Mike was being rough. Lane wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Having sex with Mike was so different than anything he’d ever experienced before. Being with him made his breath hitch and his brain fuzz. Mike plastered his back tight against Lane’s chest as he thrust. All he would have to do was adjust his hips a little and Mike would be balls deep.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” Mike growled as he wrapped his fingers around Lane’s throat.

Lane grunted and tried to talk, but Mike moved his other hand and grabbed onto his cock as he flicked his thumb over the head. Lane gasped, his words lost on air.

Mike was all-consuming. Sweat built between them, heating the small space in the shower. With both hands planted on the tile, he pressed back and began thrusting into Mike’s hand. His actions earned him another growl. Mike bit down on his neck as his hot cum spread between them.

He came too, his spunk landing on the shower wall. This thing with Mike consumed him. His breath slowed as Mike’s did. They rinsed off again as kisses passed between them. Once the shower was off, they shared a towel then tumbled into bed. The night had been long, and exhaustion hit him hard. He adjusted once but fell asleep fast with his head resting on Mike’s shoulder.

He woke suddenly, his throat burning, pain filling his head. He fought the hold on him, slapping at an arm, unsure what was going on.

Was this a dream?

He pushed hard, shoving the body off him.

Not a dream.

He reached for the lamp but was shoved off the bed. Mike was yelling something, though he didn’t understand a word. Fear seeped from his pores and his hands shook. He stumbled to the door on wobbly legs, wondering what the hell happened. He flipped the light on as his gaze flew around the room. With his body pressed against the wall, he spied Mike cowering in the middle of the bed, whimpering.

Fear and anger had set his nerves on fire. He was sucking air, trying to get rid of the burning sensation in his throat, but something wasn’t right with Mike. Could this be a flashback? Was Mike suffering from PTSD?

He moved in close, placing his hand on his friend’s back. Mike moved quickly, almost punching him, but he moved even faster and ducked.

By some miracle, he got Mike pinned to the bed, his hands tight on Mike’s wrists. His friend fought him all the way, making it difficult to hold him down as he struggled, but Lane had to help him get this under control. Maybe he was fucking up, but he wasn’t thinking straight after being attacked.

After a few seconds, the fog in Mike’s eyes started to clear. Then the tears came. His heart squeezed, and there was no way he could let his friend suffer. Whatever had happened, it was bad, and he wasn’t going to allow Mike to think he was alone.

Lane dropped to the mattress beside Mike and held him until his breathing evened out. More than a few minutes passed with them lying twisted together on the bed.

“Let me turn out the lights,” Lane whispered.

Mike grabbed his arm. “No. I could attack again.”

“We both need sleep. It will be okay.”

Lane disentangled himself from Mike’s hold and flipped off the switch. Worry filled him, not that Mike would attack, but for Mike. Something bad was going on, and he wasn’t sure how to help.

Mike had rolled away from him, and he stared at his friend’s back, knowing this wouldn’t work long term. He slid into the bed behind Mike and pushed at his shoulder.

“Turn over and face me.”

Mike shook his head, and Lane stiffened. He wasn’t going to back down.

“Yes, roll over, now, soldier.”

Mike slowly turned, and huffed out a breath when he was on his back. He threw one arm over his eyes and sighed heavily.

“There’s something wrong with me.”

Lane’s heart stuttered at the defeat in Mike’s voice. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since we got out.”

Lane grabbed Mike’s hand and pulled on his arm. He didn’t budge. Lane moved, straddling Mike and tugged his hand, slowly moving Mike’s arm away from his face. Their gazes met. He saw anger, sadness, and fear in Mike’s eyes.

“You should have told me.”

Mike’s lips twisted in a grimace. “What can you do?”

“I work at a fairly large hospital. I know a lot of people.”

“I don’t want the other guys to know.”

“Okay, we don’t have to tell them. But they won’t—”

“No, nothing. Not about you and me, not about this.”

Lane stared down at Mike and nodded once. “Fine. We’ll play it your way. But here’s the deal: You want this to stay quiet, you move in here with me.”

“I have—”

“No, your job doesn’t require you to be in Boston. You travel everywhere. You’re moving in here, or I’m calling the guys and telling them about your PTSD.”

“It’s not PTSD.”

Lane rolled his eyes and dropped down beside Mike. “The hell it isn’t.”

Mike was silent for a long while. Lane had caught the numbers on his digital clock, and they hadn’t slept enough. He needed more hours in bed, and Mike needed to rest too.

“We need to sleep,” Lane said.

“I’m afraid I’ll attack you again.”

“I’m strong, and I can fight you off.”

Mike blew out a breath and went back to silent mode. Lane had almost drifted off again when Mike spoke.

