Divine Intervention Read online

  “Are you okay?” Bart asked, pulling away.

  Evan moved his mouth to Bart’s neck, not wanting to answer with words. He kissed his ear, and then, taking both of his hands and bunching up Bart’s hair, moved to the soft skin under his ear. He kissed his neck, breathing in the scent of Bart. He smiled into his neck, recognizing the deodorant as something that Liam used to keep inside his locker at the gym.

  “You smell nice,” Evan said. He hovered his lips above Bart’s ear.

  “Thanks. I—I didn’t know…”

  “Shh,” Evan said. “It’s okay. I like it. I like you.”

  Evan blinked a few times after the statement, and then moved to kiss Bart again. He put an arm up in its place. Evan’s heart sunk all of a sudden, worried that what had started off so sweet was now going to end.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Bart said with a smile. He moved his hands back to Evan’s waist, pushing whatever small space was left between their bodies. They angled their faces, so their noses wouldn’t touch. Eyes still open, still glancing at one another furtively, the two men remained quiet for some time.

  “I didn’t know you were into me.”

  Evan laughed. Wasn’t that always the way? Liking someone from afar, not wanting to get hurt, and then missing the chance.

  “You know the song ‘Why Can’t I Touch it?’ from the Buzzcocks?”

  “Yeah, but I…”

  “I know, you don’t really like them. But that song. It reminds me of us. In a small way, you know.”

  Bart seemed to think about a long time. Evan began to feel as if he felt too much, and went back to kissing his lips in slow pecks, sometimes opening his mouth to allow his tongue to come out. Bart pressed his hand against his chest again when the gears in his head had finally made the connection.

  “Since then?” Bart asked. He stepped away from him far enough so that Evan could see his expression. Wide eyed and almost crestfallen, heartbroken.

  Evan nodded, as if he had confessed to stealing. “Yeah, that long. I know. But things happen. Get in the way.” Evan trailed his fingers along Bart’s collar. Bart didn’t seem to respond.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Evan cooed. “We’re doing something now.”

  “Yeah, but…” Bart said, biting his lips. A devilish grin spread over him. “We just have a lot of time to make up for.”

  Evan smiled, opening his mouth to say another quip—but he forgot the punch line as soon as he felt his flesh on flesh again. Bart kissed him with the leading force this time. He was the one, opening his mouth and allowing—practically urging Evan’s tongue inside. Their bodies began to sway rhythmically as Bart slid his hands over Evan’s waist and around to his back, clutching him tightly. The speed picked up, and soon, it was more than just fingerprints on one another’s skin. Bart’s palm was on Evan’s lower back, touching his skin and then gripping his ass.

  “I—I don’t have anything,” Bart blurted out, taking a step back and looking around. “And this is Liam’s place. Maybe we..?”

  Just as Evan was about to open his mouth, the phone rang again. Both men turned their attention to the landline and waited for the beep.

  “Hey guys, it’s Liam. Pretty late right now. Things kind of took a turn for the better for me over there. I’ll tell you about it all in the morning. Yes, that’s right, in the morning. If you’re still their waiting for me…Jesus, guys. Get a life. Go home. Or stay on the couch. Whatever. Live your lives as you see fit and I’ll see you both in the morning. Denny’s? As always. I’ll text you too…and—”

  The machine cut off. The distinct cadence of Liam’s voice led Evan to believe he was either drunk or…happy. Really, really happy. Maybe he had found another girl of his dreams and was pulling another 500 Days of Summer with the next perfect woman who walked into his life. Or maybe he had gotten back together with Sarah. Either way, the plight that had once stood in their way now opened like a wide berth.

  Bart looked at Evan again, biting his lips. Evan took hold of both his hands and pulled his body close to him again. He kissed his cheek.

  “We don’t have to leave,” he said. “It’s like fate right now.”

  “A little late, sure,” Bart added. “But I don’t think it’s fate.”

