by Gwen Martin
“You mean he’ll hate it,” Marco countered with a laugh.
“Nah, I’ll make it up to him.”
“Oh?” Marco asked, affecting interest. “And how might you do that?”
“He loves Mischief. Show him some cute kitty photos, and he’s like putty in my hands.”
This time Marco laughed loudly. “Don’t ever change, Double H, don’t ever change.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now tell me, do you want the Funky Buddha Floridian or this Pop’s Porter from this brewery in Wynwood he snagged earlier today?”
Marco opted for the Pop’s Porter. They ordered wings and pizza from a local place from a stack of menus that came with the rental and watched a Netflix show about a drag queen who owned a dance studio in Texas.
By the end of the night, when Marco settled into bed, he had a plan.
The morning light glared through the thin curtains, and Marco bolted upright with a start. His vision was blurry, and a cold rush of anxiety coursed through him when he found that he was by himself in the bed. Had Kieran not slept in the bedroom?
Marco shifted to get a better look, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The blanket on Kieran’s side of the bed was folded down, and the indent of the pillow showed that it had been used. Marco gusted out a sigh of relief. He still was able to sleep in the bed with him. Marco considered that a good sign.
The shower felt lonely without Kieran, the space too big. Marco focused on getting in and out as quickly as possible, the memories of Kieran’s sleep-happy face dipping under the rush of water over-bright in Marco’s mind.
It appeared that Marco was the last to wake up, which surprised him. Everyone was already milling around the kitchen and living room, sprawled about and chatting animatedly.
Like a sixth sense, Marco’s eyes zoomed in on Kieran immediately. He sat in a chair next to the sofa, wearing a short-sleeved button-down black shirt smattered with tiny white dots. Seemingly taking a page out of Carter’s book, Kieran left half of the shirt unbuttoned to reveal his smooth tanned skin. Pale creamy shorts sat snug against his thighs, which only accentuated them when Kieran put his ankle over his knee. His hair was tousled, and a pair of sunglasses sat on the top of his head.
Marco’s chest ached at the sight, and he wanted to walk over and cup Kieran’s face into his hands and whisper all the apologies he could for fucking this up and kiss him stupid. But instead, he walked over to the coffee maker and began to pour himself a cup.
“Well, you slept in long enough,” Eli murmured, handing over a plate of food. It was filled with an omelet covered in black beans, verde sauce, and a creamy cheese sauce. Rye toast sat off to the side, cut into perfect triangles, slathered in butter. “I saved you a plate. Now eat because the guys are ready.”
Settling down at the kitchen bar, Marco sliced up his omelet and took a bite. He tilted his head back and groaned, closing his eyes in bliss. “Eli, you’re a fucking genius.”
A sheepish smile slipped onto Eli’s lips. “Thanks, man.”
“Dude, tell him that he needs to open up a diner or some shit,” Carter called from the living room. He was stretched out on the sofa, his back against the arm, feet in Devon’s lap. Devon didn’t seem to mind, but Marco couldn’t really see his face from where he was sitting.
Eli rolled his eyes. “He’s like a Labrador when he gets an idea in his head, I swear to God. Just cannot drop the subject.”
“He does have a point though,” Devon said. “Those omelets were bomb, bro.”
“This is really good,” Marco agreed, taking another huge bite. “What are you guys planning today?”
“Carter has some kind of brewery crawl planned,” Kieran said, making his way into the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee. He didn’t sound very impressed by the idea.
When he turned and leaned against the counter, slender hands holding his mug, his expression was unreadable. Marco was desperate to know what he was thinking and feeling about him, and whether he had a shot at making things right between them. But he couldn’t get a good read on him.
“It’s going to be great, guys,” Carter promised with a level of excitement that rivaled a child who was told they got tickets to go to Disney. “C’mon, Dev, tell them it’s going to be great.”
“It’ll be great,” Devon said flatly. He was focused on something on his phone, barely paying any attention to the exchange. Then he snorted a laugh and leaned over to Carter, showing him what was on his screen.
