Wild Card - 2. The Barrier Method

Wild Card – Chapter 2 – The Barrier Method

A big black Tacoma with a “Puro Pinché Beavers” bumper sticker on the back sat in what had become its usual spot in Indie’s driveway, and for some reason that pissed me off.

That’s it? I just go home and he’s there? No going out to find him. No long searches. No lying awake at night worrying if he’s all right? Nothing. Cory’s just here. That’s really it?

Anger surfaced, boiling up through what should have been relief. He should have called me; told me something was up instead of making me come find him. If he was going to pull this shit, I would have had him meet me in Pax River. Mom and Dad would’ve loved to see him again; I fucking swear they love Cory more than they love me. We could have both enjoyed Christmas dinner with my family instead of eating the cold fucking leftovers I had to smell the entire agonizing fucking drive from my parents. We could be snuggled up under blankets right now, drinking beers and enjoying multiple rounds of Christmas desserts, while watching movies with my family. Instead, I was freezing my ass off in the middle of the night just because he wanted to come back early.

What the fuck was he thinking?

I pulled up next to his truck and shut off the car, thankful for the motion security lights above the seldom-used garage as the light at the front door hadn’t been turned on. Cory had this blue tarp tied down over the bed, and the cab was haphazardly packed almost to the roof, which was strange. I know Cory had packed little more than his laptop and a duffle bag of clothes and toiletries for his trip home. He still had clothing, and half his shoe collection besides, back in Texas, so he didn’t need much. I stole a quick peek under the tarp. I could make out the shapes of boxes, storage bins, and trash bags. Maybe he brought over more of his stuff since he had moved out of the dorms. Not that he’d said anything about that the last time we talked. I don’t even remember him talking about anything of consequence then.

I shrugged off the thought and walked up the path to the front door, which had not been locked. I wondered at the unlocked door and the completely dark and quiet house, as well as the random crap I almost tripped over in the foyer. His bookbag and shoes lay a little way from the front, as if he’d just dropped shit wherever he happened to shed it. A few feet away lay his coat. Perhaps he was one of those closet slobs who would fake neatness only when others were around to complain. As such, I fully expected a kitchen full of dirty dishes, but only one half-empty glass of water rested on the counter. Of course, I could follow the trail of clothes in our bedroom like bread crumbs. Pajamas and a hoodie from the door to the bed. Jeans, shirt, socks and underwear from the bed to the bathroom.

A soft whimper drew my attention to the mound in the center of the bed, topped by a familiar head of soft blond hair—a little longer on top than when he came to Virginia, but still short on the sides—that poked out of the blankets.

Cory.

My jaw clenched as I started getting more pissed off. The little fucker had come home and taken a shower, then mucked around in his pajamas before going back to bed. And, in all that time he didn’t think to call or text me so I’d know he was safe. I’d worried myself sick, made my family worry, Lord knows how his friends were taking this, and his ass had been here the whole time sleeping as if nothing was wrong. I crossed my arms at the side of the bed, watching him doze without a care in the goddamn world.

“Cory,” I growled. “Wake up.” I plopped down on the bed and jostled his shoulder when he didn’t respond.

His blue eyes blinked groggily as he looked up at me. “’Rain?” he asked. His voice did this miserable crack in the middle of my name, and he reached a hand out from under the covers. The man scooting closer and wrapping his arms around my waist bore little resemblance to the jovial guy I was used to. Dark circles puffed up under his eyes like he’d been sleeping worse than I had these last few days.

My anger cooled as if doused with ice water.

“What happened?” I asked. “Why are you here?”

Cory didn’t answer. I lay down with him, and he buried his face in my chest. My arms came around his shoulders, and I felt him shake. A growing spot of dampness where his face pressed into my shirt was my only warning before the shaking became small hiccoughs. I didn’t have enough time to brace myself before that fell into muffled sobs.

I ran through every comforting gesture I could remember—rub his back, comb your fingers through his hair, rock him gently, kiss the top of his head, apologize (even if you have no fucking clue what you’re apologizing for), call him pet names, promise him that you’ll make everything okay, tell him that you’re here and not going anywhere—but if anything, trying to soothe him made the crying worse. His tears kept coming, soaking through my shirt so that it clung to me.

Fuck.

“Hush, gatito,” I whispered, tightening my arms around his shoulders, my mind reeling as his hands clenched the back of my t-shirt. “I got you.”

I had him alright, but I had no idea what to do with him.

~*~*~*~

I wondered what Juaquin would make of me giving my boyfriend the shirt off my back so he could clean his face with it. My shirt had enough of his tears and snot all over it, so letting Cory blow his nose with it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch.

Not exactly a Dutch oven, but it had to mean something, right?

