After the End Ch. 19

This was the kind of conversation I'd been hoping to have. I kept listening while Avery continued.

"But eventually I realized that whether or not Julian was interested in someone else had nothing to do with whether he loved me and wanted to be married to me. Then it didn't bother me at all, when he did stuff with Vik. It made me feel good, that Julian was getting to have fun and do things he couldn't with only me. And that's how it's been with you and him. I haven't been jealous. It would just be different, that I wouldn't be there. I always was, with Vik."

"We will certainly respect your feelings about it," I affirmed. "It helps to know where you're at."

Avery's voice turned more shy. "You...want to? Sleep with him alone?"

"I do," I told him honestly. "But it's not about leaving you out." I pondered for a moment how to explain. "You and I are similar in some ways, but I think my connection with you is more similar to Julian's with you, whereas Julian's connection with me is quite different from his with you. Which mostly has to do with the fact that I'm older than him, I share his background, and I know about his past -- as in, not because he's told me, but because I was there. I've witnessed his career highs and lows, I was acquainted with his family, and there's a lot I can understand without him needing to try to explain. So there's a different side of him that I only see when we're alone, and I'd like to see more of it."

"Well that makes me kind of jealous. But not in a bad way. I just wish I got to know him like that."

"Every relationship brings out a certain dimension in someone. And I think that's what's brilliant about a triad -- you get to express multiple dimensions at the same time."

"That's true," Avery agreed. I wondered if he was going to ask if I wanted to sleep with him alone, but he didn't. "Will you stay for a while?" he asked instead.

"Of course, baby. I can stay for the rest of your shift, if you'd like."

"Yeah. Maybe." By his tone, he was remembering the alarming experience from earlier, when he'd thought I was trying to take advantage of him.

I swallowed another apology. "Did you want to ask me anything else? Or should we move on?"

We did end up moving on from the subject, and I did stay until midnight. As much as I'd regretted coming to visit him during those first few minutes, I was very thankful afterward.

The final week of January was a bustle of long days tethered around conference tables or trekking through the dormant woods, relieved by sweet hours spent with my two lovers, in conversation or in bed. Between training, resupply, recon, and preparing for spring offensives, we didn't have a lot of downtime, unlike the leafless trees and vines.

A supply convoy arrived at the Barksdale base that week, after crawling its way along the deserted southern interstate from Fort Worth. I took a joint force of soldiers and Fort Laurel civilians to pick up our portion from the depot at Coushatta, on the banks of Red River a day's march west. The town was in ruins now, but it controlled the most usable bridge still standing for thirty kilometers in either direction, so we kept a garrison in readiness there.

Avery met us at sundown to help unload, then he followed me to the main hall for a late dinner. It wasn't until he took a place beside me at one of the long oak benches that I realized he hadn't picked up any food.

"You didn't want anything?" I asked, my own bowl heaped with spicy lentil stew and cornbread.

The shrug he returned was nonchalant, but the subtly shy smile and quick, transparent glance betrayed his motives. "I ate earlier."

My expression softened along with the center of my chest. "You didn't have to come with me, then. I'm perfectly capable of eating on my own."

"I know," he told me, as if it wasn't already obvious that he had no interest in being anywhere else. When I reached my free arm to squeeze his shoulders, he gravitated even closer, and I pressed my lips briefly at his temple.

Julian returned from reviewing his own guards and joined us a few minutes later, devouring his dinner with the speed habitual to the armed forces. Nothing haunts those frigid nights on emergency patrol like the memory of a hot meal wasted.

"Are you free for another half-hour or so?" I directed across the table. "We could use your eyes on some of the equipment we just picked up. It's not what I'm used to working with, but it's all they could manage to ferry out to this godforsaken swamp."

Julian returned my good-natured complaint with his own brand of sardonic teasing. "You've been living here for eight months. Haven't you noticed yet that we're quite far from any swamps?"

"Nowhere that's not a swamp has a right to be this damned muddy all the time," I informed him with a grin.

"Yes, I'm free," was all he said in reply, but the faint curve of his full lips and depth of glimmer around his aquamarine irises added a great deal of meaning that kept me distracted for several moments.

