Rend

by Roan Parrish

  I had been going in early to do a few hours of work on From Pianos to Paint before my meetings with clients. Things had gone better than I’d dared hope. It wasn’t just Theo’s money, and the money he’d drawn to the project—although that certainly didn’t hurt. It was watching Noé’s confidence and happiness swell almost as soon as he had a purpose.

  It was being in touch with so many people who’d come from the same precarious situation as me and had made full lives for themselves alongside their struggles. It was seeing how excited our clients got at the prospect of having access to the kinds of resources they couldn’t afford on their own.

  We had gone ahead and rented space in a nearby building that was zoned for multipurpose use. Theo, having recently turned his own apartment into a recording studio, had all the know-how we needed to craft a simple studio set up in one of the rooms. Others had every musical instrument that might be needed.

  Noé had been in charge of setting up a darkroom. Imari’s onetime client Roger had set up the art studios and told us what supplies to stock. Angela, one of my clients from a few years back had worked with us to set up sewing machines for textile work. Another client suggested we use some of the money to open an account at a local art supply store so that clients could submit requests for what they need and get it right away if they were approved.

  As of now, From Pianos to Paint was firmly within the auspices of Mariposa, but I was hoping over the next year or two to turn it into an autonomous organization. I’d been brainstorming fundraising ideas that could include work created by our clients.

  It’d had me buzzing with excitement since the beginning, and now that we were getting ready to open the doors at the end of the summer, I got a thrill of satisfaction whenever I thought about it.

  I did that. I made that happen. I’m helping people. I’m doing something good.

  It didn’t hurt that Rhys could hardly contain how proud he was of me whenever I talked about it, even if he had to be sick of hearing about lines of credit for acrylic paint.

  But now it was Thursday and both Rhys and Imari had insisted I take the day off. In fact, they’d wanted me to take the whole week off but just the thought of that much time to think about meeting Rhys’s family made me panic, so I’d refused. I was pretty sure Rhys knew I was working to avoid wedding planning, but he didn’t call me on it.

  We’d been running around doing last-minute errands and making confirmatory phone calls all day and I thought that if I had to speak to another person or think about another wedding-related thing I would full-on scream. Rhys was only slightly better off, having gritted his teeth through a hundredth scroll through the weather forecast for Saturday, which now threatened a twenty percent chance of rain.

  “It’ll be fine,” he muttered for the dozenth time. Then, “I can’t believe it’s been gorgeous every day for two weeks and now Saturday it might rain.”

  “I can’t believe I’m marrying a guy who can’t even control the weather. Let’s call it off.” I collapsed onto the couch and threw my arm over my face.

  Rhys flopped down next to me with a groan and put his head in my lap. “Oh well.” He sighed dramatically. “If it rains, I guess we’ll just have to reenact the ‘November Rain’ video. Do you wanna be Slash, Axl, or Axl’s bride?”

  “Slash, duh. The bride dies, and you’re obviously Axl.” I tugged on his hair.

  “Oh my God, Matty.” Rhys gasped in faux shock. “Did you just know a contemporary musical reference? Be still my heart.”

  “Number one, that song’s not contemporary, it’s like as old as I am. Number two, you play that video at least once a month.” Rhys shrugged and started kissing my stomach. “I still don’t understand why they all start running around panicking and jumping into the wedding cake. The fuck is it, acid rain?” Rhys chuckled against my stomach. “You know we could just elope. Then the rain wouldn’t matter.” I stroked Rhys’s hair.

  “We already did that the first time.”

  I sighed. “Oh yeah.”

  I tried to read in bed before we went to sleep, but I couldn’t concentrate, so I gave up and dropped the book onto the nightstand. Rhys rolled toward me and threw an arm over my stomach.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Just nervous, I guess.”

  “Mm, allow me to distract you.”

  Rhys kissed me until desire edged out nerves, then brought my left hand to his lips and kissed my ring.

  “You remember what this means, right?”

