Fracture

8. Dylan

CHAPTER 8

DYLAN

It’s after midnight when I decide it’s too fucking hot to sleep, and head downstairs. Stella went to bed a couple of hours ago, and Levi headed out on his bike to go god knows where. The sound of crickets singing wafts in through the open windows, and thunder rumbles gently in the distance.

I get myself a glass of water in the dark kitchen, and gulp it down. A gentle breeze starts to tug at the curtains, the gathering storm blowing in over the mountains.

I flip on the porch light and throw myself down into a deck chair. My cigarettes are still lying on the table where I'd discarded them before my run this afternoon, and I reach over to pull one out, lighting it with my silver lighter. I’m determined to quit after this pack is done. It was just a habit I picked up in prison, a way to cope and barter and have something to connect with the other guys inside over.

But I don’t want to smoke anymore. I want to be healthy and have a long, long life outside.

I suck the smoke down into my lungs, leaning my head back and blowing it out into the dark sky. Lightning flashes in the distance, followed by the gentle growl of thunder. I turn my head to look up at Stella’s window, and wonder if she's asleep or tossing and turning in this heat.

I don’t know what I’m doing. This afternoon I was sure she wanted me, that she’d take me home and let me peel her clothes off and finally, finally have her. Maybe if I was a different kind of man, I’d have tried to convince her. I’d have pushed harder. But I’m not like that. Not with her.

She loves me, and that has to be enough for now.

It doesn't do much to lessen the burgeoning need for human contact.

I take a deep drag of the cigarette and decide I just need to fucking get laid. 10 years of no physical affection, of no kissing or touching or fucking, it’s too much.

There’s a crunch of gravel, and Levi appears down the side of the house, pushing his bike. He smiles up at me, nodding as he puts his bike under shelter.

“You’re up late.”

“Not really.” I hold out the cigarette as he walks up the porch steps, shrugging off his leather jacket. “It’s only midnight.”

“Our girl asleep?”

I hate how much I love those words. If only it were true. I nod as he leans down to let me light the cigarette for him.

“I guess so. She went to bed a couple of hours ago.”

Levi sinks into a chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you know you’re bi?”

I stare at him for a moment, the cigarette smoldering in my hand. “What do you mean?”

He takes another drag, shrugging, his eyes avoiding mine. “I mean, how do you know something like that?”

“How do you know you’re straight?”

His eyes flash to mine with alarm. “What?”

“You’re straight, so how do you know that? Because you just are.” I can’t help but laugh a little. “You’re almost 30, man. Like, you gotta know this shit, right?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and I can’t believe it, but I think he’s nervous. Levi Fenton is struggling to find the words to describe what he’s feeling. And I hate myself for the sharp uptick in my heart rate, as I wonder if he’s asking me this because of me.

“Where is this coming from?” I ask him slowly.

“I never told you, but there was a guy in prison, Conrad. Remember him?”

“Sure.”

“He and I, we… I mean, I… I fucked him. Twice.”

I am not prepared for the searing jealousy that runs through me at his confession. “Oh. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I told myself that it was just frustration and curiosity, you know, it didn’t mean anything.” He runs a hand over his mouth with a sigh. “And I told myself that it didn’t count if you’re not the one taking it, like it’s somehow… less gay.”

A laugh bursts from my lips, and Levi’s dark gaze falls on my face. “Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. But- less gay? Seriously?”

Levi leans back in his chair and runs a hand over his face. “I didn’t grow up in a house where this stuff got talked about.”

I grunt out a chuckle. “Me neither. You think my catholic grandfather ever took me to Pride?”

“So how did you know ?” Levi asks, throwing his hands up.

“Because I can look at a man, and think he’s hot. Because I can look at a woman, and think she’s hot. How the fuck else do you think this works?”

“So you like having your cock sucked by a man?” Levi sounds almost incredulous.

“Sure.”

“More than with a woman?”

I stamp out my cigarette and narrow my eyes at him. “No, not more than a woman. One is not better than the other, it just comes down to the person.”

“I mean, have you… Have you done everything with a man? That you’ve done with a woman?”

“Yes.”

He gets more flustered, his cheeks turning bright crimson. “So you’ve had anal sex with a man?”

