Not All Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks

by Rebecca Cohen

  A few minutes later and he was standing outside an impressive apartment block that looked older than its neighbors. Not as old as the ones near where he was living, but if he had to hazard a guess it was at least two hundred years old. He peered at the doorplates to locate the buzzer for Steffen’s apartment, something else different here compared to the UK. The flats he’d rented back home had a number as well as the one for the block, but here there was just a name. He hesitated for a moment as his finger hovered over the buzzer belonging to S. Gryse, the only doorplate with an S as a first initial, and he realized he didn’t even know Steffen’s last name. It didn’t change the fact that he wanted this. It had been too long since he’d got laid, and the uncertainty was back.

  Fuck it.

  He pressed the buzzer. Whatever happened this evening, at least there weren’t any bloody piccolos.

  The speaker crackled. “Mark?”

  “Yeah,” he croaked.

  “I’m on the fourth floor.” The lock to the front door clicked, and Mark entered, determined to leave any lingering doubts outside.

  Steffen’s apartment building was a damn sight more impressive than his. The entrance hall leading to the lift had a beautiful stone floor that appeared to glow in the artificial light, and the staircase was made from a light-colored wood that helped the space feel larger than it was. As he waited for the lift, he noticed the simple but striking stained glass windows.

  He took the lift to the fourth floor, excitement replacing his nerves as he stepped out into a little lobby. There was only one door, and he didn’t need to read the small name plaque to tell him it was Steffen’s, as the man himself opened the door.

  “Welcome to my parlor.”

  “Yes, Mr. Spider. But you can forget tying me up. That is not one of this fly’s kinks.”

  Steffen chuckled, a noise Mark was beginning to find very endearing, and opened the door wide. “Come in before you let out all the heat.” He pointed down and wriggled his sock-clad toes. “Shoes off, please.”

  Once inside and with the door shut, Mark shrugged off his coat, which Steffen hung up in a hall closet, and toed off his shoes. Before he had any chance to take in Steffen’s apartment, he was pressed bodily against the door, Steffen’s predatory smirk preceding one of the best kisses of Mark’s life. Whether Steffen really was that good at kissing or it was the anticipation of what other amazing things Steffen could do with his tongue, the kiss made the blood rush in Mark’s ears and his heart thunder like a drum. He’d always thought toe-curling kisses were romantic bullshit, but this kiss, the way Steffen explored his mouth, his hands resting on his hips, firmly claiming him, made Mark realize he’d only received subpar kisses up to this point in his life. And that was a damning statement, given the number of men he’d kissed.

  Steffen stepped away, breaking the kiss, and Mark tried not to slide down the door. He managed to stand up straight. Steffen took his hand and led him out of the small hallway. “If the sex is as good as the kissing, my cock is going to be very happy.”

  Mark silently agreed.

  “But first I promised to feed you.”

  At the mention of food, Mark’s stomach reminded him that lunch had been a rushed sandwich at his desk. The smell that greeted him made his mouth water, but the sight of the open-plan living area of Steffen’s kitchen and lounge almost made him trip over his feet. The large window displayed the city as a panorama, and the room had to be bigger than his flat back in Reading.

  “This place is… wow!” He wandered over to the window. Even in the dark he could make out the Rhine stretching away in front of them. In the other direction lay the Munster and the lights of the old town.

  “It is very special. But so is my prawn linguini.” Steffen placed a hand on his hip, and Mark let Steffen guide him to a small dining table. “The bedroom ceiling is even better, but you will get the chance to see that soon enough.”

  “I’m beginning to think you have a one-track mind.”

  Steffen pressed another kiss to his lips, more chaste than the one that welcomed him. “If you are only now beginning to think it, maybe I’m being too subtle.”

  Mark doubted Steffen knew what subtle meant—either that or there was a different meaning of the word used in Swiss German. Steffen pressed another quick kiss to Mark’s lips and went over to the kitchen area.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Mark asked, more to fill the silence than out of a true desire to be useful.