"You're welcome to join us, Avery," I invited when I refocused. The younger man had stayed near enough to maintain continuous physical contact, even if it was just his knee or elbow resting against me. Which he often did, regardless of the setting. And which I never discouraged.

"I would, but I told Lamont I could help him turn the compost piles tonight, so I'll do that while you're gone."

"Sounds good."

Julian walked with me toward the large tent on base where specialists were still unpacking the gear we'd received from Barksdale. He was a true triple threat of elite education, extensive field experience, and well-above-average native abilities, so even though he no longer actively served in the military, my job would have been far more difficult without his constant availability as a sounding board. The pair of enlisted service members posted at the gate snapped a salute and bid us good evening as we passed, waiting for my answering salute before returning to attention.

The settlement had quieted down for the evening by the time we headed back, with lights burning in most of the domicile windows and only the occasional resident coming and going along the main pathways between fire pits. We made a detour to check the status of repairs to a section of the southern stockade, which had been damaged when a recent thunderstorm felled an ancient tree on top of it, knocking down a key watchtower. We could have avoided that threat by clear-cutting the interior of the fort, but that would have significantly decreased the natural rate of rain absorption, leading to more problems with flooding. A tradeoff no one wanted to make, given the strength of tropical storms coming off the Gulf in the twenty-second century.

Julian and I examined the newly-placed beams by flashlight and determined which ones could bear our weight before climbing up. The top of the tower was unfinished and wasn't yet manned, but we could see the next set of sentries a few dozen meters away on either side.

"You and Avery seem to be getting along well," my companion commented once we'd dropped back to the ground, his handsome Mediterranean features distantly lit by the flickering orange flames.

I leaned one shoulder against the rough-hewn wall. "God, Julian, I honestly don't understand how it's possible that we both ended up here, exactly where he happened to be. I thought I'd been in love before, but Avery's...truly special. What he's chosen to give me... I can't even describe what it means to me."

Julian's reply was rich with congenial amusement. "I am familiar with the feeling."

No one was nearby, so I moved closer and spoke more earnestly. "Thank you, seriously. For being willing to share. Most people wouldn't even consider it."

"It isn't a sacrifice. It pleases me to see him so happy." His voice grew softer, more intimate. "And you."

The need to kiss him struck from deep in my belly. I laid one hand at the back of his neck, angled his head down, and melded my lips to his. He responded with the tentative eagerness I'd come to expect -- his mouth welcoming, unresisting, yet still held in check. Unwilling or unable to fully give himself to me.

"For the record," I pulled away enough to murmur, "if you think your strong-and-silent act is keeping me from falling just as much in love with you...it isn't."

He stared at me for a moment, and then he was kissing me again, but now with force and tongue and hands pulling me tight to his body. I followed suit, gripping him heedlessly, while something in my rib cage went soaring into the stratosphere. We were both hot and hard and breathing heavy by the time we managed to pry our mouths apart.

"I want you," he whispered against my jaw.

"I want you too," I assured him, the craving stark in my voice.

His head tilted back so he could see my face, and his inflection changed. "Inside," he said, as if it were a clarification.

It took my lust-addled brain a second to interpret, but when I did, a nuclear-strength explosion of heat surged through me. I couldn't afford to make assumptions about something this important, though. "You want...what inside?"

Without hesitation, he slid a hand between our hips to palm my erection. "You."

Fucking hell. I was already throbbing, and he wasn't even doing anything. "Take me home then," I managed to get out, and after another core-melting kiss, he did.

Avery was there when we arrived, thankfully. Julian asked him to step outside for a moment, so I didn't get to hear what was said, but it only made sense that they'd want a private discussion before taking this unprecedented step with me. Meanwhile I sat at the edge of the bed, stewing in nerves and anticipation that bordered on queasiness. I was about to be only the second person ever to consensually penetrate him, and remembering what made that so difficult -- the horrific violence he'd suffered at the hands of our classmates -- turned my stomach. Avery had told me that his first attempt at topping Julian had been pretty rocky. They'd worked through it, and by now Julian had a fair amount of experience receiving, but still. There was no guaranteeing what would happen with someone who wasn't his husband.

