After the End Ch. 17

Author's note:

This is the fifth chapter of After the End - Part 3, the final novel in my dystopian erotic romance trilogy. If you enjoy intensely provocative sex with a power play twist, handsome male heroes in emotionally satisfying relationships, and unconventional happily ever afters -- you are in the right place! These books are full-length, publication-quality, and currently being offered free of charge. :)

Descriptions of each book can be found in my bio by clicking my user name. Feel free to drop in on specific chapters or sections based on your mood or interest, but the dramatic tension is strongest if you start from the beginning of Part 1. As always, I appreciate hearing your reactions and feedback. It truly does help me create the best stories that I can for readers to enjoy.

Content warning: This chapter depicts intense, distressing, and long-lasting emotions experienced with the loss of a relationship (breakup). Please proceed with caution and be gentle with yourself if this could be upsetting for you. Helpful resource: jedfoundation.org/resource/the-painful-truth-about-breakups

Tags for this chapter include: #bisexual male, #future, #dystopia, #novel, #romantic, #gay romance, #married, #male submissive, #friends

_______________

Julian:

A couple of weeks after the extravagant celebration of my fourth anniversary with Avery, Graham was over at our quarters again, as he frequently was when community responsibilities didn't demand our attention elsewhere. Avery and I could have gone to his place instead, but since there were two of us and only one of him, it made more logistical sense for him to trek across Fort Laurel. He said he preferred being here anyway, since we'd accumulated more creature comforts over the years, whereas his room only contained what he'd been able to carry on the journey from his former base in California, plus a few basic amenities.

The three of us continued to enjoy lively sexual encounters on a regular basis, not yet having come close to exhausting our lust or curiosity for experimentation together. Power play and structured games featured when they suited us, but by no means did we limit our activities to those specific modes. This evening hadn't been anything too special, but it certainly left us all satisfied.

"You staying tonight?" Avery asked Graham, who was taking his turn at our wash basin. My partner had ended up to my right and was hunting down his trunks, which he located under the nightstand. I handed him the bottle of lube and small towel to put away while he was there.

"If it's alright with both of you," the captain replied, looking over his shoulder to each of us for confirmation. In another moment he'd dried off and returned to the bed.

Graham had slept over on a number of occasions, enough that it was starting to feel routine for him to pull his briefs on and climb under the sheet with us. The late-summer nights were finally cooling off enough to get some use out of our light cotton quilt, but we wouldn't need the extra layer until we'd rested for a while.

Avery crawled over me to get to the center of the bed, where he always slept when Graham was here. They shared an easy, affectionate relationship that usually ended with Avery snuggled into the captain's arms for the night.

"Why do you always get to be in the middle?" I challenged playfully. The one time Graham had taken that position, on our anniversary, the results had been...not unwelcome.

My husband's explanation was blissfully unconcerned. "Because I want to be next to you, and I want to be next to Graham."

Our third partner shot me a conspiratorial glance and picked up my tone. "What if I want to be next to Julian?"

"Do you?" Avery asked, suddenly uncertain.

Graham shrugged and shared his trademark cocky grin with me, which made my lips quirk up too. "Wouldn't mind."

The enthusiasm drained from my partner. "Yeah, ok," he said, probably not intending to sound as devastated as he did. He ducked his head and started to climb back to my other side.

Graham responded immediately, reaching for Avery's arm with evident compassion. "Hey, come here." He pulled Avery toward him, encountering no resistance, until my partner was settled into his favorite position with his back against Graham's well-built chest. "I won't if it would bother you," the captain told him, entwining the slimmer body with a sturdy arm.

Avery didn't answer, but his pleased expression and contented nestling said plenty.

"Ok," Graham conceded warmly, kissing Avery's curly head. Then he grinned at me. "Spoiled, isn't he?"

I returned the gesture, feeling warm myself, and reached to turn off the light, but Avery's hand emerged to catch me. "Wait."

"What?"

He tugged my wrist and tilted his face up meaningfully. "Goodnight."

