The Final Line by Kendall McKenna

Sean pressing their foreheads together, looking into his eyes and stroking his thumb over Corey’s lip.
    Corey’s erection grew in his hand. It hardened beneath his fingers. He stroked himself harder and faster, deciding he might be able to come this time. He knew what it felt like to have Sean’s mouth on his and Sean’s tongue against his own. Now, Corey imagined what it would be like to feel that tongue on his cock.
    The mental image of Sean’s hazel eyes staring up at him from between Corey’s legs was all it took. Corey’s back arched and his balls tightened as he came. His cock twitched in his fist and he felt warm spunk land on his skivvy shirt. Fuck, it felt good. His body just hadn’t been very cooperative since he’d been back.
    Taking off his shirt, Corey chucked it across the room, glad he’d just done laundry and had plenty. As he settled back down against his pillow, Corey’s body relaxed. He was warm and languorous. Sleep crept over him slowly at first, before abruptly dragging him all the way under.
    A part of him knew he was safe in his bed, but even that didn’t help.
    The gunfire erupted around them and Corey fell out of the Humvee, scrambling for cover. All around him, Marines shouted and swore. In the distance, Lieutenant Adams shouted orders. Desperate screams nearby told Corey Marines were wounded. The smell of explosives was heavy in the air. AK47 rounds bounced all around and slammed into the sides of the Humvees.
    Lieutenant Adams was beside him. He ordered Corey to punch out toward the house sitting on the low rise. Once there, he was to neutralize the threats he found inside.
    Corey quickly made his way to the house. He took cover along the way behind shattered walls and blown out vehicles. When the small arms fire from inside the house slackened, Corey darted for the front door of the house. He kicked in the front door, lifted his weapon to his shoulder, and made entry.
    Silence fell around him and Corey smelled blood. He smelled a lot of blood. Corey glanced around him in horror. The room was filled with bodies. Dead bodies. Their blank eyes stared up at him accusingly. Blood ran thick on the floor; it covered the bodies of the dead, splattered up the sides of the walls.
    He was surrounded by the bodies of slaughtered women and children.
    Corey sat straight up in his rack, a shout dying in his throat. He was drenched in sweat and breathing raggedly. His heart was beating out of his chest. Corey raised his hands to wipe the sweat from his face and realized they were trembling.
    All he could remember was an endless sea of eyes staring at him with accusation.
    He sat up and pushed the sheet away, swinging his feet to the floor. A glance at the clock told him it was two a.m.
    Corey snatched his cell phone from the bedside table and called Sean. It was answered after a single ring.
    “Are you okay?” Sean’s deep, smooth voice drifted across the connection.
    Immediately, Corey felt soothed, the tension in his muscles easing slightly. “Bad dream,” he replied, resting his elbows on his knees and closing his eyes to just listen.
    “But you’re awake now and nothing can harm you.” Sean’s voice was soft and reassuring. “I’m here with you now. Tell me about the dream.”
    Corey sucked in a harsh breath. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to say the words. He wanted Sean to distract him until the memories faded. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to forget it.”
    “That’s fine,” Sean agreed easily, “maybe next time. Talking about it might help you identify what it was that caused all this. Writing it down, changing how the dream ends.”
    The soft strains of guitar music drifted over the connection. “Is that you playing?” Corey asked, hoping for a distraction.
    “Yep. I’m talking to you with my Bluetooth so I can be ‘hands-free’,” Sean replied.
    Corey sat up, shifting his feet restlessly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.