Disclaimer: This story and all of the characters and situations are fictional. It contains gay male erotic material. If this is not your forte, please close this page and find something more suiting to your desires.
Again, I am pleased to bring my readers another chapter in this continuing saga. And I appeal to you, reminding you that every author on this site is driven by your votes and comments. I am not different. So, please remember to vote and comment at the end of the chapter. Thank you so very much.
They entered the spacious room. Jonathan was in Tony's arms. Tucked securely to his side the youth had his head resting on his shoulder, his arms latched around the man's trim waist. He was led directly to the far bed where they both kicked off their shoes stretching out together. Greg felt the need to join them comin up behind Jonathan's body.
Bruce and Peter glanced at each other having the same thought at the same time.
"C'me on…" Bruce motioned his head to the door with a grin.
They made their way down the hall of doors that lined both sides of the motel. Coming to the elevator, they stepped in as the doors opened and to the back of it standing there silently for a moment. The doors closed. Bruce stepped forward touching the ground floor button.
"It's nice to just hear some quiet for a change," he commented as he moved back to the rear wall beside Peter.
"Yes, I had hoped we could spend some time alone," the man informed him in an almost whisper.
Bruce now eyed him curiously. "Did you want to--"
"No, Bruce." Peter lifted a hand halting his query instantly. His full lips turned up into a rich smile. A slow shake of his head produced itself. "I am not ready to display my…affections, so openly," he explained.
Bruce chuckled. "Sorry, man. We've gotten so used to it; it's just how we live."
"I understand. And I'm pleased that you do. In fairness, I'm not ready for it just yet." Peter moved closer to Bruce but did nothing more.
"I don't think you're even sure you want this, Peter." the man looked to him tempted to drape an arm about his shoulders. But he didn't, not wanted to frighten him.
"Correct again, Bruce. I'm not. But I do know I care deeply for you." he volunteered right away.
"One step at a time, Peter. If you rush, you might be sorry." he warned.
The man nodded moving back to the spot he had originally been standing as the doors opened again. Bruce looked at him grinning. He understood Peter's reservations and would never try to pressure him in any way. But his body was thrumming with heat and titillation of desire for the man.
Quickly, he suppressed his longing and need as they stepped out of the elevator and around the corner. Once again, Peter stopped admiring the huge fountain in the center of the lobby. Then, he followed Bruce out the back door into the courtyard that was filled with shapely hedges, paths and flowerbeds.
They meandered along the paths for a long while talking to each other. Then the subject turned to Jonathan.
"I don't understand Jonathan's reaction to me tonight. He's never talked to me like that before." Bruce openly expressed knowing Peter know more about Jonathan than any of the rest of them. Except maybe Tony.
"Something startled him. I overheard him saying to himself, '…I know I'm not crazy…' Then in the same breath he said, 'I saw it. I know I saw it.'"
"Saw what, Peter? What did he see?" Bruce halted their forward motion turning to him to ask.
"I do not know. He would not say," the man returned simply.
"But you asked him?" Bruce pressed to be sure.
"Yes, of course I asked. But when Jonathan does not wish to talk, pushing him will only serve to cause him to enclose himself completely within himself. He will tell one of us when he is ready," the man assured him with a gentle nod.
Bruce stared at him for a moment. It was the first time he understood why Jonathan had clammed up on them so many times before. And they had only been meaning to help him. They knew he had issues with self-mutilation and self-injury that they all had desperately tried to understand. But as soon as they had begun to pressure him into talking about it, he would seal himself up so tightly that none of them could get him to talk then.
Even though he now knew this and realized the truth, he still had that deep desire to just shake it out of him, if he could. But he had never done this and knew he never would. He just wanted Jonathan to be open with them about everything. It was the only way anyone could help him get through all of this.
"He will talk, my friend." Peter grasped his shoulders in both hands. "You must have faith. He never holds it in for long. It may come as a question, or perhaps an inquiry of advice. But he will open himself to one of us soon. We all must be patient with him," he leaned down a bit catching eye contact with Bruce who smiled through his worry.
