Seeds of Tyrone Box Set

by Debbie McGowan

  Patrick rose to his full height again. “I can’t wait to taste you for real,” he said, removing the space between them so that their bodies made contact from chests to knees. He could feel Aidan’s dick throbbing against his own.

  “Can we take off the rest of our things?” Aidan asked. “The shorts are okay, but the socks…”

  Patrick laughed and bent to take off his socks first, at the same moment as Aidan pushed down his shorts, exposing himself fully just inches from Patrick’s face. The angel and devil started their banter again. It would be so easy to take Aidan right now, deep into his mouth, roll his tongue over that smooth silky head, swallow him down. So easy, but so dangerous, and they’d waited this long.

  Shaking a little from the effort of self-control, Patrick backed off and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Aidan down next to him, immediately meshing their mouths together and taking Aidan in hand with slow, smooth strokes. Aidan’s knees fell open. In their present position Patrick could do no more. He moved and Aidan moved with him, clumsily climbing on top, trapping Patrick’s hand between their bodies.

  Aidan’s knee slid up between Patrick’s legs. “Let me…” he said, rolling and reaching for Patrick’s dick. He sought it out through touch alone, a whimper escaping him as he made contact. “I don’t know…how to…”

  “You’re doing just fine,” Patrick assured him. He closed his eyes and lay back, focusing on the sensation of Aidan’s cool fingers exploring, the sweep of a thumb that picked up precum and smeared it, the drawing back of foreskin. “Oh, you know what you’re doing, all right,” Patrick said breathlessly. It was a hell of a job keeping himself from coming already, and he was supposedly the experienced one.

  “Is that okay?” Aidan asked. Patrick smiled and nodded. He swallowed and licked his dry lips. Aidan’s mouth descended and he pushed his tongue inside. Patrick was trying to keep his rhythm, but it was so hard to coordinate his movements and he didn’t dare open his eyes or it would have been over.

  “Can I…?” Aidan tentatively began, but the question was left hanging in the air, as he climbed on top again. Patrick looked up into Aidan’s face. “I think I’m going to…” Aidan rutted helplessly.

  Patrick nodded. “Yes, you just let…go.”

  And there was no more time left for either of them. Aidan cried out as the heat of his orgasm spread over Patrick’s belly, soon to be joined by Patrick’s own, the slick, sticky mess a marker for their future love-making.

  Chapter Nineteen:

  Testing Day

  Patrick had begun meeting Aidan after his shift at The Grand Heights and bringing him back to his apartment over the gym.

  “Just want you close,” he’d insisted. Aidan knew the truth, though. Patrick was being kind—standing between him and the possibility of running into Ms. Ashmore or Mrs. Wright in the evenings. It was the same reason that Jill had been checking in with him much more frequently than she ever had in the past.

  It didn’t matter the reason why Patrick came to meet him, Aidan just enjoyed being together. They’d take Aidan’s car and Patrick would drive so Aidan could rest his head against Patrick’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. No destination in mind. They just drove.

  That evening, he smelled like the sweat of hard work, the fresh, earthy aroma of the outdoors, and the faint, lingering perfume of flowers. Even though they were the smells of the graveyard, Aidan loved it because he’d come to realize how important Patrick’s job was to those who were grieving. When they laid Nadia to rest, he’d never once thought about the gravediggers, because he didn’t have to.

  “You smell nice.”

  “I stink to high heaven,” Patrick argued. “Need to get a shower after my workout. Want to work out with me tonight?”

  “Maybe. The punching bag is fun.”

  “I could teach you to box for real.”

  “I’d like that,” Aidan agreed. “Or…you could strip off your shirt and I could watch you fight the bag.”

  “My, you’re the eager one tonight, aren’t you?” Patrick accused playfully as they turned off the main road onto the side street that would lead them back to Max’s gym. “Wicked thoughts in that beautiful head of yours?”