“Yes.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head. “Did you… Were you the one taking it or-”

“Both.” I interject, narrowing my eyes. “Where is this sudden interest in what I’ve done with whom coming from?”

Rolling thunder punctuates my words, and Levi’s gaze fixes on me under a flash of lightning.

“Come here.” His voice drops to a timbre I’ve never heard from him before, not when he’s spoken to me.

My heart threatens to beat straight out of my ribcage. His arms are draped over the chair, the cigarette glowing as it dangles between his fingers. His eyes darken, and he leans back further, body open and welcoming as he watches me.

“Why?”

“Come. Here.” His voice is deep and gruff, and fuck, what that command does to me.

I get to my feet, rounding the table and taking the few steps towards him. I lean down over him, placing my hands against the frame of the chair, and our mouths are only inches apart. He smells faintly of whiskey, cutting through the scent of his cologne.

“Is this close enough for you, guapo ?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds, and then Levi’s hand is on the back of my neck, pulling me down to him. My mouth crashes into his, his tongue licking at the seam of my lips, and I open up for him immediately. He tastes smoky and musky, whiskey and cigarettes mingling on my tongue, his stubble rubbing against my chin.

He’s voracious, his tongue sparring with mine as he groans into my mouth.

I break the kiss and drop to my knees between his thighs. We’re both breathing hard, and he watches as my hands move the waistband of his jeans.

“There’s no taking this back,” I tell him.

“I know.”

I undo one button, then another. His eyes stay fixed on me.

“Where were you tonight?” I ask.

“I went out to get laid.”

“And yet you’re here, kissing me and wanting me to suck your cock.” I palm him through his jeans, and he grits his teeth. “Was she no good?”

“I couldn’t go through with it.” He reaches out and cups my jaw with his hand. “I kept thinking about you.”

“Really?” I push his t-shirt up, and run my lips over his abs, inhaling the woody scent of his cologne.

“Oh fuck.” He runs a hand over my head. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Got it bad, huh?” I gaze up his body as I trace my tongue over his stomach. “You been dreaming of this? Of me?”

He bites his lip and nods, head tipping back against his chair. “The way you looked this afternoon, when you got out of her car. Fuck, Dylan, you have no idea…”

When I got out of her car .

Guilt drops into my stomach like a fucking anvil, and I back away instantly. Levi’s brows knit together as I rise to my feet.

“I can’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Levi reaches out for me, and I yank my hand out of his grasp.

“Don’t.” I take a step back. “I don’t know what you have going on, but I’m not your little experiment in Being Gay.”

Levi springs to his feet, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”

“No?”

“No.” He closes the distance between us, and cradles my face in his hands. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I fucking need you. And I know that’s fucked up, I know you love Stella, but-”

“But?” I push his hands away. “There is no But. I love her, and I want it to work with her.”

“She wouldn’t have to know.”

“Fuck you.” I shove him away from me. “So you just want me to be your dirty secret, huh?”

“No! I just meant… I just meant that we could… I don’t know, just, just try it.”

Thunder growls loudly, and rain begins to fall, landing on the porch in heavy drops.

“Try it?” I shake my head, laughing bitterly. “You know what, maybe Stella was right. Maybe we do need therapy.”

Levi advances on me again, trying to put his hands on me, but I fight him off.

“Dylan, please, I care about you. I… I want you.”

“I can’t do this.”

Levi doesn’t try to stop me as I walk back into the house, and my head feels like it’s going to explode. I lock myself in my bedroom, and throw myself down onto the bed, staring at the flashes of lightning as their reflections dance across the ceiling. After a while, the porch light clicks off and Levi’s footsteps sound softly on the stairs.

Guilt and shame stop me from sleeping at all, and as the storm rages outside, as it gradually blows out and gives way to a brilliant orange dawn, I wonder if maybe the three of us are broken, and if that’s exactly what draws us to each other.

Maybe it’s what will end us all.

I sneak out of the house early, before Stella or Levi get out of bed. I don’t want to risk encountering either of them, and I’m overcome with grief at the idea that I’m going to lose either of them because of this. If Stella knew I nearly blew her brother on her fucking porch, she’d never understand. And Levi crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed, and the whole situation makes me sick and sad.