I couldn't help smiling again at the flirtatious set to his cheeks. I brushed my fingers there and kissed him sweetly. "Goodnight, babe."

Just as I turned back to the lamp, Graham piped up, insolent and enticing. "Where's my goodnight kiss, Major?"

I indulged him with another smile and leaned over to give his mouth an answer that was more spicy than sweet. "You're a bit spoiled yourself," I informed him afterward.

"Can't argue with that," he replied with a roguish glint in his striking emerald eyes.

"Go to sleep, boys," I bossed fondly, finally managing to switch the light off and settle down myself. Avery stayed where he was, but one hand wove into mine. The peaceful domesticity lulled me to unconsciousness in record time.

Autumn blew in with the first major storm to strike from the Gulf since Third Battalion arrived in the region. We'd established Fort Laurel far enough inland that most hurricanes had downgraded by the time they reached us, but with both air and sea significantly warmer than they had been in past centuries, storms had more staying power. At our latitude, they could maintain wind speeds of seventy, eighty, even ninety miles per hour, which was enough to sever branches, damage roofs, and blow down smaller structures.

The worst was the flooding. The fort had been sited in our best estimate of a well-drained area that included ample room for homes, livestock, and crops, but until the rains come, it's impossible to predict where water will stack up. These tropical systems can drop a meter within a few days, turning creeks and bayous into torrential rivers. Without the means to maintain mechanical distribution networks, communities must once again do what humans had done for hundreds of millennia: live near fresh water. But in the wreckage of planet Earth left behind by the industrial era, living near water can be almost as dangerous as living away from water.

We'd had a close call with major flooding a couple of years ago, so we were slightly better prepared this time, but much still depends upon the exact confluence of temperature, moisture, and wind. This storm was particularly hard on the military section of the fort, since the troops lived under canvas tents that, although they were woven to be durable in most conditions, could not withstand hurricane-force winds. We at least had some warning of the severe weather's approach, thanks to the military's access to networked data. But forecasts were nothing like they'd been in the heyday of satellite imagery and supercomputer modeling.

When the winds rose to dangerous speeds, Bravo and Echo Companies ended up scrambling to collapse their tents before the ropes and poles snapped. Days like that are simply exhausting: hour after hour of emergency efforts to salvage irreplaceable materials and protect the lives of people and animals, all while battling blinding rain, slogging mud, and punishing winds that tear away anything not nailed down. The nights offer no relief. Darkness only compounds the dangers, and with thousands of people trying to shelter in a very limited number of structurally-sound buildings, no one gets much sleep.

Despite our best efforts, we suffered a couple of tragic casualties: one of Echo Company's infantry received a traumatic head injury when a large tree limb snapped at just the wrong moment, and Fort Laurel lost a young farmhand who was swept down the creek and drowned while trying to save a stranded horse.

The losses put a damper on the annual harvest celebration, which ended up being postponed while we rebuilt fences and tried to air out flooded homes. Avery and I were lucky in that our building stayed intact, but that meant we had other community members crowded in with us until their own homes could be inhabited again. For a few days, we even stayed with Vik and Gavin so that a family with several young children could use our quarters. We hardly saw Graham outside of coordinating rescue and repair efforts.

The autumn festival was a tradition we'd started the year we established the fort. At that time, it was intended to be a supplementary outpost for the main community at Sabine Ridge, and the team I'd led included only about thirty people. After weeks of nearly continuous labor, we'd successfully established food supplies and shelter, and we took the opportunity for a day of rest and recreation. Avery and I had rather fond memories of the night we'd shared on that occasion, very early in our relationship.

After the entire community relocated here, the festival had been celebrated a bit sooner, at the beginning of October on the date we first camped at this site. The event wasn't as elaborate as the one held at the winter solstice, but there was feasting, a number of tournaments, and performances of various kinds. This year, due to the participation of several hundred soldiers, some additional contests and exhibitions had been planned. Third Battalion was still being supplied out of Fort Worth, and they'd agreed to trade some of their rations for a share of the feast. Members of our allied farming collective were also making the trip. They'd provided much of the grain and vegetables we'd be consuming, so it was only fair we included them.