  For a second he considered hoarding his thoughts, torturing Patrick a little, but he couldn’t resist as Patrick slinked an arm over his shoulder. Aidan melted into him. “Well, it’s just that tomorrow’s our date.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  “Oh aye,” Patrick said, the smile never leaving his face. “I think there was about ten seconds this morning when I may have forgotten you and I are going to get tested. After all, it’s only the thing that will finally get you into my bed.”

  “I’ve been in your bed every night this week.”

  “True, but you’ve not been in my bed and on my…” The way he trailed off tantalized Aidan, the lilt of his accent making love to Aidan’s ears, the implications passionately writhing in his brain.

  They pulled around the back of the gym, the headlights glowing in the fading dusk of evening. This had become routine, too. Sitting together in the car, talking quietly, or fogging the windows with the heat of their kisses. Aidan put his hand on Patrick’s chest, felt the steady tha-dump, tha-dump of his heartbeat.

  “I’ve booked us in at the clinic on State Street tomorrow. I did some research about the place online and their reviews were grand. Friendly technicians, good with their needles. That’s critical for me.”

  “You don’t like needles?” Aidan asked, surprised. He couldn’t imagine that something as simple as the prick of a needle would bother Patrick.

  “Hate ’em. Always have. Got worse after Mam got sick. They stuck her all the time, you see. They stuck her so much it got where they couldn’t draw blood from the veins in her arms for ’em running dry. Had to start taking from the leg and then in between her knuckles. Worse was the chemo. They always had her hooked up to that damned IV and her veins kept collapsing and… ” He shivered at the thought. “She never complained. I wish I could have been braver for her, Aidan, but I couldn’t watch them stick her, so when I sat with her, I think she was the one squeezing my hand tighter than I was squeezing hers.”

  “She was your mom, Paddy. She just wanted to take care of you. My mom would have done the same thing.”

  Patrick cleared his throat hard and took a moment before pushing on. “So we’re both getting a panel done and I’m payin’, no arguments.”

  “But—”

  “No arguments. You stole tickets for me, I’m paying for your STD tests. Obviously, romance isn’t dead.” Their laughter mingled together and Aidan loved the sound of it. “They’ll be testing us both for the eight most common STDs and—”

  “How soon do we get our results?”

  “By Wednesday at the latest.”

  “That sounds like a million years away.” Aidan sighed and knuckled his temple.

  They’d both agreed that they wouldn’t do more than kiss until the results came in. They could have relieved each other in so many nice, safe ways—but the idea was (and it was Aidan’s idea first) that if they waited, they’d be a little crazy with desire by the time they got the all-clear. That was a good thing, right? He’d looked to Patrick who had nodded slowly in agreement. Both of them had since regretted it, if only because their hands so longed to wander when they were kissing in bed at night.

  The evening before, drunk on Patrick’s searching kisses, Aidan had begged. “Can I watch you…y’know?”

  Patrick knew. “Only if I can watch you, too.”

  “And we won’t touch each other?” It wasn’t meant to be a reassurance-seeking question. It was meant to be a plea. Please say we will. Please say you can’t stand it anymore, because I can’t stand it anymore, Paddy.

  Instead, Patrick swallowed down hard, his jaw clenched tight and murmured, “Hands to ourselves. I’ll even move back on the mattress.” He drew a line down the midd
le of the covers with his fingers. “Now, my love. Show me.”

  It had been great and even more frustrating than he would have imagined.

  “You keep going into your head,” Patrick said, placing a tender kiss in his hair. “Don’t worry—Wednesday will be here before you know it.”

  “And then we’ll make love?” Aidan asked. Now he was seeking reassurance.

  “As many times as we can get it up,” Patrick purred and Aidan smiled blissfully.

  <<< >>>

  The testing building was a bit run down, with a dingy brick exterior and cracked pavement. Inside, the facilities were gray and somber and the hearty ficus near the front door did nothing to cheer the place up. But Patrick was right—the staff was exceptional. Even the young receptionist was kind as she explained they wouldn’t be able to go in together.

