Run and Hide Pt. 04

"It's all yours," Paul rasped. He pulled away to retrieve a condom and quickly sheathed himself. With more lube slathered on his straining erection, Paul finally, finally pushed into Ace.

Ace struggled to keep from crying out and sharing his bone-filling pleasure with the world -- or, at least, with the receptionist just outside the door.

Soon, though, all thoughts of being discovered melted from his mind, replaced with the overwhelming, blinding relief of having Paul inside him.

Their lovemaking turned frenzied and hungry, like they hadn't eaten for days, like this was a dream and they were racing the dawn.

"Not gonna last," Paul groaned. "So tight ... so fucking good ..."

"Do it," Ace grunted. "Fill me up." He reached down to his own painful erection, determined to join Paul in this release.

"Awww, fuck!" Paul moaned, entirely too loud. "Love you so much!"

Ace tripped over into ecstasy at that moment, in the most ferocious orgasm he'd ever known.

He was so out of it that he didn't register Paul's cleanup or maneuvering them to the floor, boneless from their exertions.

"I'm sorry I ran out like that," Paul said quietly when his breathing had returned to normal. He couldn't quite meet Ace's eyes. "When I saw that guy, I thought you were just playing with me and, well, I didn't want to need you more than you needed me."

That wrenched Ace's heart. He had done that to Paul. This is what his fears had led to.

"I'm sorry, too," Ace said.

"What for? That kid was basically a stalker, not your boy on the side."

"No, I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"About the gym rat?"

"About how I feel." Ace swallowed thickly. "I made you do all the hard work -- coming out, dealing with the fallout, the fear. And all the while, I just expected more and more from you. I didn't give you much, did I?"

Paul draped an arm around Ace's shoulders and tugged him to his side. "You have no idea how much you've given me." Ace felt the words rumble through Paul's chest and echo through him.

"Well, I should have said it out loud. Should have told you that I'm in love with you. That you're not alone." He looked up at Paul, wanting him to really hear that last part. "You're not alone. Not in this. Not ever again. Not as long as you want me."

Paul pressed his lips against Ace's head. "There will never be a time I'll stop wanting you," he whispered.

Ace hugged Paul tighter and let himself fall the rest of the way. Paul's heart beat into Ace's ear in time with his own. Their stubborn brains had finally caught up with their prescient bodies.

He held that pose as long as he could before reality intervened. They were mostly naked on the floor of Paul's office on a Tuesday afternoon. They needed to return to the world.

"Think Nicole is still out there?" Ace asked.

Paul groaned. "God, I hope not. This is going to be embarrassing."

Ace regretfully pulled away from Paul's embrace and stood. "Better get it over with." He pulled Paul up from the floor.

"Another bandaid to rip off," Paul muttered.

Nicole was, in fact, still at her desk when they tiptoed out of Paul's office.

"Everything okay, Dr. McDonnell?" she asked carefully.

"Very okay, Nicole," Paul said. He self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. Ace put a reassuring hand on the small of Paul's back. He hadn't been there for Paul for the other bandaids, but he would do what he could for this one.

"Um, Nicole, I want to introduce you to someone," Paul started.

"Well, I've sort of met Mr. Gillen already," she said slowly, as if she were talking to a child.

"Yeah, the thing is, that's not my name, actually," Ace confessed with a small smile.

Paul snuck his arm around Ace's waist. "This is Ace Hoffman. My boyfriend."

Ace's heart filled with pride for this brave man, and he felt his love lift and expand.

Nicole's face turned a bright shade of pink and she sat there speechless for probably the first time in her life. Ace could see comprehension fully dawning on her face as she added up the sounds she must have heard earlier and the still flushed and happy faces of the men in front of her.

"Nicole?" Paul said. "You okay there?"

Nicole shook her head as if to untangle her thoughts. Then she straightened and smiled.

"Well, this sorta explains things, huh?"

Ace blushed, wanting to apologize for how they acted in the office. And for the noises she most likely heard.

"I guess I don't have to wear that pushup bra to the office anymore, right?" she continued. "I feel kind of silly now."

Paul put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I should have told you a long time ago. But I was being a coward. I hope you can forgive me."

Nicole smiled, a real one this time. "No sweat, Dr. Z. I don't blame you at all. He's super cute."

She gathered up her purse and stood. "Well, I think I'll take off."

