The memories flashed through my head like a slideshow. The way he moaned. The warm smell of his skin. His eyes flashing up to meet mine as he sucked me down. And then the shower.

My heart pounded and anxiety flooded my veins. Shoving him against the wall. The surge of adrenaline and the billion thoughts that raced through my mind when it'd happened. Defend yourself at all costs. I saw his shocked expression again and felt ashamed of myself.

Maybe I wasn't suited for civilian life. Maybe I was too far gone to return. It didn't seem to matter where my heart was, as long as my mind remained in a place of bullets and bombs.

Some habits were unbreakable. They were lifetime companions that you could only control, never be fully rid of.

I didn't want to hurt anyone. And I didn't want to be anyone's burden.

Before getting into bed, I went to the closet and pulled down the rectangular security case from the shelf, just like I'd done every night before. This was a ritual as normal to me as brushing my teeth. I unlocked the case and opened it. Inside was my 9mm Glock 19, the same weapon I'd carried on my hip through my service in MARSOC. I inserted the magazine, cocked it, and slipped back the slide to double-check the round in the chamber. Then, I put the gun under my pillow. When I laid my head down I could feel its firm, cold shape there, just enough to bring me the peace of mind that allowed me to fall asleep.

When I came downstairs the following morning Chris was sitting on the couch playing guitar. He tilted his head against the cushions to look at me as I came into the room.

"Hi," he said.

"Good morning.” I went to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a banana from a big tray of fruit that Big Mike had delivered the other day. "You had breakfast?"

"I'm good," he called.

"Mind if I sit next to you?" I asked, coming back into the living room. He shook his head.

I listened as he played the guitar. It was the same one he'd been playing when I'd first arrived. It'd only been a little over a week, but it felt so much longer. Yesterday alone had felt like a goddamn lifetime.

"Chris," I said. "I want to apologize again about yesterday."

He stopped playing. "Sylus. Don't worry. It's cool. I snuck up on you. I shouldn't have done that. Seriously. It's all good." He punched my arm. "Are you alright?"

Chris was worried about me. It made me smile, despite how bad I felt. Actually, it made me really happy.

"I spent a huge part of my life in the military," I said. "Spent many years doing shit that the average person could never even imagine, let alone do. Insane shit. But shit that I was built to do. Every habit I made was done in the interest of operating the best I could out in the field. For survival. We went through some hell over there, sometimes. But goddamn, if it doesn't feel like home. And I find myself missing my old home, when I should be settling into this one." I shook my head. "I don't even have it as rough as a lot of others do. But the old habits... They make it hard."

He strummed a couple soft chords. "I definitely am not the one to dispense advice on this kind of shit. My life has been a whole mess, as you've seen. Things can change, though. I've already learned that much." He cleared his throat. "When I was a junior in high school, I made myself a promise on my birthday. I told myself that by the time I graduated from high school, I’d be a professional musician and I’d move away from my home and live my life free from my mom’s opinions. Two years later, I was signed to a label. And eleven years after that, I'm fucking touring the world. I've got two platinum albums, and I'm still dealing with the shit my mom put on me. But things can change."

Another sequence of chords drifted from the amp, gently filling the vast living room. I caught glimpse of the date etched into the back of the guitar: July 25, 2004. His birthday, thirteen years before the present.

"And sometimes they never do," I said.

Could I ever find my place here?

"Hey," Chris said, putting his hand on my thigh. "You're good." Then he turned back to his guitar and continued to play.

My leg tingled where his hand had been, and I felt excitement coursing down to my cock from that single touch.

But he was absolutely right about change. This was a whole different Chris from the one I'd first met. Shit, he was a whole different Chris from just a couple days ago. Or maybe it was just that things between us had changed?

My mind slipped back to last night. It felt like a dream. The memories of my deployment felt more real than what we'd done.

"Just a few more days until the release concert," Chris said. "And you won't have to babysit my ass anymore."

"Yeah.” I stood up and walked to the window. "I was just starting to get acquainted, too."

Chris came up next to me. I felt an urge to put my arm around him, but resisted. Despite everything that'd happened last night, despite how badly I wanted to show him affection, I resisted. It didn't matter how I felt about him; I didn't think it would be a good idea to let this progress. Bedroom lessons were fine.

But I had to admit that meant I was fucking dying for another chance to teach him.

"There's a lot you can learn in a day," Chris said, and my heart skipped a beat. It was insane how easily he was able to do that to me. I'd always thought that no one could ever break my cool.

From the window, I could see all the way to the street that ran parallel to the mansion's security fence. I noticed a silver sedan driving by at a slower than normal pace. It hung a left at the top of the street and disappeared around the block. It stood out, not just because of the speed but because it was a car I'd never seen before. Chris's neighborhood was populated by a small community of wealthy people, and from my research, it didn’t get much outside traffic. Something immediately went off in my brain, but I questioned it. Especially after what happened yesterday, I couldn't be sure if I was being extra sensitive about something normal.

That afternoon, I accompanied Chris to Goldstate Records’ downtown office for a meeting with his manager. On the freeway, we passed by a billboard for Chris's upcoming album. He was caressing a guitar in the black and white photo, smoldering at the camera.

"Lookin' hot," I said.

"Shut up," Chris replied from the back seat.

