Fic: Never Let Me Go (part 1)
Title: Never Let me Go (part 1)
Pairing: Frank/Dwayne
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: underage, incest; language, angst
Summary: Frank and Dwayne's first reunion after Frank moves out
Disclaimer: LMS is not mine
A/N: I will probably hang up my hat for this pairing after this fic, so this ought to wrap things up nicely.
Frank cannot stop pacing.
He is restless and cannot remain still for a minute. His stomach is in knots with anticipation.
Sheryl is bringing Dwayne to stay with him for the weekend. Frank has not seen his nephew since he moved out of the Hoovers’ house two months ago.
The buzzer to the door downstairs sounds, making Frank nearly jump out of his skin. He hears Sheryl say, "It’s us, Frank!" through the speaker and he lets them in. He runs to his door, waits for them to come up, and hears their footsteps, but he forces himself to wait for them to knock, then opens the door.
"Hey, Frank!" Sheryl exclaims as soon as she sees Frank and hugs him warmly. "So good to see you again."
"Same here," Frank replies.
Standing just behind her is Dwayne, holding a duffel bag in one hand and a school messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He says nothing, just offers a tiny smile.
Frank lays his eyes on his nephew for the first time in months. His breath catches in his throat and he freezes for just a moment.
He remembers himself. "Hello, Dwayne."
"Hi, Frank," Dwayne replies quietly.
Frank forces his arms to reach across the threshold and pulls Dwayne into an innocent hug, holding just tight enough to ensure he’s actually there. He releases Dwayne and gestures invitingly.
"Come on in, you two."
Sheryl follows him into the living room and looks around with astonishment. Since the move, she came over several times to help with unpacking, and the last time, many of his things were still in boxes and the rooms were incomplete.
"Wow! Frank, the place looks wonderful. You've done a lot since I was here, last time."
Frank waves a hand modestly. "Oh, well, you know, I've had a lot of free time," he jokes.
"But, still, no one would guess you just moved in."
"Oh, there's still plenty left to do. Believe me. Uh, Dwayne, you can leave your stuff here. Sher, you want coffee?"
While Frank leads them to the kitchen, Dwayne silently scrutinizes every inch of the apartment from floor to ceiling as though assessing whether the space is fit for Frank to inhabit. It looks exactly like he expected. It’s spare, simple, and predictably neat, but full of little things that identify it as Frank’s. There are framed art prints on the wall and black and white photographs. Shelves of neatly-arranged books take up the much of the wall space. Dwayne glances at the spines and notices some of them were published long before he was born.
The three of them sit at a little table in the kitchen where Frank lets Sheryl smoke.
"I’m so happy for you, Frank," she says. "You’ve really made this place look like it’s been lived in for years in just two months."
"Thanks to you! It’s not all done, though. I still have a bunch of boxes of smaller junk to get through."
"You should be proud of yourself, Frank."
The two chat and Sheryl updates him on the rest of the family since they last spoke. Frank listens to her, but he's mostly occupied with sneaking glances at Dwayne out of the side of his vision. It felt so much longer than two months. And now, with Dwayne just inches away from him, the ache verges on excruciating. From what he can spot, Dwayne's hair is a little longer and it frames his face beautifully. He can't wait to have him alone and examine every inch of him, but he has to wait, for now.
Dwayne says almost nothing the entire time. He simply sits and waits for the first second he and Frank will be alone, though inside, he's screaming with frustration and has to stop himself from fidgeting.
After more than two hours, Sheryl decides to leave.
"Well, I’m going to go." She smiles and looks earnestly into her brother’s eyes. "I'm really proud of you, Frank. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I mean it."
"I know. Thank you, Sheryl. Thanks for everything."
The two rise from the table and hug. Sheryl bids Dwayne goodbye with a motherly kiss to the forehead and then Frank accompanies her to the door. They exchange some last parting words and smiles, and Frank closes the door after her.
When he returns to the living room, Dwayne is waiting for him. The teenager says nothing, just stands with an anxious look.
Frank approaches him, standing less than a foot away. "Hey."
"Hey," the boy answers weakly.
Releasing months of pent-up desperation, Dwayne throws his arms around Frank's neck and assaults him with a hard, starved kiss.
Frank is stunned at first, but then something clicks in his head and it all comes back to him. Nope. He hasn’t changed at all. He winds an arm around the boy’s shoulders, grabs the back of his head, and starts to return the kiss with the same fervor.
When they pull apart, Dwayne gasps, "I couldn’t wait."
They reconnect and Dwayne's mouth becomes unrelenting. Frank can only give in; he slides a hand under Dwayne's T-shirt and returns to the bare skin, immediately recognizing the feel of it as if no time passed at all. His mouth and hands search him out, madly trying to recapture everything he had before he let it all go.
"I missed you so fucking much, Frank," Dwayne whimpers near Frank’s ear.
"I missed you, too," Frank breathes into his nephew's skin.
The boy clings to his uncle as if he might slip away from him again. But then, slowly, his grip on Frank weakens and he begins to shake until he stops responding altogether. He wilts forward, buries his face in Frank’s shoulder, and starts to cry.
"I m-missed you so much," he sobs, trembling uncontrollably. His hands feebly grasp the fabric of Frank's shirt.
Frank’s heart crumbles on the spot. "Oh, Dwayne…" He holds him and strokes his hair as Dwayne’s tears spill onto him. "Oh no, Dwayne, Dwayne. Please, don’t cry. It’s okay, now. We’re both here."
"I-I just…I couldn’t," Dwayne struggles to say through his tears. He is crying so hard, there’s barely enough air in him for speech. "It was so hard, and I- I felt so alone…and-and it hurt so bad, Frank. It hurt so fucking bad."
"I know, Dwayne. I’m so sorry, Dwayne." Frank closes his eyes, but it doesn't stop tears of his own. Except for the weight of the boy hanging limply in his arms, he can’t even feel himself standing there, holding him. "I’m so sorry. For every minute of it."
Dwayne keeps crying and every passing second pierces Frank's heart deeper.
"Dwayne, what can I do?" he asks. "Please, tell me."
"Just…don’t stop," the boy pleads, raising his head and looking at Frank with tear-soaked eyes. "Don't let go of me. Keep going. I need this."
"You’re sure?"
"Please…"
Frank wipes away a tear from the boy’s cheek. "Okay," he says. "If that’s what you want." He takes Dwayne’s hand and leads him to the bedroom.
They sit on the bed and he embraces Dwayne again. He gently caresses his back and arms to calm him, whispering, "It’s okay," "I’m here," and "It’s going to be alright," and softly kisses they boy’s lips and face.
"Come on," Frank whispers, and they lie down. Dwayne burrows his face back into Frank's shirt as Frank rocks him in his arms. He rubs Dwayne's back and keeps pressing delicate kisses onto the boy's wet cheek, his ear, and into his hair, recalling the scent and feel of it. His fingers pass through it and he pushes a few errant strands that stick to Dwayne's forehead. It soothes them both. He cradles the side of Dwayne's face and brushes the boy's cheek with his thumb, sweeping away fresh tears.
"It's going to be alright," he repeats. "Everything's okay, now. I promise. Never again."
Eventually, the boy stops shaking and crying, and Frank can sense him gradually recovering. At last, he begins to respond and return Frank’s kisses.
Frank remembers how afraid he was to touch him in the beginning, as though the boy’s bones were made of glass and the smallest wrong move would shatter him. But, Dwayne always persisted. He needed to prove, not only to Frank but to himself, that it was another way he would not be broken.
When Frank is absolutely certain Dwayne is ready, he urges him further into the bed and lets him lie down. He lies beside the boy, leans in over him, and delicately cups his cheek.
"Do you feel better?" he asks.
Dwayne gazes up at him with his wet, reddened eyes and nods.
Youth is resilient. Frank continues gently holding and kissing him, pressing his lips anywhere tears stained the boy's face, and in a matter of minutes, it’s like Dwayne had not cried at all. After patient stoking, the fire from before reignites. He puts his arms around Frank's neck again and kisses him harder, ready to receive what he's been waiting for.
Frank gladly answers his passion, searching with his hands all over the trembling body in attempt to absorb as much of him as he can. He pushes Dwayne's shirt up and slides a hand across his chest. The boy moans because oh, God it's been so long, and tears the shirt off, begging Frank to take more. Frank puts his mouth to the skin of the boy's pale chest, his tongue teasing a nipple while his fingers rub the other, growing only hungrier the more he devours. All of it, the familiar taste, the feel of flesh under Frank's hands, the lines and planes of the lanky frame, and the soft whimpers, trigger a deluge of memories and the time passed since his departure disappears for both of them. This time, however, he does not have the hesitation he always had when he lived with the family. Here, where no one can find them or stop them, he can love his nephew as much as he wants.
He returns to kissing Dwayne and slips a hand between his legs, feeling the erection straining behind the zipper of Dwayne's jeans. When Dwayne stepped into the apartment, Frank recognized the well-worn, skintight denim. Exposed hipbones and his hands undoing the rivet button flashed in his mind and he came dangerously close to making it obvious. There was no question Dwayne wore them on purpose.
The teenager moans as soon as Frank touches him and thrusts up into Frank’s hand. His impatience is more than he can bear, and after finally Frank gets to unzip Dwayne's jeans, Dwayne wriggles out of them like they're burning him. His hard-on springs out and Frank isn't entirely surprised that he's not wearing underwear. Within seconds, they're both stripped of all their clothes.
Frank moves toward the nightstand and pulls a full bottle of lubricant out of the top drawer.
"You have lube?" Dwayne asks.
"Yeah…" Frank replies, just a little bit embarrassed.
Dwayne gives him a look that clearly translates to "You totally knew you were going to fuck me long before I got here, didn't you?"