When the door opened again, I searched anxiously for cues, but they both appeared at ease. Avery sat beside me, and though he didn't say anything, his self-conscious expression conveyed pride above anything else.

"You ok with this, little one?" I prompted.

"Yeah, of course. I'm...really happy for you guys." He glanced across me to where Julian waited, passion once again corralled beneath a veneer of patience. "I offered to leave so he can be with you alone, but he asked me to stay. Would you...mind?"

"Not at all," I replied fondly, then turned to Julian. "Whatever you need, please tell us, alright?" I could have said more, offered more explicit support, but I didn't want to overburden the moment. Just because I knew he was a survivor, that didn't mean it was my place to bring his painful experiences to the forefront or to treat him like he was made of glass. It was probably best to let him lead.

He nodded without engaging the subject. "I've already apologized to Avery for breaking the rules."

"Oh, right." I directed a contrite look toward the aggrieved party. "I am sorry. I'm the newcomer -- I take full responsibility."

Our younger partner shrugged without meeting my gaze. "Bound to happen eventually," was his only comment.

"Anything either of you wants to discuss?" I asked next. It had always been our custom to go through plans, preferences, and limits before starting new sexual activities.

Avery looked to his husband before cautiously answering. "I would just suggest that Julian be on top, at least to start out with. It might...go better, that way."

"I would prefer that as well," I said. "Unless you feel differently, Julian."

"No, that's...fine."

He'd gone wary, as if the memories driving his need to avoid exposure had raised an automatic shield, so I reached for his face, and he allowed me to pull him into a gentle kiss. Gradually he warmed to me again, until his mouth was as hungry as mine.

I moved back and stroked his cheek, my heart hammering my ribs. I intended to say something encouraging, but suddenly I found I couldn't trust my voice. No words seemed sufficient to convey the magnitude of what I was about to share with this man I'd admired for so many years.

Instead, I pulled my tank top over my head and undid my pants so I could shuck them off. Then I lit one of the candles, switched off the lamp, and found the supplies. By the time I'd folded back the covers, Julian was bare and climbing in beside me.

I lay on my side facing him, and he did likewise. At first, all I could do was gaze at his sculpted shoulders and torso with their intricate inked adornments. It still beggared belief that someone so perfectly fashioned could actually belong to me, yet here he was. Watching me in the candle's shifting glow. Waiting for me to plunder his most secret place.

Reverently I stroked fingers across the hard muscle of his chest, pausing to trace the leather cord and polished brown semicircle pendant that represented his marriage. At his back, close but not encroaching, Avery wore its mate, a blue stone forming the other half of the circle. Even though it had nothing to do with me, something about Julian's choice to eschew traditional metal rings in favor of hand-crafted necklaces -- personalized to the exact color of each spouse's eyes -- strummed my heartstrings. Before I came to Louisiana, I never would have guessed he was capable of such a romantic gesture.

"If you want to slow down, or change your mind at any time, just let me know, Major," I told him softly.

In answer, he pulled me toward him, finding my lips and pressing our bodies together. All at once I stopped caring about the burden of his past or the history we were trying to make. There was only him: the nakedness of his flesh against mine; desire fueled by trust; surrender on a level far more precious than physical. I hadn't realized how intensely I'd been yearning for this kind of raw, unbounded connection with him.

Sooner than I expected, I found myself on my back with Julian straddling my thighs. When he reached for the lube and poured some into his palm, another kick of excitement hit my stomach.

"You don't -- want my fingers?" I asked unsteadily as his slick fist slid over my rock-solid shaft, painting sensual delight everywhere he made contact. He'd let Avery finger him in front of me once, and god had it been hot to watch Julian open his legs and take the digits up his ass. Plus how hard he'd come with his husband caressing that magic spot inside. I'd thought he might prefer to warm up that way.

"Not tonight." His hand lingered for another few strokes, massaging in the oil extra-thoroughly and sending ripples of need through my center, until finally he shifted forward and suspended himself over me.

