“Come here,” he whispered, pulling Elliot down next to him, then pulled the top blanket over them both. Under the covers, Hem worked on untying his boots and getting his pants off, while Elliot laid next to him, his hand under Hemery’s sweatshirt, gently petting his skin, fingers soft but warm, comforting and grounding. When Hemery finally pulled off his leather coat, his shirt, and sweatshirt, he made a soft noise of protest when Elliot pulled his hand away.
“I’ll put it back when you’re ready, Hem, don’t you worry,” Elliot said as Hemery settled back down under the blanket and snuggled in close to Elliot.
“Why aren’t you cold?” Hem asked as he wrapped his arms around Elliot, his legs doing the same, his cool fingers finding only hot skin no matter where he touched.
“Part of the deal, I guess. Makes it easier under water. Don’t complain, I’m gonna keep us both warm tonight no matter how few blankets we end up with.”
And then they were chest to chest, their stomachs and cocks brushing up against each other, each touch on Hemery’s dick like electricity shooting through him, making him gasp into Elliot’s mouth.
Elliot reached between them and grasped both of their dicks at the same time, pulling and rubbing both together.
“Jesus H. Christ, El, I’m not gonna-“
“Are you ready?”
“I, wait, what?”
“I asked you to come inside me. To fuck me. You ready?”
“Are YOU ready? I haven’t-“
“You will. I know you, you will.”
“I want to. So bad. So, so bad.”
“Then show me.” Elliot took one more pull on their cocks and released them, rolling over to his stomach, his head pillowing on his crossed arms. “I’ve been waiting a long time.”
Reaching for his coat to find the condoms and lube he’d stashed there, Hemery tried to focus on anything other than the idea of coming inside Elliot. Feeling him hot and tight around Hem’s cock was almost too much.
His fingers scrambled to pop the lid on the bottle of lube, and he positioned himself near Elliot’s ass, careful to keep them both under the blanket. He pushed gently at Elliot’s thighs to get him to spread them just a bit. Pressing out a reasonable amount along his fingers, Hemery started rubbing around Elliot’s hole, dipping a finger in, pressing and massaging, stretching his ass enough to take a single finger first before he could even think about using his cock.
Elliot groaned at the first touches, pressing himself back against Hemery’s finger, his breath hitching.
“Alright, one step at a time, babe. I’ll get us there.” Hemery had no idea where this confidence was coming from. He had exactly zero experience with gay sex, other than the dream blow jobs that he’d been trading with Elliot for the past few years. Everything else came from porn and really good fanfiction.
But the idea of making love to Elliot was powerful and erotic all by itself, and Hemery found himself concentrating so hard on making it good for Elliot that he almost forgot about his own aching erection.
He added more lube as he finally slipped his whole finger into Elliot’s ass, getting a sharp hiss and then a groan from El, who pushed back again on his finger. Hemery twisted gently, wriggling his finger to stretch and find Elliot’s prostate, which he clearly succeeded at based on the twitch and whine coming from Elliot, his back curving, entire body shuddering.
“Yes, Hem, sweet mother of… keep doing that, whatever it was. Holy shit!”
Hemery ran his free hand down Elliot’s side, trying to gentle him, eventually pressing his hand around to Elliot’s chest, rubbing and twisting his nipple. Finger still inside, he leaned forward to run his tongue around Elliot’s entrance, twisting his finger a bit sharper. Elliot’s foot kicked out as he hissed and moaned.
“Fuck, Hem, you’re killing me here.” Elliot’s breath was short, panting, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds.
Hemery slicked up a second finger, still licking at El’s ass, and pulled the first finger out. Pressing both fingers together, he slid them as gently as he could and twisted gently, Elliot writhing on his hand.
“Jesus, Hem, I can’t… I can’t…”
“You can. You asked me to do this, and I know you can take it. I know you want to.” Where the hell had that come from?
Ignoring his own cock, focusing everything on Elliot, Hemery scissored his fingers to help stretch, then twisted to hit El’s prostate again and again, not enough to make him come, but enough that Elliot was practically sobbing into the picnic blanket.
“Do it, do it, do it, I can’t wait anymore, you’re going to kill me, do it…” El’s voice cracked with each word, his face twisted up in an almost painful ecstasy. Just looking at him, so close and yet so far from what he wanted, made Hemery’s chest ache. He’d made it to three fingers, and that was about as far as he was going to get before one of them came too soon.
Pulling his fingers out gently, Hemery reached for the condom package and pulled out a square. He knew you weren’t supposed to tear them open with teeth but his fingers were so slick with lube that he couldn’t do anything else. Delicately, ever so delicately, he bit the edge of the package and tore the foil, allowing him to pull out the rubber, rolling it down his cock. Just touching his dick almost made him come, he was so amped up, but the pressure from the condom actually was helping to keep him from shooting off.
