Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

like."
    Daniel shook his head. "Got one in my bag. Get some more sleep. I'll be back in a bit."
    In the bathroom he took care of business and shaved carefully, not looking himself in the eyes in the mirror. He turned on the taps full blast and stepped into the shower. The hot water pouring over his head was clean and bountiful, and he sighed with pleasure. Fresh water wasn't plentiful on board a ship, even in today's relatively modern era. Then after he'd hit dry land, the best he'd managed on the trip was a quick scrub of his pits in the dirty bus-depot bathrooms. This was glorious. He shampooed his hair twice, and then soaped himself well. The sliver of soap slipped from his fingers and he bent to retrieve it. Water ran up his nose and he snorted and shook his head, palm on the tiled wall. And suddenly became aware of his position.
    He had a flash of their last time on the Gageway , standing in the little storeroom, bent over just like this. Both of them so horny and nervous, pressed together fully dressed. He had come, hard, just from the rub of Jacob's body against his ass and the brush of the man's hand over his pants. And had wondered then what it would be like to actually fuck like that, standing up.
    Might find out soon. That should make him eager, right? Not scared.
    He turned his back to the spray. What if he couldn't do this? What if he'd forgotten how? That first time had hurt, a little, but the pain had been minor and pretty much lost in wanting Jacob so badly. They had both been more than ready, after all that time on board ship without the chance to touch. Jacob had been fumbling and eager, but slow and gentle in spite of Daniel's own impatience. But there had only been one other chance for them to do... that, before the Japanese sub had done its dirty work. It had seemed easy back then. They had been so naive. What if things were different now?
    Daniel put a hand to his own ass, pressing a finger inward. He'd done this often enough in the last two years, a furtive touch in a rare private moment. He'd usually sucked his fingers wet or soaped them and touched himself, remembering, imagining Jacob. But the real thing would be different. Jacob was older now. What if in this civilized apartment on those nice clean sheets, things were different?
    He reached for the soap and then paused, remembering the times it had made him itch and burn afterward. He pressed a second wet finger beside the first, but without lubrication two fingers stung and he stopped. What if he farted? What if he had to take a crap? He'd sat on the can for five minutes this morning without success. What if when Jacob got in there...
    Daniel turned back to the spray, letting it wash over his closed eyelids and run down his cheeks. He tried to steady his suddenly rapid breathing. He ran his hands up his face and back over his hair and found that they were shaking. His knees trembled.
    This was crazy. Out there in the bedroom was the man he loved, the man he had waited almost three years and traveled across the country to see. And here Daniel was standing in the shower as it turned cool and then cold, being a chicken. He clucked at himself, his voice hoarse. Dumb chicken. Go out there.
    The water suddenly shut off. He blinked his eyes and found himself starting right at Jacob.
    "Falling asleep in here?" Jacob's voice was gentle and indulgent. "You can just come back to bed and sleep some more. We have all the time in the world now."
    Daniel could have gone along with that story. But one of the things he'd decided, in the long hours staring out at the Kansas scenery, was that he was going to try to play this straight. Try to give Jacob the truth about his messed up brain when he came adrift. Because even on that bus there had been moments when he almost bought a ticket to head back the other way. So he shook his head. "Panic attack."
    "About the war?" Jacob's dark eyes filled with concern. He reached for Daniel's wet shoulders and Daniel pressed back into the shower out of reach.
    "Not the war."
    "About...?" After a long pause, Jacob said carefully, "Us? Me?"
    "Not you. Well, sort of. It's crazy. I'm crazy."
    "Tell me."
    Suddenly the question that desperately needed answering floated to the top of the heap. Daniel had traveled all this way, and never called. He'd arrived here at Jacob's home and walked in and just assumed. He hadn't asked. And he needed to know. "Do you still want me?"
    "Jesus Christ, what kind of question is that?"
    Daniel