Page 4 of Everything Changes

DeSantis raised his eyebrows, his look inscrutable. “I’ve also been through two years of medical training, including combat medicine and trauma care. I’ve already done one tour in the Sandbox, taken care of guys shredded by bullets and IEDs. I think I can handle this.”

While he spoke, he drew up some lidocaine in a syringe and efficiently injected around the wound, numbing it up. Carey shut up then, letting him work, watching as the medic first thoroughly irrigated the wound with saline, then threaded a suture needle and closed the gash with a series of tiny, perfect stitches. He slathered it with antibiotic ointment and bandaged it tightly. It took all of five minutes.

“Come find me in seven days and I’ll take the stitches out. If you have any redness or swelling, see any pus, come back sooner.”

Carey nodded.

“I mean it, Marine. Don’t try to be a tough guy; you don’t fuck around with infection. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Carey mumbled, chastened and a little ashamed of the assumptions he’d made.

“Cut out the ‘sir’ bullshit unless there’s an officer around. I’m just Doc, or Jase,” the other man said easily as he packed up the bloody gloves and gauze in a red biohazard bag.

A week later Carey found Jase, presenting him with an arm wrapped in a pristine bandage. The wound was clean and pink, no signs of pus. Jase raised his eyebrows.

“Wow, good hygiene, Marine. Most guys come back and the wound is in almost worse shape than when they got the fucking thing.”

Carey just smiled faintly and shrugged, watching as Jase gracefully snipped the stitches loose with a pair of surgical shears and gently teased them free of Carey’s skin with some tweezers. There was a faint railroad track-looking scar, but other than that, it had healed perfectly.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Jase said with a wink.

A BURST of laughter from a nearby group of people brought Carey back to the present with a jolt. He stood up to throw his snack trash away, looking at his watch and wondering where Jase was. Carey thought briefly about going to find him and then thought better of it. Jase knew he was here, and he’d be back when he could. Carey grabbed another bottle of water and settled down to wait.

CHAPTER 2

JASE GROANED, arching his back, his head thumping against the wall. His hands were buried in Jayden’s thick blond hair, holding him still as Jase fucked his mouth hard. Jayden was gripping Jase’s thighs, bracing himself, his fingers digging into the bunched muscle.

“Gonna come, Jay,” Jase panted, and Jayden redoubled his efforts, his head bobbing faster as he increased the suction, one of his hands sliding between Jase’s thighs to fondle his heavy balls. “Christ,” Jase moaned as he came hard, hot come flooding the condom sheathing his cock.

He pulled out abruptly, collapsing back against the wall on shaky knees. No matter how annoying the little fuck actually was, he could really suck a dick. Jase blew out a breath, the orgasm releasing the tension and adrenaline that always flooded him during and right after a concert. Jayden looked up at him worshipfully from his position on his knees, his mouth reddened and swollen from the blowjob.

Jase pulled off the full condom, tying it off and pitching it at a nearby wastebasket, then yanked on some clean boxer briefs and jeans, leaving the sweaty leather pants in a heap on the floor. He lifted Jayden to his feet, grimacing as he flung himself into Jase’s arms, clinging.

“It was good, wasn’t it, Jase?” he whispered in Jase’s ear, and Jase hugged him briefly before pushing him gently back.

“Yeah, it was good, Jay,” he said. It was true enough, and it had served its purpose. Eventually Jase would have to nip this in the bud. He had no intention of ever taking it further than a casual fuck, and it was obvious Jayden was starting to have hopes.

Jase put his arm around Jayden’s waist and steered him toward the dressing room door, eager to have him gone.

“I have my friend here tonight, and I haven’t seen him in a while,” Jase said, opening the door and subtly, he hoped, pushing the other man through it. “I’m gonna finish changing and go spend a little time with him.”

“Okay, Jase. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Jayden stood on his toes, lifting his mouth for a kiss, but Jase pretended not to see it and shut the door right in Jayden’s face.

Jase collapsed onto a nearby chair, really needing to get back out there, but he didn’t want Carey to see him with the obvious sex flush on his face, the sheen of sweat on his forehead making it clear what had been going on.

Carey Everett. Jase scrubbed his hands over his face as he blew out a huge breath. He’d known Carey for four years and had been in love with him for at least half that. The first time he’d laid eyes on the kid with the sexy Black Irish looks, Jase had been lost. He still remembered his first glimpse of Carey on that training field back at Pendleton, the lean but muscular body, the black hair and blue eyes with lashes so thick and lush it almost looked like the kid had been wearing eyeliner. Jase had fallen in instalust, couldn’t take his eyes off the young Marine private with the shuttered expression and wariness in his eyes that said, “Back off.”

Over the next few months, Jase’s fascination with Carey’s looks had been enhanced by his genuine liking for the younger man. Carey was a smart, dedicated Marine, and after his initial aloofness had worn off, the natural leader in him had been allowed to shine through. Carey was soon promoted and made a squad leader. He had a quiet intensity about him, a deliberate thoughtfulness. He was never rash or impulsive and had a maturity that belied his young age.

Jase shook the memories off, his hands clutching his hair. Once his heartbeat had slowed to normal and he felt the flush recede from his face, he stepped into the small bathroom off of the dressing room and washed his hands, splashing his face with water. He looked at himself in the mirror, grimacing at his reflection, then made his way out of the dressing room and back to the party.

As he entered the crowded, noisy room, Jase scanned for Carey, seeing him sitting with a small group of people, including Jase’s bandmates. Carey looked comfortable with the group, adding an occasional comment, his lips quirking. He was quiet, serious, but when he smiled at you full on, it was like the sun coming out. Jase lived for those rare smiles, and when they came, they always made Jase’s chest ache.

Carey was wearing a royal blue T-shirt, fitted but not overly tight, and belted dark jeans. His black hair was carelessly styled, and the only accessory he wore was a large dive watch on one wrist. As Jase watched, Carey stood and walked to a large trashcan, throwing away what looked like an empty bottle of water. Jase’s experienced eyes caught a very slight limp, and he winced.

The eight-hundred-mile drive Carey had just done from southern Colorado must have taken its toll. Jase had tried to get him to fly out for his visit, but Carey had laughed over the phone and said he didn’t mind driving, that dealing with crowded airports and the security hassles that were usually involved with his prosthetic leg were more trouble than they were worth.