Christian

by Sean Michael

  “Thank you. I’ll…I…thank you.” He blinked. It smelled like Salem.

  It smelled like safety.

  Salem climbed into bed and spooned up behind him. “Shh. Go to sleep, boy.”

  “Oh.” He snuggled right in, falling asleep with a soft sigh. He was safe, he was warm, and he could rest.

  Jerusalem held Chrissy while he slept, his eyes closed as he breathed in Chrissy’s scent. Chrissy was finally home where he belonged. Jerusalem didn’t know how long for, but he’d do his best to make sure it was for good this time.

  He’d watched Chrissy hurt himself over and over. They’d been in high school together—Chrissy’s parents had been strict, harsh, and as soon as their son came out, they’d turned their backs on him. It was a weight Chrissy couldn’t seem to push off his back.

  That had been the first time he’d taken Chrissy in—his parents had embraced him when he’d come out, and then Chrissy when he’d been kicked out. Jerusalem had been in love with the butthead even then.

  Over and over, he’d taken Chrissy in, and over and over, he’d let Chrissy go because he had a secret.

  A kink.

  A need.

  And trusted that eventually, his boy would stay. His boy would admit he needed a Daddy to take care of him.

  Chrissy stirred and a little voice in his head said he should get up, pretend to be busy. Still, he had his boy in his arms. He had who he craved. So he stayed where he was, breathing Chrissy in.

  Frankly, the man fit perfectly in his arms.

  He let his eyes close again, one hand rubbing Chrissy’s belly. He was going to have to think about this, plan this, and make sure they both got what they needed.

  He found himself rumbling, deep in his chest, offering a gentle comfort.

  “Salem.” Chrissy sighed softly.

  “I’ve got you, Chrissy.”

  He felt Chrissy melt, sinking deeper into dreams.

  Fuck, that felt amazing. Chrissy didn’t realize it had happened, of course, but at least Jerusalem knew that this was good, right. God knew Chrissy needed it as much as he did.

  He’d worked hard for this. He’d taken workshops, trained other boys for their Daddies, and he’d studied from Doms and Bears and Daddies. He was ready.

  He let himself relax and stop worrying on it. He let himself have faith that he was truly ready and this was the time he’d have Chrissy for good.

  Before long, he drifted off.

  He woke to Chrissy sliding from the bed, padding softly toward the bathroom. He watched that naked ass go, his balls drawing up slightly, his cock perking right up. He swore his palm itched to touch, to heat that skin up. He kept watching, knowing the view from the front would be just as good as the back view.

  Sure enough it was, though Chrissy’s hair was lank and stringy, the little goatee drawing attention away from the huge sherry-colored eyes. It was going to go as soon as he could manage it.

  His gaze drifted down from there. His boy was too thin by far, but that treasure trail led straight to the prettiest cock he’d ever seen. And he’d seen quite a few.

  “Hey, Salem. Where’s the best place to smoke? Down at the street?”

  “You need to quit, Chrissy.” It was a filthy habit, and Chrissy couldn’t afford it anyway.

  “I know. I will someday. Hell, I quit a lot, for about an hour at a time.”

  “Well, how about quitting now? Even if it’s just for an hour.” He was more than happy to help Chrissy quit, be support—the carrot or the stick, or both—whatever Chrissy needed.

  “For you. For an hour.”

  “Good deal.” They could discuss a second hour at that point. “You can use that robe again if you want, while we wash your clothes.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Chrissy smiled at him, the expression stealing his breath.

  He wanted to invite Chrissy back to bed and curl up around the man.

  Chrissy wrapped himself in the robe, humming low. “So soft.”

  “Hedonist.” It wasn’t a negative thing—lord knew he was totally hedonistic himself.

  “Yeah. Coffee? I’ll make it.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He rolled out of bed, easy in his own skin.

  Chrissy went to the kitchen, humming tunelessly as he started the coffee. Jerusalem stretched before slipping on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Then he sat at the island and watched Chrissy move around his kitchen. Chrissy looked good—like he belonged.

  “What—I guess it’s late?”

