by M. J. O'Shea
“Um, thanks again,” Gray said. He’d never been one to deal with silences well, uncomfortable or not. And weirdly enough, he wasn’t uncomfortable with Arlo. He should’ve been after the kiss and the way he’d acted the past week, let alone the way he acted the whole first month Arlo had been around.
“Gray, are we going to talk about how we feel about each other?” Arlo asked. Out of the blue and everything. Did Gray say something about not being uncomfortable? Take that back. He gripped his mug.
“What do you mean?”
Arlo put his own mug down on the coffee table, took Gray’s out of his hands, and threaded their fingers together. Gray heart sped up, thunkthunkthunk, in his chest. Arlo’s hands felt impossibly soft against his. ”You have to feel it,” he said. “I know you do. Why lie about it?”
“I want you. Like all the time,” Gray blurted out. It was the first thing he thought. “I barely know you, and I want you. Does that make me crazy? Is there something wrong with me?”
Arlo flashed a small smile. He looked down at his lap. “No. There’s nothing wrong with you. I think about you all the time. I swear I know where you are when you’re at home, when you’re walking by to get to the office, when you’re taking the next street over on your way home so you can avoid me…”
“I wasn’t —”
“Yes, you were. Didn’t you like kissing me?” His eyes went big and wide and a little hurt. Gray was horrified for a moment that he might have hurt him yet again, but then he gritted his teeth.
“You know I liked it.”
“I do. I liked it too, more than anything I’ve ever done. I just don’t understand why you’re fighting us.”
“I can’t be like you, Arlo,” Gray said.
A flash of pain shot across Arlo’s features. “What do you mean?” He looked like he expected the worst. Gray wondered what names he’d been called. How many new towns didn’t want to accept him just like Gray hadn’t? The pit in his stomach weighed heavy.
“I mean, people expect a lot of me, my family, the town. Me too I guess. I can’t walk into a room and charm everyone with cakes and a pretty smile. I’m a Baxter. Around here that means a certain thing.” Gray almost felt like he was reciting a line. His self-expectations had always felt right. He wasn’t sure about that anymore.
“It means you can’t have… someone who wants you? Someone who wants to be with you all the time?”
“Not unless it’s the right girl from the right family,” Gray said tightly. “People would talk.” Just like they’d talked about his father. Like they still talked about his father.
Arlo shrugged. “I guess I’m used to people talking. They always talk about me… at least until there’s something else to talk about. I just, I don’t know. I think we’re important. We feel important.” Arlo reached out, tentative like Gray would bite back, and cupped his face. “I want to kiss you again so badly,” he murmured.
Gray couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much — too much Arlo in a small enclosed space, too much quiet, too much of that smell driving him crazier than he already was. Rumors be damned. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Arlo’s shoulders, and he kissed him. It was glorious — even more glorious than a kiss drunk on cake and alcohol, even more glorious than a brush of lips under the autumn moon. It was real and right, and it wasn’t ending until they both got what they desperately needed.
“Gray?” Arlo whispered against his mouth when the pulled apart. He sounded hesitant and worried.
“Kiss me again,” Gray muttered back.
“Are you sure?” Arlo asked.
“No.”
But he couldn’t stand to be anything else so he did the only thing he wanted to do at that moment. The only thing he’d wanted to do for weeks. Gray pulled Arlo in for another deep kiss. He sank his tongue into Arlo’s mouth and tasted. He twined his fingers in silky damp curls. He reveled in finally getting to do what he’d wanted to do for days and weeks. Forever.
“Gray,” Arlo breathed. “My room. Please.”
Gray panicked. “I haven’t…” Other than a few stiff, awkward nights with Caroline that he wasn’t in any hurry to relive, Gray’s entire experience was that one party kiss with a stranger and, well, Arlo. Not exactly Casanova material.
“No, not that. We don’t have to. Just, touch,” Arlo said. His voice had gone thick and syrupy and slow. Gray shuddered in his arms.
“Okay. Yeah.” He didn’t have the strength to say no again when everything in his body wanted to say yes.
