Personal Challenges

by K. C. Wells

  Colin locked gazes with him. “Sink down on it. Want to be balls deep inside you.”

  Ed nodded, feeling the blunt head press against his ring, feeling it stretch him as his hole let him in, as he sank all the way down, until Colin’s heat filled him to the hilt. “Oh, Gawd,” he moaned, relishing the sensation of being full. He became still, waiting for the burn to fade, waiting to give Colin a sign that he was ready.

  Colin’s gaze hadn’t shifted. “Tell me I can move. Tell me when you’re ready,” he asked breathlessly.

  Ed’s breathing sped up, and his heartbeat raced. He leaned forward, until his face was inches from Colin’s. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that belied the urgent desire building slowly inside him. “Love you,” he whispered.

  Colin reached up to caress his cheek. “Love you too.” He began to move, tilting his hips to slide in and out of Ed’s body. It was a slow motion, so fucking gentle that Ed wanted to say something, to demand that Colin fuck him—until he realized what was happening.

  This was no lightning fuck, no desperate, frantic coupling, no race toward orgasm.

  This was his lover, his beautiful man, making love to him.

  “Oh, yeah,” Ed sighed, sitting up and leaning back, his weight on his arms as he lifted himself up and down, shuddering as Colin’s long, thick shaft filled him. He reached back to touch it as it slid into him, feeling how his hole was stretched around its girth. Reaching further, he cupped Colin’s sac, gently squeezing his balls. Colin’s low cries spoke of how much he was loving this.

  Ed bent over him to kiss his furry chest, before laying a trail of kisses to his pits, nuzzling there, letting Colin’s scent fill his nostrils. “Fuck, you smell good.” Colin’s hands were on his head and back, stroking him, all the while moving in and out of him at a languid pace, Ed rocking back and forth on that hard cock. Colin cupped his nape and drew him into a kiss, still caressing him, one hand sliding down Ed’s body to squeeze his arse.

  Their foreheads touched, and Colin closed his eyes. “Love how it feels to be inside you, to feel like we’re totally connected.”

  “We are connected.” Ed sat up, his hands on Colin’s chest, and rocked a little faster. “You’re inside me, an’ I’m not talkin’ about yer dick.” He placed over his heart. “You’re in ’ere.” He touched his temple. “An’ ’ere. There’s no place I could go to get away from yer, because you never leave me. An’ I wouldn’t want it any other fuckin’ way.”

  Colin shifted, sitting up, his cock slipping from Ed’s body, and kissed Ed’s chest while he slid his hands over Ed’s arse. He paused and locked gazes with Ed. “I don’t tell you enough how much I love you. How glad I am that you’re in my life. How happy it makes me to know you’re going to be my husband.”

  “An’ that makes those times when you do tell me, all the sweeter.” Ed held Colin’s face between his hands. “You don’t ’ave to be forever tellin’ me you love me for me to know it.” He held up his left hand, where Colin’s ring gleamed on his finger. “This tells me. Every single day.”

  That earned him a kiss, one that started out slow and tender, but then Colin plunged his tongue deep, and Ed groaned into the kiss. Colin parted them and smiled. “Face down.”

  Ed responded swiftly, lowering himself to the mattress and grabbing hold of its edge. He spread his legs wide and Colin moved to lie between them, guiding his dick between Ed’s cheeks to penetrate him once more. Colin slid his arms beneath Ed’s body, anchoring himself, and began to rock into him, gently at first, but then building momentum, until loud moans poured from bother of them. The only sound in the room was their combined breaths, harsh and erratic, as Colin pushed into him, driving his cock deep into Ed’s channel.

  “Gawd, yeah.” Ed pushed back against him, the two of them moving together, keeping pace. Colin sank all the way into him and Ed bucked beneath him, rising to meet each thrust, until his balls tightened and he knew they were there.

  Colin grabbed hold of his waist and held on as he rose to his knees, bringing Ed with him, his dick still wedged inside him. Ed groaned as Colin reached around him to grasp his cock, tugging it, working it, all the while sliding into him, one hand gripping Ed’s hip.

