Everyday Hero Box Set

Seventh Inning Stretch-8

After a long day spent behind the wheel of his bus, navigating through downtown traffic and trying unsuccessfully to will away the dull ache that had settled into his balls, Vic wanted nothing more than a hot shower, a soft bed, and the warm body of his lover beside him. Well, no, he’d like a lot more than just that—Matty above him, in him, for starters—but he’d settle for what he could get. He’d agreed to hold off because he knew, though his lover would never admit it, that deep down, Matt felt more than a little inferior to Vic. Yes, he loved Vic’s strength, and he realized the powers that gave Vic his superhuman abilities stemmed from no other source than himself, but that was a bitter pill when it was Vic always in harm’s way, the center of attention. The powers angered Matt because they put Vic in danger, true, but a very small part of him, so tiny that Vic only glimpsed it from time to time, grew jealous of the powers—they were his, that little voice inside Matt reasoned, and Vic had heard it once or twice before his lover managed to strangle it down. The powers belonged to him. So why didn’t he get any of the glory?

Vic didn’t want the powers—he didn’t need them. He’d change places with Matt in a moment if he could, but it didn’t work that way. The one time they’d switched positions in bed and Vic had been on top, Matt had only ended up with a vicious migraine from the feedback he received through Vic’s sperm, and their mental connection had snapped. Never again, both had sworn. Vic liked getting f****d; while it had meant the world to him that Matt gave him his anal virginity, something he’d given no other, he himself needed to feel the fullness in his bowels, the pressure against his prostate, to get him off. And while it had been nice to top Matt for once, it hadn’t been worth losing their psychic bond.

Matt didn’t want to play the charity ballgame as much as he wanted to win. And if he couldn’t take advantage of Vic’s powers for his own team, he didn’t want to be up against them, either. Vic could understand that—he’d learned to control the super strength and telepathy, but only through constant vigilance. He didn’t want the added pressure of a stadium full of spectators as he tried to cope with some new power. At the gym, with others around, it was easy to put on a stoic face and keep Matt at bay. But here, alone in the car, with his d**k beginning to throb again at his crotch, it wasn’t so easy being strong. And when he was home, with Matt? Sweet Jesus, but it was downright torturous to lie beside his lover, nude flesh pressed together, every fiber of his being crying out for more as they lay entwined together.

Only a few more days. It wasn’t much assurance, but it was all he had. With any luck, the gym’s staff would lose their first game and things between the lovers could return to normal. Not that Vic wanted Matt to lose, really, but damn it the hell, he wanted his man back something fierce.

His route home on the interstate took Vic past the Diamond, the unused stadium downtown where the charity event was being held. Rows of lights still illuminated the field, but a quick glance as he drove by showed the stands mostly empty at this late hour, and Vic reached out with his mind to see if he could connect with Matt’s. He couldn’t. Which meant his lover waited for him at home. In the minute it took to drive by, Vic couldn’t pick up much information from the minds he brushed over. The first game had gone into extra innings, he knew, but no one knew anything about the teams themselves to remember which had won. The current game was in the final inning, and from the yellow T-shirts one team wore, Vic suspected they were affiliated with Gold’s Gym. Then an 18-wheeler merged onto the highway in front of him and broke Vic’s concentration.

Off the interstate, winding through residential streets deserted so late in the evening, Vic reached out with his mind again, this time keeping it open as he trailed over others’ thoughts on his way home. The power was dwindling—he couldn’t stretch out his mind as far as he’d been able to just a few days before. Each time he used the telepathy, it weakened, and without a boost from Matt—without s*x, to tell it straight—he thought maybe the power would fade completely over time.