  He had to look over at the clock on the stove because he’d been so focused on Chrissy he hadn’t actually looked at the time yet. “One thirty-five. We’ve got the whole afternoon together.”

  “Yeah?” Was that hope in Chrissy’s eyes?

  He hoped so. Oh that was funny but all in his head so he couldn’t share or laugh out loud. So he just cleared his throat. “Yeah. There anything in particular you want to do?”

  “No. No, I just want to hang.”

  “We can totally hang. You know, Netflix and chill.” He gave Chrissy a wink. He knew what the kids meant by that and he’d totally be down for it if Chrissy wanted.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Ah, it seemed Chrissy didn’t know about the sex aspect of that saying. Shame. He wanted to come again with Chrissy. And again and again and again. And he was more than willing to do it no-strings attached if he had to. It had been a long time since they’d shared that together.

  Chrissy handed him his coffee with a smile. “Here’s your coffee, sir. Would you like anything else?”

  That sir went straight to his balls. “Thank you, boy. I’m good. We should order something to eat, though, eh?” He could go for a burger, a pizza, whatever.

  “Yeah. I wait tables. I don’t cook, still. Sorry.” Chrissy winked. “I’m not much use to anyone.”

  He popped Chrissy on the ass. “Stop that, yeah? There’s plenty of people willing to tear others down that you don’t have to do it to yourself too.”

  “Ooh, kinky!” Chrissy chuckled and wiggled. “You’ll make me spill my coffee.”

  “I could make you spill something else.” He flirted like mad.

  “Dork.” Chrissy floated closer, moving around to press against him. “You want to see if we still have chemistry?”

  “Yeah, I do.” No need to pussyfoot around it, right? He put his arm around Chrissy.

  “What can it hurt?” Chrissy opened the belt on his borrowed robe and let them press tight together.

  “Mmm. I think it could hurt if we do it here. How about we move this to the couch in the den?” It was comfy as hell, and there was entertainment handy when they were done.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Chrissy took his coffee in one hand and Jerusalem’s hand in the other.

  If the tingles that were going up his arm were any indication, the chemistry between them was still plenty hot.

  He remembered his coffee at the last moment and grabbed it off the island before heading down the hall to the game room. Aside from the comfiest couch ever—and he’d tested out a lot of couches in an attempt to find the right one—it had a huge TV, several gaming systems, a computer, and a boatload of books.

  “How fun is this? Wow.” Chrissy looked around, and he couldn’t read his boy’s expression.

  “Yeah? You like it?” He’d organized the room with Chrissy in mind. Somewhere Chrissy would like to spend time. “I was thinking of making it the workout room, but I put that downstairs instead.”

  “It’s cool. I mean, really. It’s a fantasy land.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at Chrissy. “Maybe after we play, we can play. If you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. Maybe we can.” Chrissy stripped off the robe, offering him that sweet body.

  He groaned, his cock springing right to life at the sight, and reached for Chrissy, grabbing his waist. Then he tugged Chrissy in, dropping their mouths together.

  The mustache and goatee tickled, but Chrissy’s hands were hot on his
skin, and he wanted—everything. He deepened the kiss, tongue sweeping through Chrissy’s mouth. His boy tasted good, even better than he remembered.

  Chrissy hummed for him, one hand digging into his sweatpants and wrapping around his prick. He groaned and pushed into Chrissy’s hand. He wanted so much more, but for now, this was incredible—a dream.

  Chrissy stroked him, base to tip, over and over, grip sure and strong. Humming, he grabbed Chrissy’s ass in one hand and that sweet cock in the other, just fondling for now.

  “So hungry,” Chrissy whispered, and Jerusalem knew his boy had no idea. Not yet.

  “Feed me, Seymour,” he teased.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Chrissy nuzzled into his throat. “I’ll make you feel good.”

  “That’s gonna work both ways, you know.” He wasn’t going to let Chrissy make him feel good and not return the favor. That wasn’t who he was.

  Chrissy leaned in, petting him, stroking him good and hard. Something told him they should have sat down before they started this, but he guessed they could collapse once they’d come.

