Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1)

by K-lee Klein

  “I know you did.”

  “It’s how I feel about you but in gift form. Does that work?”

  “You're just, ugh, disgustingly you.”

  Devon should've been offended except Scott leaned-in to kiss him, slow and proper, and all was right with the world again. Devon cradled the back of Scott's head when they parted. He morphed into his best puppy dog expression. “That mean you like my gift?”

  “Did you pull that face on your mom?” Scott asked, teasingly.

  “She never fell for it,” Devon chuckled.

  Scott patted his cheek. “She sounds like a very smart lady.”

  “Already told you she would've liked you. You would've been thick as thieves. Gang the fuck up on me too I imagine.”

  “Guess I'll have to do that all on my own in her honor then.” Scott unbuckled the watchstrap as Devon silently, ecstatically, observed. He tucked it around his wrist, struggling to do it up with shaky fingers.

  Devon took his hand. “Let me help,” he offered quietly as Scott averted his gaze. He held his arm out so Devon could get a better angle, unshed tears sparkled behind his eyes, and his lashes were damp. The rest of his body trembled like his hands. Devon swept his thumb under Scott’s chin so they were eye-to-eye again.

  “I'm sorry,” Scott murmured. “I'm such a mess.”

  Devon tread carefully. All he knew about anxiety could be written on a Post-It note, but he knew enough to not touch unless it was requested or initiated. Except he didn’t want to wait. “I’d like to hug you. That okay?” He was relieved when Scott dragged him closer.

  Physical contact had always been important in Devon’s life. Whether it was his mom, Shadow, Beth, or anyone in his close circle, he reveled in being close, skin-to-skin close. Any kind of physical contact. His mom had deemed him touch-starved when he couldn’t help searching her out for no good reason. She’d been used to it of course. Scott nodded and Devon quickly—but gently—manhandled him so they were laying on the bed again, Scott's head on Devon's chest and Devon holding him close.

  “Did I do something specific to upset you or is my wonderfulness too much to take all in one sitting?” He inquired, hoping his attempt at lightening the mood was welcome.

  Scott didn't answer right away but eventually he lifted his head to take off his glasses. He tossed them on the side table then swiped at his eyes.

  “Your wonderfulness is a little draining. I just…I never…” His words trailed off as he hid his face in Devon’s neck. Sniffles followed but he finished his thought nonetheless. “I never dreamed I'd have something like this. Thank you, Dev. Really. thank you.”

  It was too much. Devon wasn’t accustomed to dealing with so much in-your-face sincerity, especially from Scott who tended to hold his feelings tight to his chest more than spew them all over the place like Devon himself. Instead of saying something stupid or inappropriate—he was good at that—he brushed his lips over the top of Scott's head and embraced him tighter. Melancholy wasn't necessarily part of a romantic moment, but Scott wasn't one to lose control, so melancholy was fine with Devon.

  “You know you don't have to thank me, right?” he asked after a lifetime of silence. He didn't expect an answer, so he continued. “You're good for me. Haven't I ever told you that?”

  “I love the watch,” Scott replied with a sniffle. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, peering at the timepiece that looked right at home on his wrist. “Hopefully I didn't get snot all over it.” Devon guffawed, his chest shaking Scott’s whole body. “I can't believe I said that. You again with the bad influence.”

  “I have heard that before.” Devon kissed the top of Scott’s head again. He couldn’t seem to keep his lips to himself. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, stepping back into his role as host.

  A heaving sigh warmed the damp spot on Devon's shirt. Scott sat up, rubbing at the wetness but merely spreading it. “I’m pretty content but you might need a dry shirt.”

  Devon replied with a smug expression. “I do live here so that's not a problem.”

  “Or you could take it off.” Scott eyed Devon like he'd issued some major challenge. Devon mimicked the glare and whipped his shirt over his head.

  “Or I can take it off,” he agreed. He threw the T-shirt haphazardly.

  It seemed like the first awkward moment they'd had all day. Not that he was keeping score, but Scott's comfort was important to him. He'd never seen Scott cry before and his tears plucked at Devon's heart. Scott squinted at him and Devon suddenly realized he still didn't have his glasses on.

