by Matthew Lang
“Are we actually eating?” David asked, his voice strangely calm as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his wallet and keys into the carved dragon-bowl that he’d bought at a pop-up artist market along the St Kilda Promenade. It sat on the small bench in what he liked to think of as his foyer area, its carved wooden head rising above the coils of a long, snakelike body that formed the bowl proper.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming back early,” Patrick said.
“You sounded pretty sure in your texts.”
The microwave dinged, and Patrick pulled out some floreted cauliflower. “I’m good at bravado,” he said with a smile that vanished just a smidgen too quickly.
“Patrick… Patrick, stop.” David stepped around the island and grabbed Patrick’s arm.
“Yes, sir!” Patrick said with a grin, sliding the bowl of Brassica pieces onto the bench and turning to face him.
David looked up into Patrick’s smiling eyes. Patrick looked relaxed, his arms dangling loosely by his side and an easy grin on his face. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something in the corners where crow’s feet were just starting to show that gave David pause.
“Patrick, you know I can tell when you’re putting a brave face on things.”
“And?”
“What do you want out of this? You and me. You weren’t really asking for a one-time experiment, were you?”
Patrick closed his eyes. “I thought….” He swallowed hard. “I thought it’d either start something or finish it. I said I’d still love you in the morning but, Dave, I really do. I love your smile. I love the way you smell. I love that you always try to make my life easier even if you cock it up sometimes. I love that you always think of what’s best for me, even if I wish you’d talk to me about it first. I love the way you succeed. I love the way you work hard and get places, the way you just keep going even when you hit setbacks. I’ve always loved you. I just….”
The distant rumble of traffic and the hum of the oven were the only sounds in the apartment that David could hear aside from the thumping of his heart, and he could swear the prickling of his pores should have made some sort of noise.
Patrick opened his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m in love with you. And I’m terrified it’s just me who feels that.”
“Patrick, I do love you.”
“But….”
David reached out and gently took Patrick’s hands in his own. “But you were ready to propose to Li Ling. Are you sure this isn’t a rebound?”
“To quote my best friend when he broke up with the hairdresser: What if it is? Would that make it any less real?”
“I could easily fall in love with you,” David said. “Assuming I haven’t already, that is.”
This time Patrick did pull a face, and David found himself on the receiving end of a familiar glare. “So why is there a ‘but’ hovering on the end of that sentence?”
“Because I’m scared that I’ll fuck it up,” David said, dropping Patrick’s hands and stepping back to lean up against the cool metal of his fridge. “I overthink things. I try to make decisions for everyone else in my life, and I’ve just been told by a very reliable source that I’m essentially a control freak and that sort of makes me suck at relationships.”
“Wait, I never said any of that.”
“It… wasn’t you.”
“Okay, so, who else could have worked that one out…. You talked to Li Ling about us?”
“No!”
“Then who else worked that out about you? And how hard can I punch them?”
“I thought you agreed with him?”
“I do, but that’s not the point. I’m the only one who gets to insult you like that. Wait, him?”
David sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “I… hooked up with someone in Sydney. I thought it was…. I was trying to get you out of my head.”
“You really thought I’d go running back to Li Ling? Just because of her pregnancy?”
“Yes, all right? I did. I figured you were better off with her, being a dad, than you were with me. I thought that was what you wanted, so I made a decision to take myself out of the picture and let you sort that out. I figured I’d get you out of my system and come back so we could pretend like nothing happened and get on with things. Like I said. I’m a control freak and an idiot.”
Patrick walked closer, his jaw clenched and his eyes a mixture of angry and sad. He stopped when he was only a centimetre or two away, and David had to look up to see his face. “Did it work?”
“Did what work?”
“Am I out of your system?”
David could feel Patrick’s body heat and he wanted nothing more than to press forward into that warmth. “I thought you were until yesterday.”
“Yes or no?”
“That’s a no,” David said.
“Do you want me to be?”
Now it was David’s turn to swallow. “No,” he said, and he looked up into Patrick’s eyes, holding his gaze. “I really don’t.”
“What’s his name?”
“George. He works in IT and is a self-proclaimed armchair psychologist. And no, you can’t punch him.”
“Is he head over heels in love with you and moving to Melbourne?” Patrick glowered down at him. Or at least, made a good attempt at glowering down at him. David smirked and went for the spot halfway down Patrick’s ribcage. Patrick dissolved into giggles with a squeal that was several octaves higher than his regular speaking voice.
“No, apparently I was a rebound for him, and he’s not moving to Melbourne to seek me out.” David pressed his advantage and backed Patrick up against the kitchen island, his fingers digging into Patrick’s naked flesh. When Patrick slumped to the floor, David followed him down and straddled his fallen body. “And I am sorry for not discussing me running away with you, but I really didn’t think there was anything to discuss.”
