by Rachel Kane
Whatever happened to Val’s shivering? It has stopped now, and Charlie can sense he’s being watched carefully, Val looking down to see what’s happening. What’s he thinking? What does he think about what’s happening right now, the way those first two buttons are undone so that Charlie can put his lips against Val’s collarbone, the ridge of hardness under the soft skin?
It’s all Charlie can do to slow down, to tease rather than rush. If he had his way, his hands would already be sliding into Val’s pants, stroking him, pulling on him, freeing him so that Charlie could drop to his knees—but he has to go slow, and he hopes it’s as agonizing for Val as it is for him.
He’s sure it is. He finishes with the buttons and pushes Val’s shirt open. Before anything else, he presses his face against Val’s chest and inhales his scent, rich and sweet and mysterious.
When he opens his eyes—and he didn’t even realize he’d had them closed—he looks down and sees the evidence that Val is hard, sees the bulge in the stark shadows.
The hair on the back of Charlie’s neck is standing up.
“You don’t have to stand there,” he whispers, “with your hands by your side. You can touch me, if you want to.”
Val looks like he wants to protest, but it’s time for complete honesty, and Charlie knows he wants to. He lifts Val’s hand, he puts it against his cheek, feeling the warmth and softness of his palm. The pulse inside his fingers.
Then he guides Val’s hand down, over the front of Charlie’s shirt, down, down, until his palm is covering Charlie’s hardness.
At first Val acts like he might pull away. His hand opens. He gives Charlie a piercing look, an anxious look, a questioning look.
He’s not a centimeter away before his hand returns. He presses against Charlie. The heel of his hand applies the pressure, while his fingertips explore the outlines. The lantern makes his wide eyes sparkle.
It has been a long time since someone did this to Charlie. This simple touch, being cupped in someone’s hand, being stroked. People treat Charlie like he’s a bottom, like he’s submissive, like his own needs don’t matter, or like he’s supposed to take all his pleasure from serving someone else.
Val understands, though. He’s not just studying Charlie’s body, he’s watching Charlie’s face, he’s studying his expression, discovering if he squeezes Charlie just so, his lips will open and he’ll gasp. A smile flickers on Val’s face as he learns quickly what Charlie likes, the pressure, the slow, grinding pressure of palm against cock.
It’s funny the way there’s a whole world of body between lips and cock, and yet we treat them like those are the only two places worth visiting, like the rest is flyover country. He realizes he’s going to have to teach Val to spend some time in-between, because Charlie has a torso that likes strong hands stroking down its length, he has a back and shoulders that want attention, even his thighs, his knees, his ankles, every part of him wants to be touched with a hungry urgency.
But right now he’s keeping it simple. Right now he’s pressing himself against Val’s hand, his own hands draped over Val’s shoulders, eyes half-closed as he lets himself be pleasured.
That’s the lesson, that’s what he wants Val to learn. Pleasing other people is as important as pleasing yourself. There’s no way to have one without the other…although he wonders, if he reached down right now and touched that bulge in Val’s pants, would Val back away? Would it be too much for him?
There’s only one way to know. One of these hands he has on Val’s shoulders, one of these hands he’s using to steady himself, he brings it down and with a feather-light touch, he brushes Val’s cock.
A hiss, a gasp, a wide-eyed look. But it’s not fear. It’s the raw, naked need that Val is showing him now. A need to be touched. Charlie awakened something in him, and now that hunger has to be sated.
I know the feeling.
They can’t stay on the safe side of their clothes forever, and Charlie knows he’s going to have to make the first move. He unzips Val. That old dance of zippers and boxers and shirt-tails and belts, all the obstacles we put between ourselves, it always seems to take so long, and then there’s a minute when that dance is done, and Val is shivering again, from cold, from excitement, from feeling, for the first time, someone touching him.
Charlie respects that this is an important moment for Val. As much as he wants to rush ahead, as much as he wants this thick, heavy shaft in his mouth, between his legs, everywhere, he knows this is a breakthrough, a discovery, a first time.
First times are important. You have to treat them like they’re special. That’s why his hands are so slow. That’s why instead of immediately circling Val’s shaft with his fingers and jacking him to full hardness and aiming that slit right at his mouth, he’s cupping Val’s length between his warm hands, slowly, slowly stroking the sides of it, almost petting it.
When it is fully hard, it’s going to be daunting. Val’s a big guy. Right now there’s still a little play in it, a little softness, you can squeeze it between your fingers and feel the give, you can rub your thumb against the underside, drawing it all the way up to the tip.
That got it stiff. It went from halfway to all the way there, in an instant. If Charlie’s not careful, he’s going to trigger Val’s climax without even trying.
No, it’s time to consult Val. It’s time to ask him questions that he probably won’t want to answer. Here’s how it works, back on his tiptoes, whispering, “Can I kiss it, can I put it in my mouth, would you like that?”
Don’t think. He doesn’t want to see Val consider the options, he wants to know Val is as hungry as he is, as starving for this.
Val doesn’t waste a single moment before breathing, “Yes.”
