by Cody Ryder
Joe smiled and kissed him. “That’s alright. Did that feel good?”
“That felt amazing.”
“I hope that didn’t tire you out,” he grinned. “Because I’m not finished with you yet. I’m going to take you home.”
Bruce wrapped an arm around Joe’s waist, and then danced his fingers across his still hard cock. Joe twitched in response.
“You’ve still got this,” Bruce said. “We’ve got to do something to take care of it. So, tell me, what do you want me to do when we get home?”
Joe’s smile widened.
Eleven
As soon as the front door slammed behind them, Bruce and Joe were at each other, tugging off their clothes and tossing them aside. Joe threw Bruce onto the leather couch and then jumped on top of him, straddling his waist. Bruce grinned and grabbed Joe’s already hard cock, and began to stroke it.
“God, I want to fuck you,” Joe murmured, running his fingers along Bruce’s cheek. Bruce took Joe’s hand, guided his fingers into his mouth, and sucked them as he stroked his cock.
“Then fuck me, already,” Bruce said. “I’m ready.” He sat up and pushed Joe off him, and then turned around onto all fours and leaned onto one of the armrests of the couch. He pushed his ass up, presenting it.
Joe laughed and shook his head. “God, Bruce, you are perfect. Wait there, don’t move, okay?” He hurried to his bedroom and went into his closet where the last unopened moving boxes were. He tore into one, rummaged through it, then pushed it aside and pulled open another. “Come on, where are you…”
He finally spotted what he was looking for, and pulled out a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube.
“I moved,” Bruce said as Joe came back into the room. “You gonna punish me?”
“I’m going to pound you,” Joe said. “The only way I can. Because I already know my fists couldn’t touch you.”
Bruce laughed. “Shut up. Come on, already.”
“Are you nervous?” Joe asked. He came up behind Bruce and gently ran his fingers along his hips and across his ass.
“A little bit,” Bruce replied. “It’s…my first time.”
Joe nodded. “There’s no rush. We don’t need to do this yet.”
Bruce looked back over his shoulder. “I said I’m ready. You better not back down.”
He removed one of the condoms from its foil wrapping and slowly pushed it down the length of his cock. “I’m not,” Joe said. “Not ever.” He leaned over and gave Bruce a long kiss.
Bruce shivered as Joe spread some of the cool lubricating gel onto his opening, and then did his best to relax. He’d experimented with toys before, and knew he could handle it, but he’d never had the real thing.
“Let me loosen you up a bit,” Joe said, his voice warm. “And then I’ll take you.”
“Okay,” Bruce said, his tone suddenly betraying just how nervous he actually was. He breathed a quiet sigh as he felt Joe push a finger into him, and then another. That sigh turned into a moan as Joe slowly and gently spread his fingers, stretching him out.
“Is that okay?” Joe asked.
“Yeah,” Bruce answered. “I like feeling you inside of me.” His cock was hard and sensitive between his legs, and he felt the pre-come drip from his tip. He was incredibly excited.
Joe slowly moved his fingers in and out of him, allowing them to curl in just enough to put some pressure on his inner spot. Bruce moaned, his cock bouncing slightly in reflex. “Okay,” he begged, “put your cock inside me.”
He felt Joe’s fingers leave him, and he reached back and spread himself open to accept what was coming next. He then felt the tip of him press up to his opening, and an aching pressure as he slowly pushed forward to enter him.
“Oh, fuck!” Bruce moaned.
Joe gripped Bruce by the waist and pushed further in, his cock disappearing inch by inch inside of him. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered, fearing he might bust right then and there.
Bruce squeezed at the leather cushions, gritting his teeth as Joe’s girth stretched him beyond anything his fingers could’ve done. It hurt—God, did it hurt—but it also felt amazing. The pain melted in and out with pleasure, and he loved it. He wanted more, and he found himself pushing back on Joe, moving his body to take him in quicker. It felt as if his cock would never stop, that it was endless...until finally, Joe’s abs pushed against his ass.
“A-are you in?” Bruce asked, his voice trembling. “All the way?”
“Mm,” Joe grunted. Then he started to move his hips.
Bruce moaned as the pressure reversed and Joe started to thrust in and out. He felt the rock-hard curve of his cock deep inside of him, and the swollen ridge of his head as it pushed against his most sensitive spots. He grabbed hold of the armrest and started to buck his hips in rhythm with Joe’s thrusts until finally he was fully riding the waves of his sex, the sound of their lovemaking filling the living room.
Joe gritted his teeth and clutched at Bruce’s hips as he fucked him, doing whatever he could to hold himself back from the edge that was hurtling closer and closer. The feeling of Bruce encompassing him, gripping his cock as if he didn’t want to let him go, and the warmth of his bodily embrace was overwhelming. It was as if they were back in the ring, and Bruce was countering every move he made.
