Pieces and Parts, Chapter 9/?
Luke stroked his cock slowly as he looked at Reid's naked image on the computer screen, doing the same. It was not as good as the real thing, but at least he could see Reid while they talked and relieved one another.
"Reid?"
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait any more.”
“Let go Luke. It’s OK. I’m here.“
Reid’s eyes penetrated deep through the screen, embracing Luke in ways that his touch could not at that moment.
“No, no. I don’t mean that. Well, I mean….I’ll take care of that in a minute. Listen.” He drew a deep breath and dipped his head down slightly then lifted his eyes to gaze at Reid through his eyelashes . “I just meant that I can’t wait to see you anymore.”
Reid playfully held both hands up flat, palms toward the screen and connected his thumbs, creating a half square around the lower half of his face with his hands.
“Can’t you see me now?”
Luke chuckled softly, though his face remained serious.
“I miss you so much. I just didn’t know it would be this hard to be away from you and…to not be with you for days.”
“I know baby, I miss you too, I do. It’s two more days. I’ll be home soon. I promise.”
“What if something happens Reid? What if….”
“Luke…”
“I know, but still….Reid….”
Water began to flood his deep brown eyes and Reid immediately grew concerned.
“Luke…Luke…look at me baby. Look right here at me.”
Luke blinked the tears from him eyes and looked closely at the contours of Reid’s face. It was so sharp, and yet so warm and soft at the same time, especially when he spoke so tenderly to Luke like this.
“Can you see me?”
Luke sniffled softly. “Yes.”
“Look at me”.
“Okay”.
Reid slowly lifted his right arm and reached across his upper chest, thumping two fingers earnestly on the strong left muscle that rose and fell with his breath.
“I feel you Luke. Right here. Everyday. All the time. You’re never far because you’re right here with me. Right here.” He thumped his chest again for emphasis. “We’re not apart. Do you understand?”
Luke mimicked Reid’s motions, drawing his hand to his chest and closed his eyes.
“I feel you too Reid. I do.”
After they stole a few more moments together, reaffirmed their commitment and reluctantly parted, Luke sat quietly alone in their bedroom.
The moments like this are when I miss him the most. It’s so hushed in the mornings, but even when we talk on the phone or I see him on the webcam, there are so many things about him that I crave in the stillness of the day’s early hours. It’s as though a part of me is hollow.
They’re like electricity.
I’ve seen the wonders of an electrical charge as I learned about construction with the new neurological wing. Brightly colored wires, conducting different poles and types of charges, allow the current to flow through a variety of materials and do the business of healing the sick. It lights the halls. Brings oxygen to a dying man. Empowers a doctor to operate and excise a malignant tumor. Supplies a premature baby with warmth and enough time to develop, thus ensuring a new life. In nature, electricity also stems and flows from the earth in phenomena like thunderstorms and volcanoes. Its power is both life-changing and potentially deadly. It can be both crushing and delicate.
Reid’s are always electric… always. They have similar influence, possessing benefits that are both sinewy and graceful. They have expeditiously learned to anticipate my movements and emotions, flowing like the energy from lightening as it reads the planet’s atmospheric conditions. They create sensations, inside and out, from the most superficial to most profound. But they never hurt, never harm, never crush me. They soothe and heal and ignite our connection, over and over again.
They’re like the kitchen at the Snyder farm.
There’s a feeling that hits me like a brick every time I walk into the kitchen at the farm. It’s a safe place for me…comforting even. It holds and represents so many different things that dapple the landscape of my daily existence. The people I love are all there. I can sit with my brother and sisters to help them with homework, watch a silly movie or build a fort in the living room floor. My dad might be there and he is my touchstone. We are joined not by blood but rather by heart. I can talk to him about any problem in my life, expecting only acceptance in return. He might drag me to the barn to bale hay and burn off energy or saddle up the horses for a cleansing ride; he always knows the right remedy. Grandma Emma will sit me down at the table, pinch my cheek and declare me too skinny. Then she’ll lay an incredible spread of food around me and watch as I enjoy every morsel. Mom…as many difficulties as we have had, I love my Mom. We butt heads sometimes because she still treats me like her baby boy but I feel like she’s come to understand how happy I really am. The other Snyders wander in and out of the kitchen too, always laying a hand on my shoulder or asking about the smile that graces my face.