  He matched Chrissy’s movements, adding a rub of his thumb across the tip of Chrissy’s cock, pressing against the little slit-lips.

  Chrissy gasped, his lips parting. “Oh fuck.”

  “Mmm. You like that?” He did it again, watching Chrissy’s face.

  “Yes. Fuck yes. Jesus, you make me nuts!” That was a pretty arch, deep and easy.

  And this was nothing. He’d learned things that would turn Chrissy inside out. For now, he kept running his thumb back and forth across Chrissy’s slit.

  Chrissy’s grip got loose and clumsy, awkward, and he knew his boy was close. He added pressure, pinching Chrissy’s cockhead.

  “Salem…” The look of pure astonishment was beautiful, something absolutely necessary.

  “I’ve got you.” It was a promise.

  “I was trying to get you…”

  “You will.” He wanted Chrissy to go off first, though. He wanted to watch Chrissy’s face as he came. He let his thumb push into the slick slit, and Chrissy’s knees buckled.

  He had Chrissy, though, kept Chrissy upright and tight against him.

  “Please. Fuck, that stings. It’s so big. Fuck me.”

  “This now, fucking later.” He pinched again. He wanted Chrissy’s orgasm.

  Chrissy arched, spunk pouring from his boy.

  Oh, fuck—that smell. Between that and the expression of pleasure on Chrissy’s face, he nearly came himself.

  He kept rubbing and stroking, watching as Chrissy’s body went through pleasure to sensitivity. He slowed his movements, stopping and simply holding Chrissy’s cock when his boy whimpered.

  “Wh-whoa. Salem. Damn.”

  He just smiled. He knew. And he was determined to have Chrissy need it, deep in his bones.

  Chrissy leaned against him hard, fingers tightening around his cock again. He nodded, kissing the top of Chrissy’s head. Yeah, he’d have his turn now, and then they’d sit, cuddle, and play, maybe make out again later.

  Chrissy loved on his cock, worshipping it with a sure touch.

  He let himself go, let that touch pull him over into his orgasm. He cried out as he came, spilling over Chrissy’s hand.

  “God, you’re pretty, Salem. So fine.”

  “Yeah?” He brought their mouths back together again, slipping his tongue into Chrissy’s mouth. God, he couldn’t get over this man, and he knew he didn’t want to.

  As he plundered Chrissy’s mouth, he shifted them a little to the right and dropped them down onto the couch. He groaned as Chrissy cuddled in, pressing into his side. Chrissy fit well against him, like the man belonged right there. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought so, and he imagined it wouldn’t be the last.

  He kept kissing, loving the simple making out.

  He almost reached for a nipple, then remembered the infection at the last minute. He’d have to wait. Oh, the things he could do with those once it was healed—he didn’t want to give one too much attention when he couldn’t touch the other. He groaned at the thought of Chrissy in a pair of nipple clamps.

  “You okay, man? Hurting?” Chrissy asked. Sweet boy.

  “God, no. I’m expressing my enjoyment for what we’re doing.”

  “Good. Good deal. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

  “I’m not feeling bad at all, baby. This feels great, don’t you think?” Salem wanted Chrissy to admit this was good, to know they had something amazing together. He needed Chrissy to want to stay.

  “Yes.” Chrissy rested against him. “I haven’t had another man’s hand in a while.”

  “I imagine we can do better than just another man’s hand. Later.” He had plans for Chrissy. Lots and lots of plans.

  “You’re way better than just another man.”

  “You’re damn straight, I am.” And he was pleased that Chrissy felt that.

  He got a soft chuckle, a snuggle.

  “You want to play some Skyrim or Mario Carts or something?” He had loads of games to indulge in.

  “Sure. I’m all yours. All day.”

  “I want to do stuff that you want to do, too, though. If you’d rather watch a movie…” He was planning on indulging Chrissy so he didn’t want to leave.

  “No, let’s play. Together. Seriously. Let’s play.”

  “Good boy. Let’s do Mario Carts—total driving mayhem.” And he even had the steering wheel attachments for the controllers.

