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by Dawn Kimberly Johnson


  “It doesn’t work like that, Mira. Looking at something from the outside is very different from navigating my own relationships. That’s… that’s—”

  “I shall give you the benefit of my years—”

  “You’re only four years older than me.”

  She held up a hand. “A lot can happen in four years. Now… tonight, for instance, I have a date. Met him at some club two weeks ago. Decent dancer. Lovely to look at. Adequate fashion sense… smart Buddy Holly glasses. Oh, and his name is Buddy!” She laughed. “He doesn’t smoke, but I can probably get him to—”

  “You want him to start—”

  “I don’t have the energy or inclination to defend myself. Therefore he’ll have to start.” Apparently it all seemed very simple to her. “What I’m getting at, love, is you need to do what’s best for you. If you want to move out, move the fuck out.”

  “What’s best for me is Eli.”

  She shook her head violently, but the towel held. “You don’t know that.” Alec began to squirm under her certainty. “Why do you think he doesn’t want to leave that house?” He didn’t say anything. “Alec? You must have some idea, dear.”

  “It’s the home he shared with Bennett,” he whispered.

  Mirabell stood and tore the towel off her head. “You shouldn’t go through life living to make someone else happy.” She ran her fingers through her reinvigorated bright red hair. “Get yours first.”

  “What if it’s Eli who makes me happy? His feelings—”

  “What about your feelings? Who takes care of those?” She snuffed out her cigarette. “Trust me. Only you can do that, Alec.” She walked out of the kitchen, shedding her robe again as she headed for her bedroom. He followed her, first stepping over the robe but then stopping, picking it up, and carrying it with him. He tossed it in a chair just inside the bedroom door while Mirabell grabbed a black lace pushup bra from her bed, stood in front of a full-length mirror, and struggled into it. She admired her petite form for a moment, smiling at how full her breasts looked in the new bra before caressing them.

  “Uh, would the three of you like to be alone?”

  Her eyes caught his in the mirror, and she grinned wickedly at him. “Pass me that little black Isabel Lu out of the closet, will you?”

  Alec went to the closet and, faced with an abundance of colors, fabrics, tops, and bottoms, lamented that not all gay men knew fashion. He glanced pleadingly at her.

  “Sorry, it’s actually on the back of the door. Price tag still on.”

  He found it: a tiny, silk, strapless, dress that cost…. “You’re shitting me!”

  She took it from him with only a slight roll of her eyes, snipped off the tag with a miniscule pair of scissors that she produced apparently out of thin air, and slid the dress on. “Zip me?” Alec stepped behind her and drew the zipper closed. He stood there behind his friend as she continued to examine herself from all angles. “Product,” she said, holding out her hand. This he could handle.

  “What are you going for?” he asked, quickly scanning her dressing table and its contents.

  “I don’t wish my hair to move for at least twelve hours.”

  He snatched up a spray can. “Shine or no?”

  “Shine.”

  He put the can back down and grabbed another. “Here you are.”

  She took it from him and sprayed a good bit into her hand where it expanded, nice and foamy. She worked it into her hair, straightening, shaping, and twirling around her finger as she went. When Mirabell was satisfied, her flaming red hair shone like curly copper ribbons and would likely survive a hurricane, provided it occurred within the next twelve hours.

  She dropped into the stool in front of her dressing table. Shoving a shoebox aside, Alec sat on the bed to watch her apply her makeup. He might have been concerned for the dress, but she had flawless skin—despite the smoking—so she only put on mascara, eyeliner, and scary red lipstick. She stared at herself long enough for Alec to ask, “What else?”

  “I’m torn on the beauty mark.” She turned to look at him. “Yay or nay?”

  He picked up the shoebox and sat it in his lap, absently drumming his fingers on it. “Uh… well, did you have one when you met?”

  She thought for a moment. “Not sure.” She frowned, but Alec could offer no help in this department. She sighed. “I’ll take a chance. Go without.” She turned all the way around on the stool to face him. “Don’t want it rubbing off against the pillow when he flips my arse over tonight.”

  “Mira!”

