by Amy Lane
Joel groaned and pulled Ian closer, tangling his fingers in that halo of blond hair just like he’d imagined doing, pulling Ian on top of him, loving his friend’s weight, pinning him to the couch.
Ian moved his kisses to Joel’s neck, and Joel’s head fell back as he made an “ahh ahh” sound, and then that mouth, eager, questing, fascinated by the texture of Joel’s skin, continued on. With some shifting Joel found he was bare-chested, and Ian’s big hands were spanning his chest, rubbing his nipples, stroking the tender flesh of his abdomen.
Ian paused for a minute then and peered into Joel’s face owlishly. “Mate, uhm, just how long have you swung this way?”
Joel’s smile was a little embarrassed. “Probably forever,” he muttered, thinking about his sister’s astute assessment of his love life. “But I’ve only really known since I jerked off in my old bed, dreaming of you,” he finished. Ian grinned and then looked thoughtful. “Why?”
“Because now I know what you’ve done and what you haven’t, and what I’m going to do next.”
“Ian, you don’t even know how you’re going to get to work.”
Ian shook his head. “This is different, mate. I’ve been dreaming of this for months. I’ll be damned if I bollix it up now.”
And then, as though he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head to Joel’s chest and opened his mouth over a tanned nipple and suckled, and Joel arched against him, hard and needy.
“Oh God, Ian, Ian?” Because Ian kept kissing down to Joel’s tender stomach. He kept kissing while Joel arched his hips to give better access to pull down the gray sweats, and then he kissed down the trail of black fur from Joel’s navel to his— “Oh God… Ian!”
Ian was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. With an open mouth, he engulfed Joel’s cock and pushed his lips all the way down until they touched the dark, curly hair at the root, and he stayed there for a moment, swallowing to make it fit.
Joel’s fingers stayed tangled in that surprisingly soft hair, and he moaned in the back of his throat and tried not to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure. Ian pulled back up his shaft, sucking as he went and swirling his tongue around the broad, purpling head. Joel thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of his skull, and then he thought he was going to scream, and maybe die, and love every minute of it.
“Mmmmm… God… oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…” and then he didn’t have anything to say at all, because he was coming, spurting into the back of Ian’s mouth, and Ian was still swallowing, letting just enough hot spend dribble out of his mouth to make Joel’s prick sloppy and slick and sexy.
Joel’s head flopped limply on the back of the couch, and Ian pulled himself up and peered down with as smug expression as Joel had ever seen.
“You’re looking pretty damned proud of yourself, you know that?” Joel chuckled, stroking the hair back from Ian’s temple.
“It’s a limited skill set for a bloke,” Ian said with dignity, and Joel laughed.
“Well, you’re a master of it, pappi. If I didn’t love you already, I’d stay with you for the blow jobs alone.”
Ian’s eyes grew anxious, and Joel cupped his face, glad that he could. Ian looked anxious far too often. Joel’s new job was going to be to erase that pinched look from his eyes as often as possible.
“You do love me? Really?”
Joel lifted up and kissed him, tasting his own spend and not caring. “Yeah, Ee. I do.”
“I think you could be the only person ever to love me. And I love you back.” Ian kissed him again, deeper, stronger, and Joel lost himself in the kiss, in the knowledge that Ian needed him—not to keep his house or buy his food or set his schedule, but just to love him. Maybe it was all Ian had ever wanted.
It had been a long day, and they went to bed shortly after that. Joel lay in Ian’s arms and kissed him again, and again, and harder, until Ian pulled back and said, “No. We’re not doing that tonight.”
“We’re not?” Joel asked, a little amused and a lot tired.
“It needs to be good. I want to be awake, and I need to know you’ll be here in the morning.”
Joel might have been hurt at that, but then, so many people had failed Ian. Joel understood the impulse to make sure this was real before they took it all the way. He settled down in Ian’s bed, feeling strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and listening to a man’s breathing in the dark and smiled a little to himself.
It was real. And it would be there in the morning.
Chapter Five
Joel knew exactly where he was when he woke up in the morning. He knew Ian’s smell, he knew the feel of the arms around his shoulders, and he had a good guess as to what that thing was poking him in the ass-cheek.