  “So, I think I’ve expressed my sappy side pretty well today, like well enough to make it into the history books top ten of sappy days.” Ten points for the use of lists, DuCaine. “But have I ever mentioned how beautiful your eyes are?” He winked and shifted so they were nose to nose. Scott tried to duck away but Devon cupped his jaw. “Beautiful like a sunset or the first flowers of spring.”

  The snicker Scott tried to stifle made Devon’s pride swell in his chest. “Is mushy prose part of your resume too? Or do you fancy yourself a poet?”

  “Fancy myself?” Devon chuckled. “My mom used to say that. Never heard someone our age say it though. You rate very high on the unique scale, Scott Weston.”

  Scott muttered under his breath and Devon wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear the declaration or not. “I must have picked it up from my parents. Hopefully I didn't take much else from them.”

  History had proven that family was a touchy subject with Scott and Devon never knew whether to try to soothe him or leave it alone. Of course, he wasn't very good at keeping his thoughts to himself especially when Scott's pain was involved. “They must have some good qualities, right?”

  “Why would you say that?” Scott looked appalled at the suggestion.

  Devon shrugged, attempting to look casual as he said,” Well they produced you, didn’t they?”

  What happened next was unexpected but awesome. Scott spat a big laugh right in Devon’s face then kept laughing until he cried and almost fell off the bed. Devon grabbed him just in time and Scott knocked his forehead against Devon's sternum a few times before his body stopped shaking. “I’m having a hard time remembering if you’re this sappy when it's not Valentine's Day.”

  “You always tell me I'm charming,” Devon preened with a smug twist of his mouth.

  “Too often apparently.” Scott looked at Devon like he was the best thing in the whole damn universe. Devon knew he was trying to talk tough.

  He fingered the bottom of Scott's shirt, his cockiness waning for a moment. “I stole some of my charm from my mom, you know? When I was little and was upset, she'd say, “ Il mio cuore, your eyes hold the beauty of the sunset and first flowers of spring”

  “Eel me—what's that mean?”

  Devon couldn't help smiling at the memory. “It's Sicilian, or Italian I guess, for my heart. When I was little she tucked me in every night and said, “Il tuo cuore è il mio curore.”

  Scott tilted his head, accidentally rubbing his nose against Devon's. “Sounds beautiful.”

  “She said it meant your heart is my heart,” Devon said. He could still hear that familiar voice in his head.

  “I'm not going to try to pronounce it but it’s sweet. Do you speak the language then? Sicilian or Italian?”

  Devon shook his head, the voice in his head fading, replaced by the current love of his life’s. “Naw. Only a few things here and there.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn another language,” Scott replied matter-of-factly. “Not that I’ve been anywhere that I need to use it of course.”

  “Maybe we can rectify that sometime soon.”

  “Loving you is kind of scary.”

  Shifting so he was propped on one elbow, Devon cocked his head at Scott. “How so?”

  “You’re…you, and I’ve never met a you before. Sometimes it’s overwhelming when I think about how much I care for you.”

  He touched Devon’s ches
t and Devon’s heart soared as he leaned to kiss him. “I’d like to ravage you now. You okay with that?” He didn’t wait for an answer, simply attached his lips to the soft skin behind Scott’s ear and ghosted light fingers down his torso.

  “Mother mercy,” Scott muttered. It wasn't a yes but the way he let his head relax back into the pillow, soft smile on his face, spoke volumes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It took no longer than twelve seconds for Devon to get Scott's pants undone. “Maybe I am magic after all,” he thought as he mouthed Scott through his underwear. The underlying taste of pre-cum made him groan and Scott echoed the sound. “Gonna make you feel so good, Scott,” Devon said when he moved back to Scott’s lips.

  They kissed like teenagers at the Saturday night drive-in, exploring each other without removing any clothes, other than Devon’s lost shirt. There was something to be said about the mystery of hidden flesh, despite having indulged in it many times before.

  “Do you want me to…” Scott began, the last word little more than a lusty squeak since Devon had returned to the mystery under Scott’s tighty-whities.

  “Wanna suck you, Scott. Wanna taste you and feel you on my tongue.”