  “Oh, please. You can be such a prude sometimes.” She reached out to him, wriggling her fingers, and he realized this was Mirabell for “Hand me my pretty, new shoes, please.”

  She took the box and grinned seductively at him, but didn’t open it. “Guess.”

  “What?”

  “Guess what color they are.”

  He looked her over, taking in the hair, her pale, perfect skin, the black stockings, and the sexy black dress. “Black and red?”

  She frowned. “You’re no fun!” She whipped the lid off the box—Alec followed its chaotic arch through the air before it hit the bathroom floor behind her—and pulled out a low shiny, black boot with a two-inch, flame-red heel. She slid them on quickly and stood, smoothing her dress, to look in the mirror again.

  He rose and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You look fantastic, Mira.” She smiled at him, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek. She smelled faintly of cigarettes and surprisingly of spring rain. He had no idea how she managed that.

  She patted his hand and turned to face him. “Get your own flat, Alec,” she said softly. “You moved into his life, into his world. You need to make one of your own, just for you. If he wants to be part of it, you can make room for him.”

  “Mira—”

  She walked away from him suddenly but stopped in the center of the room. She crossed one arm over her chest and tapped her chin with her index finger as she scanned the room. “What?” he asked.

  She looked at him. “Handbag?”

  He spotted it hanging on the back of the closet door where her dress had been and passed it to her.

  “Cheers,” she said absently, searching through its contents rapidly. Satisfied, she snapped it shut. “As you pointed out earlier, you are no penniless, homeless college student. You have the cash to buy your own place, and a nice one, at that.” Alec nodded. “Decorate to your taste. Fix it just the way you like. If he wants to be with you, he will.” She draped the strap over her shoulder.

  It’s all so simple for you, isn’t it? His chest tightened at the thought of being without Eli. “No jacket, Mira?”

  She leveled her gaze at him. “How long have I been doing this? If I wear a jacket, he may not feel compelled to wrap me up in his.” She rolled her eyes, and Alec followed her out of the room and her apartment.

  Chapter 15

  COMING home to a quiet, mostly dark house, Alec knocked on Eli’s bedroom door. “Eli, we need to talk.” There was no sound from within the room, and he feared Eli had already gone to bed for the evening. He sighed, resting one palm against the door, and whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Beginning to feel more of his soccer workout, he slowly made his way up the stairs to his room. With every few steps, he practiced what he would say to Eli tomorrow about his moving out—his reasons, his hopes, and his desires. He opened his door and flicked on the light.

  “Holy shit!” he gasped, stumbling backward into the doorframe. “Eli! What the fuck?”

  Eli chuckled. “Sorry I startled you.” He sat in the chair closest to the door but got up and quickly crossed to Alec. “I had gone to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, so when I heard Ilsa turning in for the night, I snuck up here to wait for you instead.”

  Alec’s racing heart began to slow, recapturing a more steady rhythm. “Y-you… didn’t have to. I don’t like the idea of you coming up here on your own like that.”

  “I was
careful.” He stepped closer. “I took my time.” Eli pressed his hand to Alec’s heart. “You were gone so long.” He kissed Alec lightly and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, “I began to worry.”

  “I was at Mira’s—talking.”

  “About—”

  “About several things.” He reluctantly moved away from Eli. His proximity was making it difficult to think clearly.

  Eli didn’t follow. He remained by the door as Alec sat on the bed and removed his shoes.

  “Did it help?” he asked, and Alec looked up at him questioningly. Eli leaned on his cane and hugged himself with the other arm. “The talking, I mean?”

  Alec dropped one shoe. “Yeah, I think it did.” He smiled, remembering his friend’s advice. “Mira has a way of cutting straight to the heart of things.” He dropped the other shoe. “I don’t agree with her view on everything,” he said, “but she made some good points.” He looked Eli up and down as he stood there, just out of reach. He could get it all out now or…. “Coming to bed?”

  “You want me to?”

  Puzzled, Alec paused in removing his T-shirt. “Of course I do.” He smiled and pulled the shirt off over his head.

