The Talisman Wars Box Set

Chapter 10

Chapter 10Dakota moved away only long enough to slip out of his boxers. With condoms thoroughly secured and lubricant applied, he straddled Terrell. He used one hand to guide him and the other to steady himself as he slowly dropped down. They exhaled in unison as Terrell slid inside as far as he could go. His lips ajar, Dakota adjusted the angle and began cultivating a rhythm. One that he hoped would deliver adequate stimulation for both of them.

It got easier with repetition. He worked his hips and lower body into an undulation designed to please. And he did it all while supporting himself entirely with his own arms and legs. He couldn’t risk hurting Terrell. Instead of connecting with his pelvis, he pulled up a centimeter or so early. Before he knew it, Dakota received plenty of enjoyment in his own right. In fact, he found himself dangerously close to finishing. He grabbed his arm to let him know. Terrell looked surprised but overjoyed when Dakota inevitably came.

Part of him wanted to stop, to collapse at Terrell’s side and merely enjoy his orgasm. He felt exhausted, and the muscles in his legs and arms protested fiercely. But he reminded himself that the man beneath him lay at his mercy. It shouldn’t take too long, he thought, to finish him off.

Terrell’s eyes closed, and he moaned with nearly every breath. His hand clasped Dakota at his wrist. His left leg lifted up off the bed a little. Dakota picked up the pace, tightened his internal muscles, and watched for the telltale signs. A stronger grip, louder noises of pleasure. Only a few more repetitions should do it. C’mon, Terrell, he thought. Faster still. Deeper. He arched his back and held his hand.

There it was. Dakota couldn’t technically feel the difference, but the fact showed plainly on Terrell’s face, and in every part of him. Vulnerability. Unbridled bliss. Sweat beading on his face. His chin tilted up, and his back arched. A few moments later, everything about him relaxed.

Satisfied, he carefully lifted himself up and disconnected from him. He stripped off the loose-fitting latex, reached for a roll of paper towels he spied next to the bed, and delicately buried the evidence in a wad of the paper before using some to dry off. Terrell didn’t react at first. He merely lay there, breathing heavily, completely overwhelmed with what had happened. Dakota handed the roll over to him so that he could clean himself up if he wanted. He accepted the offer.

Dakota got up and searched for his clothes. “You don’t wanna stay?” Terrell eventually built up the courage to ask.

With his jeans halfway up his legs, Dakota stopped. He turned toward the naked man. “I can if you want.” He hadn’t really thought about it. He assumed—based on old information—that Terrell wouldn’t want his family to think they shared a room. But did it really matter now?

“What do you want?”

He let go of his pants, and they dropped to the floor. Stepping out of them, he strutted back toward the bed and leaned down. A deep kiss. “You.” He pressed his index finger into Terrell’s chest.

Terrell cracked a smile. “I could tell.” Another kiss. “You’re amazing. Oh my God, that was amazing.”

He climbed back into bed and kissed him at least a dozen more times. “I’m glad you think so.” Closing his eyes, he thought that curling up in Terrell’s arms would be an excellent way to fall asleep. The bed felt big and soft. The man? Warm and delightful. He didn’t want to trudge upstairs alone. Even putting on clothes again seemed like a chore.

Halfway into slumber, Terrell’s voice roused him. “Tomorrow, we should go into town.” With his lips grazing Dakota’s forehead, he spoke through locks of his hair.

“Groceries?” he asked sleepily.

Terrell nodded. “That, and…umm—” There was a pause as he seemed to choose his words carefully. “That, and there’s a clinic I was thinking maybe we could stop at. Get you checked out.”

The statement woke him up immediately. “Terrell, I’m fine.”

“I know you are. But I wanna make sure. If you’re sick, there’s medicine and treatments we can get you. And if you’re not—” He let out a sweet laugh. “Then we can celebrate!”

“You worried about me, or do you just have an aversion to latex?”

Terrell withdrew enough to make eye contact. “I don’t care about using condoms or not. I care about you. Of course I’m worried. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

The confirmation sent warmth through his whole body. “Okay. We’ll go in the morning.”

Terrell’s relieved expression was the last thing he saw before drifting off to sleep.

* * * *

They told the family they wanted to pick up some supplies—and cabin fever made the trip especially desirable. Eleanor objected, saying that yesterday’s attacker could still be lurking in the area. Even if he was, Terrell insisted, he’d be in no shape to attack them. They brought a couple guns as a precaution.

So long as the two stopped at a local grocery store before returning, the rest of their day could be used for whatever they wanted. A romantic lunch, Eddie suggested, or passive reconnaissance in town. Even with the morning freed up for a clinic visit, Dakota couldn’t help but let his mood sour as they climbed onto Terrell’s motorcycle and took off for their destination. Lying about it made him feel shameful or dirty. The only thing worse was the idea that the family might find out.

When they arrived at the small office, only three other people sat in the waiting room: a young Latino kid—coughing now and then—his patient mother, and a skinny-yet-muscular white guy with a hand wrapped haphazardly in a bloodied towel. By their clothes and general appearances, all three looked too poor to afford insurance. Dakota knew that life well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had decent healthcare coverage.

But anonymity caused their trip today. He had no personal, private doctor, and he didn’t want to bet on some country bumpkin with a loud mouth, telling all his normal patients about a newcomer who needed testing for STDs.