"Asshole."
Frank answers with a self-conscious smile and then quickly lubes up his cock. They both waited enough. Dwayne lies down and brings his legs up, falling back into a ritual he knows well, yet his stomach flutters with anticipation nonetheless. No matter how many times they did this, he always had the same stirring of excitement and surge of warmth in his cheeks moments before Frank took him.
The older man kneels in front of Dwayne and lifts the boy’s legs, which tightly encircle Frank’s waist.
"Glad to see you haven’t lost your way with words. I think I missed that the most." He moves in over Dwayne, allowing him to wrap his arms around Frank’s back. He aligns his cock to the boy’s entrance and pushes until he slides inside.
Dwayne cries out-it’s a slightly painful shock after two months-and Frank nearly pulls out, but the teenager urges him on, "No, don’t stop! Don’t stop!" He’s waited too long for this moment. Dwayne also recalls their first time. It could only be done once and by one lover. It linked them irrevocably, and for Dwayne, sealed him as Frank's forever. And now, he was asking Frank to reclaim him.
Frank tries again, keeping his thrusts careful and shallow at first until they both ease into it. He pushes all the way in and the sudden intensity makes him shudder; his head swims for a second. And then, it’s just like it has always been: perfect, as if no time had passed at all. It's as if his nephew’s body had been made for him and no one else. He comes forward, cradling Dwayne’s face and meeting him in a kiss.
"I still can’t believe you’re here," he says, softly brushing the boy’s cheek with his thumb. "It’s been weeks, but I feel like I was in your room yesterday."
"Same here," Dwayne says. He's trembling again and using all his inner strength to hold back another flood of tears. "I missed this. I felt…so empty without you."
Frank feels like his heart will burst and he answers Dwayne with a deep kiss before it does.
"You know, maybe it’s because I’ve missed you, but I didn’t think it was possible for you to be any more beautiful. I could swear, as I look at you now, you are."
The boy's cheeks turn redder and he demurely looks away, inadvertently making himself an even lovelier sight to behold.
They move as one, clinging tightly, their bodies starved with need and pushing the limits of their endurance. Everything falls into place just as they remember it. At the same time, the separation and longing makes their senses explode like it's all new, like they had been asleep the entire time and were violently forced awake. Time and place lose meaning. Two months disappear and the last time they made love blends into today. They groan and cry out with furious need, but it's only a fraction of how much their bodies scream for one another.
Frank can feel fingers sinking into his back as words fall out of breathless lips by his ear.
"Oh, Frank…Frank…don't stop…don’t ever stop…don't let me go…need this need you want you don't stop don't leave…"
Everything Frank yearned for is his again, all at once, and any remaining shred of self-control is destroyed. His muscles ache and his lungs breathe fire, but it doesn't matter. Nothing on earth could stop him now.
Dwayne's arms are glued around Frank's back and his thighs hold him like a vice. He heaves himself up at Frank, wanting more, trying with everything he has to feel him harder, deeper. His moans grow in urgency and volume, and sweat pours out of him as he attempts to take in everything he's craved for weeks.
Frank goes for broke, exhausting his very last ounce of strength, and erupts inside Dwayne with a strained groan, his body rattling with the force of his climax. Dwayne moans with him, enraptured by the explosion of heat within.
The older man gradually comes to a rest, careful not to disengage. His heart hasn't had to beat this fast in a while and his lungs now cry out for air. Nonetheless, he pushes through his exhaustion, props himself up a little and takes Dwayne's cock into his hand. Within seconds, Dwayne is moaning louder and louder, letting loose after having to muffle his cries in his room, and spurting out onto his belly.
And then it's over. They move, still connected, to a more comfortable post-coital position. Dwayne curls himself around Frank as much as he can and rests a hand on Frank’s rising and falling chest, like he did so many times in his own bed, wishing he could just tunnel into him and never leave. His uncle's flesh still fills him and he finally feels whole. His hips still twitch a little bit here and there with tiny aftershocks.
Frank wraps his arms around Dwayne. He is satisfied in a way he hasn't been since the night before he moved out, enveloped in a close, welcoming warmth.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
"Yeah. I am, now," Dwayne says.
"Good," Frank says, idly stroking warm skin. "I'm glad to hear that."
They're both silent for a minute, still catching their breaths. It's the first instance of quiet for them where sadness doesn't fill the empty space and suffocate them.
"I really missed you, Frank." Dwayne says. I can't even tell you how much."
"I missed you, too, my love," Frank replies, traces of sadness and regret in his voice.
"I thought I was going to go crazy. I felt so, I don't know, lost."
All the emotions Dwayne bottled up during their separation begin to pour out of him.
"I don't mean to make you feel bad, but everything sucked after you left. I was so alone. It…hurt. There were so many times I wanted to run away in the middle of the night and go to you, but I knew I couldn't. When you moved out, it wasn't just you that left. Something in me went away, too, and I-I just didn't feel okay after that. I didn't know how to feel right without you, Frank."
Frank's eyes burn. The gravity of what he's done creeps into him, like a growing coldness under his skin.
"I am so sorry, Dwayne. I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Frank." The teenager raises his head and looks directly at his uncle. "I'm not mad at you. I know why we had to do it like this. It's okay. I'm here, now, anyway. Isn't that what counts?"
"Of course," Frank replies. It comes out hollow.
They lie this way for a while, dozing and daydreaming. Dwayne's eyes are closed and his fingers play with Frank's chest hair. Frank never takes his eyes off Dwayne.
Eventually, Frank needs to move and is forced to extricate himself from Dwayne. The boy whimpers quietly when he slides out, but doesn't protest.
"I'm so glad you're here," Frank says. "Hell, I'm just grateful you even want to talk to me after what I did. I honestly don't know what I'd do if you ended up hating me."
Shocked, Dwayne opens his eyes. "Frank, how could I ever? You kept your promise. You said we'd be together again, like before. That's all that matters to me." The boy finds Frank's hand and intertwines their fingers. "I love you, Frank."
Frank feels like a part of his sins are expiated with this simple gesture. He brings up Dwayne's attached hand up to his lips and kisses it. He closes his eyes and the tears spill. He doesn't think he deserves this.
"Oh, Dwayne, If I’d actually acted like a reasonable human being," he says mournfully, "neither of us would’ve gone through this. Especially you. That’s what killed me the most. You don’t deserve to feel this. But, I had to be selfish and make you suffer for it."
"You make it sound like I never had any say in it. I don't regret anything, Frank. Not a second of it-not even after you left. I always knew you'd have to leave one day, but I still wanted this. It was so worth it, Frank."
Frank's forlorn expression tells Dwayne he isn’t quite sure about that.
The boy persists, "Frank! Come on. Look, I know you feel bad. You always have, right from the beginning. But, you know I’ve never blamed you for anything, right? I’ve never held anything against you, and I never regretted anything we did."
"I know, kid. You don’t need to convince me. I just worried so much about you. I did a lot of thinking in the meantime. It just killed me to know how you must have felt, and I really had to ask myself whether or not you were better off without me."
"I’m not! Frank-!" Dwayne sighs sadly. "Jesus, Frank, how many times can we have this conversation? You know, when you lived with us, I used to be so scared that at any minute, you would realize what a horrible thing you were doing and you’d end everything. I walked into the kitchen every morning, thinking you’d be sitting there, all serious, about to tell me we had to stop. But, I stopped doubting you after a while. I believed you, even though there's no reason someone like you would ever waste his time caring about some stupid teenager that's so beneath him. Yet, you do. I don’t know what else to tell you."
It feels like a stab deeper into Frank's already bleeding heart. "I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It just took me a while to admit it. After I left the hospital, I had a million things going through my head, and I was really scared and conflicted about what I was doing."
"I’ve always know that, Frank, and I pretty much accepted it from the get-go. I've just been trying to tell you all along that it's okay. I just knew, deep down, that it was right, no matter how it might look to anyone else."
"Well, I'm glad you stuck it out," Frank says. "No one's ever fought for me like you did. You were so persistent. I didn't even know how to react to that. No one's ever bothered to hold out for me, either. It never occurred to me that anyone would."
Dwayne repeats quietly, "It was worth it."
Oh, Dwayne. Frank almost cries again, but just barely holds it in.
Dwayne changes the subject. "Hey, I know you don’t start teaching yet, but, right now, how do you feel about the new school? Have they treated you okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do they know you’re the top Proust scholar, and that they’re fucking lucky to hire you, and all that?"
"You know what?" Frank says after taking a moment to think. "I decided to let that go. I mean, yes, they're pleased I'm there, but there's no use in torturing myself over those things, anymore. I lost sight of what was important. I spent too much time worrying about things I wanted to control but couldn't. No one's ever been better at making me miserable than me. So, let’s say I’m one of their prouder hiring acquisitions and that is more than enough."
"I’m really glad to hear that, Dwayne says, smiling. "That's all I wanted for you. So," he asks in a quieter tone, "are you…happy?"
"Well, I have a job, now. I plan on writing again at some point and actually going through with it, this time. So, yes, I’m happy. As happy as a chronically-depressed academic can be."
"That's great, Frank," Dwayne says, his voice quavering. "You know that always meant the most to me."
Because if I knew you were happy and finally had your life back on track, he thinks, that’d be enough for me. Then, I’d know you made the right choice if you ended this, and I'd be okay with it.
He takes his nephew's hand in his own. He laces their fingers together the same way Dwayne did. "I know. And I'll be grateful for it for the rest of my life. You did so much for me, more think I think you realize."
Neither says anything for a space, and for just a second, there's a tension that just might make them burst into tears all over again.
Frank cuts through it. "You know what’s funny?" he asks.
"What?"
"I miss your small, stupid bed."
They both erupt in laughter.
"I missed you in it," Dwayne adds.