Is there a such thing as the “crying barrier” or the “non-sexual body fluids barrier”? Would not freaking out over being drenched in my boyfriend’s snot mean the same thing? I resisted the urge to call my brother and ask his advice again. My roommates and I had polished off most of the beer before we left for the break, and who knows how much alcohol Juaquin had on hand after our extended family left for the night.

While Cory put himself back to rights, I shot off a few texts to all involved parties—I found him. He’s okay. Details when I can. I got texts from both of his best friends, his two former suitemates, and our current fourth roommate reminding me that Cory liked to starve himself when he got depressed. I set about getting something small for Cory to eat, a protein shake and some saltine crackers. Maybe some of the fruit salad Mom had packed for us. Easy things in case his stomach was upset.

Cory was sitting up in bed once I got back to the room. He’d only been wearing his trunks when I came home, so I finished stripping off my clothes and joined him in bed once I got down to my boxer briefs. I scooted behind him so he rested between my legs and pulled him back against my chest. He adjusted the blankets around us.

“Drink,” I told him, handing over the protein shake.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, pushing my hand away. “And my stomach kinda hurts.”

“Not a request, gatito,” I replied. He glared over his shoulder, and I raised my eyebrow, daring him to argue. Cory took the bottle with a small huff and sipped the contents. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast.”

I rested my head against the headboard. “How long ago was that?”

“Day before yesterday,” he mumbled weakly.

“Fucking hell, Cory!” I said. “No fucking wonder you feel sick. Goddammit!” I grabbed the bag of crackers and shoved it at him. “Hurry up and drink that, then eat some of these. Later, I’ll find a Sprite or ginger ale somewhere to help with your stomach.” His shoulders dropped and he sniffled a little. I cursed. The last thing I wanted to do was set him off, but he was rubbing at his eyes again. Somehow he knew how to make everything better when I felt down, but I only seemed to be good at fucking it up when he needed me to return the favor.

I stroked my hands over his belly while he nibbled on saltines.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

I kissed the back of his shoulder. “Ready to tell me why you’re not in Texas?”

“Yeah,” he said, but was silent for a while. His body was still warm from being under the blankets. Getting back in bed felt heavenly after running around the cold as fuck house in just my jeans and socks. I don’t think Cory had touched the thermostat from where Indie had set it at before he left for break. I adjusted the temperature on my way back, and the heat had kicked on, but it was still fucking freezing. Cory’s warmth spread over me, and I nuzzled closer as he swallowed the rest of the cracker and washed it down with the protein shake. “I got kicked out.”

“Of your house?”

He nodded. “I came out to my parents.”

“Didn’t know you were planning that.”

“I told you about it a couple nights ago, but you were too tired.”

“I’m sorry, acho.”

“It’s okay. Your family had you running around all day, so I understood. Thought I’d surprise you with it later anyway,” he said, a rueful note coloring his words. “But, yeah, I told them about you and me, and my dad flipped. We got in this huge fight. I threatened to kick his ass. He told me to leave, so I came here.”

“Fuck. I’m so fucking sorry, Cory.”

“It’s okay,” he said again. “I’ll be alright.” He squeezed my hand. “Why aren’t you in Maryland?”

“I was freaking out because I couldn’t get ahold of you for two days, so my parents sent me here in case you came back.”

His eyes watered up. “I fucking ruined your Christmas, didn’t I?” he said.

I pulled him back against my chest. “Not really. Could have called me though.”

“Phone died, couldn’t find the charger.”

“Welp, we got tons of replacements in the house.” I nudged the arm holding the crackers, so he’d keep eating them. Cory had finished the shake, but I wasn’t satisfied yet. “Where is it anyway?”

“I dunno.” Cory shrugged. “In the truck still? Haven’t been keeping track of it. Parents probably cut off service anyway.”

“We’ll charge it just in case,” I said. “Same story with your laptop? An email woulda worked.”

“Haven’t seen it since I packed. Might be in the foyer, but I think I forgot to turn it off. If the battery isn’t dead, it might’ve fried from being in my backpack for two days.”

“Didn’t even pull it out at the hotel?”

“What hotel?”

“When you stopped for the night on your drive over.”

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

The urge to strangle him rose up once more, I took a deep breath and counted to ten lest I gave into it. “You’re killing me, acho. You could have been in an accident.”

“I got here just fine.”

“That’s not the point. God, it wasn’t bad enough that I had to worry about not finding you.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Next time, alright.” I leaned back, and nudged his arm again when he stopped eating.

“Not going to be a next time,” he said. “No reason to go back to Texas.”

“But, it won’t be the last time you ever do a long road trip.”

“I guess.”

“So, you’ve been home since yesterday evening—”

“Afternoon.”

“Yesterday afternoon,” I amended. “With no phone and no computer. What have you been doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“The whole time?”

“I got up for a little while, thought I’d try to unpack the truck,” he said. “Got as far as unlocking the door before I decided to just go back to bed.”