Hemery squeezed a whole handful of lube out and slathered it on his cock, catching Elliot’s eyes as he turned back to see what the hell was going on.
“You ready?” Hemery asked, moving himself into a good position to finally, finally, slide into Elliot’s ass.
“Since forever,” Elliot choked out. He reached back with one hand and Hemery leaned forward to entwine their fingers, his still slick with lube, El’s shaking from adrenaline and excitement. Hemery balanced himself on his forearm, guiding his cock to Elliot’s entrance, pressing slowly, feeling the head of his dick breaching the tight ring of muscle there, finally pushing through, sliding home.
“Holy shit,” Hemery heard himself say as he pressed farther and farther inside, Elliot keening beneath him, his fingers tightening around Hemery’s. “El, you okay?”
“Oh my god, Hem, don’t stop now, you’re gonna… gonna kill me, Jesus.”
Hemery wasn’t so sure that Elliot wasn’t going to kill HIM. The heat, the tightness, it was so much, almost too much, and then Hemery tried moving, pushing in and pulling back out, which made it even worse. Better. He was having a hard time figuring things out. His brain wasn’t working anymore, the input from his body too much to handle.
He needed more leverage, the angle not quite right, so Hemery shifted his hips, rolling the both of them to the side, planting his right foot on the blanket to give him as much flat surface to push off against as he could find on the beach in March. He thrust his hips faster, Elliot’s hand gripping his even harder.
“This okay?” Hemery grunted out, trying to smooth each thrust, his hips wanting to go faster than Hemery really thought was safe or smart.
“Please don’t stop,” Elliot whined, his voice high and tight. “Please, keep going. Keep going!”
“Okay. Okay.” Hemery stopped worrying for a minute. Elliot would tell him if he didn’t like something, he was more and more convinced of that, and he knew that Elliot was just as desperate for them to be together like this as Hemery. That didn’t mean Hem could take advantage, but he needed to listen to Elliot, his words and his body, and give him what he said he wanted.
Hem could feel himself getting closer, could feel the orgasm traveling up his spine. He didn’t want to come by himself, and he didn’t want to leave Elliot behind. Putting all of his weight on his left forearm, he reached around with his right arm to catch Elliot’s cock, pre-come rubbing all over the blanket, still enough there to wet Hemery’s hand, to make it slightly slick. Hem began jerking Elliot off, gentle pulls but a tight, if well lubed, grip, and he could feel Elliot tighten around h
is cock, still thrusting with abandon in Elliot’s ass.
“I’m close, El. I’m close, are you-“
“Oh, yeah, keep going, don’t stop. Fuck me, Hem, just keep-“
And that was it, Hem couldn’t hold it back anymore, and it was like everything in him was exploding, dissolving into a million tiny pieces. He’d thrust in hard, one last time, and his cock was still pulsing as he tried to catch his breath.
Elliot fell over the edge right after him, twisting on Hemery’s cock, his hand still gripping Hem’s, still twisted with Hemery’s fingers. He arched back against Hemery, his face suddenly in just the right position for Hemery to kiss, which he leaned forward to do.
Elliot kissed back for a second before he started laughing.
“Oh my god, Hem, did we just do that on a beach in fucking March?” He wheezed out a few times, sounding like a runner finishing a race.
“That’s the first thing you want to say to me?” Hem huffed out, still trying to get his breathing under control.
“My brain is fried, I don’t know what else to tell you. Other than I love you.” The playful tone was gone in an instant, replaced with the deepest sincerity. Hemery pulled his hand away from Elliot’s so he could remove the condom, and rearrange them in the blankets. He wanted to curl into Elliot, to wrap his body around El’s until they both fell asleep. In a less than smooth movement, he finally got the condom off and tied, and set aside in the sand.
“I love you, too. And I miss you. So much.” Hemery stopped himself, not wanting to make Elliot feel anything other than the post-coital glow they were currently in, but he also wanted to know what was supposed to happen once the night was over. Was Elliot going to stay on land? Was he planning to go back to the water, and if so, then what?
It was like Elliot could read his mind, or at least his face.
Hemery said nothing, just kidded the top of his head, and pulled him in tighter.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Hem. It only works once a year, in either direction. That’s why we left when we did. That’s why I visit you when I do. If I don’t go back tonight, I can’t go back for a whole year. My mom will… lose her mind.”
“So, you have to go back.” Hemery said it, wanting to throw up, choosing to curl in even closer.
“Yeah.” There was a long pause.
“But you don’t want to.”
“Wanting and needing are two different things.”
“I know.”
“What if I ask you to stay?”
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
“Just know that I want you to stay. Forever, I want you to stay. Just… maybe next year.” It broke him to say it, Hemery’s heart shattering into a million pieces. How he’d ever let Elliot go after tonight, he didn’t know.
