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Andrew sits at a red light, the refrain of, ‘it’s not enough, it’s not enough’ pounding in his head. He’s made it through five banks so far, no issues. He knows it’s tempting fate to keep going, knows that the risk jumps with each new building he walks into, but he can’t deny the compulsion to keep going.
He needs to keep going. Needs to get enough money.
In a life like his, he knows the odds are stacked against him to live a long life. He knows it’s much more likely that he’ll meet the business end of a gun on a job, a shiv in prison, maybe even a baseball bat to the head from an ally. Just a matter of time.
But he has time now, today. If he keeps going, if he does just one more bank, maybe he’ll have enough.
He thinks about what Lena’s face would look like, when she finds out. He imagines her applying for college and receiving a letter in the mail telling her about a bank account in her name, with hundreds of thousands of dollars in it, just for her. For her future.
She’ll never want for anything. She’ll have the funds to do anything, be anything she can dream of.
So, as always, at the end of the day, the risk is worth it, to give Lena the chance at a better life.
He pulls into the mall parking lot and drives up and down a few aisles. He pulls into a spot next to an older model Honda. He can see some rust spots at the lower corners of the doors. The back bumper is noticeably scratched. Low probability of any kind of GPS for this piece of shit.
Andrew gets out of the car he’s in, a Toyota boosted from another lot, and pops the trunk to grab his tools, the duffle of money. He looks around at the parking lot. There are a few people walking to or from cars, but no one’s paying attention to him. He’s far enough away from the entrances that he won’t be clear to any of the security cameras. He wears a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, covering his hair.
Jimmying the lock takes less than a minute, hotwiring another two. Then he’s popped the trunk, dropped his gear in, and he’s pulling out of the parking lot at a leisurely pace to not draw attention to himself.
The car he’s in doesn’t smell great, like stale cigarettes and old greasy food. But it’ll work for this trip.
Andrew glances at the clock. He’s made good time today, amped up on the adrenaline high of hitting bank after bank in quick succession. He’s still got a couple of hours until he needs to pick Lena up from school. He’ll be done with time to spare.
It’s ten more minutes to the branch office he’s going to hit. He parks in the lot on the side, facing away from the front doors. He stands at the open trunk, pulling on a new set of gloves, his balaclava, his jacket. He grabs another garbage bag and loops the gun strap around his neck and shoulders.
One more deep breath, and then he turns on his heel, walking purposefully into the bank.
“Everyone, down on the ground!” he yells, waving the gun in the air. People start screaming and the patrons in the bank hurry to lay down.
He walks up to the security guard, an older middle aged guy who starts reaching for his gun. Andrew punches him in the gut, forcing him to the floor, pulling his gun out of its holster and shoving it in his jacket pocket.
Then he walks over to the line of tellers, swinging his weapon around to point it at them.
“No silent alarms, I mean it! Empty your cash, put it in this bag.”
He shoves the garbage bag over the counter, then turns to walk through the swinging half-door from the lobby into the tellers’ space. He watches as first one teller, then another shakily opens their drawer and scoops stacks of cash into the garbage bag.
Andrew hears a noise behind him and instinctively turns and jams his gun into the side of the man coming out of the bank manager’s office. The man falls to the ground with a very audible grunt.
Andrew turns his eyes back to the progress of the teller before glancing back at the man on the ground. His blood runs cold.
The man is tall, maybe a bit over 6’. He’s white, with dark brown hair that’s short on the sides and longer on top, though receding a little. Andrew can see dark stubble on his cheeks shot through with some silver.
It’s not him. Andrew knows it’s not him.
But in his mind, all he sees is Carter on the floor in front of him, at the mercy of some madman with a gun.
Andrew swallows with some difficulty. He turns back to the tellers, walking quickly over to the last woman, grabbing the bag out of her hand even though she hasn’t finished pulling the cash out of her drawer.
His eyes catch again on the man on the ground and he startles when their eyes meet. The manager has blue eyes, not brown, and his nose is too small on his face. It’s not him.
Andrew knows it’s not him.
But the feeling of fear, not for himself, but at the idea that Carter could someday find himself in a situation like this – just a regular day that he expected to be like any other, until a man with a gun shows up and punches him to the ground – starts clouding out the other thoughts in his mind.
