Page 16 of Nights Without Night
“He’s okay,” I say. There’s a pause.
“You fucked him, didn’t you?” Jack says. I turn to look at her, mouth open in surprise.
“How…” I say. She snorts.
“Congrats.” She lifts her beer, but I don’t move to meet her. She lowers it slowly. “Oh, fuck. You’ve done something stupid, haven’t you?”
I want to protest, but… “It’s casual. We’re just…you know. It’s casual,” I try. There’s a beat of silence.
“So…You’re having a casual relationship with the childhood friend you’ve been in love with since forever and that’s currently trying to adjust to civilian life after doing, what, five tours?”
“Eight, not counting the two years of Special Ops training. Those tours are shorter,” I say.
“Fuck, eight tours? Jesus. Well, Iván, that all sounds…fucking stupid.”
“Fuck!” I groan, thumping the back of my head against the couch.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” she asks, and isn’t that the question of the century?
“I…It’s just…When he was away, I tried not to think about it. Where he was, what he was doing. But there were these moments, sometimes. Maybe it was too long a gap between calls, or it was late at night or, just…and I’d get this feeling, this eerie certainty that he was dead, or was injured. That he could be dead, and I justwouldn’t know. I’d think, what was the last thing I said to him? Even though he doesn’t know I’m in love with him, does he know how much I love him?
“He would redeploy and redeploy and there came a point where I thought he’d never stop. I thought he’d be a career military man, going up the ranks, or that he would keep going until he died. But, now, he’shere. He’s here to stay. I still can’t believe it. I have this awful fear he’ll change his mind and redeploy, or go private, or...But, for now, he’s here. And he just…offered. I’m so used to thinking of Isa as a moment from slipping away that I just…I can’t…I’m not saying it’s a good idea, but I’ll regret it more if I say no.” It all just comes out of me.
Silence falls for a moment. “Damn,” Jack says eventually. “Okay. I get you.” Her voice is soft, a balm. A part of me had needed some kind of permission, or at least the validation of saying, yes, what I’m doing is stupid but, fuck, can you blame me?
The conversation veers off, but my own words linger inside me, truths given shape and weight.
I’ll make the most of this for as long as it lasts.
**********
It’s been four days since the hand job. In the beginning, I’m tense and watchful, wanting but not wanting something to happen. Between school and work though, the apprehension gets buried. It’s as if that is exactly what he’s waiting for—a relaxation of defences in order to strike.
It’s late and the TV is on, some nonsensical program neither one of us is really watching. I step between the couch and the coffee table, bending to place the drinks I just grabbed from the kitchen on the table, when the palm of his hand brushes slightly against my clothed thigh. I look at him and see the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
I’m in trouble.
I let go of the drinks and his hand goes to the back of my thigh, pulling me closer. I stumble slightly until I’m right in front of him, looking down at his face as his wide hands hold my hips.
We just look at each other for a moment before he presses his thumbs against my hip bones. He pulls me onto his lap and I just go, a collapsing house of cards. I wish he’d stop looking at me with those piercing eyes, but something stops me from kissing him first. Some old, worn instinct of repression.
He leans in, but not toward my mouth. Instead, his lips land on the vulnerable skin of my neck. He kisses me softly, one firefly kiss after another. I close my eyes, but the tenderness is unbearable. It cuts through my inaction and I pull away only to yank him into a real kiss.
Isadoro goes with it, but I’m already thrown off balance. I don’t want to think about anything, but my head is too full of him. His hands run across my back and I slide further forward, our crotches pressing. I grind against him, and one of his hands trail down to knead my ass.
“Oh fuck,” I pant before he pulls me into the next kiss.
It shouldn’t be possible, to be this desperate this quickly for someone. To want them this much.
I need more. This time, I’m the one who pulls out our dicks, but I ignore mine, wrapping my hand around his thick cock. I know exactly what I want.
I go to slide off and get on my knees, but he stops me. I look at him, raising my eyebrows.
“Seriously? You’re turning down a blowjob?” I ask. Isadoro huffs a laugh.
“Just—wait a second,” he says, pulling me close again. He wraps me in his arms, drawing me into another slow, slow kiss, but I can’t help it. My hands reach between us and he stops me again, grabbing my wrists and then pinning them to the small of my back in one of his large hands.
“Fuck, fuck,” I say, grinding forward, and he doesn’t halt the movement, his other hand in my hair as he kisses me deeply.
