by Ryan Field
There was more to all this and Harrison knew it at that moment. Even though the act appeared to be raw and vulgar on the surface, he felt the emotional energy so deeply in his soul he wasn’t sure how to process all the feelings that were rushing through him. He’d never believed in love at first sight, but then what else could this be? But more than that, they shared a connection that neither one of them seemed able to deny, and it happened at the most unlikely moments. When Morton called his name softly a few times, his heart grew eager to hear more. No one had ever said his name in such a wonderful, magical way. The only thing Harrison wanted to do was to please him, to care for him, and to put him up on a pedestal and never let him down. The magnitude of it all was so overwhelming he wasn’t sure if he could spend another day in his life without Morton. And he did his best as a lover, and as a man, to show him how he felt that night because he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to put it all into words.
They came together with Morton on his back, on the wooden floor of the gazebo, and Harrison on top gazing down at Morton’s face. As Harrison’s erection swelled deep inside Morton’s body, he pushed all the way in, threw his head back, and remained dead still for a few seconds. When he finally opened his eyes to glance down at Morton again, his first instinct was to kiss him harder than he’d ever kissed anyone before.
After they kissed, Harrison said, “That was nice.”
Morton smiled and nodded. “It was very nice. We should get up now. It’s very late.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I’d like that.”
After they stood up and brushed themselves off, Harrison put his dick back into his pants and Morton pulled the black mini-dress down. They held hands and walked slowly, and they spoke with caution. It was almost as if they both wanted to be sure they didn’t say or do anything that would offend the other. It wasn’t awkward, though. If anything, Harrison felt so familiar it was as though Morton had known him for years.
When they finally reached the brownstone where Morton lived, Harrison held him again and said, “Am I coming inside?” He didn’t want to play games, and he didn’t want to be coy. They were both men and this was not a heteronormative situation with any gender politics. They didn’t have to follow those rules and regulations, and Harrison wanted to make that clear.
“Do you want to come inside?” Morton asked. “I mean I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. This is a little unusual for me. You’re a big rock star, and I’m no one. I won’t be upset if you just walk away and I never see you again. I’m fine with that, really I am. I had a good time tonight. But I wanted to ask anyway just in case you’re tired and you want to crash.”
Harrison kissed his nose. “Are you really fine with that? You’d let me just walk away and never see me again?”
“Well, no,” Morton said. “No really. I don’t want you to walk away. I like you. But I don’t want you to stay unless you want to stay. Do you want to stay?”
“Let me put it this way,” Harrison said. “I don’t think I could walk away right now even if I tried. I want to know more about you.” Then he kissed him on the mouth right there on the front stoop.
Chapter Four
Morton could have remained in bed for the rest of the morning, and that would have been a first for him. He’d never been one of those people who could lounge around in bed all morning, with a sink full of dirty dishes and half empty glasses littering the apartment, wearing nothing but the underwear he’d worn the day before while his hair stood up in every direction. He’d always prided himself on his work ethic and the way he attacked his life head on. He couldn’t even leave the house until his bed was made up just right, with the throw pillows placed perfectly in the exact same spot every time.
On any normal Sunday morning, he would have climbed out of bed at 6:00 in the morning and gone for his daily run. On a good day he ran for 40 minutes, but never less than 40 on any day. He’d always believed that if he lived his life a certain way, good things would come to him, which is why he made a face and rolled his eyes on that Sunday morning when he looked over his shoulder and realized that Harrison was in his bed.
They were both naked and he remembered everything he’d done the night before. He hadn’t been drinking, so he had no plausible excuses for his actions. Morton never met strange men in bars or on hook up apps and had casual sex with them. He’d always taken the time to get to know a guy first, and even then he waited a little while before he had sex with them. When he thought about where he’d had sex with Harrison, in such a public place where anyone could have stumbled across them, he felt a pain in his stomach that left him feeling a little light-headed. He felt out of control, as if he’d lost his senses and all self-respect. All of a sudden he felt the urge to make everything right again and he turned to climb out of bed.
However, as he turned Harrison grunted and reached over to grab his shoulder. “Good morning, cutie,” Harrison said. “Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d get up and make coffee and some breakfast,” Morton said. “I thought you might be hungry.”
Harrison grunted again, and then he threw his naked leg over Morton’s entire body. “I’m starved, cutie. But not for food. I want some more of you. Come back to bed.”
A second after that, Harrison was on top of him and his legs were spread as wide as they’d go. He pressed his palms against Harrison’s shoulders and glanced into his steel blue eyes. He’d never seen eyes this sharp and intense. Harrison’s thick dark beard and wild long hair left him unable to move. Everything about this man was strong and solid, from his wide shoulders to his deep smooth voice. And that’s when Morton realized he couldn’t have resisted him last night if he’d tried. The emotions coursing through his body went far beyond any normal attraction he’d felt before with other men, and it surpassed any passion he’d ever experienced. Even if he’d been told he was in for nothing but trouble, and that he should run away fast and never look back, he wouldn’t have listened. He simply could not resist anything about this man.