  “Now,” Ed gasped as he came, body shaking, his dick sending out creamy ropes of spunk over the sheet. Colin kissed his neck and shoulders, his hips still moving, only now more erratically. “Come on, Col. Wanna feel you come.”

  Colin gave a harsh groan and thrust deep, his fingers digging into the fleshy part of Ed’s hip. He shivered, his body tight against Ed’s, every ripple through him easily discernible.

  They knelt like that for a while, Colin’s arms wrapped around Ed’s waist and chest, the pair of them locked together while their mutual orgasms melted away. Ed turned his head for the kiss he knew awaited him, and Colin’s lips met his, warm and soft. “It’s a good thing you’re ’oldin’ me up,” Ed said with a chuckle. “I’m as limp as a wet rag.”

  Colin kissed his neck and trailed his fingers over Ed’s nipples, making him shudder. “And I’m hungry.”

  Ed laughed. “Well, you won’t get fed if you don’t take yer cock out of me arse.”

  Colin eased out of him, and as always, Ed felt its loss instantly, as if part of him was no longer there. He shuffled on the bed until they faced each other, and pulled Colin into his arms, holding him close.

  “We have all night to hold each other,” Colin whispered. The loud grumbling of his stomach was a comical addition to the statement.

  Ed gave him one last kiss on the lips. “I’m gonna ’old you to that.”

  A night of snuggling on the couch sounded perfect. Just what both of them needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  July 1st

  “Hey, time for a break,” Blake called from the kitchen. “Lunch is nearly ready.”

  Will saved his work and then stretched his arms up high above his head. The book was progressing well—at least, that was what Blake told him. Much as Will loved his husband, he was more inclined to listen to his beta readers, who were also reading it chapter by chapter. He knew Blake would always tell him if something stank, but he was inclined to be a little blinkered sometimes. His betas always shot from the hip. They loved his books, but they told him what he needed to hear, not necessarily what he wanted to hear. Will had no time for readers who told him everything he wrote was ‘lovely’: he wanted readers who could be honest with him, even if the truth hurt.

  He closed the file and then got up from his desk. “Are you going to try again?” Two days previously they’d given Nathan his first taste of pureed vegetables, mixed with a little formula. Judging by the look on his face, Nathan hadn’t been impressed.

  When he got to the kitchen, Nathan was already in his high chair, waving his little arms at Blake, who was stirring something in a bowl. Will sat at the table next to Nathan and kissed his head. “So what’s he having this time?”

  “Pureed sweet potatoes.” Blake filled the small plastic spoon and then held it up to Nathan. “You’ll like this, sweetheart.” He ate the puree, smiling the whole time. “Actually, this tastes really good. It reminds me of that roasted sweet potato soup you make—you know, the one so thick you can stand a spoon upright in it?” Blake grinned, before taking another mouthful.

  “Hey, it’s Nathan’s lunch you’re eating,” Will protested.

  “There’s plenty. And besides, watch him when I eat.”

  Will watched the way Nathan’s eyes followed Blake’s every move.

  “See that?” Blake gazed at their little boy, his blue eyes warm. “Remember how Sophie used to try and steal the spoon from us when we did this?”

  “Especially if it was pureed fruit,” Will added, smiling. After two or three more mouthfuls, Nathan was gesturing toward the spoon, his forehead creased. “Better give him some, Blake.” When Nathan slapped his hands on the plastic tray in front of him, Will laughed. “I think that was Nathan-speak for ‘Feed me, Papa!’” A wave of sorrow ov
ertook him, and his throat tightened.

  “Babe? What is it?”

  He should have known Blake’s eyes missed nothing.

  Will got up from the table and went over to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. He took a long drink before facing Blake, making an effort to appear normal. “It’s nothing.” He forced a smile. “Now feed our ravenous little boy.”

  Blake quirked his eyebrows. “One, he’s hardly ravenous, and two—and a far more important point in my book—why are you lying to me?” He held the spoon to Nathan’s lips, a faint smile crossing his face when Nathan sucked it into his mouth, making a cute little noise. “I think sweet potato gets the thumbs up.” He raised his chin to regard Will. “I’ve put a quiche in the oven for us. If you could rustle up a salad, that would be good.”