"Take your time, ok?" I'd always liked this position because it left both of my hands free; I ran them across his powerful deltoids and down his arms. "I won't move until you say I can."

He gave me a quick nod, and then his sphincter was stretching around the tip of my eager organ.

"Oh, yes --" I couldn't help exclaiming as his tight channel swallowed the first couple centimeters. The velvety heat and compression felt amazing, and the mindfuck was just as intense: Major Julian Demos, military royalty, a revolutionary revered or hated by tens of thousands, was taking my cock up his ass.

I watched in awe while he tensed and released, thrust and withdrew, until his body had yielded enough to bury me deep within. He stayed there for a minute, box breathing and waiting for his muscles to adjust. Despite how distracting the encompassing pleasure of his back chamber was, I kept diligently still and reminded myself that this was much more about him than it was about me.

"How are you doing?" I asked. "Is this feeling ok?" I'd kept my hands resting on him, hoping that would ground him without being overly stimulating.

"Yeah," he agreed tersely.

"If you lean down a little more, I can kiss you, but feel free to stay wherever is comfortable."

There was another hesitation before he brought his torso more parallel to mine so I could reach his mouth. That put very exciting pressure on my sheathed cock, but I was careful not to make any motion that could hurt or startle him. These kisses were as emotionally fervent as they were lustful, and I thought my chest might explode from the profound, multi-dimensional experience of being so intimately joined with him.

"You can move," he told me after a minute, and I noted that he was only partially erect.

I ran my palm over the expanse of his back, the tattooed lines permanently engraved yet imperceptible to the touch. "I can let you do it."

He shook his head. "Want you to."

"Tell me if I need to back off or do anything differently," I requested and got another nod of confirmation.

I settled my hands at his hips, both for control and so I could feel how he was responding. Cautiously I pulled out a bit and thrust back into his channel, then did it again. Lord, it was good to massage my rod inside his muscular ass, the sensation so much more intense than any other form of sex, even vaginal. Exhilarating bliss coursed through me, as much psychological as physical. Yet when I focused on my partner, the pattern of his labored breathing indicated distress rather than excitement, and though he'd dropped his head to where I couldn't really read his expression, the lines of his body had grown strained.

"Julian?" I asked with concern, pausing my motion. "Hey, what's wrong?" The last thing I wanted was to create a new traumatic memory with my own penetrating tool.

He merely ground his hips against mine. "Don't stop," he said in a tense voice that didn't reassure me at all.

I didn't resume thrusting. "If this is upsetting you..."

"I don't -- want you to stop," he insisted, still breathing too shallow, as if he were fighting a battle with enemies I couldn't see.

I vacillated, trying to figure out what would do the least damage -- obeying his verbal instructions, or listening to his body's signals -- until he turned to my left, where his partner had been observing unobtrusively.

"Avery --" he appealed, and when I followed his gaze, they appeared to be having one of their silent exchanges.

"It's ok, Graham," Avery concluded. He moved closer so he could lay a hand between Julian's shoulder blades, but his words were directed at me. "He's not upset. He needs you."

Well, Avery had done this plenty of times, so I figured his read would be accurate. I returned my attention to the man I was impaling and let my hands drift soothingly over his skin. Compassion and admiration filled me, that Julian wanted to be with me badly enough to face the demons that still awakened when someone invaded his body. I could only imagine how horrible that original experience must have been, if it was still affecting him eighteen years later. Of all his exceptional achievements, overcoming that assault was surely one of the most significant.

"It's alright," I murmured as reassuringly as I could. "I'm here." I still worried about causing more harm, but I didn't want to contravene his stated wishes, so I started moving again -- short, rocking strokes that would provide stimulation without being aggressive.

He responded well, syncing into rhythm with me and drawing his head toward mine, as if seeking more affection.

Encouraged, I gave it to him, with my hands and my voice and apparently also with my cock in his ass. My fingers combed the short textured strands of his dark hair, which I'd always suspected would be curly if he ever let them grow long enough. "I've got you, sweetheart. You're safe with me. I would never hurt you."