On the day of the festival, Avery spent the afternoon with Rowan, Lamont, Tara, and Verity. He'd devoted a lot of time this year to his de facto goddaughter, who at fourteen months had apparently reached the stage where adults became fascinated with her responses to every new experience. Myself, I didn't see the appeal of watching a baby fuss over things it wouldn't even remember in an hour. Humans gained an advantage as a species by the fact that our brains take twenty-five years to develop. The first five are critical to long-term performance, but in my opinion, they're rather something to tolerate than to obsess over.

I didn't care how much time he spent with Verity as long as he didn't drag me into it, which he was considerate about. It still sometimes made me uneasy that he seemed to derive so much joy from supporting her upbringing, when I wasn't even slightly willing to raise any children of our own. I could only hope that participating in her life would help satisfy the paternal instinct for him.

Once I'd seen to the daily tasks of security and provision, I went to check in with Graham. The festival included live music outdoors through much of the afternoon and evening, offering a soundtrack to the array of sporting events and family activities. In addition to performing with his unit's cover band, he'd been recruited to join a civilian bluegrass group. When I found him, they were warming up near the main pavilion. He nodded in acknowledgement without breaking rhythm on his guitar. Bluegrass was not my taste, and it wasn't particularly Graham's either, but he enjoyed the challenge of mastering a new skill, and he'd raved over some of the techniques he'd learned from Jade, one of Fort Laurel's best guitarists, who was strumming beside him. Definitely not a style they'd have taught us in youth orchestra back in Portland.

"One minute, guys," he told the other string players when they finished their song, then stepped over to me. "Hey, Major." As usual, he referred to my rank for the purpose of affection rather than formality, as I did with him.

"All good on your end?" I asked.

"Yep," Graham confirmed, storing his pick between the guitar strings. "Watch has been set and no disturbances reported. The visiting farmers reached the western patrol just before I left base, so they should be arriving soon. You joining any reindeer games today? I'd bet you could take the prize in target shooting." His own words suddenly seemed to strike him with fresh meaning, and he continued enthusiastically before I could respond. "We should do that! You enter, I'll place that bet, and then I'll win too."

"I'm not personally interested in winning a prize by demonstrating my proficiency at ending lives. I don't need any more reminders. But Maurice's boxing match is next, so I'll be backing him."

"You're going to miss my performance to watch people smack each other in the face?" the captain complained good-naturedly.

"You didn't really think I was going to subject myself to folk music when it wasn't absolutely necessary, did you?" I countered.

Graham landed a playful punch on my shoulder. "You're such a snob, Demos. People have been composing folk music for way longer than rock and roll."

"What can I say? I was raised on Beethoven, but I prefer Black Sabbath. Many would consider that a low-brow exchange."

"Hey, Jade and I had a pretty heavy jam session the other day. She can handle your early metal stuff."

"Shame I'm not going to hear any today, then, isn't it?"

"I'll see if I can arrange a private concert for you," he laughed.

Later that night, after we'd consumed copious amounts of savory stews and slow-roasted root vegetables, and after prizes had been awarded for everything from soccer to relay races, a small group of us climbed to one of the empty guard platforms: Maurice and Iris, the two veterans who had originally joined me in migrating to Louisiana, plus myself, Graham, and his counterpart Rae, commander of Echo Company. From here, we could carry on a conversation without yelling and still watch the festivities below. I could see Avery down in the crowd with a pack of his friends, all breaking out into some sort of line dance. He'd likely be there until the last revelers straggled home.

I still found Rae's personality to be a taste I'd yet to acquire, but she'd stood up very well to the recent emergency conditions. She'd proven capable of quick, strategic decisions under pressure and had inspired her troops to maintain both discipline and morale. Why Graham considered her to be a close personal friend was more of a mystery.

"How's Shawna doing?" Rae asked Iris, referring to her partner of nearly two years. The pair had decided to conceive a child with the help of a male friend. "Getting close to halfway, isn't she?"

