Chapter 7 - ESI

Endless expanses of brown. That's all he saw, no matter which direction he looked in. Of course, there were about a million different shades of brown, but it was still all just brown.

There was the reddish brown of the low rolling hills of sand. The paler white-brown of the road surface that stretched ahead of the Humvee transport vehicle and then disappeared behind as they drove on. The sparse scrub-like vegetation was a combination of dark brown and white, sticking up at odd angles out of the desolate terrain. Then there was the mottled brown-gold-green of the camouflage combat helmet he held on his lap.

From inside the mesh-like lining of the helmet Justin pulled out the photo of his angel. His buddy, Riddick, sitting above him in the battle turret saw his motions and chuckled. All his comrades had gotten used to seeing Sgt. Taylor gazing for endless hours on that tattered old photo. It had become sort of a standing joke to the whole squad. “Staring at Brad Pitts' abs again, Big Sarge?” Justin grinned up at Riddick, ready to shoot off an appropriately snarky response.

That was when all fucking hell broke loose. Suddenly, there was a reverberating explosion shaking the bradley and enveloping the heavy vehicle in a menacing billow of smoke. The entire five ton armored vehicle jumped up off the ground about three feet and then started to settle back down, listing dangerously to the right. The driver, Freeman, was yelling something but Justin couldn’t hear anything over the ongoing noise and the ringing in his ears. Luckily, because of the low center of gravity, the truck didn’t tip all the way over and eventually managed to settle back into a mostly upright position.  

Justin willed himself not to panic as he took a cursory look around to assess the immediate damage. The entire world seemed to shift into slow motion. Over his left shoulder he could see something moving. He turned his head to look in that direction, already knowing what he would see but compelled nonetheless to look. Riddick was still there - or at least parts of him were still there. The movement he’d noticed out of the corner of his eye was from the flapping of Riddick’s jacket. The brown wasn’t just brown anymore, though. The familiar blobs of camouflage print were now dripping with abstract splatters in a dark ocher red and marred by burned patches of carbon black. At the collar of the jacket, where he should have seen the grinning countenance of his buddy, there was nothing.

Justin screamed but there was no sound. The eerie ringing tone in his ears just got louder. He turned towards where Freeman should have been but the driver was gone. All that was left was a stump of an arm, still gripping onto the steering wheel of the truck, a droplet of crimson blood hanging onto a shredded piece of flesh, not quite ready to drop into the pool of gore decorating the empty seat. Justin tried to open the door of the vehicle, wanting only to escape, to get away from the red and back to the empty but less gruesome brown. The door wouldn’t budge. Justin’s hands were covered in the same slick red. He couldn’t grip the door handle. He frantically grappled with the slippery metal.

Outside the window the brown was being swallowed up everywhere by a red mist. He couldn’t breathe. The red was suffocating him. Red was engulfing everything. The red was going to suck him down. The only option was to retreat from the red and let the numbing black swarm over him and hide him from the destruction and the pull of the horrible red tide.

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Brian was lost as to what he should do. He had been sitting there holding Justin’s trembling form for several minutes, but the younger man was still locked in whatever hell he saw behind his blank eyes. All Brian could do was hold the man in his arms, gently rocking them both while he muttered nonsense phrases that were supposed to provide comfort. Justin pushed back against Brian’s chest unmercifully; trying to free himself from the confines of his imagined prison. Brian simply held on tighter.

Slowly, the warmth of flesh and the comfort of an embrace broke through the haze gripping Justin. His eyes started to flutter open, looking around wildly, in total confusion, not exactly sure where he was or how he got there.

As his senses began to come back to him, he didn’t notice the ever present stench of burning metal or the slippery feel of blood on his hands. The sounds of open rioting and unrest, explosives and gunfire, was strangely non-existent. What did permeate his nose was a slightly familiar, far more pleasant scent, composed of expensive french aftershave and masculine musk. The scents were calming and brought a sense of tranquility to his tortured soul.  

Gradually, the fog in Justin’s brain lifted and the warm body that had him locked in a surprisingly protective embrace, became recognizable. The strong profile, full lips and haunting hazel eyes; it was like his painting come to life, only with a fresh wash of soft flesh colors replacing the loud and vivid colors that he’d displayed on the screen he’d painted earlier in the day. They were the features of his angel, come to life.