"Me, too. We had some good times there, didn’t we?"
"Yeah. I bet you don’t miss the cot, though."
"No, I can’t say I do," Frank replies with a chuckle. "But, you’d be surprised. After a while, you can get used to anything."
"Well, not anything…" Dwayne says quietly.
Frank sighs. "I know, kid."
"There were just so many things I wanted to tell you in person after you moved out. I-" Dwayne shuts his eyes, sensing another wave of tears approaching. "I'm sorry. Everything, coming here…I just…didn’t know it would hurt this much." There's nothing he can do but hide his face in Frank's shoulder.
"No. No, do not apologize," Frank says, his own voice breaking. "I swear, I won’t do anything like this to you again, ever. On my life."
After a few minutes, Dwayne drains all his tears for the time being. "I think I’m okay, now." He wipes his eyes and sniffles.
"Good."
"Can we have another go?"
Frank's eyes widen. "Oh. Wow. Okay. You're sure you're alright?"
"Yes," Dwayne purrs, sliding his fingers over Frank's chest."I want you inside me, again."
That initial spark of desire reawakens in Frank. "Alright, you."
"Can I be on top this time?"
"You can be any-goddamn-where you want." Frank begins to reach toward the nightstand. "Let me get the…"
Dwayne stops him halfway. "Wait! I forgot! Um, I actually bought some the other day. Can we use that?"
Frank stares at him for a moment and then laughs, shaking his head. "You haven’t changed at all."
Dwayne runs to his bag, rifles through it until he finds the lube and returns, handing it to Frank as he reenters the bed.
"Well, good, we have an extra, now," Frank jokes. He looks at the bottle. "Ooh, 'warming.' You took your shopping really seriously."
The teenager sheepishly tries to reply, "I just thought…"
"Oh, c'mere, you!" Frank grips Dwayne by the wrist and pulls him close.
They're more deliberate, this time. They kiss each other no less passionately, but they take their time to savor the taste of each other's mouths and skin and the sensation of each other's bodies under their hands and fingertips. This time, it's even more like Dwayne's room. Back then, they had at least a few hours in the summer midday for their explorations.
Dwayne happily kisses and nips at the man’s jaw, feels it with his fingers and rubs his cheek into it just to relive the familiar burn of Frank’s beard. Sublimely delighted, Frank smiles at his nephew's warmth and kisses his neck so that he can feel the prickle on his skin. Dwayne squirms and mewls with pleasure as Frank makes his way up to the boy's ear, nibbling on it softly with his lips.
Frank's hands roam with the aim of revisiting every inch of Dwayne's body. He yearned for it when they were apart and he could feel Dwayne's skin under his hands even in his dreams. His searching fingers find a nipple and he rubs circles over it with his thumb, drawing more squirms. Frank knows all of Dwayne's pleasure-spots like a map. He moves and puts his mouth to it, gently licking and teasing the hard little bud of flesh. His fingers slink lower, caressing and squeezing the flesh of an inner thigh, and then wrap around Dwayne's member, already erect and waiting for the slightest contact. Dwayne's hips twitch at the touch and he moans. He shivers and arches as Frank strokes him, fingers coming up to thread through Frank’s hair.
Frank pulls away so that they can exchange places. Dwayne sits on top and leans in to kiss Frank, who immediately places his hands on Dwayne's ass and gives it a firm squeeze. Dwayne plunges his tongue past Frank's teeth, indicating that he expected nothing less and approves. He then puts his mouth to the man's chest, nuzzling his face into it, and covers it in layer after layer of kisses.
Eager for more, Dwayne sits up and takes the bottle of lubricant, lying nearby.
"Can I do it?" he asks coyly.
"Please do." Frank looks up at him and admires the little boy-toy Dwayne likes to be for him when he's in the right mood.
The teen opens the bottle and pours the fluid into his hand. He opens and closes his fingers, letting the substance spread, and then closes them around Frank's cock.
Frank groans as soon as Dwayne touches him. He watches Dwayne's hand as it applies the lube and can already feel it warming up and starting to tingle. He then glances up at Dwayne. The teenager has his lips pursed around the very tip of his tongue, which Frank knows he always does when he's concentrating on something important.
Dwayne finishes and then firmly grips Frank's cock at the base. He raises himself up on his knees, shifting them apart more, while Frank holds him steady by the thighs. He aligns his opening with Frank's cock and, with one downward push, slips past the slicked head, emitting a quick groan and biting his lip. He sinks down, groaning with every inch until he takes it in all the way.
He settles into place. "Hey, I can feel it," he says. "The stuff."
"Me, too. It's pretty good."
"Yeah."
"Still pretty good without it."
Dwayne tries to hide a shy smile. He starts to move, rocking a little. Frank takes Dwayne's wrist and pulls on it, asking him to come down. They kiss and then Frank releases him. Dwayne sits straight up again and plants one hand on Frank's chest and the other behind him on Frank's leg. He starts moving faster and quickly picking up speed.
And then the moaning starts. Dwayne's open mouth releases the loudest and most obscene porn star-like moans Frank may have heard from him yet.
"Dwayne, these walls are paper-thin!"
"Let 'em hear," Dwayne replies with a sultry rasp in his voice, and makes no effort to quiet down. When he's not moaning he's biting his lip, eyes shut tight, and groaning heavily from his throat.
Ecstasy inundates Frank with the force of a tidal wave-the tight, eager flesh surrounding him, the intensifying burn, and the erotic spectacle before him-it swallows and consumes him.
The teenager rides him to exhaustion, hips pumping at full speed and using his hands to force himself harder. His cries only get louder and Frank quickly forgets about walls and neighbors because the everything but the searing pleasure ceases to exist.
Frank expels a labored groan and fills Dwayne with his heat. A mere moment later, Dwayne puts in the last of his strength and comes, wailing hoarsely, his release spurting out. When his orgasm dies down, he slumps forward onto Frank. Still engaged, they slowly keep moving their hips and ride out the aftershocks, seeking out each other's lips and kissing even though their heartbeats boom in their ears and they have to gasp for air in between each kiss.
They finally come to rest and quieter breathing replaces the sound of panting. Dwayne stays on top of Frank, but moves a little to take some of his weight off of him, careful not to let him slip out.
"That was un-fucking-believable," Dwayne says, breathless and spent. "As usual."
Frank replies, "You were amazing, as usual."
"What?"
"You. That was all you."
Dwayne's face somehow turns even redder than it already was from all the exertion.
And then, Dwayne's stomach rumbles.
"Not a bad idea," Frank jokes. He remembers that sex always works up an appetite in Dwayne. "Why don’t I get started on dinner? I already had everything prepared for us, but, uh, things went differently."
Dwayne bites his lip guiltily. "Oh. Sorry."
"It's okay," Frank says, waving a hand. "We should clean up, first, and then I'll start."
"Awesome. I really missed your cooking."
"Well, while you’re here, you can have anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Dwayne smiles and it finally resembles the self-satisfied smirk Frank knows well.
Frank asks, "Hey, would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow night?"
"Are you taking me out on a date?" Dwayne replies coyly.
"Yes, and in the evening, for once, not sneaking out during the day like weirdos."
"Fine with me."
"Great."
Dwayne gasps. "Shit, I didn't bring the right clothes!"
"Don't worry. I'm letting you pick the venue this time. Um, if you want to eat you're going to have to let me get up."
"Oh. Right." Dwayne rolls off Frank, letting his member slide out of him.
Frank gets up to leave, but Dwayne reaches for him. "Wait! Can I help you cook?"
"You’re my guest, Dwayne. I’m making it for you."
"Oh, okay. Can I just sit there and hang out like I used to, then?"
Frank smiles tenderly at his nephew. "Of course, you can. Come on."
***
The meal is over and they’re already groping each other on the way back to bed. Once in, Frank scoops Dwayne up in his arms and begins to cover him relentlessly with kisses.
"Ooh." The teenager purrs and fidgets blissfully. "So, what are we doing this time?" he asks.
"Something I know you like," Frank whispers seductively, coming up to kiss him on the lips. Dwayne remembers that tone and it instantly excites him.
While Frank’s mouth stays busy kissing Dwayne, his hand moves lower and touches Dwayne through his underwear-actually, Frank's underwear. Dwayne found Frank's boxers on the floor and put them on before dinner, making Frank get a fresh pair. Frank pulls them down with Dwayne helping to wriggle out of them. His hand wraps around the teen's cock and begins stroking him. Dwayne's head lolls back and he produces the kind of erotic moans Frank had fantasized about hearing again.
Frank retraces a familiar path down the boy’s chest with his mouth, kissing and tasting him all over, stopping to tease his nipples with a swirling tongue, grazing them with his teeth. When he arrives at his intended destination, he leans and closes his mouth around Dwayne's cock. Dwayne throws his head back and moans loudly. He threads his fingers through his uncle’s hair; his whines and whimpers sound almost plaintive from feeling so much at once after so much time.
"Oh, God, Frank," he sighs. "I thought about this all the time… and I would get so fucking hard… oh, fuck, that’s-ohhh… "
His body shudders and he unloads into Frank's mouth, releasing a cry that resounds throughout the apartment.
Frank swallows neatly and comes back up to him.
"Fuck, Frank," Dwayne exhales. "Jesus. I missed that like you would not believe." Dwayne pulls Frank in by the back of the neck and plunges his tongue into the man's mouth. "My turn."
And then he’s pulling Frank’s cock into his mouth and returning the favor. Frank watches the eager mouth move up and down on him, sucking voraciously as if making up for all the times he would have done it but couldn’t. He had imagined this every sleepless night, too. His hips begin to shudder and jerk and strained groans escape his throat as he comes. Dwayne opens up wide and lets him fill his mouth, swallowing the very last of it before releasing Frank's spent cock. He continues licking and kissing it as it softens.