Andrew shakes his head, and hurries out of the bank. He’s stayed too long; no doubt someone’s tripped a silent alarm.
He peels out of the parking lot, pulling the balaclava off his head. He’s breathing hard, his heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of his chest.
For once, he’s grateful for the ingrained post-job behaviors. He pulls into a Home Depot parking lot, switches to a new car, and drives away, studiously following all traffic rules. He’s close enough to the bank that he can hear the sirens now. But he doesn’t think he’s left any evidence.
Just less than two hours to go until he can pick Lena up. Probably just best he grabs his car and parks around the block until it’s time.
***
An hour later, Andrew’s staring intently at the single text in the thread. Carter had sent a list of what shifts he’d be working for the next two weeks the day after they’d run into each other outside Deran’s bar. No other message, just the schedule. Like he’d known that Andrew wouldn’t be interested in small talk.
Based on the text, Andrew knows that Carter is off today and won’t be working until tomorrow’s overnight. His thumb hovers over the call symbol on the contact.
He presses it. No going back now.
Carter answers after two rings. “Andrew?” He sounds skeptical but friendly, like he doesn’t actually expect Andrew to be on the other end.
“Yeah,” Andrew grunts, because he needs to respond.
There’s silence for a few beats. Carter seems to be waiting for Andrew to say something.
“I’m… waiting for Lena to be done with school,” he adds.
Carter hums into the phone. Andrew can’t hear any background noises. The man could be anywhere. But he’s probably busy. This was a stupid idea. Andrew’s about to just end the call when Carter speaks.
“Did you want some company?”
Andrew breathes out, then winces because it probably sounded really loud over the phone.
“What if…” Carter starts again. “What if you came by my place, and we grabbed my car. We could take a drive with Lena when she gets out of school. Maybe eat out for dinner.”
Andrew feels frozen. Carter is proposing something that, well, regular people do. Regular people go with someone to pick up their friend’s niece. Regular people take a drive in the afternoon. Regular people pick a restaurant to eat at for dinner.
Though, he’s not sure Carter counts as a friend. Andrew doesn’t have friends. He has family and then there’s everyone else. Carter doesn’t fit in the first category, but he sure as hell doesn’t fit in the second one anymore, either.
“Yeah,” he says into the phone. He’s not sure why he does this, why he keeps spending time with Carter. It’s bound to end badly.
But he can’t stop thinking about that man on the ground, how easily it could have been Carter. At least, if Carter’s with him, Andrew could protect him from anything bad happening to him. Not all the time, of course. But at least the man has a job at a hospital, which must security.
Carter tells Andrew he’ll text him the address and then he hangs up, no social niceties required. Andrew feels a strange sort of gratitude for that. No need for pretense.
The message comes right through. The address is nearby, in one of the wealthier neighborhoods for people who have summer cottages. Andrew assumes that Carter’s renting the place for however long he’s in town. He doesn’t dwell on the strange twist in his stomach as he thinks about the fact that Carter’s stay is temporary.
It takes less than ten minutes to get to Carter’s rental. The one-stall garage door is open and empty, a black Mazda parked on the street. Carter walks out the front door of the cottage, closing it behind him. He comes up to Andrew’s window, which Andrew rolls down.
“Might as well pull into the garage,” he says pointing to it.
Andrew does, though he’s not sure what the point is. Probably a low chance of his Wrangler getting jacked in this neighborhood.
Carter is already sitting in the driver’s seat of the Mazda, the engine running when Andrew walks out of the garage. The other man must hit a button from his car; the garage door starts closing behind him.
He gets into the passenger seat and gives Carter directions to Lena’s school. When they get closer, he directs Carter around the block so they can wait without drawing attention.
They sit in silence for a while, listening to the classic rock station playing softly on the radio. The quiet gives Andrew time to think about the bank jobs he’d pulled earlier. Unwanted, the image of the man on the floor floats through his mind. Despite his efforts, he fixates on it, ruminating on what would happen, how he would react, if Carter were in danger like that. That turns into wondering about the sins of his past and the ones he’s yet to commit.
“Do you think it’s true that God forgives us if we ask him to?”
Carter’s brow furrows, like he’s thinking about it.
“I don’t know. Not sure I believe in a god, so I don’t think I’ve ever tried.”