Ace could tell she was eager to leave, but he didn't think it was because she was uncomfortable. She looked like she was bursting with excitement. This must be a gossip hound's wet dream.

"Thanks, Nicole," Paul said. "For everything."

Nicole's smile widened and she scurried out the door.

"Those poor single girls," Ace said once the outer door closed, "teased by all those hot gay men."

"She seemed okay with it," Paul said with relief.

"You realize she's going to tell everyone she knows, right?" Ace said. "I've known her for a total of five minutes and I can already tell."

"Oh, she will. I know."

Ace rubbed Paul's arm. "You worried?"

"A little. I've dodged all the big guns so far. We'll see how my patients take the news."

"Oooh, speaking of delivering news, I better call Erik," Ace said. "He'll want a post-op report."

Paul reached for his phone. "That reminds me. Holly will not take kindly to any delay in getting this information. Plus, she'll love a break from my mom."

"Your mom? Are the parents in town?"

Paul smiled. "Oh, there is so much to catch you up on. I hope you don't have any plans tonight."

"You kidding? I have a looooong list of things I absolutely need to do tonight," Ace teased. "And they all involve nudity."

Paul grinned and pulled him into a deep, wet kiss, right there in the strip mall parking lot on a Tuesday afternoon in that smallish Kansas town. Paul didn't even hesitate.

Ace wondered what he could ever do for Paul that was as brave and as trusting as this huge change Paul has made for him. He pulled Paul's face back to look him in the eye.

"I am so lucky, you know that?"

Paul's smile crinkled all over his beautiful face.

"Just wait until we get naked again," he smirked. "I'll teach you a new meaning of lucky."

*****

From his silver sports car parked near the chiropractor's office, Tanner witnessed the passionate kiss his two new obsessions shared.

It left him equally annoyed and hard.

He'd been waiting for Paul to leave his office to see if he could catch him in a weak moment and talk him into a quick suck and fuck. Hell, it worked once with Ace; Paul couldn't be that much different. Blowjobs were like Tanner's calling card -- a friendly sample of his skills. It was really only polite to accept once offered.

Instead, it appeared that the two secret lovebirds had made up. Both their faces had the blissed-out look of the freshly fucked.

That sucked. And not in a good way.

But that didn't mean he'd lost. He didn't lose. Didn't believe in it.

Losing was giving up. And he didn't like to give up when he had a chance of winning.

Tanner still had a couple of options left. Doc Z didn't look all that thrilled at the idea of being out and proud -- and Tanner believed all fags should be upfront about it. When he met a guy who was in the closet, he wanted to forcibly drag him out of it.

Tanner would just have to keep his eyes open. He'd find a way to squeeze between Ace and Paul.

Chapter 16

He had no idea where to put his hands.

Of all the things that were on Paul's mind as they walked along Eighth Street toward Drayton's, the thing that bugged him most was that he couldn't decide what to do with his hands.

This was a date. A date-date, as Ace called it that day at the ballpark. Paul was on a date. With a man. In public. In his hometown. On a Friday night. He even made reservations, like you do for a date-date.

He had struggled over what to wear, what to do, where to go -- but his hands were tripping him up.

Oh, he knew where he wanted to put his hands. Answer: anywhere on Ace. But that old bogeyman of fear tickled at his periphery and made him doubt himself.

Paul thought he was getting past that old kneejerk reaction. He and Ace had spent three glorious nights in Ace's house, hungry for each other's touch as if it had been a year they were apart, not just a week. And it was perfect, it was home, it was exactly what he wanted.

But it wasn't what they needed. What his boyfriend needed.

Paul had thought all the bandages were good and ripped off, but he had forgotten the big, unwieldy bandage called "everyone else." Everyone as in his patients, his neighbors, random people on the street.

Those random eyes he felt boring a hole in him Eighth Street.

This should be basic stuff, stuff that other guys learned to do in their teens and twenties. How to walk next to a date. When to casually hold hands. But he didn't even know how close to walk next to Ace. Should their shoulders touch? Would it be weird for them to hold hands? Would people stare? And judge?

And there was that bogeyman again. His brain was warring with his heart, and the battle was sending conflicting messages to the nerves in his hands, which twitched at his sides.

Ace noticed. He playfully bumped against Paul's side.

"Relax," Ace said, "your tenseness is contagious."