I don’t want to lose him. I can’t.

I gun the engine of my bike and tear down the street, welcoming the fresh breeze.

I decide to do something I’ve never done before, because right now I don’t know where else to go. I need to talk to someone about this. Even if they can’t answer me.

The cemetery is bathed in golden morning light, birds singing happily in the trees. I hesitate as I take off my helmet, but I take a deep breath and climb off my bike.

The last time I was in this cemetery, I was a fourteen year old boy, trying not to cry as I followed the matching coffins to their graves. The only comfort I ever took from their deaths was that they died together. My father had worshiped my mother, despite the fact his family hated her. She’d been beautiful, fiery and intelligent, and he’d fallen hard for her.

“See her?” He’d ask me whenever my mother did anything, whether it be go to work or cook a meal. “Find yourself a partner like that, son. One as extraordinary as your mama. You’ll be happy for the rest of your life if you do that.”

They’d been on their way home from her favorite opera when that truck had run a red light and snuffed out their lives. I often imagine that night, those moments before they died. My mother’s animated speech about how the soprano had been perfect, about how the aria moved her to tears. My father’s indulgent smiles, kissing her hand as she raved and wept beside him.

And then they’d been gone. They hadn’t even seen it coming. My mother’s hand was still in my father’s in the wreckage.

I blink away tears as I navigate the wet path, my feet finding the way even though it’s been fifteen years.

The graves look the same, slightly weathered. Their pictures smile out at me, and I shove my hands into my pockets on a heavy sigh.

“Sorry it took me so long,” I tell them. “I don’t have an excuse. Well I mean, I do. I was in prison for 10 years.” I huff out a laugh. “Some son I ended up being, huh? But it was for a good reason. And you always told me, Mom, you said that sometimes the right thing is hard. I did it for someone I love.”

I grind my foot into the ground, struggling to find the words even though I’m just talking to the air. But their smiling faces make me want to admit to everything, to seek some level of equilibrium in the fucking mess I find myself in.

“I’ve fallen in love with someone extraordinary, just like you always told me to, Dad.” I laugh as tears burn my eyes. “The fucking problem is, that it’s two someones, and they’re brother and sister, well, stepbrother and stepsister, does that matter? And I’m here, loving them both and I feel like I can’t have either of them. But the thought of not having them, I feel like I can’t fucking breathe without them.”

I drop to my knees, scrubbing my clawed fingers along my thighs.

“I wanted to be someone you’d be proud of. Someone who you’d look down on and be telling all the angels, yeah that’s my son. And who am I? Some homewrecker who can’t stay faithful to one person, who went to fucking prison for putting a bullet in a man’s head. That’s your legacy. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I hang my head, wishing the ground would swallow me up and take me down to them. I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of not wanting to be here, to be anywhere but here where everything is complicated, sharp and painful.

“I love them both.” I lean on their graves, feeling the rough stone under my palm. “And I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to lose one of them.” I raise my face to look at my dad’s picture. A face like mine. Paler, with blue eyes. But the same smile. The same dimple in his cheek. “I wish you were here, Dad. I wish you could tell me what to do.”

My father simply smiles at me.

Footsteps sound on the path, along with the clacking of a cane. I turn to see a man in his Sunday best coming down the path, a golden pocket watch hanging from his vest, and black fedora perched on his thinning grey hair. He spots me where I’m kneeling on the ground, and his face twists into a scowl.

“Ah, moj bezuzytecny wnuk .” My useless grandson .

I hastily wipe my red face, and rise to my feet. “ Dziadek .” Grandfather . “Nice to see you too.”

He grunts, shaking his head. “Surprised you even know where to find them, since you never bothered to come out here. Not even once.”

“It’s not easy, you know.”

“Better for them.” He retrieves a white handkerchief from his pocket, and leans over to wipe the glass over my father’s picture. “They’d be so ashamed of you.”

“They were never ashamed of me.”

“Did they know you were an abomination in the eyes of our holy Father?” His crinkled eyes narrow as he takes me in. “Not that your poor excuse of a mother would care, brudny .” He spits on her grave, and rage so violent wells up in me that I have to stop myself from taking his cane and beating the old bastard to death.

