Thinking of You

by Rachel Kane

  “Charlie already made that joke, Theo, and it wasn’t very funny then, either.”

  “Who is Charlie—oh. Oh. Wait a second. Val, is Charlie there with you?”

  “He’s helping me pick out a tree.”

  “Are you two…are you… Oh god, Val. Tell me you’re not—”

  “Can you stick to one subject, please? The ceilings. I’m tempted to say they’re twice as tall as I am.”

  “You just met him. You’re not giving him money or anything, are you?”

  I stepped away from Charlie and whispered into the phone: “Theo, I don’t have time to talk about any of that now.”

  “So there is something going on between you two. You told me the other day there wasn’t, that you were making it up.”

  “This is none of your business. I’m asking you a very simple question.”

  “It is my business if you’re involved with someone who wants to use you.”

  Some people respond to social anxiety by shutting down. Some respond by blowing up. I could feel my heart pounding, could feel sweat prickling at my hairline.

  When I was a CEO, it was easier to deal with that anxiety, because I could simply order people to do what I wanted them to do. Hand down my commands, close my office door, and be alone.

  Much harder to do that when I was out in the open, when it was my brother rather than an underling, when Charlie was right there and I needed him not to hear any of this.

  “I can’t talk about this,” I said, my voice weak, unable to catch my breath.

  “Should I come up? Maybe we could talk face-to-face. I’m really not trying to stress you out, Val. I’m not. But…I don’t know. Could I meet him?”

  You want to vet him. You want me to submit to an approval process.

  “Val, is everything okay?” asked Charlie.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I told Theo, and hung up. “I’m afraid he didn’t know the answer to my question.”

  “It’s just, you looked worried,” Charlie said. He reached up and smoothed my eyebrows with his thumb. His touch was electric, but I couldn’t bear it, not now, not after being humiliated by Theo.

  You’re overreacting. That’s all. It has been a strange evening, a little on the emotional side. Theo didn’t humiliate you. He asked a natural question.

  I offered Charlie a smile, hoping it looked genuine. “Pick me out a tree,” I said, “and we’ll just make it fit.”

  It turns out, of course, that there is more to Christmas trees than the tree itself. There are lights, ornaments, a decoration at the top, none of which I owned. But here, I felt like I was truly in my element. Maybe I didn’t know whether silver balls or red balls would look better on the tree, but ‘let’s buy many boxes of each and sort it out when we get home’ was the sort of decision I was good at. Angel on top, or a star? Colored lights or white, blinking or still, remote-controlled or old-fashioned? Why don’t we buy them all?

  I’m sure we looked a sight, bursting into the lobby of my building, arms laden with boxes. The doorman happy to see us looking normal, I’m sure—or as normal as we could look, with me sporting the Santa hat Charlie had forced on me, and him in a much nicer elf hat than he had at work, with a much larger bell.

  The doorman coordinated getting the tree inside, grateful that it was just a tree and not a forest.

  But when he and the elevator man came in, holding the tree between them…I realized we had never done anything with the enormous stack of condoms and lubricants on the table in the living room.

  “I don’t know what kind of Christmas party you’re having,” I heard the elevator man whisper with a laugh, and the doorman just whistled innocently as they passed the table.

  I like shopping. I like whirlwinds of activity, where I know what I’m doing. And I like being home, sitting among all the evidence of my shopping, the boxes and bags surrounding me. Soon enough the others were out of my apartment, and it was just me and Charlie, the tree just the right height (Aha, they’re ten-foot ceilings, he said to me), the strings of lights stretched out on the floor so we could think about which ones to use, the whole room seeming magical somehow, like a fairy’s living-room, a million tiny lights glowing at our feet.

  “We should leave it just like this,” I said. “The tree natural and bare, but everything else covered in light.”

  “This is part of what I love best about Christmas,” Charlie said, sitting next to me. “The shadows look so different, when the lights are like this. Everything looks mysterious and magical.”