  “Um, but my boyfriend has a needle phobia,” Aidan explained to her.

  She smiled at him kindly and said, “Janelle is working today. You’ve never met a better phlebotomist. It’ll be the quickest, most gentle draw he’s ever had. I promise.”

  Aidan looked over at Patrick to see if he was okay, and found that the man was blushing the fiercest shade of red. It highlighted the tips of his ears even. His mouth hung slightly agape.

  “Paddy? Are you okay? I’m sorry I can’t go with you, but—”

  “Did you just call me your boyfriend?”

  Realization dawned on Aidan then. He had, hadn’t he? Right there in the testing office, he’d told a complete stranger that Patrick was his boyfriend.

  “Is it okay?”

  “There aren’t enough ways to say ‘yes’, my love.”

  All the way to the exam room, and sitting in the phlebotomist’s chair, Aidan had to fight to keep his smile under control, which must have freaked Janelle out just a bit. Probably wasn’t often people sat in her orange pleather chair with a needle drawing blood from their veins, all the while grinning like an idiot.

  “You know if you’re drunk, you might skew the results,” she teased him.

  “No, it’s just…I’ve got a boyfriend.”

  At her confused look he continued, “And I didn’t twenty-five minutes ago. Now I do.”

  “Ah!”

  Patrick didn’t have a grin on his face, however, when his turn came. In fact, he looked a little green. Aidan walked with him all the way to the door, squeezing his arm tightly and promising that the receptionist hadn’t lied. Janelle was gentle.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said miserably. “I’m either going to faint or cry, and I’d rather not do either.”

  “Patrick, you don’t have to do this,” Aidan reminded him. “You told me you’re clean and I believe you. You don’t have to put yourself through this again.”

  Patrick managed a weak smile and bopped Aidan lovingly under the chin.

  “Nope. I want to give you my results. I want to show you. Just don’t laugh when I come out of there all tear-streaked and pale.”

  “I won’t,” Aidan promised.

  Patrick was back in less than five minutes, neither crying nor pale. In fact, he was chatting happily with Janelle who walked him back into the reception area. He had a cotton ball taped to the crook of his arm. It matched Aidan’s.

  “You okay?”

  “Better than. Let’s get out of here.”

  <<< >>>

  The email came in on Tuesday evening, while Patrick was taking a shower. Aidan looked down at his phone and saw the message. Part of him wanted to go to Patrick, part of him wanted to wait. Then there was the majority of his brain that had been worrying over the thought that he might have an STD. With visibly trembling fingers, he opened his email and scrolled silently through the letter, looking at each of the eight tests and their results.

  He heard the water in the shower go off, but didn’t hear. Saw Patrick come into the room, but didn’t see. His eyes were glued to the screen.

  “Are you all right there?” Patrick asked.

  Aidan slowly lifted his head, his eyes focusing on the man he was falling so hard for. He smiled and laughed and cried. “I’m clean. I’m clean, Paddy.”

  Chapter Twenty:

  First Time

  “I wish I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what he was doing here,” Aidan said slowly. “Wait, no, I mean I’m glad you’re here to guide me through it. I just guess I wish I wasn’t the only virgin. N-not that I'm saying anything bad about you and anything you’ve done before. It’s just me. I’m, well, embarrassed.”

  Patrick smiled, so totally enamored with the perfect man in his bed. Should he tell him? Was it wrong to let it drop now, right before they made love? He leaned over, his mouth moving of its own accord. “Well, it’s a first for me, too.”

  Aidan’s eyes went wide. “But you’re not—”

  Patrick kissed him tenderly, purely to shut him up. Yes, he’d had boyfriends before; he’d hurt and been hurt. He’d even thought he’d been in love once, to discover later it wasn’t love at all. And, truth be told, it really wasn’t that many boyfriends; nor was he the type who particularly enjoyed a casual hookup. Indeed, thinking about some of the guys who’d tried to pick him up over the years was enough to make him shudder. They liked the accent, or the muscles, or the red hair, or whatever, and that he was young and allegedly not a bad-looking lad.