“B-B-Brian?” Justin called softly, his own voice sounding strange to his ears which expected only the ongoing ringing or the cries of his injured friends.

“Shhh . . . Don’t talk, just relax. It’s okay, Justin. You can explain to me why you’re having a full out drama queen episode later,” Brian lightly teased with a shy smile, trying to ease the loaded tension of the moment. Brian brushed a patch of sweaty hair away from Justin’s face, and was pleased when he received a small, watery smile in return.

Justin was struggling to separate the scenes of his nightmare from the reality of his present. It wasn’t easy, though. He was afraid to say anything for fear that he’d just start screaming. All he could do at the moment was hang onto the strong man who was supporting him and bury his face deeper into the warmth of Brian’s yielding chest.

Brian was also struggling to find something to say. What would be comforting to this tortured young man? Brian couldn’t think of anything. All that came to mind was the terrible burden this man was suffering under and the thought that Ben had probably witnessed the same horrifying scenes.

“About eight months ago . . .” Brian started quietly. “About eight months ago my baby brother was suddenly taken from me. He was halfway through his second tour of duty overseas when he was gunned down by friendly fire, and nobody could explain exactly how it managed to happen.” Brian swallowed around the lump in his throat as he struggled to dredge up the awful memory of the day he learned of Ben’s death.

“Ben and I came from opposite sides of the tracks - who would have guessed that my working class Mick father would have the gumption to knock up a debutant, huh - but when dear old Jack was being a particularly bigger asshole than usual, I could escape to Britin and Ben would always be there to help comfort me in any way he could.”

Justin listened intently while Brian spun his tale of anguish and significant loss. He never imagined the depth of pain and sorrow this seemingly self-assured man was carrying around. It made him long to switch their positions, gather the older man in his arms, and offer to shoulder both of their emotional burdens. He wanted to tell Brian that he didn’t have to go on, that he didn’t need to tell him the full story, but somehow Justin knew that this was something the brunet had to do.

“I think I died too the day they told us that he’d been killed. I felt like I’d lost my only friend. My only confidante. But the thing that bothers me the most is that no one can tell us exactly what happened to Ben. I hate not knowing. I hate thinking that his life was sacrificed for nothing. He was always so compassionate. The reason he joined the service was because he felt so strongly about the issues and wanted to be part of the solution. I can’t bear to think he was killed without having fulfilled that purpose.”

Justin reached up to touch Brian’s cheek in commiseration. Feeling wetness beneath his palm, Justin lightly swiped his thumb below Brian’s wet lower eyelashes to remove some of the anguished tears. He didn’t realize his own tears were falling just as heavily.

Feeling the need to take some of his angel’s pain away, Justin brought his lips up to Brian’s in a soft and comforting kiss, letting Brian know that he wasn’t alone in his pain. The chaste kiss quickly became heated and all the pent up passion and longing was soon slipping into every brush of their swollen lips. Only the need for air was enough to momentarily break the connection and as Brian looked in the lust-darkened blue orbs; he knew he would have to once again grudgingly walk away from what Justin was clearly offering him.

“Justin . . .” Brian spoke breathlessly “We can’t keep doing this.”

Justin crushed his lips to Brian’s mouth, interrupting what he was saying. The kiss was filled with a beseeching need; a connection that Justin desperately craved.

“Please, Brian . . . Stay with me tonight,” Justin pleaded, a quiver to his voice. “We don’t have to go beyond what we’ve already shared, but I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Instead of answering, Brian gave a brief nod of his head in acceptance and began to unwind himself from Justin. He had to admit, even if it was just to himself, he was shaken after witnessing Justin’s nightmare and talking about Ben. Lying here with his young blond handyman felt right; it shouldn’t feel this right, but it just did.

As Brian stood up he brought Justin along with him and, taking him by the hand, led him to the bathroom.

“I don’t know about you, but I stink from the club and I’m still a bit sticky after that fucking erotic dance you subjected me to. I could really use a shower and I think you could too after your . . . nightmare.” Brian stated, hesitating to remind Justin of whatever it was he’d been seeing in his dream - if that’s what you called whatever Justin had been experiencing.