“One girl I slept with told me I almost killed her. She was going to call the cops on me. I choked her so bad she had bruises on her throat for a week. I almost ended up in jail.”

“You need help. I know someone. I’ll send an email now and see if she can see you while you’re here.”

Mike didn’t say anything, so Lane grabbed his phone and pulled up his browser, searching for the doctor’s information. He found the woman then logged onto the hospital’s site and looked for her email address.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“We’re up and we need to get you seen. Really, I’ve heard some very positive things about her.”

“How did you hear about her?”

“I work the emergency department. Hold on; let me send this email and I’ll tell you.”

He typed in a note, then sent the email, including his phone number so she could contact them.

Telling Mike how he knew of Sandra Ross would probably make him mad. Hell, Mike was going to get angry anyway. He was going to have to learn how to accept he had issues.

“Working in the ER means I see a lot of stuff. When someone comes in who has certain issues, I’m usually the nurse they ask to help.”

Mike stiffened “You're talking about crazy people, right?”

“They aren't crazy.”

“Let me guess, they go to the mental ward.”

Lane sat up and stared down at Mike. “Many of them are vets. Some served in units deployed when we were. They just weren't able to find employment and insurance or their situations were very tough. They couldn't self-medicate or self-regulate.”

Mike turned his head away and stared at the wall. “I'm doing okay.”

“You're holding it together fairly well, but you're just one outburst away from jail.”

Mike closed his eyes and shivered. Lane stretched out beside him and rested his head on Mike’s chest.

“Sandra Ross is a great doctor. She's been able to help a lot of men and women who need some extra support.”

Mike grunted. “I hate this. I hate admitting I'm weak.”

Lane smoothed his hand down Mike's chest to his waist. Had Mike been anyone else, he would have kicked him out after the shit he'd pulled, but this was his buddy, and he loved Mike. Maybe not like he would love someone he was in a relationship with, but they'd been friends for so long, Mike’s shit didn't bother him.

Lane sat up. “You're not weak. The things we saw would make anyone have issues.”

Mike scowled and his eyes narrowed. “You don't have issues.”

“I did. I had a couple sessions with a therapist.”

“No one else has issues.”

“Mike, we all have issues. We've all dealt with it differently.”

Mike stood, and Lane got up too. Mike rubbed his face and shook his head. Lane couldn't take his eyes off the man. His body was near perfection, and Lane wanted to touch, but Mike was dealing with some serious shit.

“I'm here for you; you know that, right?”

Mike met his gaze. “Yeah, I'm just… I hate being so… I feel like a failure.”

“You're not a failure. You're a good man. There is nothing wrong with getting help.”

“You’re talking about crazy people—people who hurt— Oh shit” Mike stopped talking and closed his eyes.

He could see tears as Mike’s shoulders started to shake. He pulled Mike into a hug, ignoring how hot Mike was. This was more important than getting off. Mike was hurting. This wasn’t a hook-up he could blow off, this was real for him.

He stroked Mike’s back, holding him close, letting him work through his emotions. Before, he’d been thinking they could maybe have sex, but Mike was too distraught. The man had choked him hard; he could possibly have bruises on his neck for a while, but the bruises would fade. Mike’s pain would only get worse.

When Mike’s sobs lessened, he hugged him tighter, ignoring how good Mike felt in his arms.

“Do you want to get dressed and go get something to eat?”

Mike cleared his throat and stepped away, wiping his eyes. “I guess.”

“Hey, look at me.”

His heart ached for his buddy as he shivered before glancing up.

Emotions burst in his chest, traveling down his arms and up to his brain. He wanted to pull Mike close and kiss him, showing him how much he wanted him. But Mike didn’t need sex, he needed acceptance.

“I care so much about you. You’re strong and you’re good. There isn’t anything, nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I hate that I did that, you know, hurt you.”

Lane shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. Really, it’s okay.”

Mike wrenched himself away from Lane. His eyes were on fire, his fists balled. His breath huffed out like a bull, and Lane wondered if he was going to have to submit Mike for evaluation.

“It’s not okay,” Mike spit out.

Obviously being kind and understanding wasn’t working. Lane advanced and pushed Mike up against the wall, probably a little too hard, considering his head bounced against the drywall.

Mike sucked in a breath and blinked at him. His face started to crumple again. Lane couldn’t let him get lost in his anger and emotions.

“No, you’re going to listen to me not the beast in your head.”

For a second, he thought Mike was going to beat the shit out of him. Something, maybe the look on Lane’s face, or maybe the tone of his voice—he didn’t know—but the fight went out of Mike.

“I’m crazy, aren’t I.”

“Stop. Stop it with the names and shit. You aren’t crazy.”

