by Helena Stone
Suddenly it wasn’t enough. Cian wanted what Mitch had. He stepped back, forcing himself to ignore Mitch’s disappointed whine as he stepped out of his pants. As soon as he was naked, he reached for Mitch, pulling him to his feet and divesting him of his clothes as fast as possible.
“Get on the bed.” Cian turned Mitch in the right direction. “In the middle.”
Mitch shot him a heated glance over his shoulder before doing exactly as he’d been instructed, draping himself across the length of the bed, on his side, with his head resting on his hand.
Cian took a second to grab a tube of lube and throw it onto the covers before following Mitch but mirroring his position so he faced Mitch’s feet…for now.
“I like the way you think,” Mitch muttered, his voice rough. He pushed himself up the bed until Cian’s view changed from feet to cock. The sight made his mouth water, and he leaned toward it, eager to lap the pronounced bead of precum off the tip.
It was as if they’d planned it. The moment Cian pushed his tongue against the swollen head of Mitch’s dick, he felt Mitch’s lips around his own erection. Heaven.
He lost himself in the dual pleasure of having Mitch suck his cock as if his life depended on it and tasting his boyfriend on his tongue, feeling the hard flesh in his mouth. Still not enough. He shifted his position and reached out with his free hand, brushing it along Mitch’s balls before pushing against his thighs until Mitch parted his legs. When he brushed a finger across Mitch’s hole, the cock in Cian’s mouth twitched, expressing Mitch’s pleasure better than words ever could.
Mitch copied his movements, and Cian was all too happy to spread his legs and allow Mitch access. The combination of Mitch’s mouth on his cock and Mitch’s finger teasing his hole was everything…too much and… Still not enough.
Without releasing Mitch’s cock, Cian withdrew his hand and fumbled around until he’d squeezed a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers. He didn’t need an interpreter to explain what Mitch’s soft bite into the flesh of his straining cock meant, and pushed the tube down the bed, shivering in anticipation when he heard the telltale squirt moments later.
He eased a finger into Mitch, adding a second one almost instantly when he encountered little resistance. Mitch, o glory be, copied every one of Cian’s actions until Cian couldn’t tell any longer where he ended and Mitch began. They moved as one, heads bobbing in sync while fingers pumped in and out of tight holes in a matching rhythm.
This will be over in seconds. Cian felt his climax building, a tingling sensation, somehow starting simultaneously in his toes and on the top of his head. He lost his rhythm as need took over, and he gave what he wanted to receive, taking Mitch deeper, forcing his fingers further into Mitch, searching out his prostate while totally lost to lust as Mitch did the exact same things to him.
Cian would have shouted out when his orgasm hit, but Mitch came only a moment later, his cock throbbing in Cian’s mouth as Cian tried to swallow everything, down to the very last drop. Cian didn’t allow Mitch’s softening dick to slip from his lips until both of them stilled on the bed. He pressed a soft kiss to Mitch’s hip, then scooted up the bed until his head hit a pillow.
“Come here.” Cian stretched his arm across the pillow next to his in invitation, using it to pull Mitch close as soon as Mitch’s head rested on his shoulder.
“Give us a kiss,” Mitch demanded softly.
Cian was all too happy to oblige, opening his lips against Mitch’s and relishing the taste of their combined climaxes when their tongues met.
This is perfect. We’re good. There’s nothing to worry about. In that moment, Cian believed those words with all his heart, and he pushed the irritating voice in the back of his mind, the one telling him he and Mitch had issues to resolve, firmly into the background.
Chapter Five
“So, all we need is for Mitch to agree, and we’ve got ourselves our first gig.”
Ro’s voice welcomed Mitch as he closed the door to their practice space behind him.
“Agree to what?” Mitch asked, ignoring the second part of Ro’s statement for a moment.
“We’ve been invited to perform during a Halloween party.” Ro grinned at him. “They’ll be paying us too. Two hundred Euro for ninety minutes of tunes.”
