Tipping the Balance

by Koehler, Christopher

  Brad stopped, resting his forehead on Drew’s, really on Drew’s head as he was so much taller.

  When Drew moved for his lips, Brad said, “I’m sorry.”

  Drew pulled back a little. “For what? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry,” Brad repeated, whispering. “It’s just… weird, sometimes.”

  “Weird?” Drew said, and Brad could tell he was hurt.

  “Not bad weird… just weird. Different, I guess. I never thought—” Brad caught himself before he could say he never thought he’d feel this way about another person, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. He took a breath and tried again. “You weren’t wrong earlier. This is hard for me. Dude, you’re a dude. I’m a dude. We’re kissing.”

  “Or we were,” Drew said, pulling back a little to look in Brad’s eyes.

  “I mean, if I’d knocked up the last woman I did, she probably wouldn’t even be showing, okay?” Brad said.

  Drew winced. “So not a visual I needed.”

  “Sorry,” Brad chuckled weakly, “but it’s the truth.”

  “What did it this time?” Drew said.

  “Stubble,” Brad said.

  “I can shave more often,” Drew said.

  Brad shook his head. “No. I don’t want you to. It’s different from anyone I’ve ever been with. It’s one of the things I like.”

  “But you stopped kissing me,” Drew pointed out.

  “It was a little weird right then,” Brad said defensively. “I didn’t say I hated it. It reminds me you’re you, that you’re a guy. Just because it’s new doesn’t mean I’m not into it.” Brad kissed him again. “Or you. Sometimes, for a while anyway, it’s gonna be hard for me.”

  Drew reached down, the first time he’d grabbed Brad’s cock so boldly. “Speaking of hard.”

  Brad groaned. He slumped against the wall, his eyes closed. “You just… you do something to me.”

  Drew captured his lips, and he surrendered them willingly. “Not nearly what I want to do,” Drew breathed.

  “Yeah? What’d you want to do?” Brad said, panting as Drew sucked on his neck.

  “Promise you won’t freak out?” Drew said as he palmed Brad through his pants. “My cock, your mouth; your cock, my ass.”

  Brad’s mouth went dry. Fuck. That was what Drew wanted. He wanted to fuck. On the one hand, Brad really liked what Drew was doing to him through his pants and would bet good money the man had even better ideas when they were naked.

  But that meant sex. With another man. Not making out with a guy, fucking him. That was the final nail in the hetero coffin, wasn’t it? He couldn’t pretend to be straight anymore, because if he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that since Drew, he hadn’t looked at a woman that way.

  “It’s okay, Brad,” Drew said, reading his silence. He kissed Brad gently on the cheek. “That’s just what I dream of. I’m fine with the way things are. I get that there’s a difference between making out and a cock in your mouth.”

  Brad coughed. “Yeah.”

  “I can wait,” Drew said.

  Brad didn’t know what to say, so he kissed him again.

  But when Drew said, “My cock, your mouth”? His throat might’ve gone dry, but his mouth started to water. He wanted it. He wanted Drew’s cock. He didn’t know quite what to do with it, but that was changing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Drew liked to work out, and he liked to stay fit. Sure, he knew he looked good, even hot in his better moments, but the habit of physical fitness he’d picked up as an undergraduate when he’d been on the cross-country team persisted. Since he’d graduated, he’d become a bit of a gym rat. His full-service gym allowed him to work out around his other commitments but still keep fitness a priority. But every once in a while, he just had to get outside. Sometimes he biked, sometimes he swam, and sometimes, when the weather wasn’t too terribly hot, like that September afternoon, he ran.

  Running allowed him to think without needing to focus too hard on what he was doing. It was one foot in front of the other over and over again, and it freed his mind. He needed to think that afternoon.

  He and Brad had settled into a steady routine after that afternoon at their latest reno. At times, he marveled that it was “their” latest anything. But sure enough, he and Brad had thus far made a go of it. He knew not to get too far ahead of himself.

  And not just professionally. What he hadn’t told Nick when he’d badgered him so relentlessly for Brad’s contact information was that in his fantasy world, his business partner would be his life-partner too. Drew would sell houses, his partner would renovate them. They’d work in the same industry, but not right on top of each other. They’d save that for after-hours. It struck Drew as the best of both worlds.

  And that was what brought Drew to the trails along the American River rather than the treadmills at the gym. He liked Brad. A lot. Available evidence suggested Brad liked him too. After all, Brad was coming out of the closet. They’d made out hot and heavy a number of times, and if it had been someone else, Drew knew they’d have fucked by now.

  That they hadn’t was a testimony to Drew’s patience. He knew he could’ve had Brad naked and begging that first afternoon on his couch, but seduction under such circumstances would’ve bordered on abusive. That wasn’t who he wanted to be, and if he’d given in, he’d have lost the man who gave him those shy, sweet smiles after his races. He’d have lost the fun he’d already had with Brad, the pleasure in just being around him. No quick fuck was worth that.