They walked, stripping clothes and kissing, to Arlo’s small room. It was still plain but more personal somehow. There were bits of Arlo scattered about, a woolen scarf hanging off the side of his dresser, a bottle of cologne that couldn’t possibly be responsible for the best smell Gray had ever smelled, a pair of bright rain boots lined up neatly against the baseboard, a pile of novels on the bedside table. The room smelled like him, it was clean and soft. Gray loved it.
Arlo tugged him over towards the bed and walked backwards until they both tumbled onto it.
After that it was nothing but warmth. Kisses and touches, clothes disappearing. Gray hadn’t been in bed with anyone in years. He expected to be awkward like before, but it wasn’t. Instead, he concentrated on Arlo’s silky pale skin, on the way he hummed approvingly with every inch of Gray’s body that he revealed.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Arlo murmured when they were finally naked and under the covers. “So long.”
It might not have actually been all that long since Arlo moved to town, but Gray understood. His entire body yearned to be closer to Arlo, felt like he’d been waiting all his life for it. Gray looked at Arlo and saw huge eyes, warm and a little scared. He shivered when their skin made full contact, and he looked a little terrified.
“What’s wrong?” Gray asked.
“I’m afraid. Every time I think I’ve gotten closer, you push. I don’t want you to push me away again just because I finally get to touch you.”
“Bit too late for that. My clothes are long gone.”
Arlo’s eyes widened in panic. Somehow in the cozy warmth of his room, with a raging storm blowing outside the windows, Gray found the strength to finally let go. He reached up and cupped Arlo’s face.
“Relax, Arlo. I was joking. I’m not going anywhere.”
It felt so good to tease and smile. Arlo groaned and huffed out a soft laugh. Then he leaned in for another kiss. The kiss turned to two, then three, then Gray with his legs spread wide enough for Arlo’s narrow hips to fit as he kissed his way slowly down every tingling inch of Gray’s body.
Gray was on fire. Every touch stoked the flames, every kiss and he gripped the sheets harder. Nothing had ever felt so good. He let out a long whimper and felt the vibration of Arlo’s groan against his inner thigh, where Arlo had been busy sucking a love bite.
“You kill me,” Arlo whispered. His voice was throaty and low. “Your skin tastes so good. I can’t believe this is happening.”
Gray felt reckless and open. He tipped back his head and moaned. He wound his fingers into Arlo’s rumpled curls and curved his foot over a small but perfectly rounded butt cheek. “More,” he moaned.
“Fuck. Yes.”
It only took ten seconds of Arlo’s warm, wet mouth sinking down on his long-neglected cock before Gray lost all control and came harder than he’d ever come in his life. He wanted more, though. More skin and kisses. Gray thought he would’ve drawn away, freaked out despite his assurances that he wouldn’t, but he was too lost in the moment. He pulled Arlo back up his body and dragged him into a breathless kiss. It felt like their skin fused together a little in that moment, but maybe Gray was hallucinating.
He dragged his hands down Arlo’s back, fingers playing on muscles toned from baking, and a long straight spine. Arlo moaned into his mouth and rolled his hips against Gray’s. Gray felt him hard and damp against his thigh. He wanted to touch. No, he needed to. He wriggled his hand between them u
ntil Arlo separated their mouths and rolled to the side with a quizzical look.
“What’s wrong?” He said.
“Nothing.” Gray leaned over and kissed him again. “I just wanted –” He wrapped his hand around Arlo’s straining cock and dragged it up and over the head. “That.”
“Jesus warn a guy,” Arlo choked out.
Then he couldn’t speak anymore because Gray didn’t want to stop kissing him. They kissed, and Gray touched and reveled in Arlo’s groans until he was shaking and coming all over Gray’s hand.
Gray realized that the entire room was filled with the scent of vanilla frosting.
That had to be impossible.
Gray was much warmer than usual when he woke up. The watery post-storm sun was in his face, and he had warm muscled arms slung aro— Shit. Jesus shit fuck motherfucking shit. He was with Arlo. Arlo, who had his lanky but surprisingly strong baker’s arms wrapped around him, Arlo who was plastered against his back, Arlo who he’d — fuck.