  Will nodded, relieved to have something with which to occupy himself. “Sure.” He went over to the fridge and pulled out all the ingredients. As he tore off handfuls of lettuce and dropped them into a glass bowl, he tried to push aside his earlier reflections, hoping that Blake would forget whatever it was he thought he’d seen in Will’s expression.

  Yeah, right.

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Blake spoke quietly.

  Will closed his eyes, his fingers wrapped around the knife handle. The ache in his heart was still there, try as he might to escape its reality. “Sometimes I forget,” he said softly.

  Blake remained silent for a moment, and the only sounds in the room were the whirr of the electric oven and Nathan’s low hums of appreciation as he ate. “Don’t stop,” Blake urged him at last.

  Will swallowed. “I wake up some mornings and I go into Nathan’s room. I stand there, staring at him while he sleeps, and he’s so fucking beautiful it makes me ache inside. I see the mobile hanging above his cot, and I stretch out my hand to turn it on, so it can play that little tune. Because I’ve forgotten that Nathan can’t hear it.” He opened his eyes and stared out at the garden beyond. “How can I forget that? And then it all comes flooding back, and I remember that I have to smile and let him see my face. I think about the months to come, and how I’ll have to start using signs for things like milk and eat and sleep, and…” He ground to a halt, unable to get out another word.

  Blake’s soft sigh brought him back into the kitchen, into the present.

  “It isn’t easy, is it? To think of him as being normal? I know, babe, believe me.”

  Slowly Will turned to face him, shocked to see Blake’s eyes glistening.

  Blake looked from Will to Nathan. “Sometimes I just want to forget what’s coming and simply enjoy him as a baby.”

  Relief crashed through Will, and he nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes. Oh God, exactly.” He strode across the kitchen to stand behind Blake’s chair, bent over and wrapped his arms around Blake, crossing them over his chest, his face buried in Blake’s neck. “I just feel like I should be doing something every day to get ready, whether it’s learning to sign, or reading up on how to communicate with a deaf child, or listening to experts… Just… something.”

  Blake’s hand covered his. “And the next time you feel like that, you tell me, okay? Because we are both in this—together. And there’s Sophie, and Ed and Colin, and Rick and Angelo, Lizzie and Dave, Peter…. Fuck, babe, there are so many of our friends who want to be a part of this little boy’s life.” Blake grasped Will’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his fingers. “We can do this, Will. You got that? We can do this, but only if we work together.” He locked gazes with Will. “You’re my strength, sweetheart. You’re my sanctuary, my refuge, but it works both ways. I’m all those things and more—for you.”

  Nathan let out a gurgle that made them jump. Blake laughed and wiped his eyes. “And that was Nathan-speak for ‘Why has the food stopped, Papa and Daddy?’

  “Let me feed him?” Will asked. “You can finish the salad.”

  “Okay.” Blake handed him the spoon and gave up his chair. Will sat down, before scooping up some of the puree. As he chugged it toward Nathan, like a little train, Will opened his mouth wide, trying not to laugh when Nathan copied him. “Good boy,” he praised as Nathan emptied the spoon. He smiled broadly, and Nathan’s smile matched his.

  Will glanced at Blake, who stood watching them. “He’s going to be a fast learner.”

  Blake nodded slowly. “And we’ll be ready for him.”

  Will regarded their son. “Yes, we will.”

  Of that, he was suddenly in no doubt.

  * * * * * *

  “So everything is moving along swimmingly?” Franco helped himself to another glass of water. “Venue sorted, cake ordered, suits bought, rings bought—”

  “Oh fuck,” Rick said weakly. He gaped at Angelo across the dining table. “I knew there was something we’d—”

  “Will you relax?” Angelo rolled his eyes. “They’re ordered. They just need picking up. Don’t you remember? I told you I’d take care of that.”

  “You did?” Rick shook his head. “This wedding is addling my brain.”

  Franco chuckled. “As long as you remember to turn up on the right day, everything will be fine.”

  Angelo laughed. “Seeing as there’ll be none of this ‘not seeing the groom before the wedding because it’s bad luck’ crap, I’ll make sure of it.”