  Eli grinned broadly, quickly shedding his shirt and sweatpants and revealing nothing but a firm, ripped body—a slight body, lightly dusted with dark hair and marked by those oh-so-familiar scars, the scars that inevitably led back to Bennett.

  “You know, I wasn’t snooping or anything, but I noticed your football togs in the floor from earlier.” Staring at Eli, Alec’s mouth had gone dry, and he was having trouble thinking. “Alec?”

  “Huh? Oh, yes… football.”

  Eli took a couple of steps closer. “They were fairly grimy for someone just watching training.” Alec didn’t say anything. He only licked his bottom lip and nodded. Eli smiled and came within touching distance. Alec’s hands automatically shot out, taking hold of Eli’s hips and pulling him closer, within the circle of his legs.

  Eli was already half-erect, but as Alec kneaded his bottom and pressed his face against his chest, suckling each nipple, Eli quickly responded, and his rigid cock was soon bumping Alec’s chest. Alec moved to take Eli in his mouth, but Eli stopped him, grabbing his hair roughly and pulling his head back. “You played today, didn’t you?”

  They searched each others’ eyes for several moments, and then Alec grinned. “Yeah, I did. What of it?”

  Eli’s expression softened. “You must be exhausted,” he whispered, gently stroking Alec’s face. He tossed his cane against the wall by the headboard, and steadying himself with Alec’s help, he carefully got on his knees, pushing Alec’s legs farther apart. Alec shivered as Eli’s hands slowly traveled up his thighs. I know what you’re doing. Eli’s hands stopped when they reached his belt, undoing it. I know what you’re trying to do, and I don’t care.

  Eli paused before unzipping his jeans, cupping Alec through the material and squeezing a delicious gasp out of him. Each held the other’s gaze as Eli opened the jeans, and Alec lifted himself off the bed a bit to shimmy them off to his ankles. Alec grinned drunkenly when Eli’s fingers closed around him, freeing his stiff cock from his shorts.

  “How eager it is,” Eli said when it sprang into view. He playfully licked the slit, capturing drops of pre-come dangling there right before sucking the head into his mouth. Alec groaned, dizzy as so much heat and blood rushed to his lower region. A tremor ran through his body, and Eli pulled back, placed one hand against Alec’s torso, and pushed, encouraging him to relax and lie flat on his back, which he did.

  He would rather be watching Eli, but he found himself staring at his ceiling and getting lost in the feel of Eli’s lips and tongue sending blissful shivers through him. His eyes fell shut, and a smile spread across his face as Eli relaxed his throat, taking all of him in. Alec’s brain wouldn’t allow any negative thoughts or concerns about tomorrow and the conversation they would have to have. There was simply no room for them. All his gray cells were occupied with the baser needs and instincts of their owner. Eli sped up, and Alec began to moan and grunt, his hands gripping the bed as he fought back the urge to grab Eli by the hair and fuck his mouth. His abdomen rippled and flexed; his balls drew up tight; and, with a shout, he came, spilling into Eli’s mouth and down his throat.

  While his head cleared, he had a vague sense of Eli stripping him completely, and when he opened his eyes again, Eli was standing over him, smiling and sporting an impressive erection that made Alec’s insides start to flutter all over again. He watched as Eli reached into the bedside table and removed a small tube of lube.

  “Roll over, love,” he whispered, and Alec did. The position that worked best for Eli was taking Alec from behind while lying on their sides. They’d found that when on his knees behind him, or with Alec missionary, the muscles in Eli’s leg fatigued too quickly, and standing and topping was out of the question—or, at least, all this had been the case. Alec knew Eli’s increased workouts were part of an attempt by him to gain more strength and stamina in his leg to remedy the situation. Alec had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind Eli taking full control once in a while—fucking him hard and fast.

  In the meantime, he rolled on the bed so that he was on his left side and facing the wall. The light dimmed, casting most of the room in shadow, and a moment later he felt the bed dip as Eli climbed in, scooted over, and snuggled close behind him. The sensation of Eli’s cockhead bumping him just at the curve of his ass knocked all coherent thought from his head, which was good. His mind had begun to ratchet up again—the tickle of an idea at the back of his mind that Eli’s attentions tonight were his boyfriend’s way of reassuring himself that all was well between them, that the argument about moving out was over, that it was settled.