Carter began cracking up and yelled, “Eli, dude, come here. You have to see this shit.”
“I have been summoned,” Eli muttered to himself, sauntering over to the other guys.
Marco gave Kieran a quick glance before turning back to his food. He could see Kieran drawing closer in his peripheral, and he clenched his hand around his fork tighter, heart quickening with a mixture of fear and hope.
“We’re not going with them,” Kieran said quietly. Marco’s head snapped up, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Kieran shook his head a little. His eyes traveled to the living room, where their three friends were still chatting before they met Marco’s. “We have to talk. Also, Eli knows.”
“Oh,” Marco said, gazing down. He moved the rest of his omelet to the corner of his plate. “Carter does, too.”
Kieran chuckled, but it contained no humor. Marco’s chest tightened. “Poor Devon. Always out of the loop.”
“I didn’t—” Kieran’s fingertip pressed against Marco’s lips, silencing him. His eyes crinkled, a small smirk hanging on the corners of his mouth.
“There’s this Cuban bakery we can go to. I promised Carter I’d go for him. He loves those guava ones.”
“Pastelitos,” Marco whispered. He didn’t think he could speak any louder.
“Yeah, those.” Kieran nodded to Marco’s plate. “So, eat up. Cuban coffee is no joke.”
Marco picked up a piece of toast and took a big bite, clinging onto that little beacon of hope that kept flickering in his heart.
By the time the guys left, and Kieran and Marco were on their way to the Cuban bakery, Marco was sweating bullets. Kieran put his phone up, and Snoop’s voice crooned out of his phone. Marco couldn’t help but laugh.
“Did Carter get to you, too?”
A faint blush settled high onto Kieran’s cheeks as he shook his head. “No, this was one hundred percent by choice.”
“Ah, Snoop rubbin’ off on you?” Marco asked casually.
Kieran spared him a quick, sideways glance. “Not exactly.”
Turn left in two hundred yards, then turn left. That’s good, real gangsta.
“I’m not entirely sure how Double H managed to influence our lives so much that we find comfort in good old Snoop Dogg for navigation.”
“He didn’t. I did it because it reminded me of you.”
Marco licked his dry lips. “Oh.”
They parked in front of a bakery that had signs up mostly in Spanish and a line that was going out the door. Marco didn’t want to stand in line under the hot Miami afternoon. Before Kieran could exit out of the car,, Marco grabbed his wrist.
“Wait, I want to say some things and I’m not really in the mood for an audience.”
Kieran’s wrist relaxed, and Marco removed his hand. He chewed his bottom lip and closed his eyes, hoping to get the words right without sounding like an utter idiot.
Go with the easy part. Work your way in.
“I’m sorry,” Marco said quietly. “I basically let you think I didn’t believe in us because we live in two different cities. You didn’t want to tell the guys about us, and I kept thinking that meant you weren’t serious about this, but in reality, it wasn’t the distance that was the problem. It was because…”
The words crowded Marco’s throat, making it hard to speak. He didn’t know if he had it in him to say the truth out loud. He didn’t know if he could whisper those three words that blossomed inside of him that night.
“Because?” Kieran repeat
ed quietly.
“Because, well—” Marco stopped and stared out into the crowd in front of them, standing in line on a hot afternoon. None of them knew what Marco wanted to say, and yet somehow, this moment was one of the biggest moments of Marco’s adult life, and it felt surreal. He inhaled a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Because I’m totally, irrevocably, ridiculously in love with you. And I always have been. All those years that we flirted with each other, I thought it was just for fun, but it turns out, surprise! I’m in love with you. And when I figured that out, well, I fucking panicked because I’ve never felt like that about anyone in my entire life.”