They made love again that morning, and this time it was even more passionate than the night before. There were no questions or unspoken agendas and everything they did seemed to fall into place so naturally it left Morton wondering if this was real. Harrison seemed to know what he needed the most, and he gave Harrison exactly what he needed without saying a word aloud. After they made love, Harrison fell asleep on top of him for about an hour, and he just remained still while he gently caressed Harrison’s back.
By the time they climbed out of bed it was nearly noon and Morton realized he’d never stayed in bed that long in his life. Not even as a teenager. He watched Harrison put on a pair of white cotton boxer shorts, and then lope to the bathroom in his bare feet so he could pee. He left the bathroom door wide open and he didn’t seem to care who saw him lean back and point his dick toward the toilet. It was nice to see he felt that comfortable.
“Are you hungry?” Morton asked. He put on a pair of loose black sweat pants. “I’ll make coffee and I have bacon and eggs.”
Harrison shook his dick a few times and said, “I’m starved, cutie. Whatever you make, I’ll eat it.” With his deep voice, it almost sounded as if he’d growled.
So Morton left him there and went into the kitchen to get things ready. At least Harrison was staying for breakfast, which was always a good sign. Morton hadn’t been totally sure how that would work. He’d always been attracted the types who had sex, got what they needed, and left quickly with a lame excuse about having something to do they couldn’t put off. They’d say they would call or text, but never did. It would have been okay if Harrison had done that, and it wouldn’t have been the first time a guy had done it to Morton. But the fact that he appeared to be so comfortable and content in the apartment that morning left Morton wondering how all this would turn out.
It wasn’t a large apartment, but not as small as some places in New York. Morton had been lucky enough to inherit it fro
m his parents after they died suddenly, and he owned it free and clear. He still had to pay monthly association fees and yearly taxes, but if he scrimped and saved, and didn’t live extravagantly, with the little bit of money he made from singing and the small inheritance his parents had left him, he could afford it. The only thing he’d ever wanted to do with his life was perform, and that’s partly because he couldn’t do anything else.
The kitchen was open to the main living area of the apartment and Morton could see everything Harrison was doing while he prepared breakfast. The minute Harrison exited the bedroom in his white boxer shorts, he pulled his phone out of the jacket he’d thrown over the sofa the night before and started texting someone. It wasn’t just a quick text like most people. The entire time Morton cooked, made coffee, and set the table for two, Harrison paced the living room staring down at his phone and texting with his thumbs. A couple of times he made a face, as if he didn’t like the texts he was receiving, and Morton started to get annoyed with him. One or two texts would have been fine, but to stand there staring at the phone for almost a half hour was too much to deal with.
When Morton finally said, “Everything’s ready,” and Harrison continued to text without shifting his gaze, Morton grabbed a pot and a wooden spoon and started banging them together.
That got his attention.
Harrison looked up from his phone and sent Morton a blank stare.
“I’m trying to tell you that breakfast is ready,” Morton said. “But if you’d rather stand there and stare at your phone in that rude, obnoxious way, don’t let me get in your way.”
If Harrison took offense, he didn’t show it outwardly. He set his phone down on the arm of the sofa and loped over to the head of the table with his huge bare feet. “Good, I’m starved. You sure did give me a work out last night.” Then he reached around and slapped Morton on the butt.
Morton sent him a smile and pulled out a chair so he could sit down across from him. In his own crude way, there was something amusing about Harrison that made Morton want to laugh. In spite of himself, and the way he’d just been slapped on the butt. He poured him a cup of coffee and said, “I hope everything’s okay. I’m not the best cook.”
Harrison held his fork in his fist and started eating as though he was shoveling the food into his mouth. “Best damn eggs I ever had. Do you have a little vodka for my coffee?”
“This early? Are you a drunk?”
Harrison laughed. “I like a drink sometimes. It helps me start my day.”
Although Morton didn’t drink alcohol often, he did keep a bottle of vodka in his freezer at all times just in case. As he stood up and crossed to the refrigerator to get it, he said, “There are better ways to start your day, you know.”
Harrison smacked his forehead and laughed. “I just need to wash down these fantastic eggs with something, cutie. It can’t hurt.”
Morton set the bottle of vodka down on the table and he sat down again. “That’s what you think. I’ve seen what drinking can do.”
Harrison leaned forward and stared at him. “What happened?”
Morton didn’t want to get into a deep discussion about anything this personal so soon. He just looked down at his coffee and shrugged. “My dad was an alcoholic, and my other dad never said anything. He was the enabler. I lost both parents in an accident that could have been avoided if my one dad hadn’t been drunk.”
“That must have been hard for you,” Harrison said.
Morton shrugged again. “I survived. I’m tougher than I look.”
“Well I can promise you I never drink and drive,” Harrison said. Then he started laughing. “I have people I pay who drive me around so I can drink.”