Andrew shifts in his seat so he’s facing Carter across the console. “You don’t think there’s a higher power, in control of everything?”
Carter rubs his hand across his mouth, then scratches his cheek through his stubble.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s a doctor thing. I’ve seen so many patients, so many people who experienced horrible things, who died, through no fault of their own. Their families prayed, begging for their loved one to be saved.” He shrugs. “Didn’t make a difference from where I was sitting.”
Andrew considers that. He thinks about how many people Carter would have helped, or been unable to help, over decades of working in the emergency room.
“In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says that God won’t forgive us until we forgive the people who hurt us. Like, God’s forgiveness depends on us forgiving each other.”
Andrew looks through the windshield. He can feel Carter’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t want to look back. He doesn’t know what he’ll find in the other man’s eyes, but a part of him is afraid to find out.
Carter’s quiet for a minute, and then asks, “What do you think about that?”
Andrew sighs. “I think it’s just another sign that God’s love is actually conditional. Just like any parent, I guess. He may give us what we need to get through something, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to love us for what we’ve done.”
He knows that, according to society, even according to the Bible, he’s done bad things. He’s hurt people, even if he didn’t want to, he’s stolen things, he’s made life difficult for others. But he also knows that he did it for the right reason. Even if Smurf is a fucking monster, in some ways, she was right. It was his job to protect the family. And that’s what he’ll continue to do.
But as he sits there in the car next to Carter, breathing the same air as him, so close he could just reach out and touch him, he wonders if it was truly for the right reason. He feels like he’s on the precipice of something, and if he falls in, everything he knows about himself will shatter.
“Do you think it matters what some god thinks, if we know we did the right thing?” Carter asks him, laying his arm along the center console, inches away from Andrew’s.
“I guess if you’re interested in what happens in the next life.”
Carter hums, nodding once. “It would be nice, to imagine there’s another place after this. A place where there’s no suffering, only happiness. When I was with Doctors Without Borders, I saw a lot of people suffering, innocent people who’d never hurt anyone in their life. I’d like to think when they die, they’ll go on to some better place.”
“Not sure I’d get in there,” Andrew says quietly. He’s accepted that, even if he acted for the right reasons, some marks just don’t get washed clean.
“I don’t know,” Carter says. He lays his arm along the top of Andrew’s, grabbing his hand and maneuvering his wrist so that their palms touch. He threads their fingers together. “If you believe in that sort of thing, I don’t think it’s ever too late to turn things around.”
Andrew meets his eyes then. Carter’s gaze is steady and the corners of his mouth tip up a little when he squeezes Andrew’s hand lightly.
Andrew swallows, his throat suddenly tight. He clears it, looking over at the clock.
“Oh, I, uh, I think we could go around the block to pick up Lena. She won’t know to expect your car.”
Carter lets go of his hand and nods, turning the engine back on and pulling onto the street.
When they get closer to the school, kids are starting to spill through the doors, eager to get outside. Andrew gets out of the car and stands next to it, watching for Lena. He waves to her and calls her name when he sees her and she comes over without hesitation.
He takes her hand and walks with her around to the backseat.
“Hey, Lena. Dr. Carter is going to drive us down the coast and take us out to dinner.” He opens the door and she climbs inside. He waits for her to buckle her seatbelt before he closes the door and gets into the front seat.
“Hi, Lena,” Carter says, turning in his seat to look at her. “Is that ok with you?”
She nods. “Yes. Can we find a place that has pizza?”
Carter smiles. “You bet, sweetie.”
Once they’re back on the road, Andrew asks Lena about her day at school.
“We worked on fractions again in math class. We’re supposed to be able to add and subtract them.”
“You like math, Lena?” Carter asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
“Not really,” she responds. “I’d rather be reading. Or playing outside.”
“I didn’t like math much, either, when I was younger,” Andrew says, grimacing a little.
“Not an A student, I take it,” Carter remarks lightly, not like he’s mocking Andrew, but like he knows the answer.
“Nah. I… I didn’t fit well in school when I was young. My mother eventually pulled me out altogether, homeschooled me.”
“Hmmm,” Carter says, giving Andrew a sideways look but offering no further commentary.