  Steffen placed two wineglasses on the kitchen counter. “Open the wine. It’s in the fridge.”

  It wasn’t as if he’d never had dinner with someone before, and yes, on those occasions dinner had often led to sex, but he’d never been in this position where sex had already been prenegotiated, with no need for a prelude or pretense that Mark was here for anything else.

  Steffen looked at home in a kitchen, exuding confidence in the way he drained the pasta and added it to a frying pan to toss the sauce through it. His shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow and his collar open casually—no doubt the tie he’d worn during the day discarded somewhere—Steffen had the air of effortlessly sexy, and Mark imagined he appeared a crumpled mess by comparison.

  Steffen loaded the pasta into bowls. “Maybe we should set some ground rules while we eat. I would like us both to be clear where we stand—miscommunication is the bane of such situations.”

  He sounded businesslike, as if he was about to broker terms and exchange contracts. Mark only hummed quietly in response as he returned to the dining area and placed the wine on the table next to the bowls Steffen had already set down.

  “I hope you’re not going to have me write them down and sign them,” Mark said, picking up his fork.

  “Why ever not? We could get them notarized and framed.” Steffen laughed. “You are still surprised by my approach. I would’ve thought it sensible to talk this through.”

  “I’m fine. You’re right, of course. I just hate feeling like a subclause in a business deal.”

  He tried the pasta, and it was fucking fantastic. Steffen was almost too good to be true. Attractive, rich—if his apartment was anything to go by—probably amazing in bed, and a great cook. Fuck, he needed to be careful. Otherwise he was in danger of getting right royally screwed, and not in the fun way.

  They finished the pasta, Mark resisting the urge to lick his bowl clean. Steffen put down his fork and reached over and stroked the back of Mark’s hand. “I know I’m not the most romantic person, but this is not a romance, yet I do not wish you to think it is mundane. If that kiss we shared is an indicator, then we could have some wonderful times together while you are in Basel. But we should set some boundaries.”

  “Boundaries. As in safewords?”

  “Not what I meant. Look, Mark, you are here for a few months. We are not about to start getting serious. I just want to make sure we both have the same expectations.”

  It made sense, even if it felt unduly weird to be having a frank, upfront conversation with a man he was about to sleep with. “I get it. You’re not going to introduce me to your parents. We’ll have fun, enjoy whatever happens, but ultimately I’m heading back to the UK, and I doubt either of us has the time or energy to fight for a long-distance relationship.”

  “Exactly. You are not naïve, or a virgin—you know how sex works, and I want to ensure the sex works the best for both of us. Neither of us should do something because we think the other would like it, and we should both be open about our needs.”

  They were good words, nice words even. Mark was happy to hear them, and now all he had to do was listen to them and not do anything stupid, and try not to repeat past mistakes where he’d done things in order to apologize for something, or in the vain hope of saving something that was terminal. “I need you to take me to bed. So unless you’ve any additional requirements, we should get on that.”

  “Do not forget my tour guide duties, but in essence we are aligned.” Steffen raised his glass. “To a very pleasur
able passing of our time.”

  Mark raised his glass. He had doubts, not about sleeping with Steffen, but his own ability not to get in too deep. But those doubts weren’t going anywhere fast, and he wasn’t about to pass up what could be excellent sex. His recent boyfriends had been solid, reliable men, and the sex had been all right but hardly sonnet inducing. “To pleasure. Now, you said something about wanting to fuck me.”

  Steffen stood up, pushing his chair back, scraping it across the wooden floor. He held out his hand. “Let me escort you to the bedroom.”

  The small part of his brain that would have been happier dwelling in a cave and hunting woolly mammoths wanted to race to the bedroom, rip off all his clothes, and demand Steffen suck his cock, but Caveman Mark was going to be unlucky, as Steffen clearly wasn’t going to be rushed.