  “Whatever you want to call it,” Evan said, looking at Bart. He kissed his cheek and then placed his hand over the spot he just kissed as he met his mouth again. This time, the embrace was longer, deeper. As if they meant business, and began to merge into one another. As if they were fusing themselves together, finding the cracks in the other person’s body via their skin and figuring out how to put themselves back together again after being split and lost for so long.

  Bart pulled away again. “Right. We still have no condoms. I don’t know if Liam has any, but I doubt it.”

  Evan smiled. “Reach into my back pocket.”

  Bart’s eyes lit up. He moved his hand, cupping Evan’s ass before he clasped the wrapper that was familiar to them both.

  Evan smiled again, watching as Bart’s eyes changed from excited to sultry.

  “Yes,” Evan said. “Yes. I think this will work.”

  Evan placed both of his hands over Bart’s cheeks, taking his face close to his. He kissed him with new energy than before. Whereas they moved slowly in the kitchen, the two men now rushed toward the couch, a definite end to their night ahead of them. After so much waiting, Evan felt as if he was going to finally get what he wanted.

  Bart moved some magazines and kicked some of the blankets off the couch. He spread out the cushions and then glazed over at Evan.

  “I swear, it’s a lot comfier than it looks. I spent many nights on here, but not having sex. We could try Liam’s bed…but that’s a little weird.”

  “Take your pants off,” Evan said with another smile. He ran his hand along Bart’s waist to help. “I don’t care where, just off.”

  Bart moved from his jittery self to take another step closer to Evan. He seemed to oscillate emotions as if he was a kaleidoscope. Suddenly nervous, sultry, and then he was taking his shirt off over his head. Small bits of hair stood on end via static electric and then he curled it over his ears. His chest hair was a shade darker than what was on his head and his ribs expanded furiously as he took in more air. Evan took a step forward and placed his hand over that heart. He kissed Bart, using barely-there lips, and then went for his belt with more precision. He un-looped it quickly and then asked Bart to help him with the rest. His boxers emerged and Evan snuck a peek out of the corner of his eyes. Plain white boxers, nothing magical about them.

  “Very nice,” Evan said with a coy smile. Bart rolled his eyes.

  “I told you, no magic underwear.”

  “But you also said you’re still Mormon. Somewhere in there,” Evan said. He placed his hand over Bart’s heart. “In here?”

  Bart closed his eyes. Evan swore that he felt his entire body warm under the caress.

  “Do you know what I really learned on that road trip?” Bart asked.

  “What?”

  “That there is no need to go into the desert to repent. Sometimes, you can do just as much with another body. You can explore it with your hands, finding the crevices and contours.” Bart stepped forward and trailed his fingers around Evan’s T-shirt. He lifted it up, allowing Evan to remove his arm from his chest and comply as he listened intently to Bart’s small speech. Bart placed his hands on Evan’s waist, touching the slightly more soft plains of his body. Evan’s love handles rolled over the side of his pants, his belt and pants suddenly too tight and oppressive.

  “And, and?” Evan asked. He looked down at where Bart’s hands trembled over Evan’s chest. Bart cupped the St. Valentine medallion in his hand.

  “What?” Evan asked, his voice weary.

  “Nothing. I’m just looking at Valentine here.” Bart’s blue eyes gave him a subtle flash of recognition. “I thought you weren’t a romantic?”

  “He was important for
philosophy.”

  “I’m calling bullshit on that.”

  “I’m calling ignorance.”

  “Then enlighten me,” Bart said with a wide smile. He places his hand on Evan’s waist, cupping him with a strong and sturdy grip.

  “But you were in the middle of—”

  “Shh. I can tell that. I’ll remember it. Tell me yours, first.”

  Evan sighed and sat up. “Valentine was a saint, obviously. A martyr. He was beheaded at the end of the story.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Bart teased.