If it were warmer, if they were somewhere else, then Charlie would sink to his knees right now. But Val is cold, and Charlie’s definitely cold, and there are blankets and things all around them, and they’ll both be more comfortable if they’re bundled up, so he tugs Val down, stretches him out on the blankets. Val’s cock is pointing straight up, although it’s so full and heavy, it wants to fall, wants to lie against his hip.
Charlie pulls a blanket over him, and crawls under. And keeps moving down, until there’s no light at all, just the warmth and the sound of Val’s shallow breathing, his cock there in the darkness guiding Charlie’s way.
It would be nice to look at it. One day he will. One day they’ll do this in broad daylight, and he’ll give Val’s cock proper study. Right now he has to go by feel. The way Val shudders as his lips touch the head, the warm, soft head, the head that feels like velvet, like silk.
It’s warm under here, and comforting. There’s something about Val’s scent, about the way he tastes; Charlie doesn’t know the words for it, but it reminds him of the day they sat in the cafe drinking espresso, the smoothness of that china cup, the warmth of the air and the spicy earthiness of the coffee mingled with sweetness.
He has got to slow down. The way he’s kissing Val’s shaft, the way he’s drawing his tongue all the way down until he’s buried in the soft skin of Val’s sack, it’s going too fast. He knows he’s going to make Val come, if he keeps going like this. He has to get back to teasing, get back to restraint, pull back a little so that he can make it last, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to taste Val, he wants to swallow him down, and in the end, it’s everything, it’s the safety and trust he feels with Val, it’s the warmth underneath these blankets, it’s the way Val said it’s wonderful when he saw the bus, it’s all of this and more that pushes Charlie to stretch his lips around that thick shaft, to suck him down, to listen to Val gasp and writhe beneath him.
“Oh…oh Charlie,” comes that quiet whisper. Tentative hands touching Charlie’s head and shoulders. Not forcing him down. Not using him like a fuck-toy, but so eager to touch, to feel every inch of Charlie at the same time Charlie is working his way down Val’s hardness, a sense of togetherness.
It’s honestly too much for Charlie. He doesn’t
even know when he gripped his own cock. He doesn’t remember doing it, but he’s using one hand to stroke Val into his mouth, and the other to stroke himself, and when Val gasps that one final time with that breath that stretches into a long groan, when Val lifts his hips and starts to come, Charlie’s hand is moving, squeezing, guiding himself to his own climax at the exact same time.
They’re coming together, Val into Charlie’s mouth, Charlie into his hand, like they’re one person, like they’re bound together, and Charlie whimpers at it because he’s not used to feeling like this, he’s not used to feeling so safe and so close, and it makes him come just that much harder, their bodies pulsing in time with their wild wild hearts.
12
Val
When I find something I like, I do it over and over and over again.
13
Val
“Oh shit,” said Charlie, rolling out of my arms. “What time is it?”
The morning sun was beaming into the bus, catching dust-motes, making the interior glow. I was in a tangle; blankets, shirts, my belt, everything was an incredible mess. Charlie’s hair was chaotic. I watched his flanks as he sat up and reached for his phone. The way his muscles and ribs moved together, so lithe and powerful.
I was hard again. I’m surprised my body thought I had the energy for it. I was sore.
“Oh no, oh no, I’m late,” he said. “I have early shift today.”
“Don’t go today,” I said, hoping my voice did not sound plaintive. “Stay with me. We can have breakfast. Well, first, I should change clothes. If I’d known you were going to do the thing with my shirt you did last night—”
He kissed me, but was in a frantic rush. “I wish I could. I do. But I’m already in trouble, and if Rumson finds out I’m late, he might fire me.”
I never did look up this Rumson fellow, even though I’d made a mental note to do so. I underlined my mental note. I should add it to my Big List.
There were things I could have said just then. Quit your job. Let me take care of you. Those kinds of things. But it wasn’t the right time, and I knew Charlie would fight me on it, and I didn’t want that. I wanted…
Let’s be honest. I wanted this, but in a warmer place. My bed, perhaps, rather than the cold bus floor.
So I had to agree. I had to let Charlie go, as much as I absolutely did not want to. “I’ll call my driver,” I said, and I could see him start to protest, just by instinct, before remembering he had no bike.
“It’s going to take a while for your car to get here,” he said, pulling on his jeans. I hated to see him button them up.
“If I knew how to drive, I could have a car here,” I said. “It’s on my list of things to do.”
He kissed me again, then shrugged into his shirt. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee or anything.”
“I’m not sure I know you well enough for you to make me coffee yet,” I said.
His arms around me, his face pressed against me. “I’m really happy about last night,” he said. “I hope you are too.”
“I could sleep a million years. But yes. I’m not sure I realized exactly how I’d feel. I would have done it years ago, if I’d known. It’s so exciting, Charlie. And even so, there are many things we didn’t try, but we should, for instance—”
“Slow down, big boy,” he said, letting me go and picking up a second shirt to pull on. “Because there are a few things we need to talk about. I loved last night, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t super-wise. No, don’t look sad, it’s nothing to do with you, it’s just, well, we need to talk about safety.”