Dwayne finally sits up, licking his lips. "Still good?" he asks.
"You missed a spot," Franks quips.
"Oh." The teenager wipes his mouth. "Better?"
Frank gives him his usual "oh, you" look and shakes his head.
They lie in restful silence for a bit and it feels no different than all the times they lay next to each other in Dwayne’s bed-though there is more room, now. That's something they both appreciate.
With his face pressed into the pillow, Dwayne can tell by the fragrance of detergent that Frank washed all the bedding the day before. He doesn't need to wonder whether Frank was or wasn't expecting another occupant in his bed, assuring him that their bond never wavered.
***
They leave the bedroom. Dwayne watches TV on Frank's small couch, while Frank washes the dishes from before and cleans up the kitchen. With those tasks completed, he sits down next to Dwayne. Dwayne immediately reclines against Frank, who puts his arm around him. For a few hours, they watch together, Dwayne mostly controlling the channels like he did at home. And just like when Frank lived with him, they occasionally converse with the same ease. Everyone knows Dwayne isn't a talker, but his tongue always unspools for Frank. Even then, he never says more than he needs to and Frank never pushes him. When they fall silent, it's never tense or strange; they simply resume when they're ready again.
Frank brings his hand up and idly strokes Dwayne's hair for almost half an hour, almost making him fall asleep. He leans in and buries his oversized nose in the boy’s hair, inhaling the scents of shampoo and perspiration he can recognize in a fraction of a second.
Which reminds Frank: both of them are probably due for a shower at this point.
Naturally, they go in together. They're barely fully wet before they their hands are on each other and they begin kissing under the warm stream. Frank isn't surprised, though Dwayne is. He thought Frank might be done for the night, but then again, Frank had to endure the same time apart as he did and missed him just as much.
In fact, Frank can't touch Dwayne's warm, supple skin enough. He kneads the heat-softened flesh possessively and runs his fingers over the slick surface. His mouth journeys away from the boy's and samples the droplet-dappled skin of his neck and shoulder. And Dwayne looks so beautiful with wet hair. There were times when Dwayne would come out of the shower before bed and Frank thought he would die of longing before everyone else in the house fell asleep.
Dwayne lets his head fall back and gives Frank access, moaning softly while he feels Frank's hands cupping and squeezing his backside, every kiss and touch augmenting his arousal. When Frank's mouth returns to his, Dwayne takes him by surprise and wraps his slender fingers around the older man's half-erect cock.
"Oh!"
Dwayne can't help giggling at the so-very-Frank reaction. It encourages him even more to satisfy him, rubbing his thumb into the swelling head.
Frank moves closer and covers Dwayne’s hand with his own and presses his cock into their shared grip. He directs their movements for a moment and then lets go.
"Good. Don’t slow down."
Dwayne holds on to Frank's shoulder with his other hand. It’s all he can do to stop his legs from buckling under him.
The teenager cries out and comes, almost losing his grip. He lets his own cock slide free and keeps stroking Frank's determinedly until Frank comes with a groan.
The shower washes their release off their bodies. They fall against each other into an embrace and kiss softly while their hearts slow down. Dwayne lets his head droop into Frank’s neck.
"Thanks, Frank," Dwayne says quietly.
"For what?"
"Come on. Don’t make me say it."
Frank smiles softly and holds him tighter.
A few minutes later, they’re in bed again, still naked, and Frank is kissing Dwayne’s damp belly. Dwayne giggles unabashedly each time Frank’s beard tickles his water-specked skin. It’s the first time he’s laughed so freely in weeks and the sound is sweet music to Frank's ears. He reaches down and gently touches the man’s chin. Frank lifts it higher and looks up gratefully at his nephew. The boy smiles at him, and touches his beard and caresses his cheek. If Frank could think straight, he would describe the boy's face as beatific. The thought of that smile saved him so many times from utter despair.
The two of them exited the shower mere minutes ago and Dwayne is completely hard again, his cock standing eagerly with a wet trickle seeping from its tip. While Frank continues kissing him, Dwayne's hand wanders to his erection and he absently strokes himself.
Frank movies down to his thighs. "Hey, while I’m down here…"
"Why do you still even ask?"
Frank laughs softly and takes over. On this occasion, he takes a little more time to tease him. He wants to hear the teen beg and he knows the teen is dying to beg, too. He drags his lips and tongue up and down the straining shaft as it lies flat against the boy's belly. Dwayne is already squirming and whimpering and Frank still hasn't even fully taken him into his mouth, just keeps alternatively sucking and licking the head of his cock. He feels the same tongue sweep over his balls and then a hand cupping them. He'd see for himself, but his eyes keep rolling backward.
"God, Frank, please!" he whines, but Frank knows that really means "don't stop!"
Frank teases him mercilessly until Dwayne whines inhumanly. He knows exactly when the kid's has enough. At last, he takes the frustrated teenager's cock into his mouth and sucks him properly. His lips slide until his nose connects with pubic hair.
"You still have to teach me how to do that," Dwayne mutters.
Frank pulls off to respond. "Keep practicing. Not that that's a problem for you."
Frank resumes and has Dwayne moaning again right away. The teen contorts his neck back and arches his spine, and then his hips start to pump upward, making his cock jam farther into Frank's throat each time. Frank can easily take it and is quite pleased with all the effects of his work.
Dwayne's hips make one last violent jerk and he comes down Frank's throat with a series of moans the neighbors almost certainly overhear.
After a minute, another breathless "Fuck, Frank," is all he can manage to say.
Frank smiles to himself and lies next to Dwayne with his head at about the height of Dwayne's ribs. The boy reaches down and places a hand on Frank's chest, idly passing his fingers over the hairs. Then, Frank moves up close behind Dwayne and drapes an arm over him.
"Are we going to get up or are we going to fall asleep like this?" Dwayne asks.
"Let’s stay," Frank says with a tranquil smile. "We can, for once."
"Okay." A silent beat. "Frank, can you do me a favor?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"If you wake up before me, could you wake me up?"
"Um, alright. Do you mind if I ask why?"
"I just don’t want to wake up alone."
Frank’s head tilts to the side and he smiles sympathetically. "Oh, Dwayne, I’m not going to go anywhere. I’ll probably be right in the kitchen, making breakfast."
The boy’s eyes keep pleading. "Please?"
The older man runs his fingers through Dwayne's hair. "Okay. I will. I promise." He kisses the back of Dwayne's neck, closes his eyes, and listens to the sound of the boy’s breathing, hoping it will lull him to sleep.
***
Frank never falls asleep. He’s tired, but the storm of emotions from the day won’t let him rest and he finds himself stuck in that gray area between wakefulness and sleep. He carefully detaches himself from Dwayne, puts on fresh pajama pants, and goes to the kitchen to make tea.
Sipping from a mug, he stands at a window in the kitchen, looking out into the night and thinking about everything that happened that day. It all feels the same on the surface, yet there is something strangely different at the same time. He asks himself if the entire thing should have just stayed at the Hoovers’ house where it all took place, but it’s too late, now. He brought it here and it’s part of his life, again.
No.
There wasn’t a single moment when it didn’t occupy his mind. The memories followed him, vivid in his mind as the day they happened, right up to the second he opened the door and let Dwayne into the apartment. No, it never left.
Dwayne unexpectedly appears at his side.
"Hey."
"Oh, hey. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?"
"Nah."
"I’m sorry. I thought you were, and I hoped I didn’t wake you. I didn’t mean to have you wake up alone."
"It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep, anyway."
Frank puts his arm around the boy and draws him to his side, letting Dwayne’s head fall onto his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just, you know, today had a lot to take in."
"Oh, I know what you mean. Same here," Frank replies. "Are you hungry?"
"No, thanks."
"Drink?"
"Actually, yeah."
"Okay. You want some chamomile? It’ll calm you down a little."
"Sure."
They drink their tea at the table and then return to bed. Frank moves close to Dwayne, leans over him, and gently clasps his hand around the side of the boy’s face, gazing at him tenderly.
"Why do you love me so much?" he asks. You really would be so much better off if you didn’t, he thinks, but doesn’t say it aloud.
Dwayne, surprised by the question, looks at Frank and quietly replies, "Because…you understand me. You listen to me. No one else did, so I just gave up and stopped talking. But…I want to talk to you. I know you won’t yell at me or judge me or just completely ignore me. When I’m at home, or at school, I always want to run away and be somewhere else. When I’m with you, I don’t feel that. I’m just fine where I am. Then everything feels right."
He’s silent for a moment, then asks, "Why do you love me?"
"Because-because you love me."
Frank comes forward, takes Dwayne into his arms, and hides his face in the boy’s neck, concealing the sudden onset of tears.
"You can have anybody you want," he says. "You really can, even if you don’t see it. Yet, you chose me. I still don’t get why, even though you just gave me a whole list. Maybe it’s just hard for me to believe I could be so lucky, and after all the stupid things I did. I didn’t expect to feel this way again, not so soon, and especially not with you, of all people. I didn't expect anyone to be as kind to me as you have been. You don't judge me, either. You know, you're not nearly as cynical as you think you are. You're good and you're pure in your heart. I might not still be here if it wasn't for that, Dwayne. You know you saved my life, right? Because of you, I actually want to live and I don’t want to hurt myself knowing I actually mean something to another person-that's something I also haven't felt in a while. And there’s no way I could ever leave you all alone. That’s enough to keep me here. I…I love you very much, Dwayne."
Tears fall from Dwayne's eyes, as well, and he whispers in reply, his voice quavering, "I love you, too."
Frank hugs the boy tightly and plants a kiss on the top of his head. At last, they both close their eyes and soon fall asleep entwined in their shared embrace. It's the first good sleep for both of them in weeks.
