Former undercover cop Steven Pershing has officially fallen for Conrad Stalton. They live in the same motel room, sleep in the same bed, share a life ... and yet Steven can't quite figure it all out. When an emergency jolts Steven out of himself, he has to take charge and make some hard choices.
This story appears in the author's print collection, Rough Cut.
Steven left the motel, feeling antsy. He got their dinners to go and decided against making the ten-minute drive to a drugstore. They still had the decongestant from three weeks before when Conrad had come down with something. And plenty of aspirin.
He’ll be fine, just a bug. His cold is back, that’s all.
When he got back, Conrad took two bites of the Cuban sandwiches. The pungent scent of onion and spiced mayonnaise filled the room. Steven pushed it a little but Conrad pulled away with a sharp, “leave me alone” and that was all he needed to hear. Steven went back to TV mode, legs stretched out on top of the covers. Eventually, Conrad turned towards him and wrapped one big hand over Steven’s thighs, his face nuzzled against Steven’s hips. He smiled, stroked Conrad’s bare scalp and placed a quick kiss on his temple.
The late news came on and Steven woke from his doze. Conrad slept on, mouth open on the pillow. He always looked so young when he slept. Steven was a little tickled that no one else got to see Conrad so innocent-looking. He traced one finger over Conrad’s ear.
I love you, man. It scares me sometimes.
He’d never said it to Conrad, only to himself.
He hit the bathroom, undressed and spooned against Conrad. He had to pull back; his cock was half-hard, and he felt frustrated and horny.
“Too hot,” Conrad said and pushed him away.
Steven kissed his ear, then settled on his back with a sigh.
