By The River: Bubba (3)

Beckett stood in the middle of the apartment above the hair salon, Current Curls.

The air here smelled like stale hairspray and peppermint, a wispy leftover from the salon downstairs. Beckett glanced around, his heart a frantic flutter that he was trying to shush.

“What do you think?” Aaron grinned.

Scanning the row of windows, Beckett set his suitcase on the wood floor and shook off his backpack. He smiled, working to look happy and not scared shitless. He could do this. Beckett would be safe here. Rodger would never find him in some random town by the river. The guy never left the city. Plus, maybe Rodger was still sick. Last he’d heard, his ex-boyfriend was still in the hospital.

After he set his laptop on the counter, he glanced up. Above him, the ceiling fans chopped through the humid, stagnant air with a rhythmic tick-tick-tick. He took a few steps and noticed that the apartment was a long, rectangular space with shiplap walls. Above him were two lights glowing a soft yellow.

“Bathroom is here.” Aaron strolled beyond the kitchen. Well, it wasn’t a kitchen so much as the appliances were shoved against the wall, and there was an island counter to separate the area from the rest of the space.

His friend gestured to a dark brown door where the wall jutted out. Beckett spotted a shower, but he didn’t investigate further.

Instead, he walked to the windows. They were the main feature of his new home.

The glass was floor-to-ceiling. Five of them had intricate decorative frames. The layout offered natural light, but unfortunately, the view was crummy. Instead of looking out at a beautiful river, it was a jagged brick wall of the neighboring building. In the wall were windows like hollowed-out eye sockets. They made the back of his neck prickle.

“I know it’s not the best view, but—”

“It’s fantastic.” Beckett’s voice was too high, too bright. He forced his fingers to uncurl from the hem of his shirt. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

He cracked a window, and the Grand River summer hit him. The air was a wet blanket of heat, smelling of muddy water, diesel, and faint honeysuckle. Sweat bloomed instantly between his shoulder blades, a slow, itchy crawl down his spine.

“Do you want me to stay?” Aaron crossed the room and stood in front of him. Before everything, they might’ve hugged, but not now. Beckett wasn’t ready for that yet.

“No.” Beckett offered his best smile. “I’m fantastic.”

“We’ve been friends a long time,” Aaron said flatly. “I know that’s not the case.” Aaron opened another window. A light breeze tugged at his clothes. “But listen, this will all get better. I promise. We’ll get you some furniture, and eventually, you will get everything you want. This place will be your sanctuary, just like we talked about in the hospital.”

“Yeah.” Beckett brought his pinky finger to his mouth. He nervously chewed on the tip. “The apartment is going to be fantastic.” He realized he sucked his little finger and pulled it from his mouth. He inspected his blue, polished nails. “I moved in and didn’t even break a nail.”

“Sure, Beck.” Aaron offered a shaky smile. “I know you’re nervous when you start sucking on things. Are you positive that you don’t want me to stay?”

“Hell no. Go home.” Beckett fought the urge to put anything in his mouth. “I’m going to settle into my new place.”

“Call if you need anything.” Aaron walked to the door and paused. “I added minutes to your cell. Tell me to add more before it runs out.”

“I will.”

Still, Aaron paused. His friend had done a lot, but it was time for Beckett to stand on his own two feet. He could do this. And he was sober now, and no one was hitting him. For the first time in a long time, he felt hope…

Hope and sweat sliding down his back.

“I’m fantastic, Aaron.” Beckett walked to the door and opened it with a sweep. “I’ll call you later. Everything will be super-duper, and I have to get some beauty rest. I start work with Heather at the impossibly early time of nine.”

“Nine in the morning isn’t early,” Aaron scoffed. “But I get it. I’m going. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you, bro.” This time, Beckett worked extra hard to look happy. Whatever his expression was, it worked. Aaron looked relieved.

“I love you too.” With that, his friend left.

As soon as the door closed, Beckett pulled a sucker out of his jeans pocket and popped the candy into his mouth. He exhaled his tension and fought his anxiety. Again, he gave himself a pep talk. He could do this. Eventually, he’d buy a bed. This place would be a great sanctuary one day.

After a minute, he walked to his backpack and pulled out his giant bag of lollipops. After setting his candy on the counter, he strode to the windows. In the center of the five, the one in the middle had a window seat. Basically, this was his only sitting spot until he got a chair or a bed.

After opening the window as far as it would go, Beckett sat and sucked his lollipop, a breeze wisping across his face. Putting something in his mouth relaxed him, and he sighed.

The sky drifted into a deep, heavy purple. The cicadas began their buzzing, electric scream, a sound so thick it felt like it was vibrating inside his skin.

He squirmed to get comfortable. He licked at the hard sugar and leaned his head back as he tried to stay positive.

Before Rodger, he had a sunny disposition. Maybe he could get that optimism back. Stars popped out and twinkled as he stared at his new view.