Pairing: Frank/Dwayne
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: underage, incest; language, angst
Summary: Frank and Dwayne's first reunion after Frank moves out
Disclaimer: LMS is not mine
A/N: I will probably hang up my hat for this pairing after this fic, so this ought to wrap things up nicely.
Frank cannot stop pacing.
He is restless and cannot remain still for a minute. His stomach is in knots with anticipation.
Sheryl is bringing Dwayne to stay with him for the weekend. Frank has not seen his nephew since he moved out of the Hoovers’ house two months ago.
The buzzer to the door downstairs sounds, making Frank nearly jump out of his skin. He hears Sheryl say, "It’s us, Frank!" through the speaker and he lets them in. He runs to his door, waits for them to come up, and hears their footsteps, but he forces himself to wait for them to knock, then opens the door.
"Hey, Frank!" Sheryl exclaims as soon as she sees Frank and hugs him warmly. "So good to see you again."
"Same here," Frank replies.
Standing just behind her is Dwayne, holding a duffel bag in one hand and a school messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He says nothing, just offers a tiny smile.
Frank lays his eyes on his nephew for the first time in months. His breath catches in his throat and he freezes for just a moment.
He remembers himself. "Hello, Dwayne."
"Hi, Frank," Dwayne replies quietly.
Frank forces his arms to reach across the threshold and pulls Dwayne into an innocent hug, holding just tight enough to ensure he’s actually there. He releases Dwayne and gestures invitingly.
"Come on in, you two."
Sheryl follows him into the living room and looks around with astonishment. Since the move, she came over several times to help with unpacking, and the last time, many of his things were still in boxes and the rooms were incomplete.
"Wow! Frank, the place looks wonderful. You've done a lot since I was here, last time."
Frank waves a hand modestly. "Oh, well, you know, I've had a lot of free time," he jokes.
"But, still, no one would guess you just moved in."
"Oh, there's still plenty left to do. Believe me. Uh, Dwayne, you can leave your stuff here. Sher, you want coffee?"
While Frank leads them to the kitchen, Dwayne silently scrutinizes every inch of the apartment from floor to ceiling as though assessing whether the space is fit for Frank to inhabit. It looks exactly like he expected. It’s spare, simple, and predictably neat, but full of little things that identify it as Frank’s. There are framed art prints on the wall and black and white photographs. Shelves of neatly-arranged books take up the much of the wall space. Dwayne glances at the spines and notices some of them were published long before he was born.
The three of them sit at a little table in the kitchen where Frank lets Sheryl smoke.
"I’m so happy for you, Frank," she says. "You’ve really made this place look like it’s been lived in for years in just two months."
"Thanks to you! It’s not all done, though. I still have a bunch of boxes of smaller junk to get through."
"You should be proud of yourself, Frank."
The two chat and Sheryl updates him on the rest of the family since they last spoke. Frank listens to her, but he's mostly occupied with sneaking glances at Dwayne out of the side of his vision. It felt so much longer than two months. And now, with Dwayne just inches away from him, the ache verges on excruciating. From what he can spot, Dwayne's hair is a little longer and it frames his face beautifully. He can't wait to have him alone and examine every inch of him, but he has to wait, for now.
Dwayne says almost nothing the entire time. He simply sits and waits for the first second he and Frank will be alone, though inside, he's screaming with frustration and has to stop himself from fidgeting.
After more than two hours, Sheryl decides to leave.
"Well, I’m going to go." She smiles and looks earnestly into her brother’s eyes. "I'm really proud of you, Frank. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I mean it."
"I know. Thank you, Sheryl. Thanks for everything."
The two rise from the table and hug. Sheryl bids Dwayne goodbye with a motherly kiss to the forehead and then Frank accompanies her to the door. They exchange some last parting words and smiles, and Frank closes the door after her.
When he returns to the living room, Dwayne is waiting for him. The teenager says nothing, just stands with an anxious look.
Frank approaches him, standing less than a foot away. "Hey."
"Hey," the boy answers weakly.
Releasing months of pent-up desperation, Dwayne throws his arms around Frank's neck and assaults him with a hard, starved kiss.
Frank is stunned at first, but then something clicks in his head and it all comes back to him. Nope. He hasn’t changed at all. He winds an arm around the boy’s shoulders, grabs the back of his head, and starts to return the kiss with the same fervor.
When they pull apart, Dwayne gasps, "I couldn’t wait."
They reconnect and Dwayne's mouth becomes unrelenting. Frank can only give in; he slides a hand under Dwayne's T-shirt and returns to the bare skin, immediately recognizing the feel of it as if no time passed at all. His mouth and hands search him out, madly trying to recapture everything he had before he let it all go.
"I missed you so fucking much, Frank," Dwayne whimpers near Frank’s ear.
"I missed you, too," Frank breathes into his nephew's skin.
The boy clings to his uncle as if he might slip away from him again. But then, slowly, his grip on Frank weakens and he begins to shake until he stops responding altogether. He wilts forward, buries his face in Frank’s shoulder, and starts to cry.
"I m-missed you so much," he sobs, trembling uncontrollably. His hands feebly grasp the fabric of Frank's shirt.
Frank’s heart crumbles on the spot. "Oh, Dwayne…" He holds him and strokes his hair as Dwayne’s tears spill onto him. "Oh no, Dwayne, Dwayne. Please, don’t cry. It’s okay, now. We’re both here."
"I-I just…I couldn’t," Dwayne struggles to say through his tears. He is crying so hard, there’s barely enough air in him for speech. "It was so hard, and I- I felt so alone…and-and it hurt so bad, Frank. It hurt so fucking bad."
"I know, Dwayne. I’m so sorry, Dwayne." Frank closes his eyes, but it doesn't stop tears of his own. Except for the weight of the boy hanging limply in his arms, he can’t even feel himself standing there, holding him. "I’m so sorry. For every minute of it."
Dwayne keeps crying and every passing second pierces Frank's heart deeper.
"Dwayne, what can I do?" he asks. "Please, tell me."
"Just…don’t stop," the boy pleads, raising his head and looking at Frank with tear-soaked eyes. "Don't let go of me. Keep going. I need this."
"You’re sure?"
"Please…"
Frank wipes away a tear from the boy’s cheek. "Okay," he says. "If that’s what you want." He takes Dwayne’s hand and leads him to the bedroom.
They sit on the bed and he embraces Dwayne again. He gently caresses his back and arms to calm him, whispering, "It’s okay," "I’m here," and "It’s going to be alright," and softly kisses they boy’s lips and face.
"Come on," Frank whispers, and they lie down. Dwayne burrows his face back into Frank's shirt as Frank rocks him in his arms. He rubs Dwayne's back and keeps pressing delicate kisses onto the boy's wet cheek, his ear, and into his hair, recalling the scent and feel of it. His fingers pass through it and he pushes a few errant strands that stick to Dwayne's forehead. It soothes them both. He cradles the side of Dwayne's face and brushes the boy's cheek with his thumb, sweeping away fresh tears.
"It's going to be alright," he repeats. "Everything's okay, now. I promise. Never again."
Eventually, the boy stops shaking and crying, and Frank can sense him gradually recovering. At last, he begins to respond and return Frank’s kisses.
Frank remembers how afraid he was to touch him in the beginning, as though the boy’s bones were made of glass and the smallest wrong move would shatter him. But, Dwayne always persisted. He needed to prove, not only to Frank but to himself, that it was another way he would not be broken.
When Frank is absolutely certain Dwayne is ready, he urges him further into the bed and lets him lie down. He lies beside the boy, leans in over him, and delicately cups his cheek.
"Do you feel better?" he asks.
Dwayne gazes up at him with his wet, reddened eyes and nods.
Youth is resilient. Frank continues gently holding and kissing him, pressing his lips anywhere tears stained the boy's face, and in a matter of minutes, it’s like Dwayne had not cried at all. After patient stoking, the fire from before reignites. He puts his arms around Frank's neck again and kisses him harder, ready to receive what he's been waiting for.
Frank gladly answers his passion, searching with his hands all over the trembling body in attempt to absorb as much of him as he can. He pushes Dwayne's shirt up and slides a hand across his chest. The boy moans because oh, God it's been so long, and tears the shirt off, begging Frank to take more. Frank puts his mouth to the skin of the boy's pale chest, his tongue teasing a nipple while his fingers rub the other, growing only hungrier the more he devours. All of it, the familiar taste, the feel of flesh under Frank's hands, the lines and planes of the lanky frame, and the soft whimpers, trigger a deluge of memories and the time passed since his departure disappears for both of them. This time, however, he does not have the hesitation he always had when he lived with the family. Here, where no one can find them or stop them, he can love his nephew as much as he wants.
He returns to kissing Dwayne and slips a hand between his legs, feeling the erection straining behind the zipper of Dwayne's jeans. When Dwayne stepped into the apartment, Frank recognized the well-worn, skintight denim. Exposed hipbones and his hands undoing the rivet button flashed in his mind and he came dangerously close to making it obvious. There was no question Dwayne wore them on purpose.
The teenager moans as soon as Frank touches him and thrusts up into Frank’s hand. His impatience is more than he can bear, and after finally Frank gets to unzip Dwayne's jeans, Dwayne wriggles out of them like they're burning him. His hard-on springs out and Frank isn't entirely surprised that he's not wearing underwear. Within seconds, they're both stripped of all their clothes.
Frank moves toward the nightstand and pulls a full bottle of lubricant out of the top drawer.
"You have lube?" Dwayne asks.
"Yeah…" Frank replies, just a little bit embarrassed.
Dwayne gives him a look that clearly translates to "You totally knew you were going to fuck me long before I got here, didn't you?"
"Asshole."