"Yes, eighteen weeks along. She's doing well," Iris replied. "I wouldn't want to go through it myself, but she says it's the most alive she's ever felt."

"Kudos to you guys," Rae emphasized. "I can do firefights, food shortages, and natural disasters all day. But screaming infants and toddlers, demanding attention to their bodily functions around the clock?" She raised both hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm out."

"Can't believe you're going to deprive the next generation of this world-class pilot DNA," Graham joked, nudging Rae's shoulder. "There are few enough of us as it is."

"And what about you?" she returned in her typical animated fashion. "I don't see you settling down and rearing any Lansing cubs. Major Demos here has flawless genes, but you're not going to get any babies out of him."

Surprisingly, her jab appeared to have hit a mark, though I wasn't quite certain what it was. Graham's sarcastic reply sounded more discomfited than I would have expected for one of Rae's habitual irrational statements.

"Thank you for that biology lesson, Larsen. I'll be sure to let you know if I need help identifying a breeding partner."

"I for sure ain't raising it, but I've told you before..." She did one of her saucy smirks while wagging a thumb between herself and Graham several times. "We'd make damn beautiful babies, wouldn't we?" She looked around at the rest of us for confirmation, but no one was especially enthusiastic.

"Honestly, though," she continued undeterred, "the two of you would make beautiful babies too." Her glance indicated me and Graham. "If you go back west, Major, you should see if Blair would carry for you. Then you and Graham could raise it -- the perfect little aristocratic warrior. How adorable would that be: the Demos dark hair and pouty lips, with the Lansing green eyes and delicate nose..."

The other captain looked even more uncomfortable, and his brow furrowed. "You take too many blows to the head in that boxing match, Rae? Julian is married, remember? If he had any children, it would be with his own spouse. And it's none of your concern whether they do."

Mercifully, Maurice stepped in to steer the conversation away from Rae's hare-brained machinations, and we moved on to discuss the controversial finish to the volleyball tournament, which had hinged on a hotly-contested line call.

I didn't stay out much longer; noise and small talk were nearly as tiring for me as hurricane winds and rain. I headed back to our room, which was finally free of guests, and crashed hard. For once I didn't wake up even when Avery climbed into bed sometime in the early hours.

We granted ourselves a late start the morning following the festival, but after that, there was much work required to make up for the days and supplies we'd lost due to the storm. The beginning of autumn was always busy, even when we weren't dealing with destructive weather. Despite the fact that we'd only just gotten a respite from the summer's heat, the forest was already showing signs of winter's approach, when many food sources would go dormant. There was no time to spare if we were to collect and store enough to get us through those barren months.

Between the long rotations and busy evenings coordinating with other community leaders, a couple of days passed before Graham and I had a chance to speak again. He pulled me aside after that morning's training session, a particularly demanding set of bodyweight exercises that imparted the familiar satisfying burn of maintaining peak physical condition. The cool autumn breeze was welcome against my exertion-dewed skin.

"Hey, I wanted to apologize for Rae's comments the other night," he said when we'd toweled off the worst of the sweat. "She has no filter; she doesn't understand the merit of having one. It makes her an incredible pilot but thorny in social situations."

"No need to apologize," I replied. "I don't take any of her ramblings seriously."

"Ok." He watched his soldiers head to their stations in the crisp slanting sunlight, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. When he turned to me again, his tone was more cautious. "Look, I'm not sure exactly how this goes, in a situation like ours. But I wanted to let you know that...Jade and I have started seeing each other."

He watched for my reaction, but I didn't have enough information to generate one. After a moment, he went on.

"It's just casual, right now...we're just hanging out, seeing if there's potential for anything more. She obviously knows about my relationship with you and Avery." He shifted his pack on his shoulder. "She's really talented -- not just musically, but also with math and mechanics. She's been working with my unit on adapting our systems to the weather conditions here, and she's kind of a genius."

"Yes, she's a valuable asset to the community," I agreed.

Again, his gaze lingered on my face as if monitoring for concerns, but I merely waited to see if he had more to say.