“We don’t know ninety minutes worth of tunes,” Mitch retorted, still unable to make himself focus on the gig part of their conversation.
“Not as a group, no.” Patrick jumped into the conversation. “But if you add on all the songs some of us, or only one of us know, we’d easily fill that much time.”
Mitch thought about that for a moment. In the four weeks since he’d started playing with the group, he’d also started watching tutorials on the Internet and had mastered a few songs. If that was true for him….
“Go on, Mitch. It will be fun,” Ro said.
Mitch mind spun. Part of him was excited by the idea and wanted to jump on it. Another, much louder part of him was terrified at the prospect of performing in front of an audience. For crying out loud, he’d only bought his ukulele last weekend.
“All of you want to do this?” Mitch wasn’t sure what response he hoped to get. If one of the others had any reservations, Mitch was out. It was too soon…he needed more practice. If, on the other hand, they all agreed….
He acknowledged the four beaming faces with a small nod. “Okay. I’m in.” I must be mad. He opened his bag and extracted his brand-new, rainbow-striped ukulele. “If we want to look as if we know what we’re doing, we’d better practice.” He strummed the first chords to “Over the Rainbow,” smiling broadly when the others joined in and Cora started singing.
Ready or not, he loved making music with these guys. They were a mismatched group of individuals who all found pleasure in the same activity and, more importantly as far as Mitch was concerned, didn’t judge. Nobody cared what the others looked like, how they loved, or who they were attracted to. He’d mentioned Cian the second time they played together, and nobody had so much as batted an eyelid. They hadn’t asked questions, weren’t curious, and basically didn’t appear to care one way or another.
Mitch glanced at his—yes, they were friends, as Patrick kicked off “Wonderwall.” He’d gotten to know them, about them, over the past few weeks. But none of what he’d learned had changed his opinion about them or made him see them differently. He didn’t care Cora had a girlfriend or that Ro refused to be labeled. He hadn’t realized Patrick was transgender until he’d said as much, although Mitch guessed it went some way toward explaining why he didn’t want to be called Pat. And then there was Harry.
“I’m the boring one,” Harry had said the day they somehow ended up talking about themselves while taking a break from playing. “You don’t get more stereotypical than me.” He’d somehow managed to put contempt, for himself, in his voice, as if he resented who he was…just as Mitch used to resent being gay. “I’m male, I’m straight, and I’m white.” He’d laughed. “In some people’s eyes, that makes me the enemy.” Mitch hadn’t missed the guilty glance Cora threw at Harry or the reassuring smile with which he responded. “And yes,” Harry had continued, “I was named after Potter, seeing how I was unfortunate enough to have a mother who was an early fan.”
“Oh, one more thing about the gig,” Ro said when they finished the Oasis song. “Since it’s a Halloween party, they suggested we might dress up.”
“We could do a Harry Potter theme.” The words escaped Mitch’s mouth before he could think about them, and he knew Harry was glaring at him before he faced him. He shrugged and mouthed “sorry.”
“Radical.” Ro grinned. “Four of us get tops in the various house colors and maybe a tie, and one of us could dress up as Snape or Dumbledore.”
“Or McGonagall,” Cora huffed.
“Guys, do we have to?” Harry sounded both resigned and exasperated.
“Yes, I think we do,” Patrick chimed in. “If only because I actually own a Slytherin jumper and tie.”
“Slytherin?” Mitch, Ro, Harry, and Cora spoke at the same time. Then all five of them broke out laughing.
Five minutes later, after they’d all calmed down, Harry had not only agreed to the plan but also promised he’d dress up as…who else…Harry.
When Mitch approached his apartment, the idea no longer terrified him. If he were honest, he had to admit he was sort of excited about the whole thing. I can’t wait to tell Cian. Ro had said they were all allowed to bring one guest, and Mitch looked forward to showing Cian exactly what he’d been up to, even if he hadn’t yet played in front of Cian.
The thought stopped him in his tracks for a moment. Why was that? Mitch wasn’t sure why he’d gone out of his way to only take out his ukulele when Cian wasn’t home. He also couldn’t explain why he’d changed the subject both times Cian had asked him to play something.