Brian sat Justin on the closed lid of the toilet in the tiny bathroom. He toed off his shoes and socks and then started to remove his shirt, noting the still shell-shocked and far away look in the young blond’s eyes. Even after Brian shucked off his jeans, Justin still wasn’t showing any signs of interest. Brian reached into the tiny square shower cubicle that was all the apartment had and flipped up the handle to turn on the water.  

“Getting both of us in there is definitely going to be a bit of a challenge,” Brian commented, his voice finally drawing Justin’s attention back to the present moment. “It’s dirty work, but someone will have to do it, and I guess that someone is going to have to be me. So, come on there, Sarge. Get up and get those skivvies off unless you want to take a shower in your shorts.”

Justin turned his head in the direction of Brian’s voice, eyes still somewhat unfocused. He slowly rose to his feet and pushed his briefs over his slim hips, letting the fabric fall to the ground and then stepping out of them. Brian took a moment to revel in the sheer beauty of Justin’s well toned body as he stood there in all his glory. During his deliberately slow perusal of Justin’s fine form, Brian noticed a two inch long, jagged. reddish-purple looking scar on Justin’s left hip. The obvious battle wound started at his hipbone and zig-zagged down Justin’s pelvis until it seemed to disappear into the bush of his curly blond pubes. Right next to the still raw-looking scar, there was a realistic looking tattoo of two linked dog tags that emerged from a virtual tear in the otherwise blemish free skin, hanging down the man’s hip.

Brian sucked in a shallow breath as he reached out a hand, and gently tugged Justin into the shower. As the two men stood silently under the warm spray, Brian began to slowly wash Justin’s body with the store brand soap that he had at his disposal. Brian fought the urge to roll his eyes and very well may have, if his fingers hadn’t chosen that moment to graze over the old wound that Justin was sporting.

The puckered skin of the scar felt both smooth and rough to the touch, the flesh underneath indented slightly giving evidence of the muscle that was no longer present. Brian let his fingers trace along the line of stippled bumps where the sutures had been. Justin looked deep into caring hazel eyes, allowing Brian to read the story of his experiences like a blind person reading the most intriguing of stories in braille. Neither man bothered to comment about the obvious nature of the scar - Brian decided that he probably didn’t want to hear the story almost as much as Justin didn’t want to tell it.

After several minutes spent soothing the injured hip, Brian finally moved on with the bar of soap. His long and agile fingers brushed lightly across the crevices and dips of the slim body. He didn’t let his touch linger in those intriguing places, no matter how much he wanted to - this shower was meant to help calm Justin, not get them both all riled up again. So, after a perfunctory cleansing of the lower regions, Brian’s hands moved up over the well-toned abs, the chiseled chest, and massaged along the seemingly endless muscles of Justin’s shoulders and arms. Justin let himself relax into the tender touch. The only thing still holding him up on his feet was the small size of the little shower, which physically prevented him from collapsing to his knees.

With a little struggle, Brian managed to turn Justin around so the younger man was facing the glass door of the little cubicle. Grabbing the plastic bottle of cheap shampoo, Brian tilted Justin’s head back so he was leaning against Brian’s chest and then slowly started working the lather into the shaggy blond locks. Justin’s quiet moans of appreciation were clear evidence that he was enjoying the pampering, and Brian smiled to himself when he found he was enjoying it too, even though this was something very out of character for him. However, Brian didn’t let his manly ego stop him from relishing the feeling of the thick blond strands sliding through his fingers as he lightly scratched the underlying scalp.

Moving from the crown down, Brian carefully made sure that he didn’t miss a spot. As he was gliding his fingertips forward towards Justin’s temples, he inadvertently discovered one more scar - this one not as obvious because it was covered by the thick mat of blond hair. Brian couldn’t stop his fingers tracing along this scar too, feeling the differences between the hard raised line of healing tissue here on Justin’s right temple and the much deeper scar on his hip.