He didn’t to finish so quickly. He didn’t want to let him knock him out so easily, but…
Sweat dripped down his cheek onto the swell of his pecs, the lines of his muscles bulging with exertion. He was coming close, and nothing he could do would slow it down. He thrust in harder and faster, his stomach smacking loud against Bruce’s firm ass. He thought he might be able to hold out just a little while longer…
That hope crashed down as Bruce unknowingly delivered the one-two combo. As he pressed back into Joe’s thrust, he looked back over his shoulder, his blue eyes locking with Joe’s. Seeing that expression of pleasure on Bruce’s face and the passion that burned deep in his eyes sent him over the edge.
Joe tensed and groaned as the climax exploded over him, and he made one final deep thrust into Bruce. He gritted his teeth as he came, his cock flexing so hard that pushed firmly against Bruce’s inner spot, and pushed him to the edge as well.
They collapsed into each other’s arms on the couch, and for a long while neither of them had the energy to speak. All they could do was lay there in embrace, their chests heaving as the firecracker waves of their climax swirled around their minds and gripped their bodies. They gazed at each other, their eyes communicating all that needed saying at that moment.
What they knew and didn’t know about each other had no relevance. It would all be different now. They were connected. Intertwined. One.
After a hot shower together, the two of them sat with a menu from one of Bruce’s favorite Thai restaurants. Bruce picked a couple dishes he liked, but Joe wouldn’t accept a small order and insisted that they were going to have a feast and get way more than they could ever hope to eat. An hour later, they sat by candle light in the dining room, smiling across the table at one another as they sampled all the different curries, spicy pan fried noodles, steamed fish and succulent meats.
“This is my favorite dish,” Bruce said of a particularly amazing yellow chicken curry. “I don’t get to eat here as much as I like to anymore, but when I do I always have to get this curry. There’s something about the way the chef at this particular restaurant does it. I’ve eaten it a dozen or more times trying to unlock its secrets, but every time I cook it myself I never get the spices right.”
“Is that something you do a lot?” Joe asked. “Reverse engineer dishes.”
“Of course,” Bruce said, matter-of-factly. “I cook.” Then he paused. He’d spoken like he was reminding Joe of something he’d told him before, but then realized—had he ever told him he was a chef before? He realized just how little Joe knew about him—and he about Joe—but the closeness he felt towards him had disguised that. Bruce felt as if he knew everything ab
out him, like there was nothing more he needed to know.
“You’re a chef?” Joe asked. “I didn’t know that. I thought you were just an owner, like myself. That’s amazing. I have no culinary ability whatsoever. Just a passion.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his lip. He felt the anxiety bubbling up again from somewhere deep inside him, the worries of LeFlorette’s Coffee Shop unfurling like black tendrils to drag him back down into that bottomless pit of darkness. No, he thought. Don’t. Let me stay here, just a little longer. I don’t want to think about that right now. I don’t want to go back there…
“I’m not really a chef,” Bruce said. “Not exactly. Kind of a jack of all trades, but I enjoy experimenting at home.”
“So what do you do at work?” Joe smiled. “Maybe we can play a game? I can try to guess what kind of restaurant you run…”
Bruce put his spoon down onto his plate with a speed that he hadn’t intended, and it chinged loudly against the ceramic. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I’d rather not talk about work.” He pushed his plate away. “We really ordered a lot, didn’t we? I’m really full. I’ll help you box it up.”
Joe brought some Tupperware from the kitchen and the two of them sorted out the leftovers into them. “I’m sorry. Is everything alright?” he asked, touching the small of Bruce’s back.
“Yeah. I just…don’t really like discussing my work. It doesn’t bring up very good feelings for me right now.”
Joe kissed him on the top of his head. “Maybe I can help you? If you’re having business trouble, or something? Maybe there’s something I can do?”
Bruce smiled. “That’s nice of you to say, Joe. Maybe…in the future. But not right now. All of this is so new to me—being with you. Feeling this way about you. It makes really happy, and I don’t want to bring my business problems into it. Let me just enjoy this feeling for a while. I like that it’s simple. Simple is good for me.”
Joe nodded and kissed him again, this time on the lips. “You know, we don’t even know each other’s last names.”
They gathered up the plastic boxes and brought them into the kitchen to put away into the fridge. “Does that bother you?” Bruce asked.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t bother you? I’d to like think we’re going to be more than just a semi-anonymous fling, you know?”
Bruce closed the fridge and wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist. “Don’t get me wrong, Joe. That’s not what I want at all. Eventually we’ll know everything about each other. For now, let’s enjoy this.”
Joe nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. At first, he wasn’t as enthusiastic about the idea as Bruce was—he was eager to know everything about him—but he quickly realized that what he wanted really wasn’t so important. He wasn’t signing a business contract. The surface details weren’t what really mattered. He didn’t need to know Bruce’s full name, date of birth and the hospital he was born in. Not knowing everything didn’t prevent him from getting to know the important things; the things that were now only there for him. The way Bruce smiled after a kiss. How his hands felt in his. The soul that lay behind his gorgeous blue eyes. It was only just the beginning. There was so many more of those little details for him to discover. In fact, keeping all those basic things restrained made it more exciting.