  “No,” Evan huffed, trying to find the right words. He looked down as he talked. “I like him because even though martyrs are supposed to do everything for everyone else, Valentine didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be ignored or taken for granted. After he cured a judge’s daughter of blindness, he began to write to her in prison. He signed his letters ‘Your Valentine.’ That’s why we send cards on Valentine ‘s Day. It’s not just a Hallmark holiday, though they exploit it. And I like how even he needed to have someone receive his message. He needed to write love letters. Not to mention this woman, who couldn’t see her entire life, and how it must have been a relief to finally get something to hold in her hands again.” Evan swallowed and realized that the room had become eerily silent again. He ran his hand through his hair and then touched Bart’s arm. “I guess I just like it. Even if I don’t really buy into the rest of the religious hoopla, I dig this.”

  Bart’s hands moved against Evan’s skin, touching the medal in his hand and holding it tightly. “I understand, trust me. And I liked that story. It fits you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Bart said as he took a step forward. He pressed their lips together, smiling into the kiss. Evan reciprocated, allowing their tongues to touch again. My God, Evan thought. Maybe there was something to that while speaking in tongues thing.

  He touched Bart’s shoulders and looked at him with a small smile. “So tell me more,” Bart asked.

  “The rest that I know about love, I learned from my mouth.” Evan paused, his eyes suddenly open. “Or you know, not love and really just Friday night lust. Like with-”

  “Shh,” Bart said. “It’s fine. I know what you mean.”

  They kissed, again, dragging it out because foreplay was the best part, and because they had been waiting for this for so long. A few seconds more couldn’t hurt.

  “So what did you learn in the desert?” Evan asked. “You weren’t quite done.”

  “Wasn’t I?”

  Bart moved his hands against Evan, touching the top of his belt loop and working his fingers through it slowly. The beginning parts of Evan’s boxers stuck up. Black labels, most likely his superhero ones. Evan felt his skin prickle with embarrassment at the thought of stepping out of something from Marvel, especially after talking about Valentine.

  “I also learned,” Bart went on again, “that it was possible to believe in everyday life. Not everything in the world was cosmic or even all revelations about the biggest parts of our lives. The smallest realization, the smallest connections, mattered.”

  “Like what?” Evan said. Arousal percolated inside of him, making him want to rush through the entire act. If it were up to Evan’s libido, Bart would already be naked. They would already be inside one another, exploring with tongues. But Evan had done the lust disease. He had done the alleyways and meaningless blowjobs. Bart’s voice was low and like a whisper, as if he was speaking a sacred text straight from memory. But he was pretty sure Joseph Smith never wrote anything about this.

  “Yes,” Bart said, moving down to his knees. He undid Evan’s fly and pushed his pants to his ankles.

  Evan could barely more enough to step over them. The fact that he could now see the top of Bart’s dick and what that meant was enough for him to come in that moment. He concentrated. He counted out the rosary beads from his childhood and waited as Bart’s voice came out of his mouth and travelled into his ears.

  “I learned that everyday could be special. And that you could worship someone’s body as much as you could worship a text. Every story was a love story, right? Even a man in the desert longs for water. He makes a mirage of his mind. Given all we need, we make a mirage of what we truly love.”

  Bart looked up at Evan as he began to pull down his boxers. He bit his lip, seemingly to lose all confidence that came out of his voice as he spoke. Maybe he has memorized this, Evan thought. Maybe this is what he used in the back of bathroom stalls before he took home dates. But as soon as Evan emerged from his boxers, Bart smiled. He held Evan in his hand and began to pump him slowly

  “But the best way to still worship someone, was to bow to your knees,” Bart said, and then took Evan inside his mouth. He snaked his hands around his waist and cupped them over his ass. Evan let out a low moan from the back of his throat and threaded his fingers through Bart’s hair. He felt his tip hit the back of his throat. He let out another low moan. Chanting, the whole thing felt like chanting, Evan thought. He murmured Bart’s name on his lips and at the tip of his tongue as Bart leaned forward more, taking out Evan’s cock and licking the underside before he put it back in. The silence of the apartment became eclipsed with something else; a low level buzz of existence between bodies. The white noise of men as they figured out how to put themselves back together.

  “Bart, Bart,” Evan called. “I’m going to—soon.”

  Bart pulled away his mouth, but still held on to the base of Evan’s cock in his hands. Not to be cruel, he stroked his fingers up and down the shaft until Evan could open his eyes again. When he did, his lids hung low on his eyes and his lips turned up in a smile.