‘My God, what kind of hell had this young man been through?’ Brian began to understand better why nightmares would be assailing Justin so viciously. Given more time, Brian was sure he would discover quite a few more war wounds littering Justin’s beautiful body. The fact that he wore them so proudly, without shame or a modicum of modesty, made Justin that much more  breathtaking. That thought alone triggered an involuntary groan that escaped in spite of Brian’s attempted self control. He couldn’t help the fact that Justin’s ass was the perfect height to rub against his semi-hard cock. Without conscious volition, Brian’s hands drifted southward, caressing the plains of alabaster skin and pulling Justin’s frame even tighter against his own.

In his head, Brian was telling himself that he shouldn’t. This wasn’t right. Justin was still dealing with the trauma of that nightmare or flashback or whatever it was. The younger man wasn’t ready for anything more. And Brian had repeatedly told himself that he wouldn’t pursue his newest employee like this. He’d learned his lesson the hard way from a prior dalliance and told himself he knew better.

However, while Brian’s brain was busy listing all the reasons why he wasn’t going to take this . . . thing . . . with Justin any further, his hands had already worked their way down and found the heavenly fullness of Justin’s thick hard length. This boy was much larger than Brian first thought. Brian, being a size queen, loved every bit of it. He wrapped his hand around the ample girth and slowly slid his palm up to the tip from the base. He took a moment to rub his thumb along the leaking slit. Keeping in time, he rutted against Justin’s ass, sliding between soap slickened cheeks.  

Justin moved his head to rest against Brian’s shoulder, tilting his head at an angle for a kiss. Brian accommodated him by bending his head forward and capturing the inviting lips. Justin opened immediately to his questing tongue and pressed his hips back at the same time so that the pressure against Brian’s already swollen cock was almost unbearable. He took several short panting breaths, trying to quell the incipient tidal wave that threatened to take him over, but somehow, at the same time, managing not to let the rhythm of his stroking hand fail.   

Brian moved his lips along Justin’s jaw, nibbling and licking his way to the delectable neck on offer. The heat of the pulse point just below Justin’s ear seemed to increase his own pulse incrementally. Justin’s hand reached up to caress Brian’s jaw, slipping a finger in his mouth, while his other hand grabbed onto Brian’s hip in passion.  

Sucking that luscious digit further into his mouth, tipped Brian beyond control. Moving his hips faster, cock riding between the hemispheres of the most decadent bubble butt he’d ever experienced, Brian shot his load along Justin’s ass crack and up his back. All the while, Brian was stroking Justin to his tempo, bringing the owner of said decadent bubble butt to completion within mere seconds of his own climax.

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It was just past eight am when Brian and Justin drove up the long driveway to Britin. The drive out to the estate from Babylon had been mostly silent. Both men were feeling a little too open and vulnerable after their shared experience of the night before, which meant that neither of them really knew what to say. Justin was still uncomfortable knowing that Brian had seen one of his ‘episodes’. He wanted to thank Brian for being there and staying with him all night, but the older man had seemed so withdrawn that morning, that Justin didn’t really know how to start. He also wanted to come clean and tell Brian about the photo and why he’d shown up so suddenly in this man’s life. The right words just didn’t seem to come to him, though, so Justin sat quietly for the length of the drive.

Brian was always hesitant to discuss anything emotional - no way was he about to initiate any conversation about the night before. He really didn’t want to acknowledge the way he’d held Justin in his arms all night long or the overwhelming need he felt to protect the younger man. All he knew was that, as soon as it started to get light out, he was more than anxious to get back to Britin. And yet, at the same time, he didn’t want the intimacy with Justin to end. At the last minute, Brian had thought up several additional jobs at Britin that he needed Justin’s assistance with. With his usual calm acceptance, Justin had acquiesced to the request to drive back to Brian’s home with him.

Brian had already parked his vintage Corvette in front of the house and was walking around the car to help Justin out before he saw Lindsey’s car parked off to the side almost hidden by the large oak tree that grew between the house and the barn. Brian was ready to turn right around, get back in the car and speed away. Unfortunately, the front door opened before he could effect his escape.

“Morning, Bri,” Lindsey’s teasing, upper-crust intonation echoed across the lawn. “You’re getting in a bit late, aren’t you - I mean, even for you. I didn’t think that you did sleep overs.”

“Good morning to you too, Lindsey,” Brian replied casually, trying his best to ignore the dangling bait his old friend was angling his way in her blatant attempt to get him to snipe back.

