the tremors that came on him so often now, but different too. Once, outside Bagram, he had watched a bird plummet from the minaret of a mosque, a black arrow diving toward the sunbaked clay, and at the last minute, its wings unfurled, and the feathers were iridescent in the sun as it skimmed the ground, trailing reddish-brown dust like a fighter jet. This, touching Rufus this way, was like that. Sam looked up at Rufus. He slid the briefs down; the waistband had left red tracks in Rufus’s fair skin. And then he took Rufus in his mouth.
Rufus knocked the back of his head against the door. A sob tore out of this throat, sounding like protest, like relief, like passion, like desperation. It was a combination of base animal need and an exquisite symphony playing out at the same time. One hand held the back of Sam’s head, keeping him close, never letting him pull back entirely, while the other rested on Sam’s shoulder, as if Rufus needed distance and didn’t know why. Didn’t understand why. Maybe was afraid to consider the why.
Sam wasn’t exactly watching the clock, but it didn’t seem like it took long. He let Rufus run as much of the show as he wanted. When Rufus slacked, Sam took over again. Sam liked giving a good blow job, but he liked the noises Rufus made a lot more. And then, Rufus was clutching at him, whimpering, thrusting. Coming.
When Sam pulled off, Rufus sagged against the door, and Sam braced hands on knees and looked up at him. Rufus’s face was blank. Chuckling, Sam ran the back of his arm across his mouth.
“Ok,” he said. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Come on.”
Hoisting Rufus over his shoulder, he fireman-carried him to the sofa, where he helped him stretch out. He tugged the briefs back into place but got rid of the Chucks and the jeans, and then he jostled Rufus until he could squeeze onto the cushions. They lay there for a while, Sam teasing out strands of silky red hair, trying to make it stand up in the weirdest ways he could imagine.
“You alive in there?”
Rufus laughed lightly. “I think so. That was amazing.” He looked at Sam. “What about you?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a smile. “I liked that.”
Rufus shifted and propped himself up on an elbow. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I’m fine. Honest. I just wanted it to be about you.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the silence. “Come on? Nobody’s ever done that for you?”
Rufus looked at Sam once or twice, but the eye contact didn’t linger. “Not really.”
From the street came the hub and murmur of the city, underscored for a moment by the whup, whup, whup of a helicopter. Sam ran his fingers up the knobs of vertebrae in Rufus’s back, hooked the collar of his shirt, and dragged him back down onto the sofa. Then it turned into a mixture of wrestling and forced cuddling, with Sam trying to wrap himself around Rufus and Rufus laughing and trying to get free.
Sam ended up on top, and he leaned to kiss Rufus. Then he stopped. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll go brush, I guess.”
“I know where my dick’s been.” Rufus pulled Sam back down and kissed him.
For some reason, Sam was blushing after the kiss. But he kissed Rufus again, out of gratitude. And then he kissed him again. That one was for fun. Then, dropping onto his elbows, he framed his body around Rufus’s.
“Bad news: you’re officially my captive.”
Rufus snorted and said, “Oh yeah? I fight dirty and don’t regret it afterward. You really want to test me?”
“I’d be willing to consider an early release in exchange for some information.”
Rufus hummed under his breath. “Interesting. Continue.”
“One Rufus thing.”
Rufus’s carefree expression skipped and stuttered. “I already told you a Rufus thing.”
“I’m greedy. I want another.”
Rufus turned his head and said nonchalantly while staring everywhere but at Sam, “Rufus things are pretty dull.”
The helicopter was still somewhere out there, whup, whup, whupping its way across the whole city, it felt like. Sam tapped on Rufus’s jaw. Rufus swatted at his hand. Sam tapped again.
“Cut it out.”
Sam tapped again. And again. Until Rufus turned back and looked at him.
And Sam wasn’t sure what he saw, but he knew enough to stop. He rolled off Rufus, getting to his feet, and said, “Want to shower?”
Rufus sat up. He grabbed Sam’s wrist before he could move out of reach. “Hang on.” His mouth worked and his