  “Rock on. I’ll kick your butt.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think so.” He got up and found the steering wheels, the controllers, and the game cartridge. Shoving that into the Wii triggered the TV coming on, too, so he grabbed the remote to control the volume and went back to the couch.

  Suddenly they were in high school again, teasing and playing, bumping into each other as they played. Jerusalem hadn’t had so much fun in a dog’s age and he sank into it, enjoying every second.

  Chapter Two

  Salem was sound asleep, and, as much fun as they’d had, Christian knew it was time to go. Salem was what he wasn’t—classy, successful, handsome, together—and Christian was an embarrassment.

  He pulled on his clothes before he went to grab his phone. He would text Salem in the morning, tell the man that it had been so great, but he wasn’t a mooch. He was a loser, not a piece of shit.

  His phone was in the bedroom, and on the far side of the bed at that, and he had to tiptoe over to it, freezing every time Salem made a noise.

  He almost made it too.

  “Chrissy?”

  “Shh. You’re okay. Go back to sleep.” Don’t make this hard.

  Salem grunted. Then he felt around the bed and then popped up, sitting up straight. “Chrissy?”

  “Chill. Chill, babe. I have to go. You know I do. I don’t—” Deserve this. “—belong here.”

  “You’re trying to leave?” Was that an actual growl? “You were going to sneak out in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye?”

  “I just…I was going to text. I have to—I don’t know… It would be too hard to leave…” He was going to cry.

  “Don’t you think if the only way you can manage to leave is if you sneak out in the middle of the night, then maybe you shouldn’t do it?” Salem grunted and cleared his throat and the covers made noise. “Come back to bed.”

  “I’m a loser, honey. I don’t have anything to offer you.” He wanted to. He wanted Salem to hold him.

  “Would you stop talking about yourself like that and get the fuck back in bed? The middle of the night is not the time to have this discussion.” Salem sounded grumpy.

  “Bossy.” He stripped off his jeans and T-shirt and crawled in wearing his socks and briefs.

  Salem snuggled up to him, then backed off again. “Take it all off. Half-dressed means you’re just going to wait for me to fall asleep before trying again. Naked means you’re committed to staying until morning when we can talk about this like c
ivilized human beings.”

  “God, you’re so picky.” He stripped off, though, didn’t he? Then he pushed into Salem’s arms, cuddling right in.

  Salem wrapped around him and fuck that felt so good. He sighed and let himself relax. Breathe.

  “Isn’t this better?” Salem asked, nuzzling him.

  “Yeah. I just…I don’t want to be…your fuckup too.”

  “I’ve missed you. I was glad you showed up and I want you to stay, okay?”

  “I know.” But he couldn’t. He had nothing to offer.

  “So tell me you’ll stay. I don’t want to have to tie you down to make sure you do.” Salem paused for a moment before adding, “But I will.”

  “Ha-ha. I’ll stay the night.”

  “It’s funny that you think I’m kidding.”

  Right, because he seemed like the tie-me-up sort. “Go to sleep, man.”

  “You too. Get some rest. Heal.”

  Heal. He wasn’t broken. Was he?

  “I can feel you thinking, your mind going a thousand miles an hour.”

  “I’m not sure my mind works that well, man.” He nuzzled in.

  Salem chuckled, one hand drifting down his back, leaving tingles all along his spine.

  “Oh…” Christian let himself melt into his friend, lover, whatever.

  “Mmm. There you go.” Salem found the small of his back, concentrating his rubbing there.

  Christian let a sobbing breath go, releasing tension he didn’t know he had.

  Over and over, Salem stroked circles there, the sensation almost dizzying. He melted, deeper and deeper, sunk into the sheets.

  “See how good I can make you feel, Chrissy?”

  “That’s never been in question. Never.”

  “Then you should stay and let me make you feel good.”

  Like it was that easy.

  “I can’t. I’m not good enough, okay?” And he knew Salem deserved so much better.

  “Stop that bullshit right now.”

  “Aren’t we sleeping?” he shot back.

  “We are. But you don’t need to put yourself down. You’re worthy of where you are.” Salem’s arms stayed wrapped around him as he spoke.

  “I wish.” He sighed. “Night, you.”