Golden

by Sean Michael

  He drew Justin to him, bringing their lips together. “I love you, J. Not just when you tell me things are cool—always.”

  “Everything’s changing.”

  Yes, and he had Justin’s back. “I know. It’s a lot to take in, and change is hard. But things weren’t great before, and I am right here. I’m going to make sure you not only survive the changes but thrive on them.”

  “Why? Why not just find another swimmer and be like a hero again?”

  “Because I love you, and that’s got nothing to do with having a swimmer.”

  “What if I won’t let you love me?”

  Chris chuckled softly. “Babe, you don’t have a choice on that. I do.” He reached out, cupped Justin’s jaw, slid his thumb on the stubbled skin as Justin leaned into him. “You don’t have to fight this so hard, Justin. You deserve happiness as much as the next guy.”

  “I just feel lost.”

  That didn’t surprise him. Chris had been lost without Justin for a long time. “We’ll find each other, okay?”

  Justin stared at him—so serious, so quiet. “You’ve never been lost a second of your whole life.”

  “That’s not true. You just never saw it.”

  “Where am I going to put my stuff?” The question was a not-so-terribly subtle change of subject.

  “I told you I made room in my drawers and closet for your clothes. We can put your TV and gaming console in the den.” He let the change of subject go and climbed out of the car, ready to start officially moving Justin in.

  They got everything in, the unpacking painfully, almost embarrassingly, simple. The Xbox was hooked up, the duffels unpacked, and the movies added to his media shelf.

  He showed Justin the place on his shelves that he’d cleared for the medals. “I’d be honored if you displayed them here.”

  “I was so proud of them. I slept with them that first few months.”

  “Yeah?” Chris grinned. “That’s cool. I’m still proud of you.”

  “I know.” Justin put the medals up, the four of them shining, lovely.

  Chris slid his arms around Justin, put his chin on Justin’s shoulder. Justin took a deep, slow breath and relaxed back against him. That was it. His boy needed to trust him. He let the moment linger, let them both enjoy Justin being home. This was what Chris had needed ever since he’d watched Justin walk out of his life. He finally felt whole again.

  “I love you.” He spoke the words against Justin’s skin.

  Justin took a shuddering breath. “I want you to.”

  “Good. Because I do.” He wrapped his lips around Justin’s throat, began to suck up a mark.

  He didn’t bite, didn’t pull hard. He wanted Justin to stay easy, stay melted back against him. His tongue worked Justin’s skin, tasting the salt and sweat and chlorine. Justin hummed for him, rocking slowly, like they were dancing. Chris slid his hands down to cup Justin’s hips, feeling the sharp bones beneath Justin’s slacks. There were dark bruises there, shaped like Chris’s fingers. He scraped his teeth gently down along Justin’s neck.

  Justin moaned low, went up on tiptoe. “Fuck.”

  “That comes later. We need to shower first.”

  “I didn’t mean…. I wasn’t asking.”

  He chuckled. “I was teasing, J.”

  “Oh. Duh.”

  He patted Justin’s ass. “Come on, babe. Let’s go shower.”

  “I’d love that.” Justin turned, kissed him almost chastely. “Thank you for this afternoon. It felt so good.”

  Chris beamed at his boy. “I’m glad. I hope you have a lot more days where you say that.”

  “Me too.”

  Yes. That’s what he wanted from Justin—for Justin to want more from his life.

  He took Justin’s hand and led him down the hall.

  Chapter Eight

  JUSTIN WOKE up Friday morning before dawn, blinking, trying to figure out where he was, what he was doing. Coach grunted, rolled over, and everything came back to him in a rush. Christ. He’d moved in. With Coach. Coach who he was in bed with, Coach pushing closer, prick hard and hot against Justin’s thigh. He couldn’t help but smile, snuggle in, and let their skin touch. Coach had had them in bed early, had loved him into oblivion and let him rest.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up feeling this good, honestly.

  Coach’s arm slid across him.

  “Mmm.” Justin’s lips found Coach’s throat, his hips pushing closer to that smooth, heated skin.