  His voice had taken on the edge of possessiveness that made my heart race and my cheeks flush. I nodded.

  “What does it mean, Matty?”

  I gulped. “That I’m yours.”

  He nodded seriously. “You’re mine. And everyone who sees this ring knows it. On Saturday everyone at our wedding will know it. That you belong to me.”

  He was lying half on top of me, and I could feel his dick get harder as he spoke. I ground up into him and we both moaned.

  “No one gets to touch you but me,” he said and kissed me hard.

  “I wish no one ever had,” I said. Rhys’s pupils dilated so fast his eyes looked nearly black, and he let out a moan.

  “Oh fuck, baby, I wish that. I wish I was the first person to ever touch you, ever fuck you.” He ran his fingers down my neck, my chest, to my erection. “I wish I could’ve been the first one to see you come.” He stroked me roughly, and my eyes squeezed shut as lust shot through me.

  “We…could pretend,” I said. My heart pounded. When I opened my eyes, Rhys was looking at me like he wanted to consume me.

  “Oh, Matty. Yes.” He was hard and huge against my hip, nipples erect. He looked like he really could devour me. “No one has ever touched you. You’ve never been with anyone this way. But I love you and I’m going to make your first time amazing.”

  “Oh my God,” I murmured.

  “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll be gentle with you.”

  I felt a surge of embarrassment at how much this was turning me on, but Rhys was clearly just as into it as I was, so I closed my eyes and then I went for it.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said, making my voice soft. I blinked up at him, wide-eyed.

  “I’ll show you,” Rhys purred. “Can I kiss you, sweet thing?” A hot judder of shame and need tore through me and I nodded.

  Rhys kissed me slow and sweet. Almost chaste. He stroked my cheek and ran his fingers down my throat. When he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I moaned and pressed closer to him. Rhys’s rough hands mapped my body slowly. He bent and sucked at my sensitive nipples while he ran a palm over my ribs.

  Where he was usually a tornado, now he was so gentle it made me want to scream. Each soft touch, each delicate sweep of his tongue, it all coalesced and left me trembling.

  I imagined it really was the first time I’d ever been with anyone like this. Wiped away the late night fumbles in bars and parks, the rushed fucks in bathrooms and grimy apartments, the awkward mornings after and doomed affairs. It was another life, and in this life, Rhys was the only one.

  “Mm, you’re so sweet,” Rhys murmured. He pushed the sheet aside, leaving me bared to him. My nipples were reddened and wet from his mouth, and my cock was swollen and leaking on my stomach. “Can I touch your dick, baby? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “Oh fuck. Yes, touch me, please.”

  Rhys ran a fingertip down my erection and we both moaned as my dick jerked. Then he wrapped his hand around me and started to stroke.

  “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

  “No, no, only you,” I gasped. The friction from his rough palm was perfect and the way he was looking at me was making me shake.

  “Mm, that’s what I like to hear.”

  I groaned when Rhys took his hand away, but didn’t move. I wanted him to be in complete
control of this. He pushed my legs apart slowly and stroked the sensitive skin on the insides of my thighs. He cupped my balls and squeezed lightly, making me clench up.

  He pushed my knees up and ran a finger lightly over my hole.

  “Has anyone ever touched you here?” he asked as I shuddered.

  I shook my head, swallowing hard. “No one. Not ever.” Rhys’s eyelids fluttered and I glanced down to see he was leaking all over himself, erection red and balls full. I reached out a hand slowly, but before I could touch him, he caught my wrist and pressed my hand to the bed.

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ve never seen one so big before,” I said softly and watched it jerk. Rhys gritted his teeth.

  “You’re dangerous,” he said. I gave him the most innocent look I could muster.

  His attention back between my legs, he said, “Can I touch you here, Matty? Can I touch you inside?”

  “Oh God. Fuck.” Lust rolled through me and I nodded.

  Rhys slicked his finger and slid it inside me slowly.