  Bart got to his feet. As Evan stepped forward, he removed the last bits of clothing he had on. He slid his fingers around Bart’s waist, holding his ass through fabric before he placed his hand up inside one of his boxer’s wide legs.

  “Are you okay?” Evan asked when Bart’s eyes closed in concentration.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Bart said. He opened his gaze and stared up at Evan. Evan continued to push his fingers up Bart’s pants, feeling the deep heat of his body. He pressed his fingers to his entrance, all the while their eye contract never breaking.

  “Yeah,” Bart said, “Yeah.” He bit his lips.

  Evan went deeper, not inserting himself completely, but touching the outside of Bart. This was how they were going to do it, Evan thought. He would go into him. Evan had gotten used to life as a versatile bottom, usually fucking one or so out of every five guys at the club. He liked being on top, but there was a different type of power dynamic set up when he was the one thrusting. He became very away of how he was entering someone else, taking their body and making it blend with his own. Everyone liked to think that the top was the one who had the power and could do whatever they wanted. Certainly some guys at the clubs thought so. But that wasn’t quite true. The top was really an observer, someone who kept their eyes open and watched for the right cues. Who pressed themselves against someone and waited for the right time to go. There was a lot of timing to consider being a top. A lot of preparation, a lot of waiting. But already, inside of his arms, against the crook of his elbow and against the heat of his body, Evan was reading Bart. He saw his facial expressions and knew what they meant. Evan’s arousal quickened inside of him. As Bart brought his hand over Evan’s cock again, Evan thought he would lose it at that moment.

  “I want you,” Bart said.

  Evan smiled.

  “That much is obvious,” Evan said, moving his hand away from Bart and over his erection. He shoved the boxers down over his pale legs and small hips and then cupped his skin eagerly in his palms. Bart hissed air through his teeth and then pressed their mouths together again. Both men jerked one another off aggressively, almost territorially, until Evan finally whispered “enough” into Bart’s ears.

  When they moved their bodies away from one another, the skin that was once touching became instantly cold. Evan shivered as he dug through
the pockets of his jeans on the ground. He pulled out the condom and the small packet of travel lube he always carried with him when he went to clubs. You could never be too careful now. Always bring condoms for safety, and lube for ease of access. When Evan was naked and fully removed from his boxers, Bart grinned..

  “What?” Evan asked, his voice quick and playful.

  “Like a boy scout,” Bart said. “Always be prepared.”

  “Shut up and turn around,” Evan said, hitting Bart gently on the shoulder.

  “Not yet,” Bart said, arousal replacing the playful tone from before. He moved an arm to Evan’s side again, so their bodies fit together while they stood up. They looked at one another in the eyes and dropped all games and pretensions.

  “I can’t believe my wandering in the desert shtick got you.”

  “You had me long before that.”

  Bart smiled, almost pained, as if Evan had passed yet another test. Evan placed his free hand against Bart’s face and kissed him again. Their cocks hit one another’s thighs and waists. Evan moved his hand to Bart’s and then placed it on the arm of the couch. They moved together to the next step.

  Bart positioned himself so that he faced the back of the couch. To his left side was the arm rest, so that Bart had a comfortable corner. Both of his legs were on the couch, and he was bent at the knee and waist. He leaned his torso forward, thrusting his ass to meet Evan and allowing for enough space for Bart to touch himself. Evan placed the condom down to the right side and opened the lube with his teeth. He covered his fingers and then, moved his other hand up and down Bart’s back. He placed his palm at the back of his neck, after holding Bart’s hair in a makeshift ponytail for a moment. He tugged at it gently.

  “You ready?”

  Bart nodded, knocking some of his stray hair over his shoulder. Evans stopped and pulled it back again. Then he placed his fingers next to Bart’s ass again. Instead of merely toying with the outside, he began to push his way in. He paid attention to the way that Bart’s back moved against his fingers. Bart lowered his hips, contracted his shoulders, and allowed for Evan to go deeper inside whenever he was ready.