For the checkup, a stout little nurse who wore hot pink scrubs performed the basics, plus a urine sample. For the blood draw, she invited Terrell to sit next to Dakota, “for support, of course!” Not that he needed it.

Dakota didn’t flinch when the needle pierced his skin. Nonetheless, Terrell looked green around the edges. “No problem with a blood draw, huh?” he asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “This is nothing. I could do it myself if I had to.”

“Was it drugs? Is that why you know how to use needles? It’s okay, Dakota. You can tell me.” And the nurse was bound by doctor-patient privilege.

He wished it was drugs. An addiction would be preferable to what actually happened. Sleepless nights. Missed school days. Pill counting. Feeding, cleaning up—watching her suffer. Slowly, disgustingly losing all control over her own body. Fighting the insurance company. Begging the hospital to help pay for treatments. Fighting a losing battle. Watching her die. Arranging a shitty funeral on what little money they had left. Without any help from anyone.

Being alone. In a trailer full of empty pill bottles and the persistent stench of antiseptic, which refused to leave no matter how long he kept the windows open.

“My mom died from multiple sclerosis about a year ago,” he tried to explain without crying. “I mean, it was an infection, but she got it because of M.S. I’ve never done drugs in my life, Terrell. Not even cigarettes. I used to give her steroids. She didn’t like to inhale the stuff, so I injected it. That’s how I know, okay? I gave my mother medicine. I took care of her, and she died. I’m not a junkie.” Dakota could hear his voice cracking, and he swore under his breath.

His mother was Sioux. Wahpeton, to be specific. His first name acted as a weird tribute to his heritage—his white father’s idea. But he lived alone with his mother in a trailer in Maryland. She was his whole life.

Stunned, Terrell’s face filled with guilt and sympathy. “Oh, man. I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know. s**t, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s why I was a year late to college,” he continued without looking at him. “You must’ve wondered. I’m nineteen. She died right after finals, and I was too busy before and after to apply.” At the time, he honestly had no interest in becoming an undergrad. His mother always wanted him to go, used to say it all the time. He could do anything if he put his mind to it.

Idealistic bullshit only mothers said. With her gone, he lost the ambition. He didn’t enjoy being alive. His only hobby became s****l encounters—with practically any guy who showed him even the slightest interest.

Dakota only applied to that school at the behest of his elder sister, who lived with her own family. She did half the application for him and even set up the interview. He needed something to keep him busy, she said. He needed a positive distraction. But she saw the writing on the wall. She knew he’d end up dead, one way or another, with the path he was on. She didn’t want to see her baby brother die, even though she showed little more than mild discomfort at her own mother’s passing.

If she had been there for the illness and everything that came with it, she might’ve seen how pointless sending him off to college would be. A giant chunk of his spirit vanished, long before he set foot on campus.

Then again, he never would have met Terrell if he didn’t agree to it.

As the nurse finished the procedure, Dakota calmed down. Terrell had no way of knowing what happened, and drugs made more sense. Suicidal people did them all the time. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said eventually. “It’s a sore subject.”

Terrell gulped. “It must’ve been awful, going through all that.”

To put it mildly.

With the last vial filled up, the nurse removed the tube from Dakota’s arm and placed a bandage on top of the wound. “Hold that there. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.” With that, she collected the precious containers of blood and carried them away.

Changing the subject, he asked, “You really like being with me?” Miserable, morose, angry. And on top of it all, he could be diseased. Would Terrell still want to be with him if it turned out he had HIV?

Probably.

“Absolutely,” Terrell’s face brightened up. “No matter what happens.”

“We barely know each other,” he warned. Terrell seemed so attached already. Smitten.

Terrell’s expression turned serious again, and he pursed his lips. “I don’t know if that’s true or not. We haven’t known each other for very long, but look at everything we’ve been through! I think that’s more important. I feel safe with you. I feel like I can trust you. And when I look at you, all I wanna do is be around you, and find a way to keep you with me. I dunno. Maybe I’m getting ahead of things, but I feel like there’s nothing bad enough to ruin this.”

He was getting ahead of things. Big time. It felt weird and unhealthy for Terrell to want him and like him so strongly this early. But Dakota loved the attention. Loved it. He enjoyed his moments with Terrell, both s****l and emotional. They shared things few other people knew about, on both sides. And he didn’t want to break his heart, either.

“You’re really sweet,” he managed in return.

Terrell looked away abruptly. “I talk too much.”

“Let’s just take things one day at a time, okay? I think I’m still trying to adjust.” He lowered his voice considerably. “I mean, I’m wearing a couple of magic necklaces, and there’s a freakin’ gun in my jacket.” And he hardly had any interest in using it on himself! “My whole life has changed. I’m just feeling a little dizzy.”

“Having a bunch of blood drawn probably didn’t help,” Terrell added, probably trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed. “Yeah.”

The nurse returned and taped a fresh bandage down on his arm. “All your results will be ready in two to three days, hon. You can call early for the HIV test if you’re worried. That one only takes twenty-four hours.” She patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “No need to come in if you don’t test positive. If you do, don’t worry. We’ll get you some good treatments. We may be a small place, but we provide great care here.”

“Thanks.”

Dakota rose to his feet, and both of them headed for the door.