  “You’re so hot inside, baby,” he said. “How does that feel?”

  “O-okay.”

  He opened me up with a second finger, and I gasped as he stroked my prostate. It was new, everything was new. It was all so intense.

  “That feel good, love?”

  “So fucking good.”

  Rhys slid in a third finger, and I cried out.

  “Mm,” he said, leaning down to kiss me as he slowly fucked me with his fingers. “Good boy.” I whimpered. “You’re doing so well, baby. You look so good getting fucked with my fingers. So hot like this.”

  I felt like I was coming apart. Playing like this with Rhys always felt real because he fell into it completely and took me with him. My ass felt tight and my nipples hypersensitive. I felt nerves over being fucked for the first time, like my body didn’t know the difference.

  He added more lube and finger-fucked me until I was groaning and begging him.

  “You want my cock, baby?” Rhys crooned. “Want me to fuck you with it? You wanna know how it feels to get fucked?”

  “Yes, fuck, yes, Rhys, please, oh God.”

  “Okay, but you have to promise to tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop. You promise?”

  I nodded desperate, clenching around him, needing more.

  “Say it.”

  “I promise, Rhys, please.”

  “What do you promise?”

  “I promise I’ll—oh fuck—I’ll tell you if…if your cock inside me is too–too much for me.”

  Rhys groaned and dropped his forehead down on my chest for a moment. I fucking loved how much this was doing it for him.

  “It might be too big,” I added, to feel Rhys’s cock jerk again. “But I’ll try.”

  “God, fuck. Such a good boy for me,” Rhys said, and I shuddered.

  He slicked himself up and pressed gently against my hole.

  “I want you to try and relax, okay, sweetheart?”

  I nodded, and Rhys began to slide inside me so slow it was nearly torture.

  When he was halfway in, I gasped and put my hand on his shoulder. “Wait a second,” I said. I could feel Rhys throbbing inside me, see the concentration on his face. I took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

  He slid the rest of the way in, feeling impossibly huge, and I threw my head back. He was filling me so perfectly, and I wanted it to last forever. “Oh God,” I moaned. “Oh my God. I…are you all the way inside me?”

  Rhys gave a desperate laugh like he was barely keeping it together. “Yeah. You’re fucking killing me, baby. So fucking hot.” He ran a shaking hand down my chest, and I looked up at him. He was so damned beautiful. Wild blond hair, snapping blue eyes, mouth swollen from kissing me. I loved him so much.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I said. “I want to know what it feels like.” I pulled him by the hips, as if I could get him deeper inside me, and he groaned and started to fuck me.

  He was like liquid heat inside me, moving in deep, slow strokes that had me shaking in minutes. He started to move faster, and the friction lit every nerve ending. I was crying out with every thrust, and Rhys was shaking above me.

  “Oh God, you feel so good,” I moaned.

  Rhys changed the angle, hitting my prostate, and I fell apart. I didn’t even touch my cock, I just closed my eyes and felt him deep inside me, and my orgasm washed over me.

  I was coming and screaming and shooting in pulses over my stomach. Rhys’s belly slid slick against mine as he kept thrusting deep inside me and then he whimpered and I felt him swell, then flood me with heat. He shuddered against me and clutched at my shoulders as he came, and I kept my legs wrapped tight around him.

  We were both breathing hard and Rhys groaned low in my ear. “Fuck, that was amazing.”

  I kept my eyes closed because I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to live forever in a world where this was my first time, with Rhys, right before our wedding. Before he could end it, I covered my face with my hand and said, “You felt so good. I didn’t know it would feel like that.” Rhys groaned again, weakly.

  “I tried to be gentle since it was your first time,” he purred. “But you were so fucking sexy I lost it a little bit at the end. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No. You were perfect. It was perfect.”

  Tears pricked my eyes at how perfect it was. How much I wanted to remember it just this way.

  “Matty,” Rhys said softly. He stroked my hair back from my flushed face and kissed my cheek, then my mouth. “It’s okay, love.”