Frank answers with a self-conscious smile and then quickly lubes up his cock. They both waited enough. Dwayne lies down and brings his legs up, falling back into a ritual he knows well, yet his stomach flutters with anticipation nonetheless. No matter how many times they did this, he always had the same stirring of excitement and surge of warmth in his cheeks moments before Frank took him.
The older man kneels in front of Dwayne and lifts the boy’s legs, which tightly encircle Frank’s waist.
"Glad to see you haven’t lost your way with words. I think I missed that the most." He moves in over Dwayne, allowing him to wrap his arms around Frank’s back. He aligns his cock to the boy’s entrance and pushes until he slides inside.
Dwayne cries out-it’s a slightly painful shock after two months-and Frank nearly pulls out, but the teenager urges him on, "No, don’t stop! Don’t stop!" He’s waited too long for this moment. Dwayne also recalls their first time. It could only be done once and by one lover. It linked them irrevocably, and for Dwayne, sealed him as Frank's forever. And now, he was asking Frank to reclaim him.
Frank tries again, keeping his thrusts careful and shallow at first until they both ease into it. He pushes all the way in and the sudden intensity makes him shudder; his head swims for a second. And then, it’s just like it has always been: perfect, as if no time had passed at all. It's as if his nephew’s body had been made for him and no one else. He comes forward, cradling Dwayne’s face and meeting him in a kiss.
"I still can’t believe you’re here," he says, softly brushing the boy’s cheek with his thumb. "It’s been weeks, but I feel like I was in your room yesterday."
"Same here," Dwayne says. He's trembling again and using all his inner strength to hold back another flood of tears. "I missed this. I felt…so empty without you."
Frank feels like his heart will burst and he answers Dwayne with a deep kiss before it does.
"You know, maybe it’s because I’ve missed you, but I didn’t think it was possible for you to be any more beautiful. I could swear, as I look at you now, you are."
The boy's cheeks turn redder and he demurely looks away, inadvertently making himself an even lovelier sight to behold.
They move as one, clinging tightly, their bodies starved with need and pushing the limits of their endurance. Everything falls into place just as they remember it. At the same time, the separation and longing makes their senses explode like it's all new, like they had been asleep the entire time and were violently forced awake. Time and place lose meaning. Two months disappear and the last time they made love blends into today. They groan and cry out with furious need, but it's only a fraction of how much their bodies scream for one another.
Frank can feel fingers sinking into his back as words fall out of breathless lips by his ear.
"Oh, Frank…Frank…don't stop…don’t ever stop…don't let me go…need this need you want you don't stop don't leave…"
Everything Frank yearned for is his again, all at once, and any remaining shred of self-control is destroyed. His muscles ache and his lungs breathe fire, but it doesn't matter. Nothing on earth could stop him now.
Dwayne's arms are glued around Frank's back and his thighs hold him like a vice. He heaves himself up at Frank, wanting more, trying with everything he has to feel him harder, deeper. His moans grow in urgency and volume, and sweat pours out of him as he attempts to take in everything he's craved for weeks.
Frank goes for broke, exhausting his very last ounce of strength, and erupts inside Dwayne with a strained groan, his body rattling with the force of his climax. Dwayne moans with him, enraptured by the explosion of heat within.
The older man gradually comes to a rest, careful not to disengage. His heart hasn't had to beat this fast in a while and his lungs now cry out for air. Nonetheless, he pushes through his exhaustion, props himself up a little and takes Dwayne's cock into his hand. Within seconds, Dwayne is moaning louder and louder, letting loose after having to muffle his cries in his room, and spurting out onto his belly.
And then it's over. They move, still connected, to a more comfortable post-coital position. Dwayne curls himself around Frank as much as he can and rests a hand on Frank’s rising and falling chest, like he did so many times in his own bed, wishing he could just tunnel into him and never leave. His uncle's flesh still fills him and he finally feels whole. His hips still twitch a little bit here and there with tiny aftershocks.
Frank wraps his arms around Dwayne. He is satisfied in a way he hasn't been since the night before he moved out, enveloped in a close, welcoming warmth.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
"Yeah. I am, now," Dwayne says.
"Good," Frank says, idly stroking warm skin. "I'm glad to hear that."
They're both silent for a minute, still catching their breaths. It's the first instance of quiet for them where sadness doesn't fill the empty space and suffocate them.
"I really missed you, Frank." Dwayne says. I can't even tell you how much."
"I missed you, too, my love," Frank replies, traces of sadness and regret in his voice.
"I thought I was going to go crazy. I felt so, I don't know, lost."
All the emotions Dwayne bottled up during their separation begin to pour out of him.
"I don't mean to make you feel bad, but everything sucked after you left. I was so alone. It…hurt. There were so many times I wanted to run away in the middle of the night and go to you, but I knew I couldn't. When you moved out, it wasn't just you that left. Something in me went away, too, and I-I just didn't feel okay after that. I didn't know how to feel right without you, Frank."
Frank's eyes burn. The gravity of what he's done creeps into him, like a growing coldness under his skin.
"I am so sorry, Dwayne. I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Frank." The teenager raises his head and looks directly at his uncle. "I'm not mad at you. I know why we had to do it like this. It's okay. I'm here, now, anyway. Isn't that what counts?"
"Of course," Frank replies. It comes out hollow.
They lie this way for a while, dozing and daydreaming. Dwayne's eyes are closed and his fingers play with Frank's chest hair. Frank never takes his eyes off Dwayne.
Eventually, Frank needs to move and is forced to extricate himself from Dwayne. The boy whimpers quietly when he slides out, but doesn't protest.
"I'm so glad you're here," Frank says. "Hell, I'm just grateful you even want to talk to me after what I did. I honestly don't know what I'd do if you ended up hating me."
Shocked, Dwayne opens his eyes. "Frank, how could I ever? You kept your promise. You said we'd be together again, like before. That's all that matters to me." The boy finds Frank's hand and intertwines their fingers. "I love you, Frank."
Frank feels like a part of his sins are expiated with this simple gesture. He brings up Dwayne's attached hand up to his lips and kisses it. He closes his eyes and the tears spill. He doesn't think he deserves this.
"Oh, Dwayne, If I’d actually acted like a reasonable human being," he says mournfully, "neither of us would’ve gone through this. Especially you. That’s what killed me the most. You don’t deserve to feel this. But, I had to be selfish and make you suffer for it."
"You make it sound like I never had any say in it. I don't regret anything, Frank. Not a second of it-not even after you left. I always knew you'd have to leave one day, but I still wanted this. It was so worth it, Frank."
Frank's forlorn expression tells Dwayne he isn’t quite sure about that.
The boy persists, "Frank! Come on. Look, I know you feel bad. You always have, right from the beginning. But, you know I’ve never blamed you for anything, right? I’ve never held anything against you, and I never regretted anything we did."
"I know, kid. You don’t need to convince me. I just worried so much about you. I did a lot of thinking in the meantime. It just killed me to know how you must have felt, and I really had to ask myself whether or not you were better off without me."
"I’m not! Frank-!" Dwayne sighs sadly. "Jesus, Frank, how many times can we have this conversation? You know, when you lived with us, I used to be so scared that at any minute, you would realize what a horrible thing you were doing and you’d end everything. I walked into the kitchen every morning, thinking you’d be sitting there, all serious, about to tell me we had to stop. But, I stopped doubting you after a while. I believed you, even though there's no reason someone like you would ever waste his time caring about some stupid teenager that's so beneath him. Yet, you do. I don’t know what else to tell you."
It feels like a stab deeper into Frank's already bleeding heart. "I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It just took me a while to admit it. After I left the hospital, I had a million things going through my head, and I was really scared and conflicted about what I was doing."
"I’ve always know that, Frank, and I pretty much accepted it from the get-go. I've just been trying to tell you all along that it's okay. I just knew, deep down, that it was right, no matter how it might look to anyone else."
"Well, I'm glad you stuck it out," Frank says. "No one's ever fought for me like you did. You were so persistent. I didn't even know how to react to that. No one's ever bothered to hold out for me, either. It never occurred to me that anyone would."
Dwayne repeats quietly, "It was worth it."
Oh, Dwayne. Frank almost cries again, but just barely holds it in.
Dwayne changes the subject. "Hey, I know you don’t start teaching yet, but, right now, how do you feel about the new school? Have they treated you okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do they know you’re the top Proust scholar, and that they’re fucking lucky to hire you, and all that?"
"You know what?" Frank says after taking a moment to think. "I decided to let that go. I mean, yes, they're pleased I'm there, but there's no use in torturing myself over those things, anymore. I lost sight of what was important. I spent too much time worrying about things I wanted to control but couldn't. No one's ever been better at making me miserable than me. So, let’s say I’m one of their prouder hiring acquisitions and that is more than enough."
"I’m really glad to hear that, Dwayne says, smiling. "That's all I wanted for you. So," he asks in a quieter tone, "are you…happy?"
"Well, I have a job, now. I plan on writing again at some point and actually going through with it, this time. So, yes, I’m happy. As happy as a chronically-depressed academic can be."
"That's great, Frank," Dwayne says, his voice quavering. "You know that always meant the most to me."
Because if I knew you were happy and finally had your life back on track, he thinks, that’d be enough for me. Then, I’d know you made the right choice if you ended this, and I'd be okay with it.
He takes his nephew's hand in his own. He laces their fingers together the same way Dwayne did. "I know. And I'll be grateful for it for the rest of my life. You did so much for me, more think I think you realize."
Neither says anything for a space, and for just a second, there's a tension that just might make them burst into tears all over again.
Frank cuts through it. "You know what’s funny?" he asks.
"What?"
"I miss your small, stupid bed."
They both erupt in laughter.
"I missed you in it," Dwayne adds.