All of it - the love, support and caring that surrounds me in that physical space -invokes pictures of Reid and especially of these. When I am near him, these are never far away. They often find me before I find them. I can feel them from across the room. The contact, real or anticipated, makes me whole. They bring about so many emotions. Protection. Caring. Warmth. Adoration. Respect. Friendship. Love. The visceral reactions span a wide range as well, as I shudder, shake, beg, come, release or rest. They work miracles.
They’re like alcohol.
I still think about drinking. Everyday. I understand that this normalcy will always be a part of my life an alcoholic. I still think about sitting at a bar stool with a beer, wrapping my grip around the long-neck and pulling the cool dark glass to my lips. All I want is just one calming, satisfying sip. One sip could rid me of my worries. It could calm my fears. It could also kill me.
To some, it could seem unfair or disrespectful for me to compare these to the evil potions that made my life a living hell and nearly took it away from me…and from Reid. But I am fortunate, even in the midst of the Walsh-Grimalidi-Snyder freak show that is my life, to have emerged as a glass half-full kind of person. I know that these lifelines to my future could also be construed as an addiction of sorts, but they give me everything I need. With them, I don’t need alcohol. It lies in the background, like a lesson learned, but is conquered as long as these are near me.
Luke was thinking about Reid’s gorgeous healing hands. Tapered. Penetrating. Masterful. Thrilling. When they touched his skin, every sense stirred. When they stroked his cock, his eyes watered with emotion. When they massaged him deep, he was swept away.
I’ll make it through the next two days. Reid is always here.
Luke raised his hand, mimicking Reid’s earlier motion. As he tapped two strong fingers against his chest, he felt his own strength.
"Reid?"
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait any more.”
“Let go Luke. It’s OK. I’m here.“
Reid’s eyes penetrated deep through the screen, embracing Luke in ways that his touch could not at that moment.
“No, no. I don’t mean that. Well, I mean….I’ll take care of that in a minute. Listen.” He drew a deep breath and dipped his head down slightly then lifted his eyes to gaze at Reid through his eyelashes . “I just meant that I can’t wait to see you anymore.”
Reid playfully held both hands up flat, palms toward the screen and connected his thumbs, creating a half square around the lower half of his face with his hands.
“Can’t you see me now?”
Luke chuckled softly, though his face remained serious.
“I miss you so much. I just didn’t know it would be this hard to be away from you and…to not be with you for days.”
“I know baby, I miss you too, I do. It’s two more days. I’ll be home soon. I promise.”
“What if something happens Reid? What if….”
“Luke…”
“I know, but still….Reid….”
Water began to flood his deep brown eyes and Reid immediately grew concerned.
“Luke…Luke…look at me baby. Look right here at me.”
Luke blinked the tears from him eyes and looked closely at the contours of Reid’s face. It was so sharp, and yet so warm and soft at the same time, especially when he spoke so tenderly to Luke like this.
“Can you see me?”
Luke sniffled softly. “Yes.”
“Look at me”.
“Okay”.
Reid slowly lifted his right arm and reached across his upper chest, thumping two fingers earnestly on the strong left muscle that rose and fell with his breath.
“I feel you Luke. Right here. Everyday. All the time. You’re never far because you’re right here with me. Right here.” He thumped his chest again for emphasis. “We’re not apart. Do you understand?”
Luke mimicked Reid’s motions, drawing his hand to his chest and closed his eyes.
“I feel you too Reid. I do.”
After they stole a few more moments together, reaffirmed their commitment and reluctantly parted, Luke sat quietly alone in their bedroom.