“Marco,” Kieran whispered. “I—”
“I mean, I tried dating people, even tried that relationship for a few months, which if you recall was disastrous, and the whole time, it was like I kept wishing it was you.” Somehow with every word, it became easier to say the next, and Marco pushed on, not knowing how to stop himself now that he was on a roll. “So, the panic came from the idea of what if it all failed because of distance, and what if it failed because you grew tired of me or something, I don’t know and—”
“Hey, Marco?” Kieran interrupted. His hand was now on Marco’s arm, squeezing tight. “Marco, look at me.” Marco opened his eyes again, the warmth of the car overpowering despite the air con being on full blast. Then Kieran leaned over the center console, cupped Marco’s face, and kissed him. It was chaste and subtle, and also the most exhilarating kiss Marco had ever had.
“I feel the same.”
“What?” Marco whispered, the words thick in his mouth.
Kieran chuckled, his warm breath drifting over Marco’s lips. “I said,” he whispered back, leaning in closer, “I feel the same.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Marco murmured, his hand carding through Kieran’s hair and pulling him closer.
Their mouths pressed together, soft and sweet at first, quickly growing more intense. Kieran moaned low in the back of his throat when Marco nibbled on his bottom lip, before slipping a tongue inside of his hot mouth. The heady rush of kissing Kieran was familiar and new all at once with the knowledge that Kieran was in love with him too.
They broke apart, panting and breathless, their foreheads pressed together. Marco’s fingers trailed through Kieran’s hair, down to the nape of his neck, splaying his hand over the warmth of skin.
“I’m really sorry,” Marco repeated, his voice sounding raspy and raw.
“Shh,” Kieran whispered. “I’m sorry too.”
Marco pulled back, his eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”
Kieran’s smile was sad. “I definitely made it seem like I didn’t want the guys to know we were hooking up, and that wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to deal with them giving us shit all weekend. I should’ve explained myself better.”
“Oh,” Marco said, biting his bottom lip. “Well, they know now, right?”
“Yeah, they do. Eli and Carter are probably telling Devon right now, and Devon is probably flipping out over being the last to know.”
Marco chuckled, and then a wave of desire rushed through him at the thought of having the house alone. “How long are they going to be gone, by the way?”
The heated look in Kieran’s eyes was naked and real. “All.” He kissed Marco, more teeth than lips. “Afternoon.”
“Fuck,” Marco murmured, leaning in for more. Kieran pulled back.
“That’s the plan. But we have to get those damn pastries first.”
Marco rushed out of the car, making his way toward the line. Kieran’s laugh echoed behind him.
Marco’s mind was buzzing. Waiting in the Cuban bakery felt like it took a millenia, especially with Kieran’s mouth whispering filthy promises into his ear. He could hardly concentrate when it was their turn at the counter.
Now, back at the house—which was blessedly empty—and in the master bedroom that had become one of Marco’s favorite places, Kieran was standing in front of him, slowly undressing with practiced ease. It made Marco’s heart soar and his dick hard.
He wanted to touch Kieran, and when he tried to take a step forward, Kieran moved back in time and shook his head. The sly grin that curled at the corner of his mouth made Marco want to kiss him senseless.
“Just enjoy this,” Kieran said, tossing his shirt into the corner. He began to unbutton his shorts, slowly pulling the zipper of the bulge in the front. Marco’s mouth watered. “There’s a whole lot more coming after this.”
“God.”
Kieran huffed a husky laugh. “Not quite, but I’ll take it.” He gently trailed his fingertips over his collarbone and down his sternum, over the sparse hair under his belly button. His breath hitched when he pushed his palm inside of his pants, eyes heavy-lidded and breath ragged.
Fuck, Kieran was beautiful. Marco watched as he palmed his cock inside of those shorts, those traitorous shorts that were hiding everything that Marco wanted to see. He let out a groan of frustration and that got a genuine laugh out of Kieran, who shook his head.
“Impatient much?”
Marco wetted his bottom lip. Impatient? Kieran didn’t even know. Marco’s T-shirt was discarded in a flash, his shorts and boxers next. He grabbed at the base of his cock and slid his fingers up until they enclosed around the leaking head and squeezed.
“I have no problem with watching,” Marco said. “You can watch too, if you want.”
Kieran was panting hard now. His eyes roved over Marco’s naked body. Everything about that look unraveled Marco inside, pouring all his love for Kieran out. That look was like the stars, the moon, the whole fucking universe captured and rolled into one. And it wasn’t for anyone else but him.