I sighed. His friends had warned me about him staying in bed, too. “You slept for a day and a half.”

“Don’t have to think about things when you’re asleep.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” I said. “Any idea what you’re going to do now?”

“Continue to not think about things.” He set aside the package of crackers and took a few sips from the glass of water I brought with me.

“Cory, you can’t igno—”

“Please, ‘Rain,” he said, turning around in my arms. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“I’ll let you borrow my phone so you can call Preston and Keenan. They’re just as worried about you.”

“No.”

“But, what about your brothers? Keenan said they had no idea where you were either.”

“No,” he said more firmly. “It probably won’t matter once they find out why I’m not there, and that’ll happen with or without me calling them.”

“Still…”

“Just…” He swallowed hard and nuzzled his face into my neck. “Just let me forget about it for a little while longer.”

“Cory…”

I felt his lips flutter against my skin, his hand skimming down my stomach to rest on my mostly soft dick. Before I realized his intent, my body responded to his touch. I’d like to think that I left behind those days when just a stiff breeze across the front of my jeans could give me a boner, but my dick fucking jumped at his invitation with all the eagerness of a pubescent teenager hitting second base for the first time.

“Please, ‘Rain,” he repeated softly. His lips and tongue teased my neck, working up to my mouth. “Help me forget.”

Cory’s mouth swallowed my groan, and when his hand began rubbing on my package, it became too hard to forget that it had been almost a week since I had last touched him. My cock pulled rank, demanding that I give in to Cory’s advances, and I rolled him over and yanked off his underwear. His smooth white skin, stretched over muscles honed by the intense physical regimens needed to play college football, seemed almost hairless unless I looked at his body in the right light. The small patches under his arms and trailing from his belly button down to the trimmed curls at the base of his dick proved the only exception (I could never decided if his pubic hair was dark blonde or light brown). Odd that I had mostly ignored the fact that we were practically naked as long as I had, but seeing him now, all laid out for the taking, only a handful of days since he’d wound me up during a Skype call, made me throb all over.

My tongue took control of the kiss as his hands slid down my back and under the waistband of my boxer briefs. He gripped my ass in his large hands and ground me down into his uplifted hips. I somehow managed to shimmy out of my underwear in all that grinding, freeing my cock to slick up his belly as much as he slicked up mine. I broke away from his lips, trailing over his jaw.

“This all you want?” I asked. I pulled his earlobe between my teeth and enjoyed him panting in my ear while I nibbled and licked.

“No.”

However, he’d yet to stop writhing under me, and continued to thrust his cock against me, even as I moved down his body. When I stopped to tease his flat, pink nipples until they reddened, he rubbed himself against my chest and abs. I dropped lower to suck his dick into my mouth, and pretty much got face fucked. He continued to fuck himself, this time using my fingers and tongue in his ass and my hand on his dick, as I progressed from there. However, the desperate whines and whimpers kept me more than willing to give him whatever he asked for.

Eventually, those hands grasping the back of my head began tugging at my shoulders. I noted how his tone changed, from insistent to pleading to frustrated, as I took the scenic route, tracing every ridge and crease of his flesh, on my way back to his lips. My fingers maintained their position against his prostate, which kept him on edge without being enough to bring him off (the source of his frustration, I’d imagine).

I placed a soft bite on his neck, and a quick kiss on his lips, before I pulled back, keeping my fingers right where I had them (with how much he’d been squirming and writhing on my hand, I couldn’t stop playing with him even if I wanted to). We’d put the lube back in the nightstand drawer before we left for the break, so I fumbled a little to retrieve it. Cory propped himself up on his elbows and watched me smear the viscous liquid first on my cock, then on my fingers to work it into him. Our eyes met and held contact, so I only saw him shifting around so he could slowly stroke his dick. I just barely felt his legs tremble.

Cory’s breathing sped up when I slid my fingers free and braced myself on one hand above him. I lined up my dick and pressed against him. His legs hooked over my hips, which I took for his silent agreement and pushed in. His head fell back on a long, low moan while I kissed over his neck and shoulders.

“You okay, acho?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said, his voice blowing past my ear in small gasps. “Please, don’t stop.”

I pushed forward again, burying my dick deeper. I hadn’t understood how much I missed him, and how much I missed his body, until I gradually sank into him. I pulled back slowly and thrust forward just as slowly. His full-body quiver was all the encouragement to do it again, and something about the way he wrapped himself around me kept me going, getting off on all the noises I was fucking out of him on those long, slow strokes.

His lips sought mine, tongue thrusting against mine, moving in tantalizing slowness. I pulled my hips back and hit him hard, and he broke the kiss off on a sharp cry as his back arched off the bed.

“Fuck!”

I gave a half-chuckle. “Good?”