A dark, uncomfortable part of himself wondered about taking Elliot’s coat and hiding it, his brain throwing all sorts of reasons why that would be a good idea at him. It made him want to puke. He could never force Elliot to stay, that would be as bad as Elliot’s father and Hemery would rather be alone for a thousand years than ever make the same choices as that man.
A better part of himself offered up a different idea.
“What if we make a plan?” Hemery asked, brain whirling.
“What kind of plan?”
“Take the next year to get things taken care of with your mom, and her people, your people, whatever. And next year, you can come home. With me. I’ll clear things up here.” A whole year. Jesus. Hemery wasn’t sure he could survive another year after tonight.
“Will it be okay?” There was a whole lot in that question, a lot of things that Elliot didn’t know because he’d been gone, that he didn’t understand because why would he? But that was nothing in the grand scheme of things.
“Yeah, babe, it will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Okay. Okay. We’ll spend tonight, and then, a year from now, you’ll come and get me.”
“And take you home.” Hemery said it with force, his voice loud across the empty beach.
“Home. I like the sound of it.”
“Me, too.”
They fell asleep wrapped around each other, warm despite the March chill, both peaceful for the first time in years.
When Hemery woke in the morning, he was stiff all over but still warm, tucked carefully into the flannel blankets. And he was alone.
He’d cleaned up the beach, throwing about his trash and the condom, folding the blankets after shaking off the sand. It was Sunday, and he was supposed to have Palm Sunday brunch with his father. But with all that had happened, he’d rather stab himself in the neck a few times than try to spend even ten minutes with his dad, who would know something was up, could weasel information out of him better than most trained detectives.
Hemery’d been crying off and on since he realized Elliot was gone, so he filled his hand with water from the water bottle in the truck and rinsed his face a few times to get rid of the evidence. His face felt cooler, but his eyes were puffy and he kept sniffling. His father would either know that he had been crying or would think that he’d started up a new drug habit.
He wasn’t sure which one was worse.
He drove home at exactly the speed limit, the trip back from Sleepy Bear Dunes windy but uneventful. Even taking his time, he still ended up at his father’s house with plenty of brunching opportunity left.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pocketing the keys and locking the doors. He walked around back to the kitchen door, where he’d be less likely to get any shit for tracking in sand, and turned the knob.
“Dad, I’m here. Sorry I’m-“ Hemery stopped midsentence and let his mouth drop open. Sitting at the kitchen table, eating from a plate full of bacon and eggs, was Elliot.
Clothed, well groomed Elliot, who was smiling like a lunatic.
“Look who the cat dragged in, Hem! Isn’t he a sight for sore eyes?” Hemery’s father was glowing from behind his coffee cup, his smile all teeth.
“Yeah,” Hemery said, voice catching. “He sure is. How-“
“I had a few hours before my window closed,” Elliot said. “And I realized that I couldn’t wait another year. Not one more. So, I told my mom I was leaving, and, well, here I am.”
“For good?” Hemery breathed out, unable to make more than a whisper of sound.
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
With that, Hemery pushed himself forward as Elliot stood up from the table, drawn to each other like magnets. Their bodies crashed together as they met in the middle of the room, hands and mouths pressing against each other.
“I love you,” Hemery whispered in Elliot’s ear.
“I know,” he whispered back.
* * *
THE END
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my editor, Jamie Wyman, who did much of the editing work on this piece. Any mistakes, including poor grammar, run on sentences, or oft repeated words are all my own doing and not to be a reflection on her work.
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Thank you to the Paranormal Easter writing group for being wonderful cheerleaders, even when I wasn’t cheering myself on.
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To all my friends in the Romance Writers of America, you have taught me so much and I still have so much to learn. Thank you for being open and willing to share.
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To my husband and my daughter, who put up with me hiding away for hours and hours to type out these words that don’t always seem to go together. I appreciate the support and the love. Thank you!
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To my mother, who has always been my biggest fan.
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To my father, who tries and doesn’t always succeed, but I appreciate it any way.
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I love you all. Thank you for all your help and support!
About the Author
Alison Diem is a writer of intricate stories involving history, the paranormal, adventure, magic, mystery, murder, f
antasy, steampunk, creatures that may (or may not) be real and any combination thereof. Also, dragons.
She admires the work of many and has learned much from every book she’s ever read, even the really, really bad ones. Especially the really, really bad ones.
She does not like Twilight. At all.
She lives in Ypsilanti, MI with her husband, Bear, and her daughter, Little Bear.
She is also very, very tall. You know, for a girl.
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Follow Alison on social media:
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http://www.twitter.com/miriad
http://www.facebook.com/miriad
http://www.alisondiem.com
Note From the Publisher
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Happy Reading,
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A Paranormal Easter: 14 Paranormal & Fantasy Romance Novellas Page 67