"Me, too. We had some good times there, didn’t we?"
"Yeah. I bet you don’t miss the cot, though."
"No, I can’t say I do," Frank replies with a chuckle. "But, you’d be surprised. After a while, you can get used to anything."
"Well, not anything…" Dwayne says quietly.
Frank sighs. "I know, kid."
"There were just so many things I wanted to tell you in person after you moved out. I-" Dwayne shuts his eyes, sensing another wave of tears approaching. "I'm sorry. Everything, coming here…I just…didn’t know it would hurt this much." There's nothing he can do but hide his face in Frank's shoulder.
"No. No, do not apologize," Frank says, his own voice breaking. "I swear, I won’t do anything like this to you again, ever. On my life."
After a few minutes, Dwayne drains all his tears for the time being. "I think I’m okay, now." He wipes his eyes and sniffles.
"Good."
"Can we have another go?"
Frank's eyes widen. "Oh. Wow. Okay. You're sure you're alright?"
"Yes," Dwayne purrs, sliding his fingers over Frank's chest."I want you inside me, again."
That initial spark of desire reawakens in Frank. "Alright, you."
"Can I be on top this time?"
"You can be any-goddamn-where you want." Frank begins to reach toward the nightstand. "Let me get the…"
Dwayne stops him halfway. "Wait! I forgot! Um, I actually bought some the other day. Can we use that?"
Frank stares at him for a moment and then laughs, shaking his head. "You haven’t changed at all."
Dwayne runs to his bag, rifles through it until he finds the lube and returns, handing it to Frank as he reenters the bed.
"Well, good, we have an extra, now," Frank jokes. He looks at the bottle. "Ooh, 'warming.' You took your shopping really seriously."
The teenager sheepishly tries to reply, "I just thought…"
"Oh, c'mere, you!" Frank grips Dwayne by the wrist and pulls him close.
They're more deliberate, this time. They kiss each other no less passionately, but they take their time to savor the taste of each other's mouths and skin and the sensation of each other's bodies under their hands and fingertips. This time, it's even more like Dwayne's room. Back then, they had at least a few hours in the summer midday for their explorations.
Dwayne happily kisses and nips at the man’s jaw, feels it with his fingers and rubs his cheek into it just to relive the familiar burn of Frank’s beard. Sublimely delighted, Frank smiles at his nephew's warmth and kisses his neck so that he can feel the prickle on his skin. Dwayne squirms and mewls with pleasure as Frank makes his way up to the boy's ear, nibbling on it softly with his lips.
Frank's hands roam with the aim of revisiting every inch of Dwayne's body. He yearned for it when they were apart and he could feel Dwayne's skin under his hands even in his dreams. His searching fingers find a nipple and he rubs circles over it with his thumb, drawing more squirms. Frank knows all of Dwayne's pleasure-spots like a map. He moves and puts his mouth to it, gently licking and teasing the hard little bud of flesh. His fingers slink lower, caressing and squeezing the flesh of an inner thigh, and then wrap around Dwayne's member, already erect and waiting for the slightest contact. Dwayne's hips twitch at the touch and he moans. He shivers and arches as Frank strokes him, fingers coming up to thread through Frank’s hair.
Frank pulls away so that they can exchange places. Dwayne sits on top and leans in to kiss Frank, who immediately places his hands on Dwayne's ass and gives it a firm squeeze. Dwayne plunges his tongue past Frank's teeth, indicating that he expected nothing less and approves. He then puts his mouth to the man's chest, nuzzling his face into it, and covers it in layer after layer of kisses.
Eager for more, Dwayne sits up and takes the bottle of lubricant, lying nearby.
"Can I do it?" he asks coyly.
"Please do." Frank looks up at him and admires the little boy-toy Dwayne likes to be for him when he's in the right mood.
The teen opens the bottle and pours the fluid into his hand. He opens and closes his fingers, letting the substance spread, and then closes them around Frank's cock.
Frank groans as soon as Dwayne touches him. He watches Dwayne's hand as it applies the lube and can already feel it warming up and starting to tingle. He then glances up at Dwayne. The teenager has his lips pursed around the very tip of his tongue, which Frank knows he always does when he's concentrating on something important.
Dwayne finishes and then firmly grips Frank's cock at the base. He raises himself up on his knees, shifting them apart more, while Frank holds him steady by the thighs. He aligns his opening with Frank's cock and, with one downward push, slips past the slicked head, emitting a quick groan and biting his lip. He sinks down, groaning with every inch until he takes it in all the way.
He settles into place. "Hey, I can feel it," he says. "The stuff."
"Me, too. It's pretty good."
"Yeah."
"Still pretty good without it."
Dwayne tries to hide a shy smile. He starts to move, rocking a little. Frank takes Dwayne's wrist and pulls on it, asking him to come down. They kiss and then Frank releases him. Dwayne sits straight up again and plants one hand on Frank's chest and the other behind him on Frank's leg. He starts moving faster and quickly picking up speed.
And then the moaning starts. Dwayne's open mouth releases the loudest and most obscene porn star-like moans Frank may have heard from him yet.
"Dwayne, these walls are paper-thin!"
"Let 'em hear," Dwayne replies with a sultry rasp in his voice, and makes no effort to quiet down. When he's not moaning he's biting his lip, eyes shut tight, and groaning heavily from his throat.
Ecstasy inundates Frank with the force of a tidal wave-the tight, eager flesh surrounding him, the intensifying burn, and the erotic spectacle before him-it swallows and consumes him.
The teenager rides him to exhaustion, hips pumping at full speed and using his hands to force himself harder. His cries only get louder and Frank quickly forgets about walls and neighbors because the everything but the searing pleasure ceases to exist.
Frank expels a labored groan and fills Dwayne with his heat. A mere moment later, Dwayne puts in the last of his strength and comes, wailing hoarsely, his release spurting out. When his orgasm dies down, he slumps forward onto Frank. Still engaged, they slowly keep moving their hips and ride out the aftershocks, seeking out each other's lips and kissing even though their heartbeats boom in their ears and they have to gasp for air in between each kiss.
They finally come to rest and quieter breathing replaces the sound of panting. Dwayne stays on top of Frank, but moves a little to take some of his weight off of him, careful not to let him slip out.
"That was un-fucking-believable," Dwayne says, breathless and spent. "As usual."
Frank replies, "You were amazing, as usual."
"What?"
"You. That was all you."
Dwayne's face somehow turns even redder than it already was from all the exertion.
And then, Dwayne's stomach rumbles.
"Not a bad idea," Frank jokes. He remembers that sex always works up an appetite in Dwayne. "Why don’t I get started on dinner? I already had everything prepared for us, but, uh, things went differently."
Dwayne bites his lip guiltily. "Oh. Sorry."
"It's okay," Frank says, waving a hand. "We should clean up, first, and then I'll start."
"Awesome. I really missed your cooking."
"Well, while you’re here, you can have anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Dwayne smiles and it finally resembles the self-satisfied smirk Frank knows well.
Frank asks, "Hey, would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow night?"
"Are you taking me out on a date?" Dwayne replies coyly.
"Yes, and in the evening, for once, not sneaking out during the day like weirdos."
"Fine with me."
"Great."
Dwayne gasps. "Shit, I didn't bring the right clothes!"
"Don't worry. I'm letting you pick the venue this time. Um, if you want to eat you're going to have to let me get up."
"Oh. Right." Dwayne rolls off Frank, letting his member slide out of him.
Frank gets up to leave, but Dwayne reaches for him. "Wait! Can I help you cook?"
"You’re my guest, Dwayne. I’m making it for you."
"Oh, okay. Can I just sit there and hang out like I used to, then?"
Frank smiles tenderly at his nephew. "Of course, you can. Come on."
***
The meal is over and they’re already groping each other on the way back to bed. Once in, Frank scoops Dwayne up in his arms and begins to cover him relentlessly with kisses.
"Ooh." The teenager purrs and fidgets blissfully. "So, what are we doing this time?" he asks.
"Something I know you like," Frank whispers seductively, coming up to kiss him on the lips. Dwayne remembers that tone and it instantly excites him.
While Frank’s mouth stays busy kissing Dwayne, his hand moves lower and touches Dwayne through his underwear-actually, Frank's underwear. Dwayne found Frank's boxers on the floor and put them on before dinner, making Frank get a fresh pair. Frank pulls them down with Dwayne helping to wriggle out of them. His hand wraps around the teen's cock and begins stroking him. Dwayne's head lolls back and he produces the kind of erotic moans Frank had fantasized about hearing again.
Frank retraces a familiar path down the boy’s chest with his mouth, kissing and tasting him all over, stopping to tease his nipples with a swirling tongue, grazing them with his teeth. When he arrives at his intended destination, he leans and closes his mouth around Dwayne's cock. Dwayne throws his head back and moans loudly. He threads his fingers through his uncle’s hair; his whines and whimpers sound almost plaintive from feeling so much at once after so much time.
"Oh, God, Frank," he sighs. "I thought about this all the time… and I would get so fucking hard… oh, fuck, that’s-ohhh… "
His body shudders and he unloads into Frank's mouth, releasing a cry that resounds throughout the apartment.
Frank swallows neatly and comes back up to him.
"Fuck, Frank," Dwayne exhales. "Jesus. I missed that like you would not believe." Dwayne pulls Frank in by the back of the neck and plunges his tongue into the man's mouth. "My turn."
And then he’s pulling Frank’s cock into his mouth and returning the favor. Frank watches the eager mouth move up and down on him, sucking voraciously as if making up for all the times he would have done it but couldn’t. He had imagined this every sleepless night, too. His hips begin to shudder and jerk and strained groans escape his throat as he comes. Dwayne opens up wide and lets him fill his mouth, swallowing the very last of it before releasing Frank's spent cock. He continues licking and kissing it as it softens.