Bruce nodded agreeing with him fully. Peter's hand came up to cup a cheek. His eyes locked onto Bruce's. His thumb caressed the skin that was covering his cheekbone. They both could see the affect of it in the other's stare. The contact was a mutual desire that rose in them both threatening to overwhelm them. Peter almost leaned his head toward the man for a light kiss. His powerful sudden urge to do so startled him somewhat. And yet he knew he wanted to lean into him. He was more than aware of the curiosity he had for this man. A strong cognizance of his desires to feel Bruce's arms around him, his body pressed to him closer than it had been that day in the forest, was overcoming him. A strange intoxication of sensation was rising within him fast.
Bruce stared at him watching the changes reflecting in Peter's eyes. It seemed strange to him that he could read them so easily and knew what was going on behind those lovely transparent irises. And even though he wanted to reach up and grasp Peter's arms, he didn't. He only stood there gazing into the deep richness of emotion that was being poured out to him in the man's gaze. If any moves were made, Peter would make the first. He would not be guilty of persuading the man to his downfall, in the event he might regret it later.
"I'm sorry, Bruce…" Peter dropped his hands moving on ahead of him quickly.
"There's no need to apologize, Peter. I…" He caught himself about to tell him he enjoyed it, as he stepped up behind him coming along side of him.
"…You enjoyed my touch." Peter asked, completing his unfinished statement.
"Well, yes…" Bruce chuckled nervously. Inside he was screaming to him that he wanted so much more. But said nothing at all.
"I wanted…" Peter stopped again turning to Bruce looking at him squarely once more. Frustration at his inhibitions forced him to sigh long. "I wanted to kiss you," he informed him then.
"I know, Peter." Bruce cocked his head to one side a bit with a slightly sympathetic expression. "It'll come when you're ready. I won't push you. I promise."
Peter nodded. "I know you wouldn't. You are much too honorable to do such a thing."
"Thank you, Peter. Coming from you, that means so much to me." he admitted.
Peter sighed again. He glanced off to his left as he always does when something was troubling him.
"Talk to me, Peter." Bruce urged softly.
"That is what I desire, Bruce. I want us to talk. And I know you have many question to ask me. I am willing to answer as many as I have knowledge of." he volunteered.
"Okay…" Bruce perked then. Any time he could spend with this man was fine with him. And he loved hearing his voice and the thickness of his Russian accent.
He led them to a nearby bench where he sat offering for Peter to park next to him. The man did half turning to face him. "Ask, Bruce…" He urged then.
"How long have you and Tony known each other?" was his first query.
"Ah…" Peter smiled knowing he would have to give him some background on this one. "As you have been told already, Jim's operations were beginning to attract the attention of my government. Tony had already infiltrated the man's forces and was working undercover for his organization. But he was very confused at the time I met him first. It seemed Mr. Bowman was pouring on the charm with him attempting to lure him into his bed.
"I had need of someone reliable on the inside that could get me in. Tony and I made friends from the very beginning. I could tell he was not a criminal. He has a kind heart, though he refuses to allow those on the outside of his circle to see this. Only his closest friends and companions know his gentle side. You are lucky to have grown up with him and known him as you did. Or you may have never known him as you do…"
"I know…" Bruce agreed with a nod of his head.
"I befriended him after watching him for more than a month. One evening I saw him healthy and strong, the next, he was battered and terribly bruised. I took the chance to approach him that night…."
Tony was seated at a small round table outside a café right next to the motel he and Maurice were staying at. In his hand was a very small cup that he was nursing. Peter sat not two tables away watching the man who had naught but a simple tee-shirt and a pair of jeans on, his police issue revolver strapped around his waist.
The night before when he had seen him at this very place, he had been healthy, strong and glowing with vibrant manhood. But tonight was a much different story all together.
One eye was swollen shut. His lips and the face on the same side was cut and terribly bruised. A large reddened bite mark was left on the side of his neck. This suggested an abusive sexual relationship that perhaps Tony needed some advise about.
And his demeanor was not the same as it usually was. It seemed to Peter that this Tony appeared so very alone at the moment. And he thought to himself that it was time he befriend this man to help him if he could.
"Hello, Antonio Santini…" he slipped up on the table Tony was parked at nursing a hot cup of coffee.