When he lived in Rodger’s apartment, he had the cityscape to look at. At the hospital, he looked at the air-conditioning units and the cement rooftops. In the rehab center, there was a fence and bushes, and at the sober living home, he had a quiet neighborhood street to watch. Now, his view was the empty-looking building and an alley with a dumpster. Metal stairs led to a green door on the second floor. His eyes drilled into the windows as he hunted for movement.

It didn’t appear he had neighbors.

Beckett finished his candy and set the plastic stick on the sill. The sky was now black, and he wasn’t sure if he could sleep. His nerves were frayed, and he was hot. He glanced around the room. The yellow light from the overhead lamps made the wood floor shine. He tugged at his shirt. Well, the one good thing was that, for the first time in ages, he was alone.

A smile unfurled.

All alone.

Rodger had cameras on him all the time. He shared a room at the hospital. At rehab, he was observed, and he had roommates in the sober living home. Glancing around, Beckett smiled again. This place was his. If he was hot, he could take off his clothes.

No one could stop him.

Grinning, he slipped off his shirt and threw the garment to the floor. The breeze cooled the sweat. Raising, he kicked off his black biker boots and then peeled off his pink socks. Next, he wiggled out of his jeans, and last, he removed his pink underwear.

Sitting again, this time naked, the humid air was a cool caress. He felt the grit of the wooden seat against his thighs and the kiss of the breeze on his damp skin.

After a while, Beckett ran a hand over his chest. His skin was warm and soft, and he felt comfortable and even a little happy. Fingers walked back and forth over his nipples until they started to perk up and tighten.

Dragging his hands down his abs, Beckett felt so free. No one was telling him what to do. He was in control.

Pausing, he considered what he was about to do, and then he just—

Fuck it.

Beckett wrapped a hand around his cock. As naked skin touched naked skin, Beckett stroked up and down, picturing hot flesh clutching his erection and his fantasy man loving him.

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching into a jagged rhythm. He didn’t just want a fantasy man. No, Beckett wanted weight, heat, and a presence that could drown out Rodger’s touch. He gripped himself, the friction generating a localized fever that made his head light.

His touch was hungry as his fingers grazed his nipples. A sharp, jagged spark of desire shot straight to his core. His nipples pebbled under his touch, sensitive enough that the low hum of the ceiling fan felt like a phantom licking on his flesh.

As his fingers trailed along the underside of his length, Beckett shivered as fluid pooled at the tip and then slid toward his balls.

Every caress made his cock jerk sharply. A hot pulse beat in his bloodstream. Pleasure was a quiet river of sensation. Beckett stroked in a twisting motion. Then he took his swollen crown and gripped it tighter. So close. He could orgasm.

No one would hit him if he did.

Opening his eyes, Beckett hesitated as fear reached for him. Brutally, he reminded himself that no one was making him do anything, or hurting him, or using him. Beckett was allowed to touch himself. He could suck on whatever he wanted as well.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, Beckett slipped the digits into his mouth. Sucking, he inhaled as the slightly bitter and salty flavor burst across his tongue.

Still drawing on his messy fingers, Beckett squeezed his shaft until more drips welled out. He caught the steam in his palm. Rubbing harder and faster, he thrust into the snug sheath his hand created. The hold was so delicious, so hot, so allowed.

He arched his back, the wood of the window seat pressing into his skin, a welcome bite against the roaring, molten tide rising in his cock. Every slide of his hand was a frantic reclamation of his body.

Not stopping, Beckett stared at the stars. He wouldn’t stop until he reached a finish. He deserved a little pleasure. He deserved to be able to masturbate if he wanted. Harder and harder, he worked his dick until his entire body rolled toward each downward stroke.

And then the world narrowed to the thudding of his heart and the slick, frantic sound of skin on skin. When he broke, it was an electric shudder that left him gasping, his vision white-fringed and his muscles humming like a live wire.

With his hips bucking, Beckett curled forward. His cock exploded in the kind of pleasure that had been denied to him for so long. His eyes snapped closed so tightly he saw stars, and his hand never stopped moving. Tiny pulses raced over his skin as white jets spurted onto his skin. Beckett slouched against the window frame and exhaled.

He was sweaty, happy, and satisfied.

A flicker.

There was a heartbeat of blue light from the empty building across the way. What? Beckett froze. The shadows in those black-socket windows suddenly felt occupied.

Did Rodger send someone to find him? No. That couldn’t be. He calmed himself and sucked on his pinky. Only Aaron knew that he was in Grand River. Maybe the light was his imagination. It could be light reflecting from his apartment.

Slipping his finger out of his mouth, he told himself everything was fantastic. Beckett was safe, and he could do this.

He rose and walked to the counter. Grabbing a new sucker, he shoved the candy into his mouth.

With one last scan of the windows next door, he headed to his shower. Yes, he was safe in this small town by the river.