  Devon sucked the tip through the material, Scott shoved his hands in Devon's hair, plucked the hair tie out and tugged at the released strands. Devon’s own erection swelled uncomfortably in his pants, but it wasn’t about that. He could wait for release, but he couldn’t wait to give Scott his. He flinched when Scott pulled a little harder.

  “Too much?” he asked, inhaling Scott's musky scent.

  “Too slow,” Scott whispered. Desire shone bright and desperate in his eyes as he peered down at Devon. He pulled harder, mostly for good measure then smirked through kiss-swollen lips. “It’s not going to take much but—oh shit.”

  His waistband was easily yanked down and Devon’s mouth quick to engulf Scott’s leaking cockhead. He licked at it, swirling his tongue underneath the way that made Scott squirm and keen. He concentrated his efforts on the tip, poking at the leaking slit, sucking the crown into his mouth as his hand slid between Scott’s legs. He fingered Scott's balls, flattening his other hand over Scott’s belly when he bucked his hips.

  Getting Scott off was one of Devon's favorite activities or hobbies or maybe both. The noises he pulled from his boyfriend and the sensual way Scott responded to every stroke, every lick, every suck made Devon rock hard and straining against his zipper. It also made him proud to be the one responsible for making Scott react this way.

  Even though Devon had more than his share of sexual experiences under his belt, adding love to the mix was a whole different ballgame. There was no comparison.

  Scott tightened his grip in Devon's hair, his breaths shallow, and chest heaving. Devon closed his eyes, licked slowly from tip to root and back again once, twice, before taking him into his mouth. He slid one arm tight over Scott's hips when they bounced up to meet him. He held him in place when his body arched and flexed. They'd long since established that Devon liked it when Scott fucked his mouth and Scott didn't disappoint.

  Their combined whimpers saturated the room, took the quiet and turned it on its ass. Had anyone walked up the stairs, their activity couldn’t be construed for anything other than what it really was. Scott was a moaner, a groaner, a gasper, and squeaker, and Devon ate it all up. When Devon swallowed around him, Scott flailed and thrust his head back into the pillow. Devon did it again and Scott’s dick hit the back of his throat, nearly choking him in its enthusiasm.

  Scott’s sexy noises suddenly tapered off, his body going taut and motionless for a dozen heartbeats and Devon hummed against the velvet hardness. He vibrated his tongue the way he knew would send Scott over the edge and his technique was rewarded with a loud gasp and two hard thrusts before Scott stopped moving completely.

  He sucked and licked, and it was only moments until Scott’s shaft throbbed against Devon's tongue and the salty hotness of pre-come seeped into his mouth. He let Scott grip his head while he writhed and keened, continuing to fondle Scott's balls. In one fell swoop he slid one finger between his own lips, alongside Scott’s shaft, then trailed it between Scott's legs again. Scott whined when Devon circled his hole; once, twice, three times until his cock pulsed and Scott went off like a firehose.

  When Scott fell over the edge a little faster than expected, filling Devon’s mouth and dashing down his throat, Devon had to pull off or choke. It wouldn’t have been a bad way to go, he supposed. Cum leaked over his lips and teeth when he smiled up at Scott. He swallowed, smacking his lips like he'd been licking the most delicious ice cream cone ever, grinning deviously when Scott moaned between huffs and puffs. He worked Scott through the aftershocks before trailing kisses up his thighs, giving special attention to his treasure trail and attempting to shove his shirt up to his chin to get at his nipples.

  Scott's cheeks were pink, his eyes bright when he grabbed Devon and slotted their mouths together again. The kiss was pure passion, messy but perfect. Scott didn't last long, his chest heaving as he gulped for breath. He wound himself around Devon, sighing heavily as Devon held him close.

  “Jeez Dev. That was…wow,” Scott managed to squeak. “Do you want me to—”

  “I'm good,” Devon interrupted. “Great actually.” He flopped heavily on top of Scott, kissing and nuzzling behind his ear.

