Page 107 of Hush
[Soon. This exile won’t last long.]
As long as you show up bright-eyed and rested, you’ll be back on, right?
[Hope so. I’ll throw a fit if I’m not.]
He took another sip of his wine, and then a larger gulp.So… what are you wearing?
[Tom!]
What?
[Isn’t Villegas right there? I mean… Kris’s place isn’t huge…]
I’m saving the visual for later. ;)
[Well… in that case…]Mike sent a picture over, himself lying on his side in bed in just his tiny yellow briefs and hugging a pillow to his chest.[This is your pillow.]
Should he be aroused or melting in adoration? Both? Miles and miles of tanned skin, burnished from their weekend at the beach, and a tiny stretch of banana yellow briefs. A bulge that made his cock twitch, made his mouth water. He rubbed his thumb over the screen, over Mike’s face, his tiny smile and shining eyes.
This was who he was. A gay man. A man who adored this other man. A man who craved Mike’s touch and kiss, his texts and his handholds, and whose soul bloomed whenever Mike looked at him in exactly this way.
He sent back a heart emoji.You are perfect.
[No I’m not. I’m just crazy about you. :) ]
Inside, Villegas had turned on the TV, and CNN blared over Kris’s surround sound speakers. The anchor droned alongside dramatic music, beats signaling rising tension and breaking news. As if every hour didn’t bring a new breaking news alert.Russian troops on the move, massing near the Estonian border. The Baltic states are readying their own defenses and calling out for NATO assistance.
Tom ducked back into Kris’s apartment. Images played on screen, shaky cell phone cameras from Estonian border towns looking across the river to Russia. Tanks and troops massed on the Russian side of the river, next to brand new helicopter pads cleared out and marked with spray paint in the packed dirt. Frantic Estonian flew in the background, mixed with gasps and curses. The images repeated, from Narva to Karoli to Kuningakula, and down to Saatse, Koidula, and Maasi. A map appeared, the entire border of Estonia—a NATO country—covered by Russian tanks and troops, poised and ready to invade.
Gunshots snapped and cracked over the TV and the cell phone cameras. The Russians were practicing on their side of the border, live-fire exercises yards away from NATO land. Intimidation at its finest.
Villegas sat on the edge of Kris’s couch, his wide eyes glued to the screen, jaw hanging open.
The anchor popped back on screen, reading a just-released statement from the White House. “This sudden act of aggression by the Russian military and President Dimitry Vasiliev is exactly what the world does not need at this moment. We need calm, forthright peacefulness, and a willingness to compromise and come to the table with open arms. This aggression will be met with the full force of NATO, should one Russian toe or bullet cross the Estonian border.”
“Well,” the anchor said, his eyes wide as he turned to his colleague at the CNN news table. “Does this sound like we’re headed to war?”
“Most definitely. Most definitely. How this plays into the DC Sniper trial, which is set to begin very soon, is anybody’s guess.”
They stayed up to watch CNN for the next three hours, until Tom’s queasy stomach forced him to turn away. He and Mike texted throughout, Mike’s tension throttling sky high with each new revelation on the news. His texts were shorter, with more exclamation points. Villegas seemed transfixed by the news, and he never once asked who Tom was texting.
Tom caught him side-eying the phone a few times, though, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.
He brushed his teeth and grunted goodnight to Villegas, and then crawled into bed. Villegas turned down the TV. He was sleeping on the couch. Etta Mae grumbled about losing her spot, but Tom lifted her onto Kris’s bed and she happily stole one of the many pillows for herself.
In bed now. You?
[Same. It’s too big and empty without you in it, though.]
Etta Mae is not as good a cuddler as you are. :)
[I’m going to dream about you tonight. :) ]
Oh yeah? :)
[Yep. I’ve dreamed about you every night, actually.]
And there went his heart, again. His toes curled in the sheets as he beamed. He wanted to say something ridiculous, something like ‘when this trial is over, let’s run away to Europe for three weeks,’ or ‘move in with me, I never want to be without you,’ or even, ‘I’m falling in love with you.’