As they drive down the coast, Lena talks about the two girls she likes at school and how they’ve talked about making friendship bracelets. She talks about what teachers she does and doesn’t like, her favorite subjects, and what she’s looking forward to making in art class.
By the time they reach a pizza place for dinner, she’s gone quiet. She digs into the meat and veggie pizza when the server brings it out, though, and the three of them joke about pizza toppings, deciding what the best topping is (pepperoni) and the worst (pineapple).
The ride back up the coast is a lot quieter. At one point, Andrew turns around to check on Lena and sees that she’s fallen asleep, her head resting against the window. When he turns back to face forward, Carter’s hand slips off the center console and onto his thigh, his thumb lightly stroking his leg.
They finish the drive like that, in a weird twilight feeling, like they’re just a regular family, driving home after eating pizza out. Andrew feels itchy under his skin, sort of giddy, but also terrified he’s going to say or do something to fuck this up.
Carter’s pulling into the driveway when Andrew remembers his car is back at the rental house. He opens his mouth to mention it when Carter beats him to it.
“If you want, we can pick up your car tomorrow morning, after dropping her at school. I don’t work until the overnight.”
Andrew thinks on it and decides it won’t hurt anything. So he nods, and steps out of the car, gently opening the back door to prevent Lena from tumbling out. She’s still sleeping, so he scoops her up and carries her into the house.
She’s petulant when she comes to as he sets her down on her bed, annoyed at being woken up. But he’s able to coax her to brush her teeth, rinse her face, and change into pajamas, before crawling under her covers. She’s so tired, she doesn’t even want a story, drifting back off to sleep as he smooths a hand over her hair.
Andrew waits for a few more minutes, to make sure that she’s asleep, before he leaves her room, closing the door quietly behind him. He’s feeling pretty sleepy himself, the exhaustion of all the adrenaline spikes from the bank jobs that morning catching up to him.
When he walks out into the kitchen, he can see Carter sitting on the couch, his head back against the cushions. He leans over the back of the couch, resting his arms along the cushions, right next to Carter’s head. The other man tips his head up to look at him upside down and smiles.
Andrew takes a breath. “I’d really like you to stay, but I’m bagged. I don’t know if I’m up for much tonight.”
Carter twists around to look at Andrew, still smiling. “That’s ok. I’d still like to stay.”
He waits while Andrew checks the door lock and switches off the lights, then follows him into the bathroom. Andrew produces a toothbrush and they brush their teeth at the sink, side by side. They take turns using the toilet, then shuffle off their clothes to their underwear and climb into bed.
As Andrew lays on his back in the dark, he realizes he’s never been in a situation like this. He’s been in bed with other people, of course, but usually after fucking. Or, when he was younger and shared a bed with Julia or his brothers. But he can’t think of a time when he shared a bed with a sexual partner and they just… didn’t fuck.
“I can hear you thinking from here,” Carter mutters, moving closer to reach an arm across Andrew’s chest. “If it makes you feel better, we can fool around tomorrow. We’re just doing things backward.”
Andrew brings his own arm up to wrap his hand around Carter’s wrist. He squeezes it lightly, and then he’s out.
***
“Uncle Pope?”
Andrew comes back to consciousness suddenly with a gasp, sitting up. Lena stands next to the bed, holding her unicorn.
“Lena? What’s wrong?”
She stands there looking at him silently. He checks the clock and sees that it’s almost 3:00.
“You have a nightmare?”
She nods then brings the unicorn up to rub her face against it. “Can I… Can I sleep with you?”
Andrew casts a quick glance at Carter next to him. He shakes his leg, feeling a little bad about waking him up. He stirs, stretching his arms. “What… what’s up?”
“Can Lena get in with us?” Andrew asks, not sure how Carter will respond.
The other man yawns, rubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course.” He continues a little louder, “Come on up here, sweetie.”
Andrew helps her crawl over him and she settles between the men on top of the comforter. He reaches down for the spare blanket at the foot of the bed and covers her with it.
Carter shifts so that he’s on his side, facing Lena. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Try going back to sleep.” He reaches out a hand and pats her stomach, then seems to fall back asleep quickly. Andrew assumes that must be an ER doctor skill.
Lena watches Carter for a few minutes as he starts to snore gently. She looks back at Andrew and gives him a small smile. Then she settles back down under the blanket and soon drifts off, too.