It was such an obtuse comment, Morton couldn’t help but smile. He was a bad boy, and he seemed so proud of it. He looked up at him and said, “You’re an idiot sometimes.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“But you’re honest, too.”
This time Harrison’s head went down and he frowned. “It’s my biggest flaw. It gets me into trouble, especially these days. My manager shakes when I go near social media.”
“Well, no one’s perfect.”
“You are,” Harrison said. “Everything about you is perfect.”
Morton smiled and took a sip of coffee and his eyes opened wide. “This coffee is terrible. Why didn’t you say something? It tastes like mud.” He must have been too preoccupied watching Harrison text while he’d been making the coffee.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. The vodka helps.”
“Well for God’s sake be honest about that,” Morton said. He stood up to throw the coffee in the sink and start another pot. “I’ll make more.”
Harrison wiped his beard with a napkin and stood up. “Don’t bother. There’s no time. Just leave everything and go get dressed. There’s a car picking us up in a few minutes to take us to the airport. I’m taking you somewhere today.”
Morton set the coffee pot on the counter and blinked. “I can’t just leave everything like this. I don’t even know you. You didn’t even ask if I want to go with you. You just assumed I’d go running off with you like some teenage groupie.”
Harrison walked over to where he was standing by the sink and put his arms around him. He kissed him on the mouth and pushed him up against the counter. When he stopped kissing, he looked into his eyes and said, “I’d really like you to go somewhere with me today. Now get dressed.”
Morton smiled and shrugged. “Well, you still didn’t ask me. But I can be ready in about 15 minutes.” He saw no point in playing games or pretending to be coy and innocent.
Then he turned and ran toward the bedroom, leaving the kitchen a total mess without thinking twice. He didn’t even know where Harrison was taking him, and he didn’t care at that point. For once, he was listening to that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him not to do something. This time it was telling him to go with Harrison, and to live his life.
Chapter Five
Morton was the kind of man who usually showed up early for an appointment. He also showed up early for work, for parties and even meeting friends at the movies. He would start planning in advance so that he could time everything just right in order to arrive exactly on time. Instead, though, he usually over planned everything he did and wound up standing around waiting at least a half hour too early. Sometimes, especially for parties, he would have to circle the block 10 times or more just so he wouldn’t be the first to arrive at a party. It’s a good thing he didn’t get invited to that many parties because it would have been too tedious to keep up with all the planning he did ahead of time.
So when Harrison told him to get dressed that morning, he wasn’t sure what to wear. He didn’t even know where they were going for that matter. It was so far off from his normal Sunday routine which consisted of doing his laundry and taking a long walk in the park, that he had to take deep breaths and concentrate so he wouldn’t wind up wearing something totally ridiculous that would embarrass Harrison.
He pulled a pair of black skinny jeans from the top shelf in his closet, and pulled them up over a black thong. He’d never liked wearing underwear, but he felt so cheap and sloppy when he didn’t wear it that it could ruin his entire day. Thongs had been the perfect compromise, physically and mentally.
Then he yanked a white T-shirt from another shelf and pulled that over his head. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with a white T-shirt. There was nothing anyone could say about a plain white T-shirt.
“The car is here,” Harrison shouted from the living room.
“I’ll be right there,” Morton said, as he scrambled to the bed so he could put on a pair of black socks and brown leather quarter boots.
After that, he grabbed a brown belt that matched his boots, a classic black leather biker jacket, and brown leather satchel he carried everywhere. Friends joked around and called the satchel his “purse,” but he didn’t pay attention to them. It wasn’t a fashi
on statement, it had nothing to do with gender, and it wasn’t anything he carried to impress anyone. For as organized as he tried to be, Morton had a tendency to lose things like keys, money, his phone, and sun glasses. If he kept everything he needed in a satchel he never had to worry about losing it again. It was also great for carrying snacks around. He’d always lived under the rule “you never know” and he liked to be prepared for anything that might pop up in an emergency.
He took one long look in the mirror and moved his short brown hair around a little with his fingers. He’d been born lucky in the sense that he had slightly wavy hair. If he kept it short and didn’t fuss around with it too much, it usually fell into place just right. His hair looked okay, and so did his outfit. The skinny jeans were a little tight, but that’s how everyone else wore them. Besides, there wasn’t time to change into anything else. The only piece of jewelry he wore was a watch that had belonged to his dad, and he grabbed that from the top of a dresser on his way back to the living room.
He entered the living room at the exact moment Harrison looked up from his phone. Harrison smiled and said, “Wow.”
Morton stopped moving and said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Harrison said. “You look even more amazing than you did last night.”
“I was in drag last night. Remember? I was wearing a mini-dress and black high heels.”
“Of course I remember,” Harrison said. “I don’t forget anything about you. I just mean that you look fantastic in that outfit, too.”
“It’s just jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Well that’s what makes it even more amazing.”
“You’re full of crap,” Morton said.