  Drew thought as he pounded the pavement that he and Brad could be more, and that was why he was so patient. He’d had plenty of sex. He’d never had the “more” with anyone. He wanted the more with Brad. He wanted to fuck him and love him both.

  He’d started this venture with the plan of luring Brad out of the closet, but it had already turned into more than he’d originally planned. He knew if he took his time and, more importantly, allowed Brad to take his own time, that he stood a good chance of realizing his whole dream of a business partner who could also be his husband. If he was patient for a while, he’d get what he wanted—Brad’s car in his garage and his cock up his ass. If he pushed, he’d scare the younger man off.

  Drew stumbled as he realized that in some ways, he already had the more. Not all of it, not even most of it, but more than he’d ever had before. He really cared for Brad, cared for him in a way that he’d only ever felt about one other person, and he and Nick just hadn’t been right for each other. They might’ve made it work after a fashion, but in hindsight and from watching Nick with Morgan, Drew understood that if they’d forced it, Nick would’ve missed out on the much better thing he had with Morgan, and he… well, his happily ever after was still up in the air.

  But Drew didn’t mind. He could be patient or at least try. He knew that was what people did when they loved someone. He’d do his best to wait. Brad was worth it.

  It was Saturday night, just eight days after Brad had started working for Drew. While he knew the job, being in charge of it was unfamiliar territory, and he was still nervous every afternoon when he headed over to the job site after putting in a morning at that stupid subdivision.

  But he’d deal. The cash flow was less than he was used to, but then he didn’t have that many expenses to begin with, since he drove an old beater, even if it was a Lexus, and he still lived at home.

  More and more, Brad worked for the weekends, because that was when he saw Drew. Sure, Drew dropped by the flip whenever he could, but despite Drew’s weekend work schedule, they still had Saturday and Sunday nights. They hadn’t been going out very long, but already they had a pattern. Brad liked patterns. They made life simpler. They’d grab some dinner and then head back to Drew’s place for some sofa time. Brad liked sofa time.

  Actually, Brad realized, feeling more than a little guilty about it, they didn’t go out much at all.

  Like that night. Brad met Drew at his place. Drew drove them to a restaurant, a
nd now they were heading back to Drew’s house. Other than the act of eating, they hadn’t really gone out. No movies. No more games, not since that first one Randall had grudgingly given him the tickets for, no nothing.

  Brad was kind of ashamed to admit it, but he was nervous being seen in public with a gay man. But smart enough to realize it was about him, not Drew. Drew was who he was, and that was one of the things he liked about Drew. Drew didn’t pretend. He was out there, living his life.

  Brad was still trying to figure out what his own life was, but he was increasingly aware that he was more like Drew than he was like the friends he’d had at CalPac. But it still made him uncomfortable. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the “g-word,” not yet, not applied to himself. Drew was gay. Dogs and cats knew Drew was gay.

  Brad knew he was gay, or least inclined in that direction. His cock told him that every time he saw Drew. Every time he kissed Drew, it stood at attention as if to salute and say, “Ready for action, sir!”

  That was where they were heading. Sex. With a man. With Drew. But Brad just couldn’t, not yet. Not for what it meant.

  Brad could already tell that where Drew was concerned, there would be no experimenting. Sex with Drew would change him. He wasn’t ready for that change. Every time he thought about it, he recoiled. He didn’t like all this thinking.

  But Drew’d been so patient, never once pushing him. He—

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Drew said from the driver’s seat. “Everything okay?”

  Brad looked over at him and grinned. This man, this suave, handsome, sophisticated man, thought he was worth the time of day. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “About what?” Drew asked.

  “Kissing you,” Brad said, because there was no way he could say any of this to Drew when he could barely articulate it to himself.

  They stopped at a light, and Brad leaned over. He gave Drew a quick peck on the cheek. “Mission accomplished!”

  Drew shook his head. “You aren’t even remotely done kissing me tonight.”

  That made Brad warm all over. “Good,” he said softly.

  And before much longer, they’d turned onto Drew’s street and pulled into the garage.

  Brad followed Drew closely into the house. After that first afternoon at the reno, after Nick had fled and they’d almost gone too far, he had an idea of what his guy might like. To make up for not being brave enough to do more in public than eat out, he planned to give it to him, at least a little.

  As soon as the door into the house shut behind him, Brad grabbed Drew before he could get out of reach.

  “Wha—”

  Brad shut that off by pressing his mouth over Drew’s. Then he pushed Drew up against the door. He might be new to guys, but he knew how to be dominant. Some things just came naturally.

  Drew’s hands came to his back, rubbing him slowly through his shirt. Brad liked that, but he liked the sounds Drew made as he kissed him roughly better. Not quite whimpers, they were needy, wanting sounds.

  Brad smiled into the kiss. He’d found one of Drew’s buttons, and the sound of pushing it went right to his own cock. He kissed Drew in a way he’d never let himself before, demanding, greedy, hungry.

  He held Drew pinned against the door, kissing along Drew’s jaw, and the stubble that had broken the moment a week ago just made him hotter, each bristle a goad.

