At Attention (Out of Uniform 2)

“Fuck. Apollo. Need...”

“Yeah, beautiful. Whatever you need.” Apollo’s hand sped up first, but Dylan caught the new rhythm quickly, tightening his own grip, loving how that made Apollo groan.

“Missed you,” Dylan chanted. “Missed you so much. God. Need this.”

“Me too. Me too.” Apollo’s lips soothed where he’d abraded Dylan’s shoulder. “Come on. Come for me. Love watching you come.”

“Need this.” Dylan’s hips started to buck, ass clenching, as he rocked harder into their combined grip. “Oh God. Apollo. Want you.”

“You’ve got me.” Apollo shuddered, eyes intent. Sweat dripped down his chest, whole body tense with holding back. Waiting for me. Power surged through Dylan. They’d both done more than enough waiting. He sped up, seeking the stroke that would throw them both over.

“Unngh. Right...oh fuck.” Warmth hit Dylan’s fist, as Apollo’s body shook under his. That was all Dylan needed, all he’d been waiting for, and he came hard, whispering Apollo’s name over and over. The orgasm felt like the culmination of a triathlon, stripping him bare, the finish line a catharsis for weeks of work, but leaving him triumphant. Exuberant even. They’d made it. They were here, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Apollo woke early, when the world was still dark, a thin sliver of light from the master bathroom casting shadows around the not-quite-dawn room. This would probably be a good time to nudge Dylan toward the guest room or figure out how in the heck he was going to explain his presence when the girls woke up, but Apollo was too happy to care about any of that. Genuinely, improbably, happy.

He rubbed the still-tender skin of his new tattoo. He’d taken the bandage off after the shower last night, but it was still new and healing.

Kind of like us. Things with Dylan were still fragile with a lot yet to be worked out, but he was confident at last that they could do it. He only needed to look around the room to know that he was on the right path. Dylan fit here, as surely as a puzzle piece, snapping into place. He fit in the place Apollo had opened up for them. For himself really. He given himself the space for this, and although a sleeping Dylan in his arms was a pretty nice reward, this wasn’t for Dylan. It was for him, because he deserved this—something that it had taken him weeks to work out, to accept, but he did.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the dark. Neal was always going to be a part of him, and he wasn’t deluding himself that he was ever going to stop missing him. But the ache was less acute now, leaving behind a bittersweet peace where there had been rage before. Life—and death—happened, and what mattered was what they did in between, and right now, Dylan was what he wanted to do, and that was okay. Good even.

“Mmmmph.” Dylan stirred, stretching against Apollo. “Is it morning?”

“Not yet.” Apollo kissed his head. “Go back to sleep.”

“I should probably go. You don’t want me here when the girls get up. And besides, I’ve got Sunday brunch at Ben and Maddox’s—”

“Wait a second. I have Sunday brunch. Maddox invited me earlier in the week. Didn’t mention anything about you.” Apollo laughed.

“I think our friends are setting us up.” Dylan nudged his shoulder. “Probably best if one of us cancels—”

“What? No way.” Apollo gave him a resounding kiss. “I say let’s arrive together and save them the trouble of a setup.”

“Seriously?” The wonder in Dylan’s words wounded Apollo. Man, he really had been a dick to Dylan all summer. “You don’t mind if they know?”

“No. I want them to know. I want us to wake up together and go hang out, and I want to meet this roommate of yours and your soccer team. I don’t only want to fuck around. I want to date you.”

“Date? Me? Like really date?”

“Like really date,” Apollo confirmed. He’d done a lot of thinking on this. “It would be too easy to beg you to move back in, but that’s not what either of us needs right now. You need to know that I want you for more than what you bring to the family, and we both need to go slow.”

“You do have a thing about slow,” Dylan grumbled.

“I want to take you to my favorite places around here. I want...” He took a breath, not sure he could voice this part of his plan aloud, but not able to keep it in either. “I want us to fall in love. Like actually fall in love. Like be a real couple—”

“Too late.” Dylan kissed him. “I’m already there. And we don’t need flowers and dancing to be a real couple. Give me fish taco night and Netflix after the girls are asleep anytime. Just give me you and I’m happy.”