“Why don’t we go to the bedroom?” Bruce asked, giving him a tantalizing smile. “Let’s get a little closer to each other.”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Joe said, his lips pulling into an excited grin.
Twelve
Bruce spent the weekend at Joe’s condo, and it was the first time in a long while that he was able to release himself from the negative thoughts that had plagued him. He imagined the condo as a haven, their special place where it was just them and the things they felt for one another. Joe had to step outside a few times to take some business phone calls, but it didn’t bother Bruce. He was floating on clouds. They both were.
For the meals that they didn’t have delivered, Bruce cooked. It had been a long time since he’d felt such excitement to be in the kitchen. Joe may not have been a chef, but he certainly knew his equipment and had the money to spend on it. The kitchen was fully stocked with brand new cookware, and they went to the local farmer’s market to buy a host of fresh ingredients. Joe prepped while Bruce cooked, and they managed to make a ridiculous mess in the kitchen while laughing the entire time.
That Sunday evening, Joe brought out an expensive bottle of red wine he’d gotten as a gift, and the two of them shared it together up on his condo’s rooftop patio. Joe cleared away the small table and chairs that he’d set up there and laid down a blanket with cushions and candles for a sunset picnic. Bruce lay in Joe's arms, and they sipped on the tart wine and watched as an airplane flew over them, just a small speck leaving a long white trail against the pink evening sky.
Bruce’s hand crept into his. “Remember when I beat you up?”
“Excuse me?” Joe laughed.
Bruce touched Joe’s jaw where he’d landed his introductory knockout punch. “If we’d never gone to that class together, we probably wouldn’t be here. We probably would never have met.”
“Maybe,” Joe agreed.
“You know I’m not going to go any easier on you, right? Just because we’re sleeping together.”
“You better not,” Joe laughed. “I’d never forgive you if you pulled a punch. Did I tell you what happened when you tagged me here and I went down?”
“No, what happened?”
Joe rubbed his jaw, recalling that spectacular bloom of white. “You made me see flowers.”
Bruce snorted. “Flowers? What do you mean?”
“You know how people say they see stars? Or how in those cartoons the little ducks float around their heads?”
“Yeah. And you saw flowers,” Bruce laughed. “Really?”
“Yeah. It was bizarre. White flowers, blooming everywhere. Their petals glowed.”
“That is something,” Bruce said. He was wondering why the vision of white flowers seemed so familiar, and then remembered the dream he’d had just a few days ago. His mother…she had given him a bouquet of white roses in that dream. It seemed like such a long time ago.
“I’ll never forget that,” Joe said.
“You sure you shouldn’t have gone to the hospital?” Bruce teased. “I might’ve knocked something loose up there.”
Joe laughed. “Maybe you did.” He kissed him.
“I wish it weren’t Sunday,” Bruce sighed. “I wish we could just do this every day. Not have to worry about anything else.”
“Mm,” Joe agreed, distractedly. “Back into the office.” He stroked Bruce’s hair and then planted a soft kiss on his neck. “We’ll do this again.”
Bruce shifted his body so that he could look into Joe’s dark eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing,” Joe said. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“It’s work related.”
“Yeah.” He squeezed Bruce’s hand.
“It’s okay. Tell me, if you want.”
His concerns about the future of The Standard had been on his mind for some time now, but the events of the last two weeks had been a sort of catalyst that had sent his thoughts about it into overdrive.
The company had taken on a direction that didn’t quite fit with the spirit he’d first started it with, but Joe’s attitude had become complacent. Growth, the advisors had repeated into his ear. More profit. Go big, or go home. He’d become okay with huge corporate expansion, with going for huge profits, with seeing that little line on the graph rising. Hell, he was more than okay with it. His fiery attitude towards reaching success had gotten him there, and at full throttle, it wasn’t easy to stop. He’d come to enjoy a kind of perverse thrill of being the biggest dog in town, of knowing that The Standard could beat all other competition.
He’d exchanged his values for profits, but feelings of increasing emptiness had forced him to reexamine eve
rything he’d done. It was why he’d made the controversial decision to separate from the head office and move back to San Diego. Now, he thought he knew what he needed to do next.
Joe took a long gulp of wine and mulled over his thoughts. Bruce waited patiently for him to speak.
“There’s an extremely difficult decision I need to make for the future of my company,” he said. “And I don’t know if it’s the right direction to take. Actually, it’s two-part problem. But they’re both intertwined, in a way. For a while now, the company has been traveling down a path of fantastic growth at the cost of our quality. The consumer doesn’t know, because most consumers don’t care. But I know, and it hasn’t been sitting right with me.”