  “I am not sure how to tell you this,” I said, “but I am very happy I met you.”

  “Because I made you buy a tree?”

  “Because you’re the first person I’ve ever met who I can just be myself around. You don’t chide me for liking the things I like. You’re not convinced I need to change, for my own personal betterment or for the betterment of the world around me. Do you know what that’s like, to be a multimillionaire CEO and have people give you advice like, you should find a hobby or maybe you should join a club to make friends? I had the kind of success other people can only dream about, but it just wasn’t enough for the people around me. I had to be normal, too.”

  “Fuck normal,” said Charlie, leaning against me. “Normal is stupid. Normal is your parents basing their love on whether you meet their weird standards. Normal is getting loans you can’t pay back so you can get a job you don’t like to afford a house that’ll never really be yours. I’ll take the bus any day, just give me my freedom from that world.”

  I think I love you, I did not say to him.

  I couldn’t. For one thing, just thinking about it sent my mind down the rabbit-hole. What is love, how is it defined, how do you know if you’re feeling it, versus lust or some other emotion, and would this even be the right time to say it, or—

  “Do you want to try out those condoms?” he said to me.

  I glanced back at the table. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. We left a lot of things undone last night. There are things you need to learn to do.”

  “I do enjoy learning new things.”

  “That’s the spirit. But first, I’ve been at work all day…can I use your shower?”

  16

  Charlie

  Is it strange to have your physical attraction to someone be based on them listening to you? Charlie doesn’t know if it’s strange or not, but it keeps happening with Val. The more Val listens, the more he accepts Charlie’s words and his feelings, the more Charlie wants them both to strip down and get busy.

  Speaking of, here he is in the bathroom, all lit up and looking infinite with all these mirrors, shucking off his shirts and not sure where to put them. It’s so clean in here, he hates to leave his clothes in a pile on the floor. He pauses for a second to listen. He’s pretty sure he dropped enough hints, that Val will know Charlie wanted him in the shower too, right?

  He laughs, and sees all his reflections laugh too. Val’s not going to take a hint, that’s not how he works. He’s probably still sitting in the living room, politely waiting for Charlie to be done.

  “Say,” he says, sticking his head out of the bathroom door, “could I get a little help in here?”

  “What’s wrong?” says Val, probably thinking about insufficient towels or not enough soap, but when he gets closer, Charlie opens the door further, and reveals himself, almost unclothed. Chest bare, ridged stomach waiting for a touch, jeans undone and slid just far enough down his hips to show that thatch of dark-blond hair.

  “I thought you might want to come in and scrub my back for me,” he says.

  “Oh, do you need a scrub brush? I do have a selection of loofahs—whoa!” Val’s eyes go wide when Charlie pulls him into the room and closes the door behind him.

  “I need you,” he says, “in there, with me.”

  Val blinks and looks over at the tall glass doors of the shower. “Is that something people do?”

  “It’s very much something people do. It
’s something you and I are going to do…if you’ll get out of those clothes.”

  Just in case that message isn’t clear enough, Charlie helps. Val is caught somewhere between surprise and amusement, watching Charlie’s nimble fingers make short work of his buttons.

  There’s a moment there, when Val is almost undressed, when they catch themselves looking at each other in the mirror. It’s funny, they’re not shy, or at least there’s no reason for them to be, and yet they’re staring at their reflections, rather than the men right in front of them.

  Charlie is amazed by how good they look together. How this view, like stepping outside yourself, gets him even more excited. Like being a voyeur peeking into your own life. Val is tall, he looks like a sculpted marble statue, somehow even more imposing when the clothes are off. Charlie can just see the thick base of his cock, while the rest is still hidden down in his pants. He wants to grab it, he wants to pull it out and suck Val off again, right here, staring at himself in the mirror, watching Val’s big cock bulge his cheeks.

  But he really, really wants to get him into the shower. He wants steam and hot water and suds and hands all over him, and he pushes Val’s pants completely off and grabs him by the dick, leading him into the shower.