  Steffen pulled him close, sliding his hand up to cup Mark’s jaw, the deep kiss stealing Mark’s ability to think straight, and he was somewhat dazed as Steffen ended the kiss. Compliant, Mark followed Steffen through a door off the kitchen to the right, into a bedroom that was probably as spectacular as the rest of the apartment, but Mark’s attention was on the huge bed and devilish grin Steffen was sporting.

  “You are such a distraction,” said Steffen, his fingers working on the buttons of Mark’s shirt. “Ever since you said you liked men in our impromptu drink at Café Des Arts I have been having the most inopportune thoughts about what I would do with you.”

  Mark knew he wasn’t bad-looking, and he’d been told that his sense of humor made him fun to be around, but he hadn’t expected to have made such an impression on a man as experienced as Steffen.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin too many of your meetings,” he replied lightly, trying not to give away his thoughts.

  “You have no idea. It is pure fortune that when I was at your office this week, you were not around, or I doubt I could have contained myself, and we would have had to explain being found in a compromising position across your desk.”

  “Probably for the best we keep our activities away from work.”

  “With that in mind, let me help you out of your office wear.” Steffen finished unbuttoning Mark’s shirt, kissing across his shoulders as he peeled the material away. Mark went willingly as Steffen pushed him backward onto the bed, Steffen divesting himself of his own shirt as he joined him. Chest to chest, Steffen ran his hands up Mark’s sides, kissing him deeply. Mark moaned happily at the feel of Steffen’s firm torso above him, and the lusty fire from the kiss made his heart race and the desire rush through his body. His only contribution to removing his own clothes was to lift his hips while Steffen peeled away his trousers, underwear, and socks. There was no denying Steffen’s experience, not when he could get Mark out of his clothes so quickly, with him barely realizing he’d been completely undressed. Seconds later, Steffen was equally naked, crawling toward him across the bed. Steffen was a sight to behold, long-limbed and not overly muscled, but Mark was too preoccupied by Steffen’s hard cock. Dear God, Steffen was perfectly proportioned, not so large as to be uncomfortable but definitely big enough so he’d feel thoroughly fucked.

  Steffen’s lips ghosted over Mark’s inner thigh as he worked his way up Mark’s body. Mark lifted his head to watch as Steffen nuzzled his balls before cupping them with one hand and sliding two of his fingers behind them to stroke Mark’s perineum. Mark’s cock twitched as Steffen licked his way up the length of the shaft, taking a moment to tease the slit before taking Mark fully into his mouth.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His head hit the pillow, and he moaned loudly, unable to keep quiet but not wanting to annoy the neighbors as Steffen unleashed his skills, applying the most perfect heat and pressure to Mark’s cock. It had been so long since someone had worshipped his cock in such a fashion, making him feel that sucking him off was the most important thing in the world. His balls tightened, and the breath hitched in his throat. He was so close. Then the bastard stopped.

  “Please… need….”

  “Not this time,” Steffen said with a dark chuckle. “You will come only when I am inside you and when I am ready for you to do so.”

  “Fuck!” Mark whined, gently pushing Steffen’s mouth back on his cock. “No teasing—put your fucking glorious mouth to work.”

  Steffen gave Mark’s cock one last long lick from balls to tip. “Next time I will let you come down my throat, but not now.”

  “Bastard,” he hissed with affection. “I will hold you to that.”

  Steffen slid his hand under a pillow and retrieved a tube of lube and a condom. Mark wasn’t surprised Steffen was prepared. “I cannot wait to be inside of you.”

  “Then get on with it.” He gently prodded Steffen’s side with his foot. “Or I’ll use my hand to finish myself. It won’t take long.”

  “Behave,” said Steffen, looming over him, his smile predatory, his eyes dancing with glee. “You will come when I am inside you. Not before.”

  Steffen claimed a deep messy kiss, his hand ghosting over Mark’s cock but not enough friction for Mark’s liking.

  “I’m beginning to think you’re all talk.”