“C’mere,” Marco whispered.
Kieran’s skin felt soft as always, and his mouth was eager. Marco cupped Kieran’s face, sliding his fingers over sharp jawbone and scratchy stubble. He ran the tip of his tongue over the seam of Kieran’s lips, coaxing his mouth open with a gasp before pushing further inside.
Marco didn’t rush. Instead, he took his time, kissing over Kieran’s cheekbone, and up to his temple, and back down to bite at the connection between neck and shoulder. Kieran’s hips jerked forward reflexively, and he gripped harder on Marco’s hair. Marco couldn’t help but smile.
He continued to lick over Kieran’s collarbone, swirl his tongue over his nipple, blowing on it until it pebbled. Marco’s hands explored too, over Kieran’s flanks, and down to his hips, around his ass. Kieran wouldn’t be able to stand up much longer.
“Get on the bed,” Marco murmured into Kieran’s ear, nipping at the lobe. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” Kieran said easily, pulling Marco with him as he fell down onto the mattress. “I want you to fuck me.”
Marco snapped back, his eyes wide. He’d figured they’d do some of the things they had explored with each other before—oral, hand jobs, frotting—but he wasn’t expecting to hear that.
Uncertainty settled over Kieran’s face. “Is—is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Marco said automatically, rubbing his hand over Kieran’s shoulder. He felt gooseflesh rise on Kieran’s skin. “Just…unexpected, is all.”
Kieran grinned, looking like a cat who got the cream. “Supplies are in my bag.”
Marco chuckled. “You got supplies?”
Kieran shrugged, affecting a noncommittal appearance. “Carter did for me. Well, rather, he kind of gave it to me out of nowhere and winked.”
“I...have a lot to say about that, but I’m not going to do it while I have you naked under me.”
“Thank you, I truly appreciate that,” Kieran said, gasping when Marco scooted down and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. When Marco pulled off, a whine escaped from the back of his throat. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I have other ideas for you. C’mon, flip over.”
Kieran grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his hips, keeping his ass on display. Marco’s hands conti
nued to roam over the tanned skin of his back, spreading kisses over the tan line between Kieran’s lower back and ass. Kieran shuddered a sigh when Marco spread him open and blew over his hole.
He loved the way Kieran sounded under his touch. He wanted to commit every inch of Kieran's body to memory and keep it forever. He wanted to be the one that Kieran thought about when he was back in Chicago, alone in his room at night. Marco knew Kieran would be in his dreams.
“Oh fuck,” Kieran hissed, canting his hips up. “Are you—”
“Not today,” Marco said, pulling back and going to Kieran’s bag. “But it’s definitely something I’m into.”
“I will remember that for next time,” Kieran murmured, adjusting himself until he was on his hands and knees. Marco watched him in that position, the way his balls hung between his thighs, how taut those toned arms were as he held himself up. He looked incredible and perfect. Marco told him that.
Kieran ducked his head and chuckled sheepishly. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m a sure thing.”
Marco flicked open the lube, tossing a condom onto the bed. He poured a liberal amount onto his fingers, before replying, “It’s the truth and I mean it. Now the polite thing to do…” Marco circled a finger around Kieran’s entrance, pressing a finger inside and crooking it up before pushing further in. “Would be to say thank you.”
“Oh, oh God,” Kieran moaned.
“Not quite, but I’ll take it,” Marco shot back with smug amusement as he added a second finger. Kireran began to moan louder, at first in short and sharp bursts and eventually evolving into long, low pleas. His back muscles were rigid and his arms quivering, hips pushing back into Marco’s fingers with urgency.
“Please, please, please,” Kieran panted, hands fisting up the sheets underneath him.
Marco couldn’t say no to that. He got the condom on quicker than he expected, especially since his own hands were shaking a little, and when he lined himself up, Kieran groaned at the sensation. Marco gripped Kieran’s shoulder with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other, carefully pushing against the tight ring of muscle.