  They stayed that way for a while, both boneless and content, dozing between lazy kisses. After a while Devon lifted his head and his heart threatened to spill out of his chest. That happened a lot these days. Scott's eyes were closed, long lashes fanned over his cheeks, little puffs of air slipping between his lips. So peaceful and sweet. Devon was contemplating going back to sleep when Scott’s eyes slivered open.

  “Hi there,” Devon murmured. “My sleeping beauty.”

  Scott rubbed his nose to Devon's. “There are a lot of things wrong with that statement, but since you’re the one responsible for sucking my brain out through my penis I'll let it slide.”

  “That’s the most romantic think you’ve ever said to me,” Devon quipped with a chuckle and butterfly flutter of his lashes.

  “I'm special that way. I guess we should get cleaned up, huh?” Scott’s contented expression didn’t match his request and Devon would’ve been perfectly content to hold him hostage in that moment, just repeat it, over and over again like Groundhog’s Day.

  Devon pecked at his bottom lip. “Think I cleaned you up pretty good.” He smacked his lips again, mostly to see the color rise in Scott’s cheeks. “You're a tasty morsel.”

  And Scott didn’t disappoint. He blushed in response to such a simple gesture, after his cock had been in Devon's mouth only moments before. It was charming, but probably not in the way Scott always referred to Devon. It was one more reminder of why he was so far gone on Scott.

  “Guess you're pretty thoughtful in your own way,” Scott said. He paused, staring deeply into Devon's eyes. “You’re pretty tasty too, and you know, thank you for today.”

  “Never thank me for something I love doing. Day's not over, sweetheart.” Devon kissed Scott, hard but quick, then attempted to wiggle out of his embrace. He sighed, giving up with the drawn-out, satisfied sound that made his insides quiver. “You thirsty?”

  “I’m putty in your skilled hands,” Scott said, smugly. He was gorgeously rumpled and disheveled, not a way Devon was used to seeing him. He liked it a lot. “What did you have in mind?”

  Devon pushed out another sigh, brain spinning from the smell of sex in the room. “Let’s see. We have beer, wine—”

  “Pretty sure we destroyed that bottle.”

  Devon clicked his tongue. “And you think a mighty rockstar of awesome only has one bottle of wine? Is that your final answer?”

  “I didn’t answer at all. Just stated the facts.” Scott hid his face in Devon’s neck. “I’m good with whatever but I should use the facilities first.”

  “Ah, so no watersports—”

 
; “Devon!”

  “Okay, okay.” He quite enjoyed watching Scott squirm, but no matter how often he mentioned it, it was still an ewww for him too. “Okay how about you hit the head and then we can move onto the next portion of Devon’s All-fun, All-Day Valentines’ celebration?”

  Scott groaned but it wasn’t the orgasmic noise Devon loved. “No more surprises,” he hissed without sounding angry. “I already feel like I’ve failed Valentine’s Day—”

  “No gifts involved. Swear to the god of V-Day.” Devon pointed to the ceiling as Scott whacked him with a pillow. He sprang from the bed before Devon could retaliate.

  After Scott cleaned himself up, Devon herded him back into the main house. “Hey, can you grab a couple of mugs from that cupboard over your head?” he asked as he set the kettle to boil. Next, he poured milk into a plastic cup and shoved it in the microwave.

  “World’s best mechanic? Seriously?”

  Devon shrugged, reaching to pinch Scott’s ass. “Whatcha expect? There’s a mom one in there too. You can use it,” he said, forcing the sadness in his heart at bay at least for the time being. His mom had loved Valentine’s Day.

  “Wouldn’t World’s greatest head-basher be more appropriate?” Scott asked with a smug expression.

  Devon pinched him again, chuckling at whatever the hell Scott had said. “Head basher? I got you here perfectly safely.”

  Scott rolled his eyes, setting the mugs in front of Devon, and taking the glass of water he offered. “No. I mean your fans do that, right? Head bash?”

  The burst of laughter was unexpected, especially considering Devon had just taken a long swallow of his own water. Brownie points for spitting into the sink and not all over Scott. “Head-banging, sweetheart. Head-bashing sounds much more violent.”

  Waving Devon off with a roll of his eyes, Scott sipped at his glass. “Going to let me in on the next part of your plan for world domination?”