  I threw my arms around him.

  “Now that you fucked me, you can’t ever leave me,” I said. I’d meant it to sound half joking, but it didn’t.

  “Never,” he said, voice completely serious.

  It was an echo of the conversation we’d had a few weeks before, when Rhys’s manager had mentioned setting up another tour. I’d panicked so fast and so hard that there wasn’t even the option of hiding it from Rhys. After our knee-jerk I don’t have to go and Go, I’ll be fine, I lay down with my head on Rhys’s stomach and made a decision. I’d go with him, simple as that. It didn’t have to be for the whole tour, and it didn’t have to be forever. But for now, for the next time, I’d take time off and go. See places I’d never seen before, spend time with Rhys, go to some of the shows. That easy? Rhys had asked. I’d shrugged, and promised I’d try my damnedest to make it okay, even if it wasn’t easy.

  We were sweaty and covered in come, but when Rhys went to pull out, I stopped him.

  “I need you tonight,” I said. He knew what I meant. He hummed in pleasure and kissed me. Then he rearranged us so he was behind me. I could feel his release leaking out of me around his softening dick, and I tightened my hole around him, wanting to keep it inside. Rhys twitched and traced my hole with his finger. Then he slid his finger inside me alongside his cock.

  “You’re perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

  I matched my breathing to his and drifted off with him inside me.

  * * *

  —

  By the time Grin’s car pulled up the next day, I was so nervous I was freaking Max out with my constant pacing. Rhys had intercepted me in the kitchen a little while earlier and dropped to his knees, going down on me so hard and fast I couldn’t think. I’d come down his throat in a moment of bliss, and been pacing again five minutes later. He’d told Max to make sure I didn’t drink any more coffee and gone to double check the guest room.

  But when the car door opened and my old friend reached through the driver’s side window to clasp hands with the driver, saying, “Thanks, man. Good luck with the winery. It sounds great,” my nerves disappeared and I almost ran toward Grin. As the car drove away, Grin dropped his bag on the ground and spread his arms wide.

 
; “C’mere you little shit!” he crowed, hugging me tight, and though I hadn’t seen him for years except in goofy selfies, his smile was just the same.

  I grabbed his bag and led him inside, and I thought I saw a flash of nervousness in Rhys’s face before Grin stuck out his hand and said, “Hey, man, it’s the guy who taught Grim here how to smile.”

  Rhys clasped his hand and met Grin’s grin with one of his own. God, I was surrounded by smiles.

  When we dumped Grin’s stuff in the spare bedroom, he shot me a look. “Can’t believe you have a guest room.” But it wasn’t teasing, it was proud.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Me neither.”

  We shifted in the doorway for a minute, not looking at each other.

  “You, uh, you seem good, bro. You good?” Grin asked.

  “Yeah. I really am. You good?”

  Grin’s smile was calm and steady, and he nodded. “Yeah, doing okay, man. Doing okay.”

  The three of us sat outside for the next hour or so, having a couple beers and catching up. Grin and Rhys got on great and before long I came back outside with more beers to find Rhys cracking up as Grin told him the story of how he’d coated the tips of all my pencils in super glue the day we took our chemistry final in tenth grade and did an impression of my shocked and confused face as I tried to mark the scan-tron with pencil after pencil that wouldn’t write.

  By the time Rhys’s parents rang the doorbell, I was tipsy and had forgotten they were coming. Which I had a feeling was not unplanned by Rhys, and potentially not unassisted by Grin.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my God, they’re here. Oh God.”

  I put my head in my hands and tried to get a full breath.

  Rhys squeezed my shoulders and said, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,” then went to answer the door.

  Grin smacked me. “Get it the fuck together, bro.”

  “They’re normal, perfect parents,” I snarled at him. “I’ll probably burst into flames when they touch me.”

  Grin started snickering and couldn’t stop, and the next thing I knew, a voice called, “Matt! Come give me a hug, sweetie!”