Free Lone Star by Josh Lanyon Page A

him, reassuring him. He didn’t need the reassurance really, it was just the surprise of it, his body relearning to accommodate Web, who felt so strange and so familiar at the same time. Web stayed still, giving him time.
    “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Web’s breath was warm against Mitch’s ear. “Special. Like nobody else.”
    Mitch shoved back. “Go on then.” They began to move in their own pas de deux , accompanied by the rustle of sheets, the pound of the headboard, the ping of the bedsprings.
    Sometimes, with Innis at least, it could turn competitive. Who got to be on top, who could thrust harder, go longer…sometimes it didn’t feel as much like making love as winning at sports. It had never been like that with Web, and it wasn’t like that now. Web was generous. Generous on a grand scale, generous like Texas was big. With every stroke, long or short, he aimed to please—and his aim was true.
    It felt so good…was that just superior technique or something more? The wonderful sensations peaked, and oh, the power and the glory of it…he was coming at last, every bone, muscle, nerve—every cell in his body—reborn in the blessing of beautiful release. Mitch cried out, smothering the sound against his forearm.
    Web held him tighter still, cradling him close, his own breathing fast and shallow. Mitch reached up awkwardly, trying for a kiss, and managing an awkward graze of mouths. He ground his hips and Web stiffened and began to come.
    Mitch smiled faintly at the uninhibited shout Web gave, arms and thighs locked around him as his seed spurted out hot and sticky.
    All the nights he had gone to sleep in this cold house in this hard bed, comforting himself by imagining Web was with him. He’d never have realized under what circumstances the dream would finally come true.
    “Okay?” Web’s voice was gruff as they continued to hold each other, their bodies echoing the tiny shivers and gasps.
    Mitch nodded.
    “You want me to go?” Web asked a while later.
    Mitch turned his head on the pillow. “No.”
    After a time, he knew that Web slept. Mitch closed his eyes.
     
    Mitch gasped and sat up.
    First light picked out his suitcase, the faded squares where the posters of Baryshnikov had hung before his father ripped them down, the framed portrait of his mother on the dresser. The rest of the room was shrouded in soft gloom.
    “Whoa. Easy. Easy.” Web stroked his arm, gently tugging Mitch back under the blankets. “Did y’all forget where you were?”
    Mitch threw him a quick look. Web sounded wide awake. He looked wide awake. He reached a friendly arm around Mitch’s shoulders, pulling him to the pillow of his broad shoulder.
    Mitch shook his head, closing his eyes. He’d been sleeping so well up to that point. Maybe he could lower himself into that slipstream once more…
    The hammering of his heart slowed to its natural efficient rhythm. He could feel it pounding in counterbeat to the calm thump of Web’s as he settled his head on Web’s chest. Web’s golden chest hair tickled his nose, and he itched his face against Mitch.
    “What did you dream?” Web dropped a casual kiss on Mitch’s hair.
    Mitch thought back and started to laugh.
    “What?” Web asked, smiling.
    “I dreamed a reindeer was standing on my feet.” In fact, he could still feel the weight of it on his legs, but he now knew that heft was the heavy old quilt across the foot of the bed.
    Web’s chest jumped as he as he started to laugh. “What the hell is it with you and reindeer?”
    “I don’t know.” Mitch was still chuckling, keeping his eyes closed, still hoping he could fall asleep because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this warm and relaxed. For the first time in years, he really did feel like he was home.
    Web continued to stroke him in that lazy, soothing way. How long had he been awake? A while, for sure.
    “You sleep okay?” Mitch mumbled.
    “I slept great.”
    “That’s