  Franco tut-tutted. “Oh, now, I can’t say I approve. After all, you’re both virgins, right?” He gazed at them innocently, before bursting into laughter when they stared at him. “Relax, you two. I have no such illusions about either of you.”

  Rick snorted and Angelo fired him a warning look. “You wouldn’t be reacting like that if Mum was here. You’re a virgin, I’m a virgin, remember?”

  Franco widened his eyes. “Surely she can’t believe that. I mean, you’re nearly forty. What does she think—you have separate bedrooms? You don’t have sex?”

  Angelo huffed. “To be honest, I have no idea what she thinks, and I have no desire to find out.” He shuddered. “I mean, come on. Did you like discussing sex with your mother?”

  Franco stilled. “Actually, I was the one to bring up the subject. Not one of my better ideas, as it turned out.” He shrugged. “But that was a long time ago.” Then he grinned. “And I still have the scars.” He gave an exaggerated shudder, and Angelo laughed.

  “It must be difficult doing your job sometimes,” Rick interjected. When Franco gave him an inquiring glance, he continued. “You must hear a lot of prisoners talking about all kinds of things, and I’m pretty sure sex is on the list of topics.”

  “Why must that be difficult?” Franco asked, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

  “Well, you being celibate.”

  Franco chuckled. “I may be celibate, but that doesn’t mean I’m a complete innocent.” When Rick stared at him, he laughed. “What is it, Rick? An ex-priest who is also a sexual being is not dreamed of in your philosophy?”

  Rick flushed. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions.”

  Franco’s smile was gentle. “No need to apologize. You’re not the first to do so, and I doubt you’ll be the last. And to answer the question you didn’t quite get around to asking me, yes, the men I work with do tend to talk a lot about sex. Sometimes I think they try to shock me, others because it’s a release for them. I sit there and listen, and try not to react, but sometimes I admit it is difficult.” He cleared his throat. “Enough about me. Everything is going well?”

  “It is,” Angelo assured him. He was finally beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. “And we really must thank you for putting us onto Anthony. That man is a godsend.” Suddenly the word seemed inappropriate. “If you get my meaning,” he hastened to add.

  Franco’s gentle smile didn’t alter. “On the contrary, I think it’s the perfect word for him. Though there are occasions when I wonder exactly what God’s purpose was in letting our paths cross after so many years.”

  “Isn’t God sharing that titbit?” Rick teased
.

  To Angelo’s surprise, Franco’s smile faltered. “Let’s just say he’s keeping quiet on this one.”

  Angelo wasn’t sure what to make of the enigmatic reply. “Well, he certainly charmed Mum. She must have mentioned him at least twice in recent calls.”

  Rick snickered. “If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re marrying me in—” He consulted his phone. “—forty-eight days, I might be concerned that she had designs on setting you up with him.” He gave Angelo a mock glare. “So don’t go getting any ideas, okay? He might be hot but you’re all mine.”

  Angelo laughed. “I think you’re safe. I have my hands full with you.” He gave Franco an apologetic glance. “Sorry about that. Rick’s first impression of Anthony was definitely X-rated.”

  Franco raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. But Rick will have to join the queue. There are quite a few men interested in Mr. Calderfield.”

  Rick gave a low whistle. “Damn. My gaydar is apparently working just fine.”

  “And here we go again, off on a tangent.” Franco gave them a hard stare. “Do you two always get distracted by sex?”

  Angelo snorted. “Only if there’s a y in the day.” Then he sighed. “My apologies. You came to dinner so we could finalize the ceremony, and all we’ve done is distract you.”

  “Again, no apologies needed.” Franco gave them an amused glance. “Although I should point out that as hosts, you leave a lot to be desired. There was some mention of coffee, I believe?” He winked and glanced pointedly at his watch. “That was only half an hour ago.”

  “Oops.” Rick got up from the table. “You two talk ceremony, I’ll go make the coffee.” As he passed behind Angelo’s chair, he kissed the top of his head. “No more distracting our guest, you.” He darted out of reach before Angelo could smack him.

  Franco laughed. “I always enjoy coming here. You are a very entertaining couple.”