I glanced at the door of the bus. It did lock, although I wasn’t sure that gave us a measure of safety that would make me comfortable under normal circumstances. “We could call a locksmith,” I suggested, “and perhaps install some kind of deadbolt system—”
“Wait, is that another joke?”
I looked back at him. “What were you talking about? Fire safety? Or—”
He laughed and grabbed me again. “Oh god, Val! You really are new to all this, aren’t you? Condoms. We need to talk about that kind of safety. You know, one of those big sexy talks about diseases and testing and protection.”
My brow furrowed and I whispered, “Do you have diseases?”
He shook his head. “No, but the smart thing to do is ask ahead of time. We cover it up with euphemisms. Like I might ask if you’ve seen your doctor recently. And you’d know what I was asking, and you’d tell me your tests were all clear.”
“I went to my doctor two months ago because I had a cold.”
“Yes, but were you tested? Was I? See, you just have to slip it into the conversation a little, to find out. I was tested after my last relationship. I’m negative.”
“Considering last night was my first time doing…well, anything, I think I’m pretty safe.”
“I’m sure you are. But part of this, part of doing all this, is taking care of someone, making sure you’re safe, they’re safe, everybody’s safe. Once you know that, it takes a lot of pressure off…also, it’s just nice to have someone show you a kindness like that, show you that they care about your well-being.”
“I have a lot to learn about all this,” I said.
“I don’t mind teaching you.”
“I owe you so much—”
“No. No, you don’t. That’s something I want you to put out of your head. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t owe you anything. We’re not doing transactions, remember? We’re done with all that.”
“Ah, good,” I said, “then you won’t mind if I buy you a bike today. As a gift.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone laugh and sigh at the same time before.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said.
“You know,” I said, looking at my watch, “it’ll be another five minutes or so before my driver gets here…”
My apartment had never looked nicer. I opened all the drapes, let the sun pour in. The furniture Theo had picked out was indeed comfortable, and I threw myself on the sofa, thinking about Charlie. I’d see him again tonight. Maybe I’d bring him here. I had to bring him here, I wanted him to see it.
For the first time in a long time, I had something to look forward to.
I had my thumb hovering on Theo’s contact on my phone, ready to call him and tell him all about it, before I stopped myself.
My brother couldn’t know about this.
How would it look?
I could imagine the conversation now.
You slept with an elf. A homeless Christmas elf who lives in a bus. What’s wrong with you, Val?
Funny how quickly you can go from feeling good to feeling defensive, when you’re challenged on something that you’ve liked, something that was meaningful to you. No one was even challenging me! Yet here I was, getting mad at Theo for something he didn’t even say. Something he would say, but he hadn’t yet.
But then, who could I talk to about this?
I thought about that, all the way to the shower. Because I really needed a shower. Really. If you’ve ever slept under thick wool blankets on the floor of a school bus, you know it can leave you feeling sweaty afterward.
The broad mirror in the bathroom reflected a Val who was carefully removing his clothes and putting them into the hamper. I don’t really look at myself. After all, who knows what I look like already, better than me? But this time, I turned to study myself. What had Charlie seen last night? He had been so eager. Eager enough to overcome all my fears.
My hair had fallen over my brow. I normally kept it tightly parted and combed, with the help of a product Theo had recommended. Now, though, it was just over my left eye, giving me a rakish look. Blinking, I considered. I wondered if I dared leave it like that. What would happen to the world, if I didn’t keep my hair just so? It’s not like I was attending board meetings with similarly styled men anymore.
I ran my fingers through it, pulling it down further. Then began rushing my fingers over it, from the bac
k of my skull forward, combing all of it down, until I had bangs. Okay, that wouldn’t do at all. But if I pushed them over to the side like so…
What would Charlie like best? Would he have an opinion?
In the shower, I thought more about that. Not about my hair exactly, but about Charlie and his opinion of me. What had happened last night was a major event in my life…but was it, for him? He’d clearly had other partners in the past. A man who was that pretty, that muscular and powerful, that hot (if someone like me can use a term like that), had his pick of the men. So surely he saw something in me? Something attractive? It wasn’t just…pity?
Oh, that would be awful. I couldn’t imagine why I’d think that, especially right now, when I should be basking in the afterglow of my affair. Yet once I thought it, similar thoughts wouldn’t stop coming:
He only did it because he felt sorry for you.
You’ve never had a relationship, and you never will.
You’re too strange to be loved. Even your own family finds you too strange.
So much for a relaxing shower. I yanked at the faucet, shutting the water off, and grabbed my towel violently off the rack.
The trip to the doctor’s office didn’t help.
The nurse had a calm, polite tone, but the things she was saying weren’t relevant to my worries.
“Now, the rapid test can show prior infection, but if your first exposure was last night, it’s not going to show that,” she was saying. “So my suggestion is that we do the rapid test today, but that you come back in two weeks…”
My mind was elsewhere. I didn’t think I had any sort of infection. I watched her rub my finger with alcohol and then use a small machine to jab a hole in the fingertip. Watched the little drop of blood form, then the cotton-ball and the bandage and the if you’d care to wait we can have the results for you shortly.