  Eli’s fingers, cold with lube, pressed against the cleft of Alec’s behind, and he wordlessly bent his right leg, bringing it forward to give Eli better access. He turned his face into his arm and moaned as Eli massaged him, starting just behind his balls and drawing his finger upward and deep to brush against his opening. He closed his eyes as he pushed back against Eli’s hand. He felt Eli’s other hand grip his shoulder, steadying him, and then Eli’s finger pressed into him, past the tight ring of muscle. Smiling, Alec’s breathing stuttered. Eli finger-fucked him slowly, kissing his neck as he added another finger and began to curl them inside him.

  “Eli, please… nguh!” Alec moaned as Eli added a third finger and increased the pressure, rubbing Alec in the right spot. Just as Alec began to writhe and pant, the fingers left him. A moment later, he felt his cheeks being spread, and he involuntarily tensed in anticipation as Eli pressed himself into him gradually. Alec bit down on his arm, trying to breathe through it and relax. It felt so good to be filled like this, to have Eli inside him. He heard the change in Eli’s breathing, felt it on the back of his neck, and smiled. When Eli’s hips met Alec’s, they sighed together, holding still for a moment. And then, just for fun, Alec worked his inner muscles, causing Eli to gasp and shudder.

  “Alec!”

  He chuckled to himself until Eli gripped his hipbone, pulled back, almost falling free of him, and then drove forward into Alec hard and deep, thereby knocking the chuckle right off his lips.

  Eli gripped Alec’s hip and lightly bit into his shoulder as he fucked him, and soon Alec was panting, “Yes,” and biting his own bicep, twisting his covers in his fist. “Don’t st-stop—uh!”

  Eli’s thrusts became harder, more frantic as Alec pushed back to meet them. At each thrust the glorious tension in Alec climbed until lights flashed behind his eyes, and he shouted surely loud enough to wake Ilsa. Eli followed him over the edge, gasping and panting in his ear. They lay together, sweaty and shaking, as Eli placed tiny, gentle kisses on Alec’s neck and across his shoulder. It tickled, and the occasional nibble sent shocks along Alec’s skin.

  He stirred about an hour later, and simply out of habit, reached in front of him for Eli. But the bed was cold on his le
ft. Then what they’d done came rushing back to him, where his last conscious sensation had been Eli slipping out of him. He turned over gently and smiled when he discovered Eli sleeping peacefully beside him. His hair: a chaotic mop, as usual. His face: angelic and untroubled, for a change. Alec lost track of how long he watched Eli’s chest rise and fall. He thought he could easily have watched all night.

  He suddenly wrapped Eli up tightly in his arms and began stroking his hair. He didn’t want to go anywhere without him, but he knew Mirabell’s advice had been right.

  “Alec,” Eli mumbled, pushing against his chest. “I can’t breathe.” Alec loosened his grip, and Eli looked at him, confused and sleepy. “Are you all right?”

  “Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just….”

  “What?”

  He kissed Eli deeply and stroked his thigh. “I wish we could be like this always… you know, not just when we’re making up.”

  Eli frowned. “It isn’t like this just when we’re making up.”

  “Oh yeah? After Tony and Lyle’s party? Remember? You’d gotten upset about Dray.” Eli didn’t say anything. “And then at the gym, in the shower, after you got upset about Dray.” Alec smiled wistfully. “I was ready to fuck you through that shower wall,” he said, laughing and nuzzling into Eli’s neck.

  “And tonight? No Dray tonight.” Eli’s fingers strayed into Alec’s hair, carrying chills to the nape of his neck.

  “True, but we did argue about moving out.”

  “We’re not going to do that again, are we?” Eli asked, looking pointedly at him. “We’re okay, right? I’m not ready to move out.”

  “We’re okay, Eli. I’m not going to ask you to move out again.”

  Eli pulled Alec into a kiss, and reached between them to stroke him back to life. “You’re welcome to fuck me now, if you’re up to it.” He kissed Alec’s neck and nipped playfully at his collarbone.

 

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