by Willa Okati
“Ford!”
More, Ford needed more. Up the way they had the first time, Gavin’s back to the wall this time, but Gavin still straddling his lap, where Ford could hold him hard and let Gavin ride, straining against the strength, aglow with dark light.
More. He tasted Gavin’s mouth, stroking his tongue against Gavin’s in time with the pumping of his hips.
More, still more. Ford lifted Gavin off, soothed him through the disappointed glare and the moan of protest. Laid Gavin on his side and pressed in behind. Slipped in deeper than before and caught Gavin before Gavin arched off the bed.
He would always catch Gavin before he fell, from now on.
“To have and to hold,” Gavin said between gasps. He thrashed his head on the pillow. “Oh God, right there, right there --”
He’d never get enough of this, would he? Watching Gavin fall apart, not a shy curator nor a wary watcher nor a blushing doll, but a tiger riding him, taking all Ford could give and demanding, begging for more. Ford set his head to the back of Gavin’s shoulders and gave him what he wanted, what they both did. He splayed his hand open over Gavin’s chest, only able to hold on at first. When Gavin locked on tight and clung to him, he could finally free one hand to take Gavin’s cock in his fist and stroke him.
Not enough at first and more than enough, too slow and then too fast, but hard, no going back now. As it should be, as it was, as it was --
“Ford,” Gavin begged. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“Never will,” Ford said. He thrust deep and shuddered, wanting to stay there. Always.
Or until Gavin loosed a shaking cry and arched into Ford’s hand. “I’m,” he said, gulping. “I can’t -- Oh God, I love you --”
Ford came, as shocking as a gale, without a warning. He thought he might break something, but he didn’t fear it; he fucked Gavin through it, flooding him with cum that coated his cock and dripped out with each stroke, slicking Gavin’s thighs. The noises Gavin made, Ford would never forget, never wanted to.
He rolled them over one more time with the last of his strength, putting Gavin on top, where the cum that leaked from him would puddle on them both. One hand to keep Gavin still, one on Gavin’s cock. Mercy in what seemed like no mercy, love in the roughness of his touch. He didn’t let go. Not even after Gavin bowed forward to muffle a hoarse yell in Ford’s mouth and let go between them, his cum sticky hot on both their chests and seemingly never ending.
Ford let Gavin breathe. He needed the time too. But the second he thought Gavin could speak, he lifted Gavin over him again. His and Gavin’s cum was smeared over them both, white streaks that swirled and smudged about. Hair still wet from the rain. Bodies warmed. Still joined, Ford half-hard inside Gavin.
Gavin was as sleepy as a basking creature in the sun, the candlelight throwing him into all light and no shadow. He smiled. It looked as brilliant as Ford’s own felt. “What?”
“Say it again,” Ford asked. “Just one more time.”
The smile didn’t go anywhere. “I love you.”
“The love of my life,” Ford said, stroking Gavin’s hair, his chest, his arms. “As long as we both shall live.”
Stubborn to the last -- even like this, and Ford adored him all the more for it, Gavin lifted his chin stubbornly. And he laughed when he said it. “Other way around.”
People said there were no such things as perfect moments. People were wrong. Ford knew because this was one of them. Every dream he’d ever had, and every wish he’d ever wished.
Here and now, tonight, with Gavin, they’d come true.
Epilogue
“Ready for this?”
Gavin stood still and let Ford adjust his tie. Clumsy as ever and gentle as ever, but with a new ease to the way he moved. He’d finally found the grace he needed for that big body of his.
He could even knot a tie better than Gavin.
Gavin reached up, and up, and did the same for him. Once there, he left his hands resting on Ford’s chest, smooth onyx-dark tux so soft over such strength barely contained within. They’d had a hell of a time finding two of the same style that fit them both.
Worth it in the end to see Ford looking down at him the same way Gavin looked at him. Worth anything to feel inside himself and find no ice, but fire instead, a warm banked glow that he could fan into a blaze whenever he wanted. Needed.
Ford brushed his knuckles across Gavin’s cheek. “Beautiful,” he said.
Gavin grinned and didn’t correct him, but fair was fair. He mirrored Ford’s touch. “I’m not alone.”
Ford touched his lips to the inside of Gavin’s wrist. “And you won’t be ever again.” He stopped, letting go of a long sigh Gavin never had known he still had inside him. “Me neither.”
They had to get moving. Gavin took the time anyway to stretch up and kiss Ford, to muss him up without caring about that, all for the pleasure of seeing Ford dazed and grinning again.
“Fair’s fair.” Ford ruffled up Gavin’s hair and tilted his glasses on his nose.
Fair was fair indeed. Sometimes better than. Gavin took Ford’s hand in his and guided him forward. “Ready?”
“Since the moment I met you. Yes.”
Gavin kissed him once more before pushing the doors open into a bright room crammed with tables piled with fragrant food, and chairs filled with friends, with family, and with friends who were family. Mostly Ford’s, but in the three months it’d taken them to get a real wedding together, Gavin’s world had expanded by ever-widening circles every day. They knew him, they’d heard it all, and they welcomed him in as Ford had, without questions or criticisms.
Gavin closed his eyes for a brief second and savored the feeling.
Kayla stood, a microphone in hand. “It’s about time, you two! Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Mr. and Mr. Tremaine-Yamea?”
The applause never seemed to end. Gavin didn’t mind. Gavin loved it. Loved Kayla too, dressed like Cyndi Lauper in her heyday with lace and taffeta and pink hair up in spikes. What a crazy wedding. He couldn’t imagine one better and wouldn’t have wanted to.
Gavin took Ford’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers so that their rings rubbed one against the other. Gold bands that matched on matching fingers, one big, one small, both perfect.
Ford glanced down at the way they fit together. Gavin recognized that smile and, better yet, the lack of any doubt. “It’s a good sign,” Ford murmured.
Gavin didn’t let go. “What do you see, Ford? They lived happily ever after?”
“Why ask if you already know?”
“Because I want to hear it.”
Ford turned away from the crowd to take both Gavin’s hands in his, as he had before the officiant, and kiss him breathless. “And they lived happily ever after,” he said.
“Good sign,” Gavin said, just as Ford had.
Ford looked both delighted and surprised. “Gavin, we’ll make a believer out of you yet.”
“No need.” Gavin breathed in the roomful of noise and laughter and warmth and everything he’d ever wanted, and Ford, what he’d wanted -- needed -- most. “I already am.”
“Why?”
Gavin stretched up to kiss Ford and couldn’t stop smiling either through the kiss or what he said, though he thought he might burst from the strength of light inside him. “I’m still not sure about the rest of it, but I believe in this,” he said for Ford to hear and write across his heart. “I believe in love. Your love.”
Teasing to the last, Ford jostled him closer and asked in a way that could not be denied, “Tell me why?”
Gavin let all his cares, the last shreds of them, fly away to be forgotten. With Ford’s lips on his, he murmured and meant it, “Because it’s true.”
Willa Okati
Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants, genderfluidity, and a lif
elong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Favorite story types include: friends to lovers, reunited lovers, enemies to lovers, mpreg, polyamory, medical romances, Regency/Edwardian/WWII historical romances, and romantic comedies.
Willa at Changeling: changelingpress.com/willa-okati-a-35