"Relax, he says," Paul muttered under his breath. "Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a date? A date-date? I'm pretty sure there was a corsage involved."

"Well, I feel cheated," Ace pouted. "I didn't get a corsage. And I've already put out and everything."

This time Paul bumped him. "I'm trying to do this right, you know? I'm just so completely without practice."

Ace smiled softly. "You don't have to hold my hand, you know."

Paul blinked. "How did you --"

"You're sending a kind of sign language there," he said, pointing to Paul's still-twitching hands.

Paul stuffed his hands into his pockets to try to calm the tremors.

"Stop worrying that you're doing this wrong," Ace continued. "You're doing it. Period. You're incredible."

Paul stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk and stared into Ace's smiling, deep eyes. That bogeyman was being disarmed, blade by blade.

"I want to kiss you right now."

Ace grinned. "You do like to skip ahead, don't you?"

"The theme of our relationship," Paul grinned.

Which was an understatement. I fucked him before I knew his full name, and suddenly holding his hand is the big scary step.

"Well, you have my permission to kiss me or hold my hand or anything you're comfortable with," Ace said.

Paul nodded, determined. He pulled his hands from his pockets and took Ace's right hand in his left as they continued toward the restaurant.

Instantly, Paul was aware of two things: one, how perfectly right Ace's hand felt in his. How warm and living and anchoring it was. After all the dirty things they had done to each other with their hands (among other things), this simple touch was knocking his senses out.

And two: he could feel a thousand eyes pounce on him. Which was an exaggeration, of course. But he did catch some stares. Mostly, they were from smiling people, college girls who ran their eyes over the pair of them and sighed in appreciation. Old married couples who grinned at a display of love. Another pair of men who smiled at them as comrades.

But a few eyes came with frowns, and those, of course, only added to Paul's nerves.

Ace caught those same eyes. "Just ignore them," he murmured. "What did Eleanor Roosevelt say? No one can hurt you without your permission?"

"Something like that," Paul said. He stopped looking out for any more judging eyes and concentrated instead on the pleasant if foreign feeling of walking hand in hand with his man.

They walked past Drayton's outdoor seating area, and Paul caught the eager look in Ace's eyes. He wanted to sit outside tonight, Paul could tell.

Yet another test to pass.

Drayton's was a block off the busy Mass Street traffic, and on a warm midsummer Friday night, it was filled with people eager to relax and imbibe -- married couples who had wrangled babysitters for one evening's escape, groups of recent college grads flush with proper paychecks, professionals still in business suits letting deep glasses of wine loosen their neckties. This was not a place to bring kids, but it definitely was a place to bring a date.

Paul gave his name to the hostess, then paused. "Is there any way we could get a table on the outside patio?" He cut his eyes to Ace in time to catch a delighted smile.

"It might be a few minutes longer," the hostess warned.

"We'll wait," he decided.

They each picked up a glass of wine from the bar and settled into a plush loveseat in an open, artful -- and rapidly filling - waiting area. Paul bravely draped an arm along the back of the seat and encouraged Ace to settle in closer to him.

"How did you know I wanted to sit outside?" Ace smiled.

"Your face is easy to read," Paul said. "It's one of the best things about you."

"That I'm easy?"

"I meant your face," Paul said, serious. "Your lack of artifice. How deep your eyes are."

The eyes in question melted a little further.

"And, also, you're easy."

Ace jabbed him in the side and grinned.

As they waited for a table, Paul spotted a handful of familiar faces, mostly past or current patients. The sight of Dr. McDonnell with his arm around a handsome man caused a few double takes.

Paul thought about ignoring them all -- good and bad -- and focusing on his date, but he wanted everyone to know that he was comfortable with himself. He wanted them to see it in his eyes.

So he tugged Ace a little closer and kept his eyes roaming about the waiting area.

"You know, you've got to let everybody else take baby steps with you, too," Ace said softly.

Paul frowned in confusion.

"It took you most of the summer and thirty-six years to get to this point," Ace said. "Your patients might need some time, too."

"And if they don't want the time?" Paul pulled his arm away and shifted to face Ace on the loveseat. "If they already know what they think? If they immediately find a new chiropractor?"

"Then you didn't want them as patients in the first place," Ace said firmly. "I know you can't always pick your clients, but wouldn't you rather not have to give adjustments to known homophobes?"

"True." It sounded so simple when Ace framed it that way, but Paul knew that fewer patients could mean trouble for his practice. "And if a majority of my clientele turns out to be homophobic?"