He shivered and swallowed a little, and then he scuttled quickly out of bed.
“Where you going?” Ian asked sleepily.
“Gotta brush my teeth, Ee,” he muttered. “My breath smells like—”
“Monkey ass?” Ian supplied, pushing up on one arm, and Joel turned around and went in for quick peck on the lips before pulling back.
“That monkey, he gets around,” Joel quipped against Ian’s mouth. “I’ll be back in a sec,” and then he trotted off.
When he got back, Ian was scrambling back into bed, a little bit of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and Joel grinned.
“Ian, do you think people who’ve been married for a couple of years kiss with morning breath?”
Ian blinked. “I dunno. Maybe we’ll find out, you think?”
Joel moved in closer, so all he could see were those spring blue eyes. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” But then Ian kissed him, and Joel was suddenly in Ian-land: there was no future, there was only the now.
Ian took charge again. Joel had two brain cells, maybe, to be amused that Ian could be in charge in the bedroom when he couldn’t organize his own sock drawer—and then his sweats were down around his ankles again, and Ian’s mouth was on his cock.
“Ahhh… Christo, pappi, you good at that!” Joel groaned, and Ian grinned at him from his position at Joel’s groin. Then, very deliberately so Joel could see him, he stuck a finger in his mouth and pulled it out, slick with spit. He took that finger and traced it down the underside of Joel’s erection, down, between his darkly furred balls, to the ticklish space underneath. Joel knew where he was heading, and he gasped as Ian stroked his taint and gasped again when that finger teased his entrance, circled… tested… invaded….
Then Ian’s mouth was on him again, and Joel came so hard his vision blacked behind his eyes.
Ian chuckled around him, the vibrations getting him to being hard again, and then he swallowed and pulled back. “You keep coming like that, I’m not ever going to get to fuck you proper.”
Joel blushed and found he was stammering. “I… honestly, Ee… I don’t think it’ll fit.”
Ian laughed again, his mouth open, his slightly crooked teeth flashing in a clean smile, and then he moved sinuously against the bed. Joel realized that his new lover had gotten him off twice and not gotten off himself at all.
“You want to see it?” Ian asked ingenuously. “You get to know it for a bit, maybe it won’t be such a bugaboo, you think?”
Joel’s mouth went dry, and his cock, which was still wet and semi-hard in Ian’s hand, got a little harder. “I think,” he rasped.
Ian reached down one hand and wriggled right out of his briefs, and then he swung his hips up over the bed and crooked one leg up over Joel’s head. Joel found himself face-to-face with the most tender part of Ian’s body.
He swallowed. It was amazing. Tentatively he ran his palm from the curly blond hair at the base to the flared head the tip, and then he wrapped his hand more firmly around it and pumped.
Ian gasped, his breath tickling Joel’s own erection and making it just that much harder. “You can be a little rougher there, brother,” Ian breathed. “That thing won’t bite!”
Joel laughed and stuck out his tongue to taste Ian’
s pre-come. “Yeah, Ee, but it sure does drool!”
Ian sucked in a hard breath, and Joel tried his tongue again and licked that broad head firmly, and then under the crown, and then, fascinated by the way Ian’s body jumped and throbbed in his palm, he opened his mouth and engulfed the thing, stroking his hand down to the base and pushing his mouth to his hand. Ian groaned and pulled Joel into his mouth, and Joel sucked harder because, well, because, oh God, it just felt so good!
He focused for a minute, not wanting to come again, not before Ian, and began to pay attention to details. Like the way Ian grunted when Joel touched his blond, furry testicles. He took his other hand and massaged them. He heard Ian’s gasp when his lips brushed the sensitive little harp string on the underside of the purpling head, so Joel tried, very gingerly, to brush that with his teeth.
Ian pulled back then and started to beg. “Not yet, mate, want to be inside you.”
Joel made a negative sound in his throat. He didn’t want to give this up. He loved the taste and the power and the noises Ian made when Joel pleased him.