“But I was ready to kill you and it’s not the first time. Everything got mixed up. Life—I can’t say it.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s hard. I keep seeing Benjamin just before…” Mike blew out a breath and shook his head. “Every day I see his face. Then what happened. I was there. I saw it all. I keep wondering if I could have prevented it.”

“What? Prevented him from being blown up by the IED?”

Mike nodded, guilt washing over his face. “What if I’d stopped him? Had I seen it? Maybe I did see it and I didn’t stop him. What would he say to me if he knew I’d seen that fucking thing that ended him?”

Lane cupped Mike’s cheek and shook his head. “No babe. No, you couldn’t have prevented it. And even if you saw something that looked like an IED, I know you, and I know you would have said something. You would have spoken up and told him to stop. The blast wasn’t something you could have prevented. This is why I want you to talk to Sandra. You’re carrying around a load of guilt for something you weren’t responsible for.”

Mike’s shoulders shook. “He was going to get married. It should have been me.”

“No, Mike. You deserve a life. You deserve to be happy, to live, to experience new things. To be alive.”

“But he was—”

“I get that it is hard to think about what could have been for him, but you have to think about you. Do you think Benjamin would want you to give up?”

Mike closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. Let’s get dressed and go find some food. We’ll head into the city, see some sights, maybe do a tour or something, and then we’ll come back here and sleep. I’m up now anyway.”

“Two days in a row I’ve prevented you from getting good sleep.”

“Yeah, but at least I got some good sex.”

Mike growled and spun them both around, pushing him against the wall. Heat filled his gaze, and he slid his hand down Lane’s chest to his abs then lower to his half hard cock.

“The guys were right; this is good.”

A smile tugged at Lane’s lips. “You like touching my cock.”

“Fuck yeah. And I want to fuck you too. I want to slide between your cheeks and feel your heat.”

Lane shivered and leaned in, resting his forehead against Mike’s. He sucked in air as his body heated. Mike knew just how to touch him to make him hot.

“I want to tie you down, maybe gag you, blindfold you as I take this sweet body of yours to heaven. I’d love to make you beg me. Maybe force you to your knees, fill that sweet mouth of yours with my cock. Would you like that? You could be my cock slut. I’d cover your skin with my spunk.”

He’d never known Mike had such a filthy mouth. The words turned him on and made him hotter. He grunted and began thrusting harder into Mike’s hand.

“That’s it, fuck me hard. Yeah, Lane, do it harder.”

Over the edge Lane tumbled, his cum spraying over Mike’s hand. Then Mike reached for his own cock and started jacking, coming quickly. Lane rested his head on Mike’s shoulders, watching the show. It was beautiful and amazing to watch Mike fuck his own hand.

They were both breathing hard, Mike peppering Lane’s neck and cheeks with kisses. He sighed and leaned in closer. Mike placed his fingers under Lane’s chin and lifted his head.

“You’re so amazing. I know I say things that are—”

“Dirty?”

“Yeah, I talk dirty during sex and it’s gotten me in trouble before. Thank you for not telling me I’m sick or disgusting.”

Lane chuckled and brushed his lips over Mike’s. “I liked it. Made me freaking hot thinking of you doing that stuff to me.”

“Oh shit. Would you, I don’t know, would you ever…”

“I think we could figure some stuff out. See what type of fantasies you wanted to do and make them happen.”

“Shit, Lane. You’re going to make me hard again.”

Lane tsked his tongue and shook his head. “Can’t have that. Actually, we do need to go eat. Come on, let’s clean up and go get some food.”

“Sure. I am hungry.”

They washed off their hands and bellies, cleaning the cum off their bodies. Once dressed, Lane grabbed his keys and phone, pocketing both. He glanced at Mike, taking in his strong jaw and sexy body.

“What?” Mike said.

“Have you ever given a blow job?”

Mike shook his head. “No, you?”

Lane opened the door and stepped out into the hall. “Not yet, but I think I’ll be answering the question differently by tomorrow.”

Mike’s loud laugh echoed down the hallway. “I hope we both can benefit from a little education.”

Lane caught up with Mike and pinched his ass before they opened the door to go down the stairs. “So you’d be willing?”

Mike stopped and turned, lifting his brows. “Of course, unless you’d rather with another guy.”

“Hell no, you’re the only one I want.”

Mike smiled before he turned to head downstairs. They were both feeling good. Mike’s attitude had turned around. That made him happy and worried him a little. They exited the building, and Lane pointed to the left.

“There’s a burger place not too far.”

“Awesome.”

“We can head into the city later for dinner and some sightseeing.”

Mike nodded then reached out and took Lane’s hand. At first, he worried someone would say something to them, then he caught the way Mike’s eyes lit up, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone else said. He was going to hold Mike’s hand and no one else’s opinion mattered.