“Yes,” he panted. I slammed into him again. “God.” His fingers dug into my back. “Please, don’t stop.”

I hooked my hands under his shoulders and pulled him into me. “Holy fuck,” I whispered in his ear. “I missed you, gatito.” Instead of answering, Cory bit my neck, and I felt his hand reach between us. His knuckles brushed against my stomach as he slid his hand along his shaft. His ass tightened around my dick. “I’m not gonna last if we keep this up.”

Cory’s hand sped up and his panting moans came faster. He called my name, begged for more, and any sense of rhythm or control that I could boast of fled. I felt the initial stages of his orgasm build until my own climax took over and everything zeroed in on the sensations tearing through me as my cock unloaded as deep in his ass as I could grind it. Collapsing on top of him, I felt the pool of warm cum squish between our bodies. As our breathing returned to normal, I trailed little kisses on his neck and shoulder, tasting the cum that had volleyed up there. We stayed connected until my dick softened enough to fall out of him on its own, but Cory tightened his arms around me when I made to roll off him. His whispered words caressed places that couldn’t be reached by hands alone.

“I missed you, too, mí lobo.”

~*~*~*~

“So, he ran,” Preston said. Keenan nodded. I’d just finished filling them in on Cory’s last few days. Figured I would call them since Cory absolutely refused to do so himself, which led to our three-way Skype call.

“I wouldn’t say ‘ran’,” I said. “His parents kicked him out, it’s not like he could’ve stayed in Texas.”

“Yeah, he could’ve,” Keenan answered, shoving his thick hair out of his dark brown eyes. I’d seen pictures of the guy before, but damn. Much hotter than any nerdy computer programmer had a right to be. “Had lots of places that he coulda gone—and not just in Cibolo. Cory knows my parents would’ve taken him in. He totally ran.”

“Sounds like he’s still running,” Preston added. “Fucking let his phone die on purpose, and the only reason he’s talking to you is because you’re there.”

“He refuses to talk a lot about what happened,” I admitted, allowing myself to feel some of the frustration I sensed in their words. “Got him to eat, though,” I said, leaving out that he ended up throwing some of it up later. Cory and I had cuddled for a bit after we had…I dunno, the words fucked and had sex didn’t seem to fit, but made love got stuck in the whole jumbled mess the act left in my head, and I worried that I’d blindly crossed another barrier with Cory…

But, yeah, we did something and snuggled, then I put together a plate for each of us since he seemed to be in the mood to eat. We had camped out on the bed for a late-night dinner, then talked about random crap over dessert. He had even told me about his adventures in buying sex toys. I had thought that letting him forget about all that had gone down with his family had been a good idea.

However, less than half-an-hour after lying back down to go to sleep, he had jumped up and ran off to the bathroom. The sounds of him retching made it difficult for me to get back to sleep, even after he’d cleaned up and come back to bed. Luckily, Cory had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, otherwise I wouldn’t have attempted this call. Although, I still called from the living room, and kept my headset on, so I wouldn’t wake him up.

“At least I know what to tell his brothers,” Keenan said. “Cory’s parents still refuse to tell them what happened. His mom kept telling them ‘not while we have company’ and begged them to act like nothing’s wrong until the holiday was over.”

“And they just went along with it?” Preston demanded.

“That’s bullshit,” I said. “How the fuck can you just fake that kind of shit?”

“I agree.” Keenan shrugged. “But, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s just how they are.”

“Makes sense then that Cory wouldn’t want you to tell them what happened,” I said.

“What?” Keenan sputtered.

“Yeah,” I said. “I told him that I texted you guys so you’d know he was safe, and he asked me to tell you not to say anything to his brothers.”

Preston rolled his eyes. “Still running. I swear, I need to come back so I can kick his butt back in line.”

“No,” I said. “I got it covered. Besides, he feels guilty enough about me being here.”

“I don’t like it,” Preston said.

“Neither do I,” Keenan said. “I don’t like keeping this kind of thing from his brothers; they deserve to know.”

“But, forcing Cory to confront this doesn’t feel right, either,” I replied. “Maybe he just needs to run for a little while.”

“I don’t know about that,” Preston said.

“If he’s not ready,” I said, “then he’s not ready.”

“God, I feel like fucking shit, now,” Keenan said. “Been pushing him to tell his family for years, and kept getting on his ass because he kept putting it off.”

“I encouraged him, too,” Preston said.

“Only because I did,” he argued, his eyes becoming watery. “I should’ve known better. If I hadn’t—”

“It would’ve happened eventually,” I said. My throat tightened. “But, he’s got us, so he’ll be all right.”

“Yeah,” Preston nodded. He wiped his eyes, the only one of us not in the least bit shy about letting other guys see him cry. “Cory has us three. And everyone else besides.”

I nodded in agreement, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who worried about that being enough.

~*~*~*~