Gray had slept with a man. Naked. All night. He was still naked with a man. He didn’t even have the excuse of alcohol. Gray had been one hundred percent sober when he’d decided to go to bed with Arlo. And he’d loved it.
Arlo had been sexy and generous, responsive, sweet. It seemed like he knew exactly how to touch Gray to make him lose all control and Gray wanted it again. Again and again. He didn’t want to do anything but stay in bed all day with Arlo and touch him again, taste him some more, kiss and press their skin together. He’d never felt anything like it. He couldn’t imagine not feeling it again.
I can’t. I can’t want that. It’ll take over my life and then things won’t be how they should and what would my family think? No, no, no. I can’t. Gray realized he’d been saying a lot of ‘no’ to himself lately. Especially when it came to Arlo, and what he wanted with Arlo. What he was fairly certain Arlo wanted with him as well.
And if that wasn’t enough to terrify the hell out of him…
Gray started to squirm out of Arlo’s embrace. He tried to hold his breath, so Arlo’s scent wouldn’t lure him back into a place he had no business being. He wriggled one toe out from under the covers, hooked it around the edge of the mattress and started to pull himself closer to the edge and —
”Heeey. Where do you think you’re going?” Arlo asked. His voice was gravelly and deep with sleep. He dragged Gray back up against his chest and dropped a soft, familiar kiss to the back of his neck. Gray entire body shuddered and settled, like it had already been worried about what he’d been planning to do to take it away from Arlo.
“Arlo, I can’t do this. I’ve got things to do. I have to get up.”
Things to do which included getting away from Arlo and staying away before the whole town saw what had become of him. What he’d done. Gray thought of Caroline, of his mother and his little sisters who’d bear the brunt of so much gossip if his little indiscretion got out. He couldn’t do that to them. They deserved better than someone with no propriety and even less self-control.
Arlo made a skeptical snorting noise against Gray’s neck. “You don’t have anything to do, you’re freaking out. I might not be my sister, but even I can tell that you’re about to lose it.” Gray breathed in and was surrounded by Arlo’s scent. Drugged by Arlo’s scent. It got stronger by the moment, pulling him closer, making him want to stay.
Who the hell am I kidding? Of course, I want to stay. Which is exactly why I can’t.
“I’m not freaking out. I just think that this wasn’t a good idea,” Gray said stiffly. Who was Arlo to tell him how he felt. Even if Arlo was completely correct.
“Why?” Arlo asked. “You promised you wouldn’t push.”
He tugged on Gray shoulder until Gray eventually rolled over and looked at Arlo. His stomach flipped when he finally got a long look. Arlo, beautiful Arlo, looked like an angel in the morning light. His hair was loose and curling against the white pillowcase black and silky against stark cotton, his lips were puffy with kisses and sleep, his cheeks pink and warm. He was so pale, pale and beautiful. The most amazing part was that his pretty golden eyes were soft and melty like all Arlo wanted to do was stare at Gray forever.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Arlo whispered. “Stay.” Arlo wrapped his arms back around Gray and pulled him closer.
“But—” Gray went to push against Arlo’s chest, but it was so sleepy and warm that he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. The push turned into a caress over a creamy shoulder, a puffy nipple, red and marked by Gray teeth, the tiny swell of his abdomen. Arlo slung his thigh over Gray’s very naked hip. Gray shivered.
“But nothing,” Arlo murmured. “Everyone will survive without you for a couple of hours. I want to kiss you.”
And he did. Arlo brushed kiss after indulgent kiss across Gray’s lips until they parted to him in. Gray inhaled deeply then. He knew what he’d smell. He’d gotten used to how enticing it was. But it was different somehow, less crisp more warm. Intimate. Arlo slid a hand down Gray’s back and cupped his ass, pulled him closer.
“Your skin…” Arlo murmured against Gray’s lips. “It’s so perfect.” He deepened the kiss, tongues and teeth and breath and skin until nothing existed but their bodies twined together in the watery morning light. “I want to taste you again,” Arlo murmured.
Gray let his hand slide down Arlo’s back as well, cupped a sweet little cheek and squeezed. Arlo groaned as he kissed him, sucked on his bottom lip until it released with a light pop.