The moments like this are when I miss him the most. It’s so hushed in the mornings, but even when we talk on the phone or I see him on the webcam, there are so many things about him that I crave in the stillness of the day’s early hours. It’s as though a part of me is hollow.
They’re like electricity.
I’ve seen the wonders of an electrical charge as I learned about construction with the new neurological wing. Brightly colored wires, conducting different poles and types of charges, allow the current to flow through a variety of materials and do the business of healing the sick. It lights the halls. Brings oxygen to a dying man. Empowers a doctor to operate and excise a malignant tumor. Supplies a premature baby with warmth and enough time to develop, thus ensuring a new life. In nature, electricity also stems and flows from the earth in phenomena like thunderstorms and volcanoes. Its power is both life-changing and potentially deadly. It can be both crushing and delicate.
Reid’s are always electric… always. They have similar influence, possessing benefits that are both sinewy and graceful. They have expeditiously learned to anticipate my movements and emotions, flowing like the energy from lightening as it reads the planet’s atmospheric conditions. They create sensations, inside and out, from the most superficial to most profound. But they never hurt, never harm, never crush me. They soothe and heal and ignite our connection, over and over again.
They’re like the kitchen at the Snyder farm.
There’s a feeling that hits me like a brick every time I walk into the kitchen at the farm. It’s a safe place for me…comforting even. It holds and represents so many different things that dapple the landscape of my daily existence. The people I love are all there. I can sit with my brother and sisters to help them with homework, watch a silly movie or build a fort in the living room floor. My dad might be there and he is my touchstone. We are joined not by blood but rather by heart. I can talk to him about any problem in my life, expecting only acceptance in return. He might drag me to the barn to bale hay and burn off energy or saddle up the horses for a cleansing ride; he always knows the right remedy. Grandma Emma will sit me down at the table, pinch my cheek and declare me too skinny. Then she’ll lay an incredible spread of food around me and watch as I enjoy every morsel. Mom…as many difficulties as we have had, I love my Mom. We butt heads sometimes because she still treats me like her baby boy but I feel like she’s come to understand how happy I really am. The other Snyders wander in and out of the kitchen too, always laying a hand on my shoulder or asking about the smile that graces my face.
All of it - the love, support and caring that surrounds me in that physical space -invokes pictures of Reid and especially of these. When I am near him, these are never far away. They often find me before I find them. I can feel them from across the room. The contact, real or anticipated, makes me whole. They bring about so many emotions. Protection. Caring. Warmth. Adoration. Respect. Friendship. Love. The visceral reactions span a wide range as well, as I shudder, shake, beg, come, release or rest. They work miracles.
They’re like alcohol.
I still think about drinking. Everyday. I understand that this normalcy will always be a part of my life an alcoholic. I still think about sitting at a bar stool with a beer, wrapping my grip around the long-neck and pulling the cool dark glass to my lips. All I want is just one calming, satisfying sip. One sip could rid me of my worries. It could calm my fears. It could also kill me.
To some, it could seem unfair or disrespectful for me to compare these to the evil potions that made my life a living hell and nearly took it away from me…and from Reid. But I am fortunate, even in the midst of the Walsh-Grimalidi-Snyder freak show that is my life, to have emerged as a glass half-full kind of person. I know that these lifelines to my future could also be construed as an addiction of sorts, but they give me everything I need. With them, I don’t need alcohol. It lies in the background, like a lesson learned, but is conquered as long as these are near me.
Luke was thinking about Reid’s gorgeous healing hands. Tapered. Penetrating. Masterful. Thrilling. When they touched his skin, every sense stirred. When they stroked his cock, his eyes watered with emotion. When they massaged him deep, he was swept away.
I’ll make it through the next two days. Reid is always here.
Luke raised his hand, mimicking Reid’s earlier motion. As he tapped two strong fingers against his chest, he felt his own strength.