Andrew watches the two of them sleep, feeling something heavy in his stomach. He thinks back to his and Carter’s conversation about forgiveness earlier. It’s his fault Lena’s having nightmares. His fault Lena’s an orphan. Maybe someday he can make it up to her.
For now, all he can do is keep watch and keep her safe. He doesn’t fall back asleep.
***
There’s enough light in the room to see when Carter begins stirring. Andrew’s suppressed his usual habit of sitting up when he’s not sleeping. He lies against the pillow, watching Carter’s eyes blink open and take in the scene.
Lena’s still asleep, sprawled on her side, one of her legs hooked over Carter, her back up against Andrew’s side. She’d moved around quite a lot in the night. Andrew is surprised that Carter was able to sleep through it and wonders if that’s part of the doctor thing; falling asleep fast, making it count.
It’s early enough that they won’t be rushing to get Lena to school, but Andrew knows he should wake her up to make sure she eats some breakfast.
His eyes catch Carter’s, now fully awake. Carter smiles at him, inhaling a deep breath through his nose and stretching. Andrew wonders if he stretches so much because his limbs are so long.
When Carter looks over to see Lena still spread out between them, his eyes soften, and his breath goes a little shaky. Andrew thinks about Carter’s son, a whole life of possibilities, gone before any of them could be realized. He gently shakes Lena’s arm, waking her.
She comes to slowly with her usual resistance, giving a small moan of protest.
“Come on, Lena, gotta get up for school,” Andrew says quietly, bending toward her ear.
“How about some toast and eggs for breakfast?” Carter offers, patting her leg where it’s still laying on top of him. She must give him some kind of look; Andrew sees Carter’s smile brighten at her.
Lena sits up and Andrew grabs her to roll her over him and off the bed. “Go get dressed and we’ll be right out.” She leaves the room, clutching her unicorn.
Andrew turns back to Carter. His hair is mussed from sleep and he still looks a little drowsy. In the morning light, his brown eyes are glowing and Andrew feels mesmerized. Like he’s being pulled by some kind of gravity, he leans over and kisses Carter, who makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat.
But his hand comes up to thread through Andrew’s hair and he deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue along Andrew’s bottom lip and sliding it into his mouth. Andrew’s tempted to just lay here and keep kissing Carter, but his bladder has other plans, and they need to get dressed for Lena anyway.
He can see his reluctance mirrored in Carter’s face when he pulls back, stroking his hand down Carter’s chest as he rolls away to get out of bed, hoping his half-chub isn’t noticeable in the pants he pulls on.
True to his word, Carter makes toast and eggs for breakfast, sprinkling some shredded cheese on Lena’s scramble. They’re mostly quiet as they eat; Lena’s rarely a morning person. Then it’s time to get Lena to school.
Before Carter can climb into the driver’s seat of his car, she runs up to him and throws his arms around his waist. Andrew sees Carter freeze, a deer in headlights, his arms wide at first as he looks down at her. But then, slowly, he lays them on her back to return the hug, giving her a pat. She doesn’t say anything, just looks up at Carter with a shy smile, and climbs into the backset.
Andrew meets Carter’s eyes over the roof of the car. Carter stands there, breathing heavily through his nose, his keys clutched in one hand resting on the car. Then he blows out a breath, and sinks into the seat.
When they get to the school drop-off line, Andrew turns in his seat to say goodbye.
“I’ll be here to pick you up after school, ok, Lena?”
She nods. “Bye, Uncle Pope. Bye, Dr. Carter.”
Carter smiles at her over his shoulder. “Bye, sweetie.”
They both watch her cross the street and head to a pair of girls her age, smiling and talking as they walk into the building.
Andrew looks over to see Carter watching him now. “Guess we should head back to the cottage to get your car.”
Andrew nods and Carter pulls into traffic.
***
Andrew wordlessly follows Carter into the cottage. When he’d parked on the street next to the driveway, Carter had looked at him and Andrew’s face had heated up. There wasn’t a question or any hesitation.
But when they walk inside, Carter heads into the kitchen, going through the motions of filling the coffee pot, setting it to percolate. When he leans against the sink, facing away from him, Andrew understands that Carter’s working through something, or working up to something.