“My father loved her, and that meant nothing to you.” My fists are shaking at my sides. “You’re the abomination, you hateful old fuck.”

“Get out of this place!” He points over my shoulder, his face thunderous with rage. “Get out of this place, you are not welcome here!”

I get in his face, staring down at his tiny, frail form. “You’re going to die soon, and you’ll be all alone. And I will burn down your fucking house, and I will come here and spit on your grave, just like you spit on hers.”

“Do it, I will be laughing at you from Heaven.”A hacking laugh bursts from him.

“You’ll be rotting in hell, and even that will be too good for you.” I back away from him, placing a kiss on my fingers and placing them on each of the headstones. “Love you both.”

“You are incapable of love.” His words follow me down the path, just like every cutting remark he ever made in my direction.

I tear up the dirt in the parking lot as I gun the engine of my bike, gasping for air in my helmet. Pain and anguish well up inside me, and I speed all the way back to Stella’s house. If a cop catches me, it’s a parole violation. But I don’t care. Right now, I don’t fucking care about anything except erasing this feeling from my bones, from my heart, the sharp, howling ache of everything I was taught to hate about myself and just wanted someone to fucking love me for.

Homo. Faggot. Freak. All the horrible taunts and slurs thrown after me, the bruises on my face when yet another kid had slammed my head into my locker door, when I’d been cornered again in the school bathroom by the jocks who decided the gay guy needed a dressing down. It didn’t matter how many girls I dated, how many I slept with, it didn’t matter that I told them I was bisexual. I fucked men, and that meant I was disgusting. A freak. An abomination. Their pastors told them so. Their parents told them so. Everyone told them I was wrong, and therefore, I was.

Stella’s car is gone when I pull up, and I storm upstairs. Her bedroom door is open. She’s not here.

I turn to Levi’s door, tearing it open, startling him as he’s mid-stretch. He’s on his back, head raised watching me with confusion, until I fist my shirt and yank it off over my head. His eyes move over my body with surprise and desire.

I know I’m doing something stupid, but I just need… him.

“One time.” I undo the buttons on my jeans, letting them drop to the floor. “One time, and nothing changes between us. One time, and we get this out of our systems. Then it’s done.”

He sits up, and I see he’s totally naked as the sheet slides down to his hips. “Nothing changes,” he agrees. “Just one time.”

“Good.” I cross the room and climb onto the bed, and his eyes fill with lust. “I want you to tell me what you want. What you need from me, guapo .”

He grabs my face, pulling me down onto the bed with him, kissing me, telling me just how bad he wants to be fucked by showing me with his tongue.

“I want to fuck you,” he says, breathing heavily against my lips.

“You want my ass?” I chuckle, kissing my way down his jaw as he nods.

“Y-yes. There’s lube, and condoms in the drawer.”

I crawl across the bed, and reach into the drawer, pulling out the small bottle of lube and a condom. When I roll back to face him, Levi is breathing rapidly. I lean against him, kissing him hard.

“Just one time,” I tell him again, and he nods. I wrap a hand around his cock, and he groans, his hips jerking almost involuntarily, to grind himself against my palm. “Is that good?”

He nods, his hand bracing around my neck to draw me in for another searing kiss, and he tries to take the condom packet from my hand.

“Let me.” I tear it open with my teeth, and reach down to roll the condom over his thick length. He wraps his hand around my dick, and I hiss out a breath. He continues to stroke me gently, making it hard to focus on what I’m doing as desire blurs everything else.

“Fuck.” I finish putting the condom on, and grip his jaw hard in my hand. “Do not be gentle.”

He eyes me uncertainly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I nip at his jaw, and he gasps, arching against me. “Yes, you do, guapo ,” I breathe against his ear. “And I want you to. Now, do not be fucking gentle.”

Something flares in his eyes, and I can see I’ve unlocked something inside him, the confident Levi Fenton who knew he could have whoever he wanted with just a flash of a smile. His mouth curls in a lust-filled grin, and with rough hands he rolls me onto my stomach, hitching me up onto my knees.

“You want it to hurt, pretty boy?”

I groan as cool drops of lube run over my skin, and Levi works it up and down with the tip of his cock.

“Yes.”