  Coach’s fingers slid over his hip and around his ass, curling into it, the touch hard enough to make him ache. He wasn’t sure if Coach was awake or anything, but he kept touching, kissing, and licking. Coach moaned for him, hips beginning a slow push against him. Justin’s body answered the motion, the blankets tugged over them, hiding the slowly lightening sky.

  “Justin….” His name sounded like a prayer.

  “Mm-hmm. So warm, Coach.”

  “For you, babe.”

  Justin nodded, moaned, nibbled on Coach’s collarbone.

  Coach’s fingers slid into his hair, cupping his scalp. “Love your mouth.”

  The little words made Justin ache, made him hard as hell. Coach’s hands slid over him as he arched up against Justin, wordlessly demanding more. Justin gave it, biting and licking, kissing and sucking. Each touch had Coach moaning, jerking, pushing into his hand or his lips. It was the easiest thing ever to head south, to wrap his mouth around that fat, swollen cock.

  “Oh, fuck! Babe….”

  Justin hummed his pleasure, then relaxed, drawing Coach in, tongue sliding. Coach bucked, prick pushing deep before his hips settled back down on the bed. How hot that he could make Coach need so much.

  Coach’s legs spread. He slid his hands over Justin’s head, small needy sounds coming from him. Justin kept sucking, focusing on nothing but loving on his man.

  “Yeah. Babe. Good. So good.”

  Every little bit of praise warmed him, made him try harder.

  “Fuck. Gonna make me….”

  He gently rolled Coach’s balls. Come on.

  “Justin!” Calling out his name, Coach came, spunk filling Justin’s mouth.

  He sucked and groaned and swallowed, humming around Coach’s prick. Coach jerked and shivered, his thick cock spurting a few more times before he went totally limp on the mattress.

  Justin rested his cheek on Coach’s thigh, reached down to jack himself off. He didn’t need much, just a touch or two.

  “Don’t you dare touch that.”

  “Shh.” He just needed a touch.

  “Rule number one, babe. No touching. You get what you need from me.”

  “You’re going to have to start writing them down.”

  Coach laughed. “I would think rule number one—no touching your prick—would be easy to remember.”

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

  “Not even a dead man could have slept through that blow job. Now come up here.”

  Justin crawled up Coach’s body, rubbing the entire way.

  “Cheeky,” murmured Coach and brought their lips together.

  What? Justin hadn’t said anything. Nothing at all.

  Coach grabbed his ass and deepened the kiss. Justin moved right into it, lips opening to let Coach in. Coach’s fingers slid over his belly, but instead of moving downward to his prick, they moved upward, toward his nips. Justin groaned, shook his head. They ached. That didn’t stop Coach, though. He reached Justin’s nipples and began to pick at his flesh.

  “Coach.” He moaned against Coach’s lips, arching away.

  “Right here, and you’re not going anywhere either.” Coach pinched his left nipple first, then the right.

  Justin clasped Coach’s wrists.

  Coach’s eyebrows went up. “They need to be good and swollen, babe. All the time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like them like that.”

  “But….” That wouldn’t work. They
’d drive him crazy.

  “And if they’re always dark, no one will know that’s not how they come naturally. See? It’s all good.”

  Justin shook his head, opening and closing his lips. It was too early for logic. Coach half dragged him higher, half slid lower, and suddenly his lips were on Justin’s right nip, working it.

  “Coach. Coach, stop.” Justin’s hips were rocking in spite of himself, driving his cock against Coach’s chest.

  Coach didn’t stop. If anything, Coach’s suction got harder.

  “You have to stop. I’ll make you.” Justin’s head fell back, his balls tight.

  Coach finally did stop.

  And then he moved to the other nipple and sucked on it.

  Justin shoved him away and wrapped his hands around his cock defiantly. “Fuck!”

  “Justin!” Coach grabbed Justin’s hand and tugged it up over his head. “No touching!”

  “I need.” Justin ached.

  “Trust me to take care of you.”

  Oh. Oh, that was no fair. That made it his fault.