I trailed behind him as we walked through the lobby to take the elevator up to the 30th floor, doing my best not to stare too hard at Chris's fine ass. He was wearing a pair of Levis that perfectly showcased his behind, and I wanted so badly to reach out and give it a smack. I wondered if Chris would've minded if I had. I almost wanted to test that line, and I might've if the elevator had been empty, but we were sharing it with a couple of women who kept sneaking starry-eyed glances at Chris.

"You ladies have a good day," he said to them as the elevator reached our floor. They looked like they were going to explode from excitement.

I've seen him naked, I thought to myself, smiling. Bet you wanna know what that's like.

"So, you're the man who's managed to keep Chris out of the tabloids this week," said Denny, shaking my hand. "Goddamn miracle worker. You know, I might need to talk to your boss about bringing you on as Chris's regular bodyguard. You do long-term contracts?"

"It isn't our scope, sir. But it's possible something can be worked out. You'll have to speak with Bautista Synn."

The idea of being tied to Chris on the long-term thrilled me, but I was uncertain about my future. My mind was wandering back to a place that I could no longer return to.

I felt Chris looking at me. I kept my eye straight ahead.

"He's good, I've gotta admit," Chris said. "He definitely knows how to handle me."

Denny leaned back in his chair. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. "Goddamn, I'll say. With Chris's track record, I was honestly expecting the worst for this album. So, good work, Sylus. I'll pass along my commendations to your boss."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"Alright. You can wait outside. There's a break room right down the hall. It's got pretty damn good coffee."

"Yes, sir.” I stepped out of the office and followed the hallway, which was lined with framed gold and platinum records. I found Chris's among the lineup, including the one for "Pickup Kind of Girl". I snorted and shook my head. Who decided the winners of these things, anyway?

I poured myself some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and stood at the window. Quite a fuckin’ view. The sun was just starting to set, filtering through the LA smog into brilliant colors. It brought me back to a memory of Iraq, when I was posted up for an op just outside of Mosul. Insurgents had set fire to one of the oil fields there, filling the sky with this dark smoke that turned blood red with the sun's rays. It was both terrible and beautiful.

After about an hour, Chris came to the break room to get me. "Hey," he said, getting my attention. He leaned against the doorframe, his thumb hooked through one of his belt loops, pulling the top of his jeans down just enough that I could see his underwear. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"That's what I'm being paid for," I said. "Ready to get going?"

"Yup."

We walked through the office to the elevators. "The label wants me to put together a new single," he said.

"Already? Your album isn't even out."

"Yep. That's how it works in this business. No time for dawdling." He pressed the call button, and the elevator rose to our floor. "You know, I definitely would not complain if you stayed as my regular bodyguard."

The doors opened. This time, the elevator was empty. We got in, and I hit the button for the lobby. The doors rolled closed.

"Do you think that would be a good idea?" I asked.

Suddenly he threw his arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Oh, shit," he sighed, moving away. "You've got no idea how bad I've been wanting to do that this whole day."

I swallowed. "Trust me, I know." My heart was pounding. Chris was like a whirlwind that had swept me away. The smell of his cologne lingered, as did the flavor of his lips, and I wanted to take another taste. This time, I couldn't resist. I stole another kiss from him. "This is a free practice session," I said. "Got it?"

"I could use some more lessons when we get back," he said slyly.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, but how could I say no?

"Yeah. I'll show you whatever you want to know."

* * *

Chris tackled me onto the couch, and his hand slipped into my pants and grabbed my erection. His breath tickled me as he nipped at my earlobe, and I turned my head to press my lips to his. I tugged my pants down, and he stroked my cock as he kissed and sucked on my neck.

I unbuttoned my shirt, and he pulled it off of me and tossed it aside. He also had his shirt off, and the feeling of his naked chest against my back sent chills of excitement through my body. I could feel the swell of his cock against my ass, and reached behind me to grab a handful of his package. He grunted into my ear and squeezed his arm tightly across my chest.

"I think I've unleashed an animal," I said.

"You've definitely unleashed something."

I grabbed his hand from my cock and spun around so that I was lying on the couch, facing him on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tugged him in to me so that our cocks were pressing together, and then using some martial arts, I flipped him so that I was the one straddling him. Excitement sparked in his eyes. So, the roughhousing really did turn him on.

I whipped my belt from the floor and slipped it around his wrists, tightening it with my teeth, and pushed his arms above his head. I leaned in to kiss him, and as he stretched his neck out to meet me, I pulled back at the very last second. Then I reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock. His mouth opened in a silent moan, fire burning in his gaze. He tried to kiss me again, but I stayed just out of reach.

"Hey," he growled. "Stop teasing me."

"Hm? I could've sworn you liked it."

"Fuck off."

He bucked his hips, pushing me forward a few inches--just enough for him to reach my lips. I met his kiss with full vigor.

"You're a quick study. You've definitely got kissing down pat. Why don't you practice something else?"

I sat upright on the couch, and Chris moved onto his knees between my legs. His hands were still bound at his front, and he positioned himself on all fours in front of me. Then, he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around my cock. I watched as he sucked me down, rocking his whole body back and forth to do it. I gritted my teeth, failing to hold back a moan. It was damn good.

I pushed my fingers through his hair, getting a good, but careful, grip to guide his movements on my cock. He pushed himself forward, drawing me deeper into his throat.

"Holy shit," I groaned. "Chris..."

When he pulled back, a strand of saliva stretched from his tongue to the tip of my cock. He wiped his mouth with the heel of his palm. "Sylus," he said. "Teach me how to take a cock."

For the second time, the excitement of hearing him say that nearly made me come.