  It’s a fancy fucking shower, big enough for the two of them—hell, big enough for more than two. Val takes control here, showing him how to start the waterfall that floods down over them, so much water, more water than Charlie has ever seen in a shower, he’s instantly drenched and amazed, feeling like he could be carried away by the flood.

  In fact he lets himself do just that. He lets himself go limp, lets the water press him against Val, feels Val’s instinct to protect him, wrapping his arms around Charlie.

  Safe, he thinks. It’s just a word, but it’s the word that means everything to him right now. Charlie hasn’t felt this safe in a long time.

  He’s leaning back against Val, he’s resting the back of his head against Val’s shoulder, and Val does the natural thing. He runs his hand down Charlie’s chest.

  Last night, Val had seemed a little afraid. Willing to be sucked, willing for Charlie to do everything, scared to do it himself. Tonight, though, Val has worked up the nerve. Charlie’s nipples are hard, brushed by Val’s hands. Val is exploring him, his chest, his belly, and even though he’s well above the waistline, Charlie’s getting hard anyway. His cock is stiff, pointing out, ready. Ready for what? He doesn’t care. Anything and everything. A mouth, an ass, a pair of hands, anything. He didn’t get enough last night, he was a good and careful and patient lover last night, but tonight he needs payback. Tonight he needs to come and come, he needs Val to taste him, and to feel him plunge inside, and to be filled up.

  Maybe I’m just a top after all, he thinks.

  There’s a hitch in Val’s breath, when his hands sink down to touch Charlie’s cock. First times for everything. He’s never held anyone else’s cock before, not a bare cock, unprotected by layers of clothes. He doesn’t have to say it, Charlie already knows. He can just experience it, he can touch it, wrap his hand around it, reach a little further down until he’s feeling Charlie’s balls, it all happens without saying a word. They don’t need words when it’s like this. They understand one another.

  That’s why it’s no surprise when Charlie turns around, puts his hands on Val’s shoulders, and gently guides him down. Time for Val to learn a new trick. Is he nervous? He doesn’t seem to be. He seems receptive to everything Charlie wants him to know.

  This is how you nuzzle a cock, Charlie thinks, as though he’s lecturing Val. Val buries his face in Charlie’s thatch, in his groin, pressing his cheek against Charlie’s balls. He moves back far enough to get a good look at the equipment. He’s never seen one up close like this before.

  “It’s pretty,” he says to Charlie.

  “You like it?”

  “Can I…”

  “Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is yes.”

  No one has ever adored Charlie like this. At a certain point, his previous experiences just don’t matter, because he’s a virgin when it comes to someone being rapt with fascination at him. It’s his first time being worshiped. This isn’t just attraction, it isn’t lust, Val is looking at him like he’s an artwork, like he’s beautiful, and now Charlie’s getting a little choked up. Don’t think about it, don’t think, seriously, just feel it, but nobody looks at Charlie the way Val looks at Charlie, and he can’t help the emotion he feels. Thank god the shower is washing his tears away.

  Down to business. That’s the way to do it, right? Focus on the physical, not the emotional. Don’t worry about the way Val looks up at you, drops of water sparkling on his lashes. Wrap your hand around your cock, guide it to his mouth.

  Val’s eager now. He’s touching Charlie’s cock with his lips, it’s like velvet on velvet, soft. He’s got a million questions, Charlie knows that, but he’s keeping them to himself. Why is that exciting, knowing that Val is dying to say something, make a comment, ask, speak, but that he wants Charlie so much that he won’t say a word? Since when does silence make Charlie even harder? Yet it does. His cock hurts, it’s so hard, it’s so ready to fuck.

  When Val’s tongue touches him, he feels like he’s going to explode. His whole body is straining towards an immediate climax, and he’s thinking dirty things, filthy things, the way he wants to come on Val’s face, just spray him down.

  Actually…

  He thinks about all that lube in the other room. As much as he wants to get sucked off right here, as much as he can feel that brewing urgency inside him, what he wants most of all is to fuck Val. Wants to mount him, wants to get between his legs and plunge balls-deep into his ass.