  When he reached Drew’s neck, Brad yanked the collar of Drew’s shirt open. He kissed until he found the pulse point and then sucked. Hard. “Brad,” Drew whispered.

  “Too much? Do you want me to stop?”

  “God, no,” Drew gasped.

  Drew’s knees started to buckle, but Brad had other ideas. He stood back and turned Drew around, pushing him up against the door. Drew gasped, then moaned, low and needy, thrusting his ass back against Brad’s crotch.

  “You like that, huh?” Brad breathed in his ear.

  “Uh-huh,” Drew squeaked.

  Brad grabbed Drew’s hands and held them over his head with one big paw, leaving Brad’s other hand free to maraud around to Drew’s front, grasping him around his belly, fingers pulling his shirt out of his pants.

  When Brad got his free hand up under Drew’s shirt, feeling the skin hot and smooth over his muscled abs, he moaned himself. “Damn, Drew. You feel… damn.”

  Then Brad pressed his weight against Drew’s back, harder than granite himself, feeling the slip and slide of his denim-enclosed erection over the back of Drew’s own denim-covered butt. He had to bend his legs a little, but he found his cock fit quite nicely between Drew’s ass cheeks. He shifted back and forth, rubbing across Drew’s backside. The sensation was intense. His head swam from the speed of the lust rising in his blood.

  Part of Brad’s mind thought this felt awfully like sex, but he shoved that part out of the way and kept rocking into Drew.

  Drew pushed back into him, every bit as into it as Brad. “Please,” Drew breathed.

  “Please what?” Brad rasped. He blinked several times and shook his head to clear it. “Tell me what you need.”

  Drew didn’t say anything, and then Brad smirked. He’d robbed his guy of the power of speech. He raised his free hand to hold Drew pinned.

  On impulse, Brad bit his way down Drew’s neck from behind as Drew leaned his head away for better access, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Where the neck met the shoulder, Brad stopped to suck. To mark. He pulled Drew’s skin into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, sucking hard.

  “Do it,” Drew breathed. “Mark me.”

  “Want me to claim you? Show you’re mine?” Brad grunted out.

  His efforts would leave a hickey. He wanted there to be a sign on Drew’s neck that he’d been there, even if only he and Drew knew it. But Drew’d see it every time he got dressed for a while. You’re mine, he thought, not sure he could say it aloud, not sure if Drew felt the same. You’re mine and no one else’s.

  As a blissed-out Drew approached dead weight, Brad’s arms reached their limits. He put one arm around Drew’s chest to support him as he backed away. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

  Drew looked at him, his eyes dilated with desire. “Yes, you do,” he said thickly.

  “Couch?” Brad said.

  Drew stood up. “Oh, yeah.”

  Drew pulled Brad to the long comfy sofa in the family room, the one that seemed to be the scene for all their making out. “Where were we?” Drew said, pushing Brad onto the sofa and then climbing on top of him.

  “I think I was making you forget how to talk,” Brad said. “Someone likes being shoved up against a wall.”

  “Maybe we can do that again sometime,” Drew said, moving in for a kiss.

  Brad met his kiss, and soon Drew’s tongue probed at his mouth, and he opened eagerly. It’d only been a few short minutes, but he longed to taste Drew again. The feeling, the closeness, of the other man started a tingle in his lips that raced south and made him long for more intimate contact.

  He needed to feel Drew, not just hold him. He ran his hands under Drew’s shirt, thrilling to the touch of another man’s muscled back. He’d seen the strong lats that tapered to a trim waist; now he traced it with his hands, digging the feel of skin over muscle. The women he’d been with had always lacked this hardness, and the rightness of it blew him away.

  Then Brad grew braver. When he ran his hands down Drew’s back, he didn’t stop at the waist. He worked his hands into Drew’s pants to cup that fine, fine ass in his hands. The jock in him knew what it took to get that kind of muscle in the glutes. But the horndog was the one in the driver’s seat just then, and he loved the way it felt to hold an ass cheek in each hand, kneading and grasping. Drew seemed to like it, too, based on the noises he made.

  That made it so right, so natural to pull Drew down and into him, to guide his hard cock into his own, their clothes in the way. Each grind stoked him higher and hotter.

  Then Drew pulled back, eyes dark with lust.


  “What’s wrong?” Brad said.

  “You’re not ready for sex with a man, and I’m close. You make me lose control, and I like that, but you’re not ready for it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brad whispered.

  “Don’t be.”

  “It just seems like such a huge step,” Brad said, cooling and ashamed. He looked into Drew’s eyes, but then his glance darted nervously away. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know if I can. Right now, I mean.”

  “It’s okay,” Drew said. “Really.”

  But Brad still felt terrible. “I feel like I’m letting you down, or I’m telling you you’re not good enough or something when I don’t mean that at all. I don’t feel like I’m ready for sex with a man, but I really like the things we do, and I like the way you make me feel.” He looked up at Drew. “Does that make sense?”