There Ian’s fingers joined Joel’s cock inside Ian’s mouth, getting them slick at the same time they slid around the sensitive head. Those wet, slick fingers slid down, to Joel’s backside, and then—
“Gaaaahhh! Ian!”
Ian’s reply was garbled, and then those fingers moved again and stretched, and Joel found his mouth was slack and open and Ian’s cock was bobbing lightly on his cheek as he tried not to blow his wad with his mind.
Ian took advantage of Joel’s complete submission, and in a moment Joel found he was on all fours and Ian, the bastard, was using his strength and his height to haul his ass in the air, and then, oh God, was that his tongue?
Joel whimpered into the sheets and concentrated on his breathing because it felt soooo good. “Jesus, Ian… it… wait… condoms….”
Ian was suddenly over his back, nibbling his neck and his ear, and Joel turned his head to meet his kiss, which was musky and spicy and not like monkey ass at all. Ian pulled away and murmured, “I got tested again this week. I’m clean. You?”
Joel had gotten tested after his last girlfriend, who had been a skank ho, and he might tell Ian that story later, but right now, “I’m clean,” he gasped.
Ian reached over his shoulder now and fumbled at the nightstand and came up with a little bottle. There was a click and then— “S’cold!” Joel shivered, and then Ian was using his two thumbs to stretch and pull and stretch some more, and Joel was dimly aware that he was gibbering into the sheets again.
“God, please, Jesus, Ian, fuck me!”
One of Ian’s arms came around Joel’s chest to pull him up, and Ian’s other hand disappeared. Joel was stretched again, and he whimpered in pleasure, and then Ian slid home, and Joel swore again. “Fuck me, Ian, oh God, please!”
“If… I… must….” And then his hips started pumping, and Joel lost all words, all coherent thought. Ian’s hand came around to his cock, and he damned near lost consciousness. He came, spattering up his stomach and on the sheets, and then Ian grabbed his hips and both hands and thrust and thrust and thrust.
“Gaaaaaaaawwwwd,” Ian swore, and his hips jerked against Joel’s even as Joel fell forward.
They stayed there for a moment, face down, Ian’s body still spasming. Joel thought he could probably stay there and feel Ian’s pleasure forever.
“Ian?” he murmured, and Ian grunted, “Am I crushing you?”
“I’m good, Ee.”
“You’re awesome, mate.”
Joel laughed, but not hard because he really couldn’t breathe that deep, and Ian put a long-fingered hand over Joel’s shorter, blunter one as it clenched the sheets.
“I really love you, you know?” Joel gasped, because, dammit, the guy was heavy.
Ian kissed the back of his neck, and his ear, and he shifted so he could kiss down Joel’s jawline. The shift pulled him out, and Joel closed his eyes and savored the feel of Ian’s spend trickling down the inside of his thigh.
“I love you too.”
Joel closed his eyes. “Good, pappi. That’s good.”
* * *
“So you got tested this week?” Joel asked later, when they were both dressed and in the kitchen. Joel had put Ian to work spreading the piecrusts in the tins, and he was fixing the pumpkin pie filling over the stove. He was planning on pecan, too, having gotten the recipe from his mom before he left, but he was a little nervous about that one because he’d never made it before.
“Yeah,” Ian muttered, and Joel gave him a glance and then laughed as Ian blushed.
“What?” Joel gave the filling a final stir and then moved up to wrap his arms around Ian’s waist and rub his cheek on his back. “No, you can’t get all embarrassed and not tell me!”
“I hoped,” Ian mumbled, paying scrupulous attention to ready-made piecrust. “I wasn’t sure, but, you were so close. I just hoped that maybe someday, and even if it didn’t happen you….”
“What?” Joel asked softly. He had to move in a minute to stir the pie filling again, and they had lots of work to do if they were going to have dinner ready the next day, but this was worth hearing.
Ian stopped and looked Joel in the eyes, smiling a little at their closeness. “You cared for me, Joel. Even if we were never lovers, you cared for me. It made it seem worthwhile, you know? To care for myself.” Ian grinned. “Now go stir that. You’re dying to, I can tell!”
“Oh, fine,” Joel murmured. “If I must.”
Chapter Six
Thanksgiving was a success.