And what if Cian asks you to play for him tonight?
Probably not, he honestly answered the question for himself. Part of him yearned to share his new hobby with Cian, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it because… As he unlocked the apartment door, Mitch admitted what he’d always known, deep down inside, but had refused to admit: he didn’t want to share his music with Cian because he couldn’t envision getting involved in Cian’s rugby. Unable to picture himself fitting in with a bunch of big and loud rugby players, and not wanting to embarrass Cian, keeping his distance seemed the safest bet. And if Cian could have a part of his life just to himself, so could Mitch.
How old are you now? His mother’s voice was so clear in his head he was tempted to look over his shoulder, fully expecting to find her there. In reality, his mother was miles away and blissfully unaware of anything but the broad outlines of Mitch’s life.
The door opened, and Cian stared at him. “I thought I heard you. How long were you planning on looking at the door?” He smirked. “Is there something wrong with it?”
Mitch forced a small laugh. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts for a moment.” He entered, pressing his lips against Cian’s as he strode past him. “Exciting things happened tonight.”
“Oh?” Cian followed him into the kitchen, where Mitch dropped his backpack and ukulele against the wall and opened the fridge.
“Wanna drink?” Mitch glanced over his shoulder at Cian.
“Sure. I’ll have a beer.”
Mitch grabbed two cans, closed the door, and led the way to the living room, where he collapsed onto the couch.
“So, are you going to tell me about these exciting things?” Cian asked after he’d opened his drink and taken a long sip. “Because I’ve got news too.”
Mitch drank from his can, wondering whether he wanted to hear what Cian had to say first. He almost laughed at himself. He was too excited to wait. “The guys and I have been invited to play a gig.”
“What?” Cian sat up. “That’s fabulous. You’ve only been together for a few weeks. When are you playing? I can’t wait to see you perform.”
“Halloween night,” Mitch said as a warm feeling caused by Cian’s obvious interest spread from his chest. “And….” The frown forming on Cian’s face robbed him of his words while a chill erased the earlier heat. “What’s wrong?”
“Remember I said I had news too?” Cian asked, his voice devoid of his earlier enthusiasm. “The Warriors are throwing a party, and I was going to ask you to come with me.”
The logical question would be “when,” but Mitch had a feeling he already knew the answer. Cian’s unwavering stare did nothing to diminish the impression. Mitch knew he should say something but had no idea what. Even if it wouldn’t mean letting his friends down, he didn’t want to cancel the gig. Sure, the idea made him break out in a cold sweat, but he couldn’t deny it also filled him with excitement and even pride.
“Where are you playing?” Cian asked after they’d stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime.
Mitch blinked. “I have no idea.” He couldn’t believe the question had never crossed his mind, that he’d just agreed to play a gig wherever.
Cian’s eyes widened. “How can you possibly not know?”
Mitch felt more than a little stupid. “It wasn’t mentioned, and I forgot to ask.” He shrugged and looked away. “I guess I got too excited about the whole idea to worry about the details.”
“But it’s definitely on Halloween?”
Mitch couldn’t blame Cian for asking the question. If Mitch didn’t know the “where,” why should Cian trust him to have remembered the “when” correctly.
“Yes. I was going to ask you to come and watch me play. I guess that’s out of the question now.” Bollix.
Mitch couldn’t believe this turn of events. Part of him insisted his first public performance couldn’t be compared to and was more significant than any party Cian’s club might throw. Parties happened all the time, and goodness only knew when, if ever, Mitch would find himself on a stage again.
The devastated expression on Cian’s face indicated his thought process probably ran along the same lines as Mitch’s. “I guess we’ll be doing our own thing on the thirty-first. Fuck.” Something flared in his eyes. “I was looking forward to introducing you to the lads.”