  “Then I will have to prove you wrong.” Steffen sat back and made a great show of coating two of his fingers with lube.

  Mark opened his mouth to goad Steffen further, but the sensation of a slick finger pressing against his entrance and slowly pushing inside made him think better of it. His cock was hard and aching as Steffen masterfully worked him open. Between his throbbing cock, fingers in his arse, and the love bites Steffen was peppering across his stomach, Mark was barely coherent. The years of mundane sex were forgotten as Steffen kept him on the edge, and just as he thought he might come, Steffen slowed down, only to wind Mark back up again.

  He swore loudly as Steffen removed his fingers, but Steffen appeased him when he rolled on a condom and returned to kneel between Mark’s thighs. “Soon, Mark. Your patience will be well rewarded.”

  Mark gave up any attempt to keep his moans to a reasonable level as Steffen slid inside, encouraging Mark to lift his legs a little, and the angle allowed Steffen to push even deeper. After a few cursory thrusts to find his way, Steffen seemed to instinctively know what worked best for Mark, or maybe it was simply coincidence that it worked well for Steffen and he brought Mark along for the ride.

  Mark couldn’t last long, not with him this near to completion. From his fiery kisses to the astounding blow job and prep, Steffen had treated him perfectly. Steffen moved faster, his thrusts pushing Mark ever closer, and Mark came with a shout, and without Steffen having to touch his cock.

  He rode the wave of bright white stars exploding as he groaned deeply and coated his stomach with his release. Steffen sped up, fucked him, used Mark’s very willing body to chase his own orgasm. It was fucking amazing. Mark hadn’t felt so fucking sexy in years, so desired, and his whole body sang, happy to let Steffen find his own reward deep inside him.

  Mark huffed loudly, trying to catch his breath. He rolled onto his side to stare at the man who’d managed to ruin him so completely, a man whose touch was wanton yet warm, demanding yet considerate, and at the same time leveled all his concentration on Mark so he felt like he was the center of the universe. His stellar position was brought rudely into focus as Steffen’s mobile buzzed on the nightstand.

  Steffen groaned as he looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this. It’s the New York office. They do not call me at this time unless there is a real issue.”

  Mark stretched, enjoying the feel of Steffen’s sheet against his skin, the buzz from his orgasm too loud to pay much attention to Steffen’s conversation until he heard, “Hold on, Jack. I will call you back in a few minutes.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “No.” Steffen sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. “Sorry, Mark, I’m going to have to deal with this.”

  “No worries. I understand.”

  His delightful sex-addled haze began to ebb away. This was never going to be an encounte
r of rose petals and poetry, and frankly the sex itself was more than enough to keep him warm. It wasn’t as if he’d expected to spend the night. He’d not even thought to bring a toothbrush or change of clothes, but it would have been nice to have at least a second round.

  “I’m really sorry,” Steffen said as he grabbed his boxers and trousers.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I would’ve had to get home at some point.”

  Steffen wore a pained expression, somewhere between embarrassed and confused. “Mark, I… I didn’t intend to send you home. I have to work now, but that doesn’t mean you need to leave.”

  Mark didn’t see the issue. They’d agreed to have sex, they had, and now Steffen’s plans had changed, so Mark could head back a bit earlier than expected. It wasn’t a problem. “I admit I didn’t think I’d be heading home so soon, but it’s not like I thought I was getting breakfast.”

  “I’ll have you know many of my past lovers had wanted to stay for breakfast.”

  Steffen sounded a little hurt that Mark was so quick to leave, but Mark thought he must be reading too much into it. Casual was what they had agreed to. They’d fucked, and now he was leaving—that was pretty much the definition of casual.

  Mark finished dressing, wishing he’d thought to shower first to remove the stickiness and sweat, but he could deal with that easily enough once back at his apartment. “I’m going to head off. Leave you to sort out the problems with your Americans. I’m sure you’ll be able to resolve them a lot easier without me loitering around distracting you and trying to tempt you back to bed.”