So he waits. The coffee is gurgling before Carter spins, facing Andrew again. He sighs and rubs his face. “I’m not stupid, Andrew. It was all over the news, even some CCTV footage. Why do you think I wanted you to leave your car here, in the garage?”
Andrew’s heart is pounding so hard he thinks it must be visible through his shirt. “What do you mean?” He really doesn’t want to have this conversation. He doesn't want to admit anything, confess anything. He wants to go back to when they could both pretend that maybe they were just two men who spent time together occasionally.
Carter’s eyes are piercing as they look back at him. “Oceanside’s not that big, apparently. I got a load of gossip from multiple nurses after Lena came in with the jellyfish stings. Learned a lot about the Cody family.”
This is it, then, Andrew thinks, resigned as he looks away. Carter’s going to tell him he doesn’t want to see him anymore, maybe even that he’s going to talk to the cops. For all that Andrew’s done to protect the family, here he is, fucking things up. Ice surges through his veins at the idea of Andrew needing to solve the problem of Carter.
The feeling of Carter’s hands bracketing his face stop his spiraling thoughts. “I’m not stupid,” he repeats softly. “I’ve done things, made choices, in my life that weren’t always… legal? What other people expected of me. But I had a reason, and for a lot of those choices, I know I did the right thing. Even if others wouldn’t think so.”
He strokes Andrew’s face with his thumbs, runs one over Andrew’s bottom lip. “I won’t lie and say I’m not worried about you, about the risks you’ve taken, about what else you’ve had to do to get through something in your life.”
Andrew feels helpless to look away from the softness in Carter’s eyes. The man is looking at him like he’s worth something, like Carter somehow understands the choices that Andrew’s had to make. An memory of shoveling desert dirt over Cath’s body flashes through his mind and he shivers.
“It’s not that I don’t want to hear about it, if you wanted to tell me,” Carter continues. “But with my position at the hospital, I have reporting obligations. I can’t…”
Andrew leans his head into Carter then, the other man bending down so that their foreheads touch. In a strange way, Carter knowing more about Andrew than he’d assumed is freeing. At first, he’d wanted Carter to be separate from his regular life, ignorant of the jobs he does, the messes he cleans up, for the family. Now that Carter knows at least some of it, and doesn’t seem to be judging Andrew, it feels like some kind of absolution. For things he’s done and for things he might yet do.
He hears himself make a desperate noise and surges to seal his lips over Carter’s. Carter lets him steer the kiss, opening his mouth obligingly to allow Andrew’s tongue into his mouth. He tastes like the coffee and toast he’d had earlier, a little mint from toothpaste, but also that indefinable taste of Carter. Andrew is beginning to find it addicting.
When they come up for air, they’re both breathing hard, still standing in the kitchen, their hard-ons touching through their pants. Carter’s hand squeezes Andrew’s shoulder. “I got you, sweetheart,” he whispers as his other hand cups Andrew’s erection.
Andrew pulls back a little at the pet name.
“No good?” Carter asks, grimacing slightly.
Andrew considers the word, considers what it means for Carter to use it for him.
“No, I… I don’t mind it. Just. Just not ‘baby.’ Please never call me that.” Andrew doesn’t elaborate further, but he sees from Carter’s expression that he’ll take it seriously.
Carter continues groping Andrew’s cock through his pants.
“I think you do, though. Have a sweet heart.”
Andrew sucks in a breath. He can’t remember the last time anyone said something like that to him. Maybe Julia, when they were kids. Before she turned to drugs to cope. He pushes the memories away. He wants to stay in the present. With Carter.
Carter is pushing him against the kitchen counter. “Up,” he says, giving the surface a slap.
Using his arms to push up, Andrew levers himself on top of the counter. Carter steps between his legs and makes short work of his belt, opening his pants and shoving his underwear down.
And then his mouth is on Andrew’s cock and Andrew lets his head fall backward between his shoulders. Carter laps at his slit, sucks on the head. He lets drool fall down the shaft and uses it to start stroking Andrew with his hand, moving it up to meet his lips as he bobs up and down.
“Fuck,” Andrew says loudly into the kitchen. It occurs to him that they’re alone in the cottage. He doesn’t have to worry about being quiet. He isn’t usually loud during sex, not wanting to give away too much emotion. But as a yelp escapes him when Carter suddenly tugs his legs up over Carter’s shoulders so he can get even closer to Andrew’s crotch, Andrew realizes he wants Carter to know that he’s in this, right now.