  Still holding his wrist, Coach went back to sucking on his left tit.

  “Let me go.” Justin tugged, body sliding on the sheets.

  “No.” It was all Chris said before sucking harder, teeth teasing his skin.

  The ache was maddening, and he sobbed, twisting and fighting, caught. Coach dropped his free hand to Justin’s prick and clenched it as he kept sucking at Justin’s nipple.

  “Oh, fuck. I can’t think. Shit.” Justin humped, fucking Coach’s hand.

  “Told you I’d take care of you.” Coach bit at his nipple and edged a finger into his slit.

  Justin came so hard the room grayed out, and his cries rang through the air.

  “Mmm. There you are.” Coach’s hand kept moving—slowly now, though.

  All Justin could do was whimper. Coach swallowed the sound, mouth covering Justin’s. He shuddered, the pleasure still sparking along his spine. Tonguefucking his mouth, Coach kept moving against him. This was crazy. He couldn’t think.

  Coach rolled him, put him on his back. “Morning, babe.”

  “M-morning.”

  “You ready to go do a few laps to start the day?”

  “You’re very awake,” Justin grumbled.

  “You very awoke me.”

  Justin cracked up. Coach’s sense of humor had always been one of his favorite things on earth. He could always make Justin laugh. Coach’s smile made him happy deep inside.

  “I’d love to do some laps. Then maybe we could have breakfast at Rosie’s? It’s Friday.” He’d always loved their lazy breakfasts.

  “That sounds like the best idea.” Coach kissed him, rubbed their noses together.

  “It does.” God, it so did.

  CHRIS SAT back with his beer, waiting for Justin to make his move on the checkerboard.

  It had been a great day. They’d made love, fooled around together in the pool, had a long, easy breakfast, and watched a couple of movies. He was feeling lazy and happy and just plain good.

  Justin took another piece, then ate a grape, licking the juice off his finger. Chris’s prick jerked. Damn, Justin was fucking sexy. He’d looked good today in the water. Not world-class but good. Good enough to make Chris wonder if maybe…. He took his move, shaking his head at himself. Justin was retired, right? It had been his decision, and it had been a good one. Right?

  “Everything okay, Coach?”

  “Yeah, I was just woolgathering.” He gave Justin a smile. “You hungry? There’s a new Chinese place I’ve been wanting to try.”

  “Sure. Sure. I love the sweet-and-sour stuff.”

  “I know.” He remembered; he remembered everything about Justin.

  Justin grinned. “And you like the beef and broccoli.”

  “I do. And those damn egg rolls.” He could eat those until he exploded.

  “With the sauce….” Justin groaned.

  Chris chuckled. “Yeah. Let’s see if this place lives up to our past favorites.”

  “Sounds good to me, Coach.” Justin ate another grape, then one more.

  Chris jumped three of Justin’s checkers. “King me.”

  “Nope. Sorry. You’re screwed.”

  He shot a look at Justin. “What?”

  Justin chuckled. “I’m changing the rules. I get to keep your checker.”

  “You don’t get to change the rules, babe.”

  “Sure I do.” The tension, the arousal between them flared.

  He met Justin’s eyes. “Not how it works. I’m the coach.”

  “I’m just playing.”

  Chris held Justin’s gaze. “I’m not.”

  “I….” Justin glanced away, stood up. “I’ll go get my phone so we can order supper.”

  He reached out and clasped Justin’s hand, tugged him into his lap. “This between us is real. It’s good.”

  Justin stared at him. “I was just playing with you. I don’t….”

  “You don’t what, babe?” Justin had to finish one of those sentences.

  “I’m wigged.”

  Yes, he imagined so. He rubbed Justin’s back. “It’s been good, though, hasn’t it?”

  Justin nodded. “It has.”

  “Well, then.” He kissed Justin softly. “How about we go over the rules as they stand, see if we’re going to add any others.”

  “We?”

  “You’re allowed to make suggestions, requests.” This had to belong to both of them, not just him.

  “I’m uncomfortable.”