But he still shared a special connection to his lover which remained strong, despite their abstinence, and his mind locked onto Matt’s the moment he came within range. Vic felt a surge of excitement flare through him as Matt sensed his presence. ::There you are. Finally.::

A sudden warmth enveloped Vic in a phantom embrace as Matt’s consciousness hugged him tight. ::You sound happy,:: Vic thought. ::Does that mean we’re getting lucky tonight?::

Matt let out a surprised laugh. ::So it’s not just me. Come here already, will you? I’ve got good news.::

Vic wasn’t sure if that meant they’d won or lost their game. Winning would be good, definitely, but in Vic’s mind, losing would be just as much a cause for celebration, if not more so, because then there’d be no reason why they couldn’t f**k each other silly. If Matt’s team didn’t win, Vic thought maybe he’d have to bail out of his own game on Friday—he’d be too worn out and, with any luck, too sore to sit on the bench waiting to bat.

Matt didn’t give him any indication about how his game went, and when Vic tried poking around his lover’s thoughts for some clue, he found himself shut out. ::Wait and see,:: Matt told him.

Vic could’ve cried in frustration.

In his haste to get home, Vic parked crookedly in front of their building, one front tire up on the sidewalk and the back rim scraping the curb. He didn’t bother straightening out, just left the car where it stopped and slammed the door shut before hurrying up the steps to their apartment building. Inside, he took the stairs two at a time to reach the second floor, where he and Matt lived. As he reached for the door knob to their apartment, it turned in his hand, and the door opened wide. Matt stood on the other side, a huge grin in place that lit up his eyes.

“Well?” Vic asked.

Matt raised his eyebrows, his lips curving into a sly bow. “Guess.”

To buy himself a moment to think, Vic asked, “Can I come in?”

Matt stepped aside, then shut the door behind Vic as he entered their apartment. Draping his arms over Vic’s shoulders, Matt kissed the nape of his neck as he helped him out of his jacket. From the hallway, Vic could see a half dozen Chinese takeout containers on the kitchen table. The apartment smelled of hot ginger and soy sauce. In the doorway leading to the living room, a worn baseball glove rested on a pair of dusty cleats. Turning, Vic let Matt take off his jacket as he glanced over his lover’s clothing. A thick swathe of dirt streaked down one side of Matt’s jeans, and he still wore the bright blue T-shirt bearing the gym’s name in green on the left breast.

“You’re still dressed,” Vic pointed out. “I’m guessing you guys won.”

With a laugh, Matt let Vic’s jacket fall to the floor and wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck. Vic found himself pulled into a bear hug, and Matt’s lips crushed his in a triumphant kiss. “Yes! Five to four, can you believe it? Things wouldn’t have been so close if Roxie could just learn to pitch straight and stop pegging batters with the ball, but I put in a relief pitcher after the seventh inning and we pulled ahead to win.”

He kissed Vic again, hugging him so tight, Vic stumbled against him. Matt fell back and found the wall behind him. Planting his feet firmly, he pulled Vic close, eyes shut, lips demanding. Their kiss grew ardent; Matt grasped Vic’s shirt, pinning himself between the wall and his lover, a mental cheer cried out between them. ::We won!::

With his hands on either side of Matt, Vic pulled away. “That’s great,” he said, flashing his lover a quick grin. “Is that dinner on the table? Because I’m famished.”

Matt’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted, his eyes dulled with lust. A look of confusion flickered across his features, and he held onto Vic’s shirt to keep him near. “We won,” he said again, as if Vic might have somehow failed to grasp that fact. “You could at least be happy for me.”

“I am.” Vic caught his lover’s hands in his, freed them from his shirt, then raised them to his lips to kiss Matt’s knuckles. “Matty, that’s terrific, really, it is. I just sort of hoped—I don’t know, maybe…”

A slow grin spread across Matt’s face. “I’d lose and we could f**k?”

Vic laughed. “Well, I didn’t want to put it so bluntly.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Matt suggested. “You guys are up against the Y.”

Narrowing his eyes, Vic growled, “What makes you think we won’t win?”

Matt slipped one hand from Vic’s and ran it down his lover’s chest, over his belt buckle, to poke at the front of his crotch. Vic closed his eyes against the pleasure that bloomed in him at that touch. “Even if you don’t advance,” Matt assured him, “you’ll still score big. I’ll see to it personally.”

Vic admitted, “I almost hope we lose when you put it like that.”