Supporting his weight with an elbow, now that he’s practically laying down on the counter, Andrew sets his other hand on Carter’s head. He cards through his brown hair as Carter swallows around the head of his cock. Andrew can hear himself moaning, not even trying to form words. Carter’s eyes meet his and Andrew watches as tears gather at the corners and spill over. He looks ruined on Andrew’s cock.
He pulls back, leaving Andrew’s dick to flop back against his shirt. “Hey,” Andrew complains, his voice full of gravel. Carter gives him a smile that sends heat through Andrew’s veins and he watches as Carter pulls his pants and underwear completely off, leaving his bottom half naked.
“I want you to fuck my mouth,” Carter says, his own voice scratchy with lust. Andrew nods quickly. It’s possibly the best idea anyone ever came up with.
Carter resumes his position between Andrew’s legs and guides Andrew’s hand back to rest on his head. Andrew gets with the program, and uses his hand to push Carter’s mouth down on his cock. He can hear Carter breathing heavily through his nose. He’s moaning, too, but it’s muffled by the cock going down his throat.
He does something with his tongue to the underside of Andrew’s dick and Andrew yells loudly as he’s pulsing into Carter’s mouth, down his throat. Before he can think twice, Andrew sits up a little, wrapping his hand around Carter’s throat to prevent him from swallowing.
“Wait.”
He opens his mouth, tongue out in invitation. Carter’s eyes widen and he rises and leans over Andrew, opening his mouth to let his spit and Andrew’s cum drop out of his mouth. He whimpers as he watches Andrew swallow it.
“Oh, fuck,” Carter mutters, scrambling to pull his own cock out. He only manages to get his pants partway down his thighs before he’s jerking himself off at a fast pace, and then he’s painting white stripes all over Andrew’ softening cock.
They watch each other silently as the endorphins from their orgasms fade, their breathing and heart rate returning to normal. Carter’s leaning against the counter for support, still between Andrew’s legs. Andrew sits up fully and puts his hands around Carter’s shoulders, bringing him in to rest his face against Andrew’s chest.
A sound filters up to him and he realizes Carter’s laughing, muted against his t-shirt. He pushes him back to look into his face. Carter’s laughter tapers off and he reaches up to press his lips to Andrew’s.
“Sweet heart, but a filthy mouth.”
Andrew knows by the look in his eyes that Carter’s not lodging a complaint. He has that feeling of lightheadedness again, an awareness of being seen, being accepted, and taken as he is. Just like the taste of Carter’s mouth, Andrew finds it addicting.
Life begins to intrude in the form of a text buzzing in on his phone, a glance at the clock on the wall. He has some shit to do to prep for the job. It’s time to get going.
He slides off the counter and grabs his pants, redressing. Carter pours himself a cup of coffee after restoring his own clothing to rights. He holds up a second mug at Andrew, but Andrew shakes his head.
“I need to get going. Got shit to do.”
Carter nods, reaching into the fridge to pull out some half and half.
“Thanks for the ride,” Andrew says. He steps up to Carter and gives him one more kiss, just because he can.
“Be careful,” Carter whispers to him, a look of concern filling his eyes.
“Always am,” Andrew says before turning away.
Sitting in traffic a little while later, he thinks about what Carter said about turning things around. If he were still into Catholicism, there’d be a clear path. Do some penance, do some Hail Marys. Check these boxes to receive your grace and forgiveness.
Andrew has an idea that maybe forgiveness needs to start with him. He needs to find a way to get past the things he’s done, the people he’s hurt, for himself. Wouldn’t that be easy?
He shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve for it to be easy. He carries his sins as a constant reminder and nothing he could ever do will balance those scales.
He thinks about Carter’s face hovering over him, the cum and spit hitting his tongue. It had felt like a kind of communion, even though he prickles at the blasphemous comparison. The words ‘do this in remembrance of me’ echo in his mind and the image is seared into his memory, pushing out the image of a tall brown-haired man lying scared and prostrate on the bank floor.
No matter what it feels like, Andrew knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Nothing he’ll ever do can change that.