Being proven right and the accompanying disappointment burned, and Mitch silently raged against the unfairness of it all. But he knew better than to suggest anything that sounded like Cian should forget about his party. He might not like it, but Mitch couldn’t deny Cian was happier since he’d started training. The enthusiastic stories after each training session combined with the way his eyes lit up when he talked about a particularly well-executed tackle made it perfectly clear rugby and the Emerald Warriors were an important part of Cian’s life now. More important than me?
Mitch pushed the question away, angry with himself for even entertaining it. “I guess there will be other parties.” He shrugged. “Who knows, there may even be other gigs.”
“Yes,” Cian said, visibly forcing a small smile to his face. “There will be lots of parties. And of course you’ll perform again. You’re going to rock that gig—I just know it.” He reached out and placed his hand over Mitch’s, which lay curled into a fist on his thigh. “And we’ve got all the time in the world.”
Mitch unclenched his fingers and twined them with Cian’s, taking comfort in the small gesture of togetherness and embracing the reassurance it implied. We will be fine. He forced himself to believe the words while doubts swirled in his mind.
Chapter Six
Cian got off the bus and slowly made his way toward the party venue. As much as he’d looked forward to this Halloween event, now that the time had arrived and he was on his way there…alone, his enthusiasm had vanished.
“Hey, gorgeous. Give us a smile.”
Cian looked to his left where a group of four or five men walked in the opposite direction. They didn’t look threatening, so Cian blew them a halfhearted kiss while continuing on his way. Any other day of the year he would have worried about walking through Dublin in the early evening dark, wearing a short leather skirt, bare legs, and rugby boots. Given it was Halloween, he didn’t think he had anything to worry about.
He wondered if he should have indulged in a drink or two before leaving the apartment, just to get him in the right mood. It wasn’t that he blamed Mitch for not being able to accompany him to the party. Of course, Mitch couldn’t let his musical friends down and spoil their first ever gig, just because Cian had hoped to introduce his boyfriend to his teammates. He wouldn’t refuse to play a game just because Mitch wanted him to be anywhere else. You didn’t do that if you were part of a team or band. But that didn’t diminish Cian’s disappointment. He couldn’t help wondering how Mitch would have dressed up or what he would have made of Cian’s newfound friends.
A black cat crossed the road in front of Cian, forcing a wry smile to his lips. Just as well I’m not superstitious. The last thing he needed was bad luck, especially since he couldn’t help feeling things—or rather his relati
onship with Mitch—hadn’t been quite right the past few weeks.
He kicked a lamppost as he walked past. The fact that Cian hadn’t offered to skip the party to go with Mitch didn’t help at all. The offer had been on the tip of his tongue more than once ever since Mitch had made his surprising announcement. Maybe if Mitch hadn’t been so reluctant to watch him play rugby… Cian pushed the thought aside, not liking what it said about him that it had even occurred to him.
He was curious about Mitch’s music, especially since he hadn’t heard him play once despite Mitch having joined the group weeks earlier. And he couldn’t wait to meet the other ukulele players, especially this Ro Mitch kept on mentioning and was obviously quite fond of.
Not for the first time Cian asked himself if he should be worried about Mitch falling for somebody else. Obviously, Ro and Mitch shared at least one interest Cian didn’t have. What if music wasn’t the only thing they had in common? What if Mitch decided he needed to be with someone who was more on the same wavelength as himself?
“Is that frown part of your costume?”
A deep voice, laced with humor, pulled Cian out of his darkening thoughts. When he turned his head, he recognized Conor, one of his teammates. Cian hadn’t spent a lot of time talking to him, but Conor seemed like a decent skin. “Sorry, I was miles away.” Cian forced a grin to his face.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll feel better after a pint or two. Can’t have you bringing the mood down, now can we?” He grinned. “This is John.” Conor pointed to the dark-haired man walking beside him. “You on your own?”
Cian bit back a sigh. He had a feeling he’d be asked that question a few times before the night was over. After he’d told Peter he had a boyfriend, the news had spread like wildfire through the team. As a result, people were bound to notice the elusive partner was, once again, nowhere in sight.