They ate too much, and had leftovers for a week, but that was fine, because Ian had never had the full Thanksgiving works before, and he had become extremely fond of stuffing and gravy.
They made love a lot—but not every night. Some nights they just brushed their teeth and went to bed together. Joel started to wonder, in a very real way, if he’d ever be able to go to sleep again without knowing Ian was next to him, breathing in the dark.
They still talked over dinner and worked out on Monday/Wednesday/Fridays and watched every science fiction show on television. Supernatural was still their favorite, only now when they watched it, Ian confessed to a long-time crush on the shorter actor who played “Dean.” Joel wished he could have claimed a crush on the taller guy who played “Sam,” but really, “I’ve only got eyes for you right now, Ee. We can crush on other guys later.”
Ian flushed then, and Joel enjoyed watching that very much.
Joel told the story of his last girlfriend, Rachel, the “skank ho” who had slept with most of his dorm before breaking up with him.
“Everyone else had to get shots for chlamydia,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. “Brother, I was never so grateful for Sister Margaret in my life!”
Ian heard the story with wide eyes and the sudden shock of someone who realizes he’d had a near miss. “I never thought of that,” he confessed. “I- I guess I just wanted… a person there.”
“Someone to love,” Joel supplied, rubbing Ian’s calf as it rested on his lap. They were “handsy” lovers—the kind of people who didn’t do a lot of public kissing, but once they were alone, in their sanctuary, were always touching. Joel liked it like that; Ian close was good. Ian closer was wonderful.
And really, that was the wonder of becoming lovers. The good things didn’t change, they only got better. And the best things, like choosing a Christmas tree and buying decorations, well, those became amazing. Fun. Intense. Anything Joel could do to make Ian’s days different from each other, to make reality as compelling as the rabbit hole in Ian’s brain that he still disappeared down, well, that was Joel’s favorite thing.
Unfortunately, Joel didn’t realize that this meant the bad stuff got worse until he walked smack-dab into their first major fight.
Joel was early. At Ian’s request, he’d given up riding when it got dark early, and for once, driving actually got him home before his bike would have. As he opened the doo
r, he heard voices coming from Ian’s bedroom, and then the door opened, and Ian appeared—sans shirt—talking to the person inside.
Logically, Joel knew it was a client. Logically, Joel knew this was Ian being Ian, completely unaware of his surroundings, including the weather, which was cold enough to make his chest goose-pimple and his nipples pebble, even inside. Logically, Joel knew it was no big deal.
Emotionally, the glare he cast Ian’s way was enough to make his “roommate” trip over his own toes and fall down, right there in the hallway as his client came up behind him.
The distinguished, middle-aged woman was sleekly dressed in a pantsuit with pearls, and she smoothed some of her silver-tinted hair back from her face and smiled at the man sprawled at her feet.
“Ian, good Lord! I always knew you were eccentric. I had no idea you were clumsy!”
Ian started to pick himself up and cast Joel a wounded look. “Sorry, Professor Kohl. My roommate sort of took me by surprise.”
“Oh!” The professor’s eyes lit up, and she extended a hand towards Joel. “Mr. Martinez, I’m so glad to meet you in person! We sure have appreciated your efforts in the department, that’s for certain.”
Joel smiled and hoped it looked sincere. “Anything I can do to help Ian, Professor,” he said through a dry throat, and he winced as Ian threw him a glare that said plainly the he didn’t need any help if Joel was going to look at him like he just did.
The professor looked from one man to another and took in the undercurrents. “I’m sorry, Mr. Martinez,” she said with a sophisticated smile, “you do realize we were just going over accounts.”
Joel inclined his head. “Absolutely. I knew that.”
“Well, next time I’ll be sure to remind Professor Cooper to put on a shirt before I come in. Now that I know he has a…” her eyes lit up ironically, “… ‘roommate’, I think that’s more appropriate.”
Joel didn’t even try to disguise his relief. “Thanks, Professor. That would be great.”
The woman excused herself then, even as Ian finally scrambled off the floor and stood to open the door for her, and the two of them were left in the silent, suddenly cold apartment.