“You feel amazing.” Arlo rolled over and pulled Gray on top of him, spread his thighs and rolled his hips upward. “Stay.”
All his lectures about self-control and denial went out the window. Gray’s willpower to say no went with them.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll stay.”
“Good,” Arlo said on a groan.
He let go of Gray’s hips and ran his fingertips up in the little tingly trails over Gray’s belly, his nipples, down his spine. It felt like sparks somehow, under his skin, like his entire body was reacting to Arlo — he wasn’t just turned on, he was floating in some body he barely recognized. Like if he looked close enough at his skin, it might be glowing.
“Come here,” Arlo murmured. “I want to kiss you.”
Gray thought he’d never get tired of hearing Arlo say that. It terrified him still, but in a good way. He leaned over, letting his belly brush against Arlo’s, bed-warmed skin against skin.
“I…” Gray started, but he didn’t know what to say. For once in his life, he let his actions take over.
Arlo’s skin tasted so familiar, after just one night in bed with him. It had already become an essential taste to Gray, something he’d crave if he didn’t get his fill. He licked and sucked his way from Arlo’s puffy love bitten nipples to his neck and jaw. Arlo groaned deep in his throat and wrapped his arms tightly around Gray’s body.
Gray was more than happy to stay right where he was.
He got a few looks from Sawyer when he wandered into the pub for breakfast with Arlo in the same clothes he’d been wearing the night before. Leo was in there as well, nursing a cup of coffee and an omelet.
“Um, morning guys. The usual?” Sawyer asked. He brought out mugs and poured Arlo coffee. Gray got his typical tea bag, milk, and hot water.
“Actually, I’d like to look at the menu,” Gray said. Leo sputtered in his coffee, and Sawyer’s eyes went wide.
“Hell must’ve fucking frozen over after the storm last night,” Sawyer said under his breath. He handed Gray the menu all the same. Sawyer walked away muttering and pushing at the sleeves of his green plaid shirt. Leo watched Arlo and Gray with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“Gray, weren’t you wearing that yesterday?” he finally asked.
Gray felt his cheeks turn a rather embarrassing shade of super hot pink. “Yes, Leo,” he said dryly. “Thank you for noticing.”
“But why—” he started. Then a look dawned on Leo’s face. Gray could nearly see the moment when he g
ot it. “Oh.”
Arlo giggled and slipped one of his hands into Gray’s lap, curled his long pale fingers around Gray’s thigh. Nobody had ever done that before. Obviously. He and Caroline hadn’t been affectionate in public. They weren’t super touchy in private either now that Gray thought about it. But Arlo just… touched him like it was no big deal. Like they’d been touching for weeks. Years. He squeezed Gray’s thigh and smiled at him, a soft little private smile.
All of a sudden Gray wished they were back upstairs in Arlo’s cozy little room alone.
“So you two are?” Leo asked. Bless him. Leo always had to have everything in neat little categories.
“We’re Gray and Arlo,” Arlo answered. And Gray could’ve kissed him right there if it wouldn’t have been desperately inappropriate. Even if he, Arlo, and Leo were the only ones in the pub other than Sawyer.
“That’s it?” Leo asked.
“That’s it,” Gray answered.
Leo didn’t look very satisfied with that answer. Gray willed him to drop it. He was only freaking out a tiny bit internally. If the word tiny meant every part of him was in turmoil other than the part that couldn’t stand to let go of Arlo’s touch. He needed his friends to stay calm.
Sawyer grinned at both of them. “Congrats for pulling your head out of your ass, Baxie.” He reached over and ruffled Arlo’s hair fondly, like he knew things Gray didn’t know.
Arlo giggled and leaned even closer to Gray.
Gray decided to get this potato scramble thing that Carrie was known for and he’d always considered a bit too extravagant. Arlo, of course, got gooey sticky cinnamon rolls and ate both of them with a huge smile. Gray wondered where he put all the carbs. His body was absolutely perfect other than two soft little love handles that Gray was obsessed with. He wanted to bite them, suck on them, keep them beneath his hands.