Lindsey wasn’t ready to give up just yet, though. She was already halfway down the walkway to the car before the other occupant of the ‘Vette got out and stood hesitantly next to Brian. Brian braced himself for the onslaught he knew would be coming.

“Oh, you brought company home for breakfast?” Lindsey added with a sickly sweet smile on her otherwise elegant face. “I thought he was just a hired hand, Bri? My mistake . . . So, Justin . . . that was your name, right? How are you this morning? Shouldn’t you be off in the barn or something? Or did you already have a nice roll in the hay this morning?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lindsay,” Brian fumed at the implications that Lindz was making but didn’t really want to have this out with her right here. “Last time I checked, this was MY house and I was allowed to invite anyone I chose to visit. Which, by the way, I didn’t do for you this morning. What exactly are you doing here this early?”

“I just came by to see Gus, of course. Are you saying that I can’t come see my son when I choose?”

“I’ve asked you before to call before you come over, Lindz.”

“Obviously, that’s because you want a little more warning so that you can get your whores out of the house before I arrive,” Lindsey sniped, all pretense of civility or country club breeding thrown out by this point.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Justin interrupted at this point, sidestepping so that he was standing between the two combatants. “I don’t really see that it’s any of your business but Brian asked me to come over today and do some more work for him in the stables. I don’t have a car, so my boss was nice enough to drive me. Besides, my private life, and who I take a roll in the hay with aren’t really your concern and I don’t take kindly to being called a whore. If you weren’t a lady, I’d have already decked you for that. Now, I think you owe Brian an apology for your rude comments, don’t you?”

Lindsay pressed her lips into such a tight, thin line that they looked as if they had disappeared. She couldn’t believe the gall of this young man who was clearly nothing but the flavor of the week to Brian - even if he didn’t know it yet - and didn’t feel she owed him or Brian a damn thing. What Lindsay did feel was in order was to remind Brian of who exactly held the ball in their court.

“First of all, you little blond twerp, who are you to tell me when to apologize? You need to get this through that twink head of yours - once Brian gets bored with you, you will be thrown to the curb just like the rest. I’d advise you not get too comfortable or consider yourself special . . . because you’re not. Oh and Brian . . . my advice to you is to ask yourself how much do you like having your son around, and if your dalliances are worth risking Gus over?”

“I think it’s beyond time for you to leave, Lindsay,” Brian shot back at her, not deigning to lower himself to squabble over such important matters in the yard in front of his employee. “If you want to discuss this further, I suggest that we do it when you’ve got your temper under control.”

“Fuck you, Brian,” Lindsay hissed, trying to push Justin out of the way so she could get right in Brian’s face. “You don’t want to piss me off. I’ve already been talking to my father and his lawyers about our outdated custody arrangements. Don’t push me unless you want me to just take Gus right now?”

Justin had had enough of this insufferable woman trying to make unwarranted demands on his angel regarding his child. He didn’t think that the sexually frustrated sow would stoop so low as to use her own flesh and blood as a pawn in whatever sick little game she was playing, but she’d obviously gone beyond that now. It was time to put a stop to these detestable machinations.

“Ma’am, I suggest that you heed one of the lessons we’re taught early on in the military, ‘Do not engage in a battle of wits when you are unarmed’,” Justin instructed before Lindsay could say anything further.

Lindsey seemed so angry by this point that she couldn’t actually get any other words out even though her mouth was open. If she’d been an animal, she’d probably be frothing at the mouth by now. And, if Brian hadn’t been so angry at her that he could barely see straight, he would have laughed at the look of consternation on the woman's usually serene face.

Lindsey eventually managed to shut her trap. With a last look, she flounced off to her car, clearly in a tizzy that someone - especially a blond-haired field hand - would speak to her in such a way. She once again, for the second time in as many days, sped off in a huff.

“How the hell did you put up with her all these years?” Justin asked when Lindsey was well out of earshot.

Brian took a deep cleansing breath before answering honestly “I had to maintain a constant chemically-altered state of mind.”

Justin shook his head in amusement, not even bothering to hold back his laughter at Brian’s admission, as Brian led him to the stables to start his daily grind.