  Charlie never thinks like this. He’s polite, he’s sweet, he’s everyone’s favorite elf, he’s not supposed to have thoughts like this, but with Val going down on him in the shower here, with his balls tightening, ready to deliver their load, all he can think about is how tight Val’s ass must be, how it would feel to take this big man from behind.

  “Did I—should I—” Val looks concerned when Charlie slides his cock out of Val’s mouth. He looks hurt. Did he do something wrong? He wants to make it right. Charlie just shakes his head. The downpour of steaming water crashes over them as he pulls Val up, turns him around. “What are you—are you—”

  “If you’ve never done this before,” whispers Charlie, “it can be a little scary. But you have to trust me, okay?”

  “Trust you…what do you…oh. Ohhhhh.”

  Let’s be practical. As much as Charlie might want to fuck Val right here in the shower, as hot as that might be, he’s a real person, he’s a virgin, he hasn’t done this before, and it takes a little care, a little time. That’s why all Charlie’s doing right this second is rubbing, caressing. His cock wants to go straight in, and it’s a fight to tell himself no, that’s not even possible, it’ll be better if Val is completely ready.

  Val’s soap smells of sandalwood and honey, and it froths up in Charlie’s hand. A pantomime of bathing, it looks so innocent, the sudsy circles he’s making on Val’s ass. But every time that circle passes between the cheeks of that ass, he gets a little closer to where he wants to be. Not rushing things, not forcing his way in, because at this early stage, even fingers would be unwelcome. But just gently washing, touching, circling, while listening to Val moan softly against the tile.

  “Are you going to…” Val doesn’t have the words for it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I do. I absolutely do.”

  “There’s this thing I like to do first…”

  Why speak? The words will only get in the way. All he needs to know is that Val wants it, that they both want it, that he has permission.

  The suds splash down to the floor as Charlie rinses Val off. His ass is shining now under the bright light overhead, practically sparkling with the waterfall. Charlie kneels, he gently spreads the cheeks apart, and he kisses Val, a soft, warm kiss that makes
Val shudder.

  It’s funny, Charlie almost wants to offer a disclaimer, I don’t do this with everyone, I don’t do this with anyone at all, I want you to know this is special. His lips and tongue feather-light on Val’s ass, teasing and tentative, the first tiny steps towards what he really wants to do.

  Val’s grateful whimper, when he feels Charlie’s tongue, tells him he’s doing the right thing, moving in the right direction, these little circles with his tongue, these flicks, these pokes. That thick, heavy cock of Val’s is responding—has been responding this whole time—and is throbbing in Charlie’s hand now. He doesn’t want Val to come yet. He wants him to save his climax for when Charlie’s inside of him. But he doesn’t have control over that, does he? If the feeling of Charlie’s tongue probing his ass is going to send him over the edge, there’s nothing to do about it but ride it out.

  “Will you—” Val swallows, he’s nervous and excited at the same time, he’s blushing, and whether that’s embarrassment or lust or just the flood of hot water splashing over them, who can say. “Will you put your…your cock in me?”

  It just about sends Charlie straight into an orgasm, hearing him say that. He stands back up and hugs Val tight from behind, his cock pressing against Val’s wet ass. “I plan to. We gotta get out of here though. We have to use some of that stuff you bought. You’ll see.”

  Val’s bed, like his shower, is almost too luxurious. It’s hard to imagine how many people you could fit on here. A thousand pillows, a thousand blankets, a mattress that you sank into, like there was a spirit inside it, something mythological, Charlie’s thinking of fairies and nymphs, pulling you down to your slumber.

  But sleep is the last thing on his mind. His lover is stretched out and bare before him, and although there are things to be done, steps to take to fulfill his desire, for a moment he just wants to hold Val, to kiss him, the idle touches and grasps and whispers.

  Trust me, okay?

  Of course I trust you.