing.”
Dustin’s eyebrow arched. “Practicing?”
“With a thing.”
Roddy was embarrassed. Which was so fucking cute. Dustin could feel how warm he was getting. “Where’ve you been doing that?” he said, kissing along his jaw.
“At the hotel.”
“Sneaky.” Dustin kissed his ear again. “I wish you’d sent me some pictures…” Elliot shivered and laughed nervously, and Dustin asked, “What color is it?”
“Oh my God!”
“Is it bigger than me?”
“Bendito! I’m not gonna tell you that.” Dustin nipped his ear. “Ow! Sure, it’s massive, okay?! It’s the biggest one you ever saw. I’m like the Grand Canyon down there now.”
“Well, that’s definitely not what I want,” said Dustin. Elliot laughed and he pushed up to look down at him. “So you wanna try again?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Please.”
The first impulse Dustin had was to ask if he was sure.
But it felt…weirdly disrespectful to do that.
Because this wasn’t a kid who needed to be taken care of and patronized when he said he wanted something.
This was the man who’d chosen to stay with him.
And Dustin respected the hell out of him for that.
He went to find what they needed.
When he came back, Roddy was on all fours in the middle of the bed with his ass in the air. Dustin laughed as he came in. “What are you doing?”
Roddy looked over his shoulder. “Assuming the position?”
“We’re not doing it like that. Lie down, donkey.”
“What if I want to do it like this?”
“Do you?”
“...Not really.”
He lay on his back and Dustin knelt between his thighs, slicked his fingers, and started to work him open.
He went slowly, enjoying every flicker on Elliot’s face; every tiny noise that came out of him, every twitch of his cock.
He wrapped one hand around it and kept going with his fingers until Roddy was mumbling and leaking all over the place. It didn’t take long.
“Wow, you really have been practicing.” Elliot rolled his eyes and Dustin kissed his knee. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s good.” He curled his fingers. “Sure you wanna do this?”
Elliot said Yes, please again. But this time it was husky and his face was flushed.
He rolled on a condom and got himself ready. Elliot’s eyes tracked everything his hands did, and when Dustin was lined up, Elliot pushed up on his elbows so he could see. Dustin looked up to ask again if he was ready, but Elliot shook his head.
“Don’t make it a thing.”
Dustin pushed in very slowly, crawling onto his forearms and pressing Elliot back with his mouth as he did. As he bottomed out, Elliot uttered a little gasp and fell back onto the bed.
“Okay?” said Dustin.
“Yes.” Elliot was trembling. “It’s good.”
Dustin pulled out and pushed in again, and Elliot made another noise, which this time was definitely a good one, and Dustin started to move.
Elliot grabbed his ass with both hands and hauled him in tighter, and fuck, this was so much better than the first time.
Why the fuck didn’t they do it like this before?
He could see him. He could feel him. Kiss him.
He did that now. “Still good?”
“Yes. For you?”
“Yes. So good.”
He kept going, feeling the way Elliot clenched around him, how tight he was. Feeling his cock, rigid and leaking, grinding against his stomach. His firm thighs gripping hard around Dustin’s hips. The way he pushed back to get him deeper.
Dustin looked down into his face and pressed his hair back with both hands. “Fuck – Roddy – you feel so good. You’re doing so fucking good.”
“Ay. Dios,” Elliot gasped. “Say that again.”
“What?”
He blushed. “That I’m…that I’m doing good.”
Dustin felt a low noise come out of his chest that he wasn’t sure he’d meant to make. He thrust into him again. “You’re doing it so fucking good. Look at you.”
Elliot whimpered. Dustin took both his hands and braced on them as he rocked into him and said it again.