He should have known better. He really should have. In his defence, he was apologising for a fuck-up of royal proportions, but his momentary distraction was all Patrick needed to grab both of his wrists in a vice-like grip. Patrick looked up at him, face red, chest heaving, and a giant smile on his face. “Okay, okay, apology accepted. Just don’t do it again.”
“I probably will without meaning to,” David said. “But I’ll try not to, and if I do, you’ll remind me, right?”
Patrick smiled. “You bet your ass I will. Now you’d better tell me what Georgy boy did to you. All of it, and in detail.”
“Well, he kept me in a love cocoon made out of his hair for one—”
“What?”
David smirked. “He had hair down to his waist. It felt a bit like that when it draped over us.”
“Well so much for—”
David leaned in and cut off Patrick with a kiss. “We kissed for ages. Up against the wall, with his tongue exploring my—”
Patrick leaned forward and stopped him with a kiss, using his hands to pull David closer and deepen it. Patrick tasted vaguely of mint, not the chemical mint of toothpaste, but the slightly green taste of fresh peppermint sprigs. Patrick growled deep inside his chest and rolled them over so David was flat on his back, a warm hand still cupping the back of his head and preventing it from hitting the tiles of the kitchen floor. Patrick pushed his tongue back into David’s mouth, and his knee came up firmly between David’s legs, and up against his still confined balls. David felt his cock stiffen in response as Patrick pulled his head back. “And then what?”
“I went for his nipples,” David said with a grin. “He had very sensitive nipples.” He reached forward, but his hands were very gently intercepted, and Patrick pressed them above his head.
“Have I ever told you how much I like your white shirts?” Patrick asked as he leaned down, his free hand running over David’s chest.
“No, why?”
“Because they’re so fucking sexy on you.” Patrick slipped two fingers between the pearlescent buttons of David’s shir
t to find his skin. One button popped at the strain, and Patrick used that opportunity to slide all four fingers beneath the fabric to touch David’s chest. “They’re thin enough that in the right light, I look at them and I can just see the darkness of your nipples.” David shuddered as Patrick’s fingers sought out the very tip of his left nipple, brushing ever so gently over it before retreating, only to repeat the process. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like in a totally wet shirt.”
“You’ve seen me in a wet shirt,” David protested between gasps as he arched up against Patrick’s touch, his wrists tugging against Patrick’s strong grip.
Patrick’s head came to rest on David’s chest, and he both heard and felt Patrick taking a deep breath. “I know. You have no idea how hard it was to get that image out of my head. I must have jacked off to it for at least a week.”
“A week?”
Patrick tugged at David’s shirt, causing another button to pop open. Pulling the fabric aside, Patrick dropped a tender kiss onto David’s sternum. “At least. Maybe longer. I….”
“What?”
“Apparently I was a tiger in bed that night,” Patrick said with a chuckle.
“Okay, I didn’t need that mental image.”
Patrick undid all the buttons up to his throat, and then he went for David’s nipple with his mouth, hot and wet and with teeth that nipped but didn’t latch on. “Imagine it from the back,” Patrick said. “Bedsheets tangled around my legs, bunched around my ass. You can see the muscles in my back tensing and moving as I lean forward. You’re not sure if you can see between my asscheeks, but if you can, you know you’ve been there.”
“Oh God.”
“I thought you were an atheist?”
“Not when my boyfriend is talking dirty to me.”
Patrick paused. “You said the b word first.”
“You going to correct me?”
The kiss was warm and soulful, and Patrick’s hand was warm where it covered his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The last few buttons released as Patrick tugged the hem of his shirt out from the waistband of his pants. “What else did he do to you?”
“Kissed his way up my neck and started sucking on that part where my neck meets my jawline.”
“Mmm, I like that part of you,” Patrick said as his mouth followed the column of David’s neck up towards his earlobe. “I’m surprised you didn’t come away with a hickey.”
“I told him not to.”
“Good thing I’m not him.”
David gasped as Patrick’s teeth gently gripped his flesh, and he felt the tug of suction on his skin. “Pat!”
“What?” Patrick asked. “You’re not going to tell me to stop, are you?”
“No, you’re just crushing my balls,” David said, squirming away from Patrick’s knee.
“Oh, sorry.” Patrick moved and then stared down at him, eyes darkening, chest heaving, and lips parted and slightly swollen. A very obvious something was pressing out the front of the apron, and David felt the charge of emotion and lust thicken the air between them. “Bed?”
“Bed,” David agreed, and was promptly scooped up and carried through his apartment to his bedroom, where he was placed carefully down on the quilt and helped out of his shirt before Patrick stepped back and the apron fell away, revealing Patrick’s taut abdomen. The top of Patrick’s jeans were already open and his fly undone, and the bulge in his red underwear was tipped with a dark wet stain.
“Patrick?”
“Yes?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter 13
PATRICK SWALLOWED, and his hands clenched into fists, eyes closing as he visibly trembled. When he opened his eyes, his expression was strained.
“What’s wrong?” David asked.
Patrick crawled up the other side of the bed and lay down beside him, leaning over to kiss David’s cheek. “I never knew how much I wanted to hear you say that until you did.”