Ace shook his head with a quirked grin. "I think you underestimate the population of Lawrence, Kansas. This isn't the back woods, you know. It's a college town. A pretty cool town even without the university influence, actually."

Before Paul could counter with another worst-case fear, the hostess called his name to show them to a table.

It was an ideal night for sitting outside for dinner, the heat of the day having melted away with the sunset. In another month, when August had the land fully in its grasp, even the evenings wouldn't be safe for such casual dining. Everyone would huddle in air-conditioned buildings for safety, leaving nature to those that could handle the heat. In other words: cicadas.

But tonight they could share the outdoors with bugs of lower volume and let the wind ruffle their hair and tease them with the aromas of other diners' meals.

Paul wanted to capture this moment and return to it every day. This is what life could feel like when he wasn't afraid. He could eat a meal with the man he loved on a pleasant evening and not let fear ruin it. He didn't have to feel -- or be -- alone.

"Mmmm, perfect," Ace hummed as he settled into his seat and looked around. His face glowed with happiness, and Paul was surprised to find that his man could look even more beautiful than before.

Paul realized he wasn't the only one experiencing new territory tonight. As much as this date was an exercise in pushing Paul's boundaries, it was also a long-overdue moment for Ace, who had to suffer through years of hovering near closets.

"Last time I was here with my friends Olive and Vince, I had some kind of decadent duck thing, and I nearly died of happiness. I made some embarrassingly loud happy noises," Ace said, scanning the menu. "I hear they change the menu a lot, but I really hope they kept that one."

"You should definitely have something that causes happy noises," Paul smiled.

Luckily for Ace, the decadent duck was on the menu, so they both ordered it and made almost-orgasmic sounds when the first taste hit their tongues.

As they ate, they talked about everything and nothing. Paul gave updates on Steven and Holly's wedding plans, and Ace told stories of his travels and the places he'd lived. It was easy to think they were the only ones in the world.

Until the world interrupted.

An older couple was slowly progressing toward the exit when the gray-haired woman caught sight of Paul through the restaurant's large windows facing the outdoor patio and lit up in a smile. Valerie Martinson, one of Paul's first patients in Lawrence, changed course and headed for their table, with her husband in tow.

"It's my favorite chiropractor, out of the office and out on the town," she announced. "What's the occasion?"

"Mrs. Martinson, how's your back tonight?" Paul said, taking her hand in a gentle handshake.

"Oh, still going strong, my dear," she said. She turned to Ace and said, "I always feel years younger after I see Dr. McDonnell, you know. My George gets so jealous." She leaned down closer to Ace. "And if I were a few years younger, he'd have good reason to be."

Ace grinned up at her and whispered, "Me too."

Paul looked over to the George in question, whose face was twisted in a half smile, half grimace. George must have added up Paul plus Ace and became supremely uncomfortable with the result.

Valerie had done the same equation, but hadn't quite reached the sum. "So, who's this young man here?"

Paul cleared his suddenly tight throat. "This is my boyfriend, Ace Hoffman."

Ace gently shook Valerie's hand and offered to shake George's, but the older man stepped back like he suddenly smelled something foul.

"Oh!" Valerie chirped. "Why, I had no idea! This is --" She stopped and looked at her husband. "Well, what a surprise! Isn't it a surprise, George?"

George grunted his agreement. "We need to go, Valerie."

"Right. Mustn't interrupt their date." She squeezed Paul's hand briefly. "It is so good to see you out."

Ace coughed on his drink. She didn't mean it that way, of course.

Paul swallowed roughly. "So, will I still see you for your appointment next month?" he asked softly.

"Valerie!" George called sharply from a few steps away.

Valerie leaned in to Paul. "Absolutely," she whispered.

Paul smiled in gratitude, then caught George's persistent scowl over Valerie's shoulder.

Ace nudged his foot under the table, which brought Paul's attention back to his date.

"Well," Paul sighed shakily, "that was --"

"Not half bad," Ace finished.

"Which half were you watching?"

"The half that wasn't a grumpy old man."

"I hate to break it to you, but I treat a lot of grumpy old men."

"Well, while you were focused on George's sour puss, I'm seeing all kinds of smiles being sent our way," Ace said. "Actually, a couple of them worry me. I'm going to have to fight some guys off, I think."