  Chris thought that was part of the excitement, the rush. He stood, still holding Justin, and moved them to the couch. “Now you’re comfortable physically, even if you aren’t mentally.”

  “Don’t you want me to call for food?”

  “Go ahead and call. That’ll give us a time frame for our discussion.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Justin disappeared, and Chris heard him place the order. While learning the ropes, trying things out, he’d met other subs, but they’d been practiced, almost blasé.

  He loved the unschooled responses he got from Justin. Hell, if he was honest—which he tried his damnedest to be—he loved the awkwardness, the nerves. He’d found a pad of paper and a pen by the time Justin had ordered their food and come back to him. He patted his lap. Justin stopped, peered at him, then came closer.

  “How long is it going to be?” Chris wrapped a hand around Justin’s wrist and tugged him down.

  “Forty-five minutes.”

  “Excellent.” Chris handed over the pen and paper. “You can write each rule down.”

  “I’m not sure about this whole rule thing.”

  “I am. Besides, there were plenty of rules when you were my swimmer.”

  “Yeah, but I was a swimmer then.”

  “Well, now you’re my boy. And there will be plenty of rules.” Because his boy thrived under rules. Because they would give Justin the structure he so desperately needed. Because it would mean he saw Justin.

  “I get to say yes or no, though.”

  “You can say anything you want. I won’t necessarily take the rule back, though.”

  “God. Let’s do this. Hurry up.” That was his babe—rip the bandage off.

  “Don’t be pushy,” Chris teased. At Justin’s look, he chuckled. “Okay, okay. Rule number one is the same as it’s always been. No touching your prick without my permission.”

  “I don’t like that one.” But Justin wrote it down.

  “It was the first one, though, and it’ll always be the first one.”

  Justin shivered, and his muscular thighs shifted.

  “Do you remember any of the others we’ve talked about?”

  Justin blushed. “Not to hide my nipples, but I’m going to.”

  “Write it down. It’s rule number two. We’ll decide on punishments when we’ve gone through rules.”

  Justin’s lips opened and closed, the look of shock delicious.

  “Write it down, bab
e.”

  Justin’s hand was shaking, but the words went down.

  “Good boy.” He stroked Justin’s back, rewarding and soothing.

  “This is crazy.”

  “No, it isn’t.” And his boy was going to thrive because of it.

  “Are we done?”

  Oh no. Not even close. “Nope. We’ve mentioned at least one more, haven’t we?”

  “What?”

  “You are not allowed to run yourself down, Justin. Never. In fact, make that rule number one and move the rest down one, because this is the most important rule of all.” He noticed that Justin didn’t argue about that one. At all. “And in number two put respect the Dom. That’s me, and you can put Coach instead of Dom if you prefer.”

  “I respect you!”

  “Yes, but if it’s a rule and you’re bucking for a punishment, you can flip me off again like you did the day after I brought you home.”

  Justin curled into himself, scribbling on the paper. “This is stupid. You’re acting like I’m… an idiot.”

  “Hey.” He took Justin’s chin and turned his head up so he could look into his lover’s eyes. “I know I’ve talked to you before about BDSM. This is a part of it. The rules are there so you and I both know what’s expected, so punishments and rewards happen. Sometimes just because that’s what you want to have happen without expressly asking for it.” He took a breath. “I would never, ever, believe you’re an idiot or treat you like one.”

  “You promise? You don’t think I’m… too stupid?” Justin was getting dangerously close to rule number one—no putting himself down—but Chris let it go because his boy needed the reassurance right now.

  “I promise, Justin. You have to trust me—I have your best interests at heart and I think you’re amazing and I love you.” He drew Justin into his lap again, lips near his boy’s ear. “Besides, babe, think about how hot this is going to be. How much fabulous sex we’re going to have.”

  Justin shivered, lips parting. Chris sucked on Justin’s earlobe, pulling rhythmically. There, there, that was better. This was about need, hunger, passion—about feeling.

  “These here—” He touched Justin’s right nipple, then the left, giving each a pinch. “—should always be red, swollen, stunning. Make that a rule. Or put it as a part two of the no hiding them from me one.”