David turned to face him and pulled him in for a deep kiss. “I meant it. And I don’t need you to do everything he did better or again. I just need you.”
“But I liked hearing descriptions,” Patrick said wickedly. “Do you have any idea how hard you used to make me when you told me of your sexcapades with your exes?”
“I never gave you detail!”
“I know. But I wanted it. I imagined it.”
David leant over so his lips were level with Patrick’s ear. “Why don’t we just have our own?”
Patrick growled low in his throat, and the sound reverberated through David’s body and settled somewhere behind his cock. He ran his hands down Patrick’s back and tugged at the waistband of his pants. “Let’s lose the clothes, shall we?”
Patrick bounced off the bed and dropped both his pants and briefs in one smooth motion. Getting them off his feet was a little trickier, but he was still ahead of David, who had to contend with a belt and the clinginess of the light wool suit pants. Eventually Patrick came over and helped him free his legs, and then peeled him out of the socks.
“I don’t like socks,” Patrick confessed as he half crawled, half slid his way up David’s body, the smattering of fine blond hairs on his body making David shudder as they brushed over his hypersensitive skin. “I like seeing your skin. All of it. All the long lines running all over your body unbroken by clothing.”
“Since when did you take up poetry as a sideline?”
Patrick’s hard cock pressed up against his own, and Patrick ducked his head, eyes hidden behind long lashes as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss into the hollow of David’s neck. “Since I turned out to be good at high school English.”
“And yet you use… text speak,” David gasped as the kiss turned into a series of kisses across his torso. Patrick rubbed gently over his muscles, almost as if he were giving a massage, and then clamped his fingers down on his right nipple, expertly tweaking and teasing before stopping just as David thought he couldn’t take any more. He then kept his fingers hovering just where David could feel them flexing above his skin but not coming down into full contact. He flinched at every flex of Patrick’s fingers, whether they made contact with him or not, and he could feel the precum pooling in his belly button. Then Patrick’s teeth pressed together suddenly, drawing his attention back to his right side and eliciting a squeak from his mouth.
He felt Patrick grin, and then the kisses headed lower and lower until they encountered his belly button. “What’s this?”
“What do you think?”
Patrick’s tongue gently teased the head of his cock, lapping up the precum there, and then Patrick was kissing him, and David could taste himself on Patrick’s lips. “Yum,” Patrick said. Reaching down, he pressed a finger into David’s belly button, digging out the slippery liquid before moving farther down his body, past his throbbing cock, underneath his balls, and finally slipping to the opening between his cheeks.
“Fuck, are you…? You’re using… to….”
Patrick grinned against his lips. “Mmm.”
David whimpered, one hand clutching the back of Patrick’s neck and the other clenching a fistful of bedsheets as a finger slipped inside him, his ass opening surprisingly easily at Patrick’s touch.
“Fuck you feel tight, Dave,” Patrick whispered.
“Middle drawer on the right,” David groaned as Patrick slipped in up to his second knuckle.
“What?”
“Lube. Condoms. Middle drawer.”
Patrick chuckled. “Forward planning?”
David groaned again and reached down to pull his knees back as Patrick reached out with his free arm and tugged the drawer open, rummaging around inside without breaking their kiss. He heard the thunk of plastic against wood and the telltale crinkle of foil, and then Patrick was back, and kissing his way back down to David’s cock, which slipped easily into his mouth. The finger inside him withdrew, and after a brief moment was back, now covered in cool, slippery g
el that helped it slip in to the third knuckle almost immediately. Then a second digit nudged at his ass, and he exhaled as he tried to relax—a task made rather difficult by the ministrations of Patrick’s talented tongue, which was being used to tease the spot just underneath his cockhead with ass-clenching efficiency. Patrick must have realised that too, as he let David’s cock leave his mouth with an audible pop, and his warm tongue was making tantalizingly slow progress along the crease where David’s left leg met his groin. As David shuddered, a second finger made its way in, and David groaned when Patrick’s questing fingertips found his prostate. His cock jerked and drooled onto his belly, and he grabbed Patrick’s other hand when his boyfriend would have gone to stroke him.
“Don’t, Pat, you’ll… just…. Oh fuck.”
“Do you need me to stop?” Patrick stilled his fingers.
“Just here,” David said, squeezing the hand that had been headed for his penis. “I don’t want to cum until you’re in me.”
Patrick’s head hit David’s thigh as he groaned. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be for me to last once I do get inside you? I feel like I could cum just from this.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell,” David said with a chuckle that became a gasp when Patrick withdrew his fingers and nudged very gently forward with three.
“You’re not as tight as I thought you’d be,” Patrick said, as he started making rocking motions with his fingers.
“If you’re turned on enough and aahh… frick!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Patrick said with a chuckle as he gently stroked David’s chest with his free hand, and David fancied he could feel the slight stickiness of precum on Patrick’s fingers.
