A gay story: After the End Ch. 20
This is the eighth chapter of After the End – Part 3, the final novel in my dystopian erotic romance trilogy. If you enjoy intensely provocative sex with a power play twist, handsome male heroes in emotionally satisfying relationships, and unconventional happily-ever-afters — you are in the right place! These books are full-length, publication-quality, and currently being offered free of charge. 🙂
Descriptions of each book can be found in my bio by clicking my user name. Feel free to drop in on specific chapters or sections based on your mood or interest, but the dramatic tension is strongest if you start from the beginning of Part 1. As always, I appreciate hearing your reactions and feedback. It truly does help me create the best stories that I can for readers to enjoy.
Content warning:This chapter includes a brief mention of past sexual assault. Helpful resource: https://rainn.org/articles/sexual-assault-men-and-boys.
Tags for this chapter include: #bisexual male, #dystopia, #novel, #romantic, #polyamory, #triad, #submission, #domination, #male submissive, #denial
_______________
Avery:
It was late May and several days past my birthday before Rowan managed to get away from the med center long enough to celebrate with me. Now that she’d officially completed her apprenticeship and assumed full responsibilities as a practicing physician, Dr. Atherton had started taking more time away in preparation for a much-deserved retirement. He was still available for emergencies and infection surges, but Rowan and Vik covered as much as they could themselves, along with our community’s small but dedicated team of nurses and aides. The elderly doctor had given up plenty of his golden years in order to teach and guide my two friends; I knew they were happy to be in a position finally to repay the favor.
The night I actually completed my twenty-eighth revolution around the sun, Rowan had been called away to perform emergency surgery and ended up missing most of the party. It was never quite as much fun when she wasn’t there, but I’d gotten used to her erratic schedule ages ago. Being constantly available for other people’s health needs — and unavailable for social events — meant she was also ready with her scalpel, clamps, and intravenous infusions in case any of us needed immediate medical care. A benefit for which we were willing to sacrifice reliable RSVPs.
She’d insisted on another chance to observe the occasion, and although this get-together wasn’t nearly as lively as the liquor-fueled original, we were still having a good time. Lamont and Tara had carried a reluctant curly-headed Verity home to bed, and Gavin had left with Vik, who had an early shift in the morning, but five of us were still gathered in the main hall around a jug of last autumn’s fermented cider.
Rowan poured another round of golden brew into the chipped ceramic mug she was sharing with Rae, the Echo Company captain, and started to raise a toast. From the head of the table, Julian offered me the pewter tankard that was still half full, but before Graham could reach for his own glass, Rae swiped it with her trademark mischievous grin, leaving him empty-handed.
“Many happy returns!” she crowed gleefully, clinking her cup against mine and promptly draining it. I took a long tangy pull myself, adding fuel to the buzz in my bloodstream.
I passed the tankard back to Julian while Rae refilled the glass for my other partner, who was sitting beside me on the bench. Graham contented himself with a single sip — he wasn’t technically on duty, but as the ranking commander for the several hundred service members based out of Fort Laurel, he also wasn’t ever really off duty.
“Enjoy this year, Chase,” Rae smirked at me, tossing her blonde bangs out of her eyes. I’d noticed she was a little better at enforcing regulations than following them, but only a little. “Turning twenty-eight was a breeze, but that twenty-ninth birthday hits like a bitch-slap in the face. I’m a hell of a lot closer to the end of my youth than I ever wanted to be.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Graham laughed. “You both have plenty of youth left. Being in your thirties just means having enough experience that every single situation isn’t brand new. It’s something to be proud of, and it saves a lot of energy. I wouldn’t trade to be in my twenties again.”
“We have a sage among us, and he’s not even thirty-five!” Rae mocked. “Besides, that’s not the attitude I recall you having on your twenty-eighth birthday,” she directed at the other captain. “You made me get you blackout drunk because you were already in your late twenties and you’d just broken up with that guy…what was his name? Isaac?”
“Isaiah,” Graham corrected, then continued good-naturedly. “But that’s exactly what I’m saying. It seemed like a big deal to me at the time, and now it’s very clear that we weren’t right for each other, and it was nothing to be upset about. The wisdom of age,” he pronounced with a healthy dose of comedic irony.
I’d never heard of this Isaiah guy, and the pang of jealousy was as automatic as the alcohol dropping my blood pressure.
“Well obviously he wasn’t right for you,” Rae emphasized. “I mean, he was a hot piece of ass, and you made a cute couple. But I told you from the beginning it wasn’t going anywhere.”
Rowan must have noticed I wasn’t eager to hear the gory details of Graham’s previous relationships during my birthday celebration. “What about you, Julian?” she asked, steering toward clearer waters. “What was your twenty-eighth birthday like?”
My husband’s patrician features softened when he met my gaze. We both remembered that one well.
“It happened right around the time Avery finally admitted he loved me,” Julian surprisingly shared with the whole table. “So I’d say it was one of my best.”
“Aww,” Rowan crooned. She was a sucker for romance, as long as it was happening to someone else. She didn’t make time for much of her own.
“Which reminds me,” Graham said. “We have something else to celebrate: next week will mark one year since Major Demos here tried to ambush my whole company coming down from Barksdale.”
“To be clear, I did ambush your company, quite successfully,” Julian returned, refined humor layered over the subtle warmth that almost always seemed to be present when our uniformed partner was, these past few months. “I could hardly have been expected to know that the U.S. Army would be marching into Coushatta. You’re lucky we didn’t take you for Lone Star Defense Force.”
“Wasn’t nearly the only thing lucky about that day,” was the captain’s indulgent response.
Those memories were almost like something out of a dream: Crouching in the brush beside the grass-grown highway, pulse pounding with adrenaline and dread, expecting a battle we were probably about to lose to the marauding militants. Praying to the gods that I wasn’t about to be shot, or watch Julian get shot. Then Graham emerging from the column of soldiers, camouflaged and helmeted and shouting orders in shorthand, miraculously offering heavily-armed reinforcements. The auspicious moment of our first meeting, shaking hands among the late afternoon shadows of the ruined river town.