Dwayne finally sits up, licking his lips. "Still good?" he asks.
"You missed a spot," Franks quips.
"Oh." The teenager wipes his mouth. "Better?"
Frank gives him his usual "oh, you" look and shakes his head.
They lie in restful silence for a bit and it feels no different than all the times they lay next to each other in Dwayne’s bed-though there is more room, now. That's something they both appreciate.
With his face pressed into the pillow, Dwayne can tell by the fragrance of detergent that Frank washed all the bedding the day before. He doesn't need to wonder whether Frank was or wasn't expecting another occupant in his bed, assuring him that their bond never wavered.
***
They leave the bedroom. Dwayne watches TV on Frank's small couch, while Frank washes the dishes from before and cleans up the kitchen. With those tasks completed, he sits down next to Dwayne. Dwayne immediately reclines against Frank, who puts his arm around him. For a few hours, they watch together, Dwayne mostly controlling the channels like he did at home. And just like when Frank lived with him, they occasionally converse with the same ease. Everyone knows Dwayne isn't a talker, but his tongue always unspools for Frank. Even then, he never says more than he needs to and Frank never pushes him. When they fall silent, it's never tense or strange; they simply resume when they're ready again.
Frank brings his hand up and idly strokes Dwayne's hair for almost half an hour, almost making him fall asleep. He leans in and buries his oversized nose in the boy’s hair, inhaling the scents of shampoo and perspiration he can recognize in a fraction of a second.
Which reminds Frank: both of them are probably due for a shower at this point.
Naturally, they go in together. They're barely fully wet before they their hands are on each other and they begin kissing under the warm stream. Frank isn't surprised, though Dwayne is. He thought Frank might be done for the night, but then again, Frank had to endure the same time apart as he did and missed him just as much.
In fact, Frank can't touch Dwayne's warm, supple skin enough. He kneads the heat-softened flesh possessively and runs his fingers over the slick surface. His mouth journeys away from the boy's and samples the droplet-dappled skin of his neck and shoulder. And Dwayne looks so beautiful with wet hair. There were times when Dwayne would come out of the shower before bed and Frank thought he would die of longing before everyone else in the house fell asleep.
Dwayne lets his head fall back and gives Frank access, moaning softly while he feels Frank's hands cupping and squeezing his backside, every kiss and touch augmenting his arousal. When Frank's mouth returns to his, Dwayne takes him by surprise and wraps his slender fingers around the older man's half-erect cock.
"Oh!"
Dwayne can't help giggling at the so-very-Frank reaction. It encourages him even more to satisfy him, rubbing his thumb into the swelling head.
Frank moves closer and covers Dwayne’s hand with his own and presses his cock into their shared grip. He directs their movements for a moment and then lets go.
"Good. Don’t slow down."
Dwayne holds on to Frank's shoulder with his other hand. It’s all he can do to stop his legs from buckling under him.
The teenager cries out and comes, almost losing his grip. He lets his own cock slide free and keeps stroking Frank's determinedly until Frank comes with a groan.
The shower washes their release off their bodies. They fall against each other into an embrace and kiss softly while their hearts slow down. Dwayne lets his head droop into Frank’s neck.
"Thanks, Frank," Dwayne says quietly.
"For what?"
"Come on. Don’t make me say it."
Frank smiles softly and holds him tighter.
A few minutes later, they’re in bed again, still naked, and Frank is kissing Dwayne’s damp belly. Dwayne giggles unabashedly each time Frank’s beard tickles his water-specked skin. It’s the first time he’s laughed so freely in weeks and the sound is sweet music to Frank's ears. He reaches down and gently touches the man’s chin. Frank lifts it higher and looks up gratefully at his nephew. The boy smiles at him, and touches his beard and caresses his cheek. If Frank could think straight, he would describe the boy's face as beatific. The thought of that smile saved him so many times from utter despair.
The two of them exited the shower mere minutes ago and Dwayne is completely hard again, his cock standing eagerly with a wet trickle seeping from its tip. While Frank continues kissing him, Dwayne's hand wanders to his erection and he absently strokes himself.
Frank movies down to his thighs. "Hey, while I’m down here…"
"Why do you still even ask?"
Frank laughs softly and takes over. On this occasion, he takes a little more time to tease him. He wants to hear the teen beg and he knows the teen is dying to beg, too. He drags his lips and tongue up and down the straining shaft as it lies flat against the boy's belly. Dwayne is already squirming and whimpering and Frank still hasn't even fully taken him into his mouth, just keeps alternatively sucking and licking the head of his cock. He feels the same tongue sweep over his balls and then a hand cupping them. He'd see for himself, but his eyes keep rolling backward.
"God, Frank, please!" he whines, but Frank knows that really means "don't stop!"
Frank teases him mercilessly until Dwayne whines inhumanly. He knows exactly when the kid's has enough. At last, he takes the frustrated teenager's cock into his mouth and sucks him properly. His lips slide until his nose connects with pubic hair.
"You still have to teach me how to do that," Dwayne mutters.
Frank pulls off to respond. "Keep practicing. Not that that's a problem for you."
Frank resumes and has Dwayne moaning again right away. The teen contorts his neck back and arches his spine, and then his hips start to pump upward, making his cock jam farther into Frank's throat each time. Frank can easily take it and is quite pleased with all the effects of his work.
Dwayne's hips make one last violent jerk and he comes down Frank's throat with a series of moans the neighbors almost certainly overhear.
After a minute, another breathless "Fuck, Frank," is all he can manage to say.
Frank smiles to himself and lies next to Dwayne with his head at about the height of Dwayne's ribs. The boy reaches down and places a hand on Frank's chest, idly passing his fingers over the hairs. Then, Frank moves up close behind Dwayne and drapes an arm over him.
"Are we going to get up or are we going to fall asleep like this?" Dwayne asks.
"Let’s stay," Frank says with a tranquil smile. "We can, for once."
"Okay." A silent beat. "Frank, can you do me a favor?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"If you wake up before me, could you wake me up?"
"Um, alright. Do you mind if I ask why?"
"I just don’t want to wake up alone."
Frank’s head tilts to the side and he smiles sympathetically. "Oh, Dwayne, I’m not going to go anywhere. I’ll probably be right in the kitchen, making breakfast."
The boy’s eyes keep pleading. "Please?"
The older man runs his fingers through Dwayne's hair. "Okay. I will. I promise." He kisses the back of Dwayne's neck, closes his eyes, and listens to the sound of the boy’s breathing, hoping it will lull him to sleep.
***
Frank never falls asleep. He’s tired, but the storm of emotions from the day won’t let him rest and he finds himself stuck in that gray area between wakefulness and sleep. He carefully detaches himself from Dwayne, puts on fresh pajama pants, and goes to the kitchen to make tea.
Sipping from a mug, he stands at a window in the kitchen, looking out into the night and thinking about everything that happened that day. It all feels the same on the surface, yet there is something strangely different at the same time. He asks himself if the entire thing should have just stayed at the Hoovers’ house where it all took place, but it’s too late, now. He brought it here and it’s part of his life, again.
No.
There wasn’t a single moment when it didn’t occupy his mind. The memories followed him, vivid in his mind as the day they happened, right up to the second he opened the door and let Dwayne into the apartment. No, it never left.
Dwayne unexpectedly appears at his side.
"Hey."
"Oh, hey. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?"
"Nah."
"I’m sorry. I thought you were, and I hoped I didn’t wake you. I didn’t mean to have you wake up alone."
"It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep, anyway."
Frank puts his arm around the boy and draws him to his side, letting Dwayne’s head fall onto his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just, you know, today had a lot to take in."
"Oh, I know what you mean. Same here," Frank replies. "Are you hungry?"
"No, thanks."
"Drink?"
"Actually, yeah."
"Okay. You want some chamomile? It’ll calm you down a little."
"Sure."
They drink their tea at the table and then return to bed. Frank moves close to Dwayne, leans over him, and gently clasps his hand around the side of the boy’s face, gazing at him tenderly.
"Why do you love me so much?" he asks. You really would be so much better off if you didn’t, he thinks, but doesn’t say it aloud.
Dwayne, surprised by the question, looks at Frank and quietly replies, "Because…you understand me. You listen to me. No one else did, so I just gave up and stopped talking. But…I want to talk to you. I know you won’t yell at me or judge me or just completely ignore me. When I’m at home, or at school, I always want to run away and be somewhere else. When I’m with you, I don’t feel that. I’m just fine where I am. Then everything feels right."
He’s silent for a moment, then asks, "Why do you love me?"
"Because-because you love me."
Frank comes forward, takes Dwayne into his arms, and hides his face in the boy’s neck, concealing the sudden onset of tears.
"You can have anybody you want," he says. "You really can, even if you don’t see it. Yet, you chose me. I still don’t get why, even though you just gave me a whole list. Maybe it’s just hard for me to believe I could be so lucky, and after all the stupid things I did. I didn’t expect to feel this way again, not so soon, and especially not with you, of all people. I didn't expect anyone to be as kind to me as you have been. You don't judge me, either. You know, you're not nearly as cynical as you think you are. You're good and you're pure in your heart. I might not still be here if it wasn't for that, Dwayne. You know you saved my life, right? Because of you, I actually want to live and I don’t want to hurt myself knowing I actually mean something to another person-that's something I also haven't felt in a while. And there’s no way I could ever leave you all alone. That’s enough to keep me here. I…I love you very much, Dwayne."
Tears fall from Dwayne's eyes, as well, and he whispers in reply, his voice quavering, "I love you, too."
Frank hugs the boy tightly and plants a kiss on the top of his head. At last, they both close their eyes and soon fall asleep entwined in their shared embrace. It's the first good sleep for both of them in weeks.