“Good.” More cold lube, and then he slowly presses into me. He halts, and goosebumps break out over my back. He inches inside me, slowly, too fucking slowly for me. I buck my hips, trying to push back onto him, but he holds me steady.

“Slow down for me, and I’ll fuck you like the good boy you are.”

My head falls between my arms, and I press my cheek against my bicep as he inches inside me. It’s pleasure and pain, all balled up together with the shame and delight of what we’re doing. He’s finally inside me, but I remind myself this is just once. One time, just to get us out of this funk.

He lets out a guttural moan as his hips finally sit against my ass, and he reaches around to stroke me with his slick hand. He’s so big, filling and stretching me in a way that feels like punishment and salvation at the same time.

Just this once. Just one time.

He punches his hips forward, and I moan loudly.

“Jesus, Levi.”

“Quiet, pretty boy.” His fingers stroke down my spine as he starts to fuck me. “We wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear us while I fuck this tight little hole of yours.”

His words set my veins alight. Of course Levi is into dirty talk. Cocky Levi Fenton, talking dirty while he fucks his best friend’s ass in his sister’s perfect little house. I clench my eyes closed, pushing away the image of Stella walking in right now, the horror on her face.

No. She never has to know. I’m willing to be Levi’s dirty secret and for him to be mine if it means we can just go back to being us, if we can find our way back to a regular life.

“Fuck, pretty boy, you know how good you look right now?”

The praise draws me back into the moment, into savoring the strokes of Levi’s cock inside me. His hands dig into my hips, hard and huge, holding me as he fucks me without mercy. I’m not going to last long. Not when it feels this good, not when I just need to fucking feel .

“Harder,” I beg over a rasping breath. “Fuck, I need to come.”

Levi obliges with a harsh grunt, rutting into me ruthlessly. My hands dig into the sheets, and I hiss and curse, my body taut with desire, my orgasm sending a white hot bolt to the base of my spine. With a choked moan, I explode, lashing the bed with one hot rope of cum after another, riding out the sensation as Levi continues the relentless rhythm of his hips.

I keep coming, and coming, the sounds coming from Levi now almost animalistic and desperate. With a sharp hiss and a tensing of his body against mine, he shudders, and he comes hard, dragging his fingers over my hips and down my ass to claw into my thighs.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck. Fuck.” He slumps onto my back, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Fuck.”

“So good you can’t say anything else, huh?” I laugh, trying to catch my breath, and Levi nods against my heated skin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

I don’t tell him how long I’ve wanted to do it. That would violate the rule that this is a one time thing. He doesn’t need to know I’ve been lusting after him. That won’t help anyone.

He pulls out of me gently, and I tear the soiled sheet aside before I lower myself onto the bed. He flops down on his back, the condom still sheathing his mostly hard cock. He tucks a hand behind his back and looks over at me.

“What changed your mind?”

I shake my head, waving a hand. “It doesn’t matter. I think we both just needed to get it over and done with. Now it’s not hanging over us anymore.”

“You’re right.” He reaches over and strokes a hand over my head. “You feel better?”

“My first fuck in over 10 years, what do you think?” I roll onto my back and stretch my arms over my head. “I feel fucking unstoppable.”

Levi rolls over, his hands over mine above my head, and he grins at me. “Your ass feels incredible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Makes me wonder what your mouth would feel like.”

I lean up and nip at his lip. “My mouth has made people see right into Heaven, guapo .”

“Is that right?” Levi chuckles. “You sure talk a big game.”

“Unlike other men, I can actually deliver on that.”

Levi lowers his face to the crook of my neck, kissing me delicately and in a way that makes my stomach twist. This feels too nice. I close my eyes, breathing him in, letting him kiss me like he’s mine and I’m his.

But this was just once.

The sound of Stella’s car pulling into the drive drifts through the open window, and Levi looks down at me with a look of defeat.

“Time’s up, pretty boy.” He climbs off me, and watches me scoop my clothes off the floor.

I expected to feel better, and for a split second, I did. But I expected this feeling to dissipate. I expected to head into my shower and wash off the longing for Levi and the shame of my grandfather’s words.

But instead, I stare at my reflection as steam fills the bathroom, and I know I just made everything so much fucking worse.