  They probably wouldn’t have cared if he’d turned out to be an out-and-out gobshite, because they were only after one thing…until he told them the line of work he was in. Then they’d be away faster than shit off a hot shovel, chasing some other poor wee thing. It usually worked a treat, and Patrick may very well have subtly dropped it in amongst the chatting up to expedite their departure—although there was that one young feller with the tattoos and long black hair who thought working in a graveyard was sexy. On that occasion it was Patrick who beat a hasty retreat.

  But he didn’t want to think about them, which was as well, for there was only the one man filling his head right now: the very same beautiful man lying in his bed, staring up at him with such a gorgeous quizzical expression Patrick was almost tempted to hold off saying anything at all, just so he could look at it some more.

  “You know a kiss isn’t an answer,” Aidan said.

  “Well, my love, put it this way, you’re the first in this bed.”

  “And you’ve had this bed for how long?”

  Patrick laughed. He rolled onto his back, taking Aidan with him, accepting the rain of hungry kisses that beat down on him. “I thought you were nervous.”

  “I can totally do kisses.”

  “You’re not wrong there.” Patrick lifted his head to return the favor, but Aidan blocked him with a palm on his chest.

  “Tell me what you mean.”

  “I mean,” Patrick brushed Aidan’s hair back and looked deep into his eyes, almost losing himself within them. The palm on his chest pushed a little harder. “Okay, okay!” Patrick inhaled to steady himself and went for broke. “It’s my first time being with someone I’m in love with.”

  “Oh!” Aidan blinked a few times in quick succession. “You’re…in love. With me?”

  “Yep. Head over heels, truly, madly, deeply and all that jazz in love, with you.”

  “Wow!” Aidan sat up, straddling Patrick but seemingly unnoticing of the epic hard-on he was crushing. “But haven’t you…you’ve…I mean…you’ve never been in love before?”

  “Never. Although there was this one time, when I was twelve. Mary Clooney, her name was. She had the most glorious curly blond hair and big blue eyes. We sat next to each other in nearly every class. I don’t think she even noticed I existed and I so wanted to be her boyfriend. And there’s another thing, Aidan Degas. You’re the first one to claim me as their boyfriend.”

  “I am?” Aidan grinned. “Cool.”

  “I’d have to agree. So, I think it’s time we did this thing, you know?”

  Aidan’s head bobbed in a swift, nervous nod. Patrick cupped his cheek.

 
“What’s worrying you?”

  “Does…does it hurt? You know, when, er…”

  “A little, yeah. Or maybe a lot, but we’ll take it nice and slow, and if you want me to stop, just say the word and I’ll stop. All right?”

  “Yes, okay.” Aidan’s expression became serious and purposeful. He climbed off Patrick and sat alongside, his legs crossed, shoulders tense. They each had no more than a towel covering their lower body, and the thick fabric was doing nothing to hide Patrick’s arousal. He couldn’t tell what state Aidan was in because of his position. But they’d talked about it and thought of little else for the past week, and Aidan had been in that bathroom like a shot once they’d shared their test results. Patrick needed to take the lead; show him what to do.

  Pushing Aidan back met with no resistance—he simply let himself fall into the plush pillows—and Patrick was relieved to see the confirmation granted by the outline of Aidan’s dick, fully erect and striving for freedom. Using his forefinger and thumb, Patrick untucked the end of the towel, folded back one side and then the other, leaving Aidan completely exposed. He was watching Patrick so intently that he was suddenly bashful, convinced Aidan could read his every thought, every desire. The heat that preceded a full-body blush coursed through him and he glanced up to meet Aidan’s delighted smile.

  “Are you laughin’ at me, Aidan Degas?”

  Aidan shook his head very, very slowly. “Are you going to take off your towel too?”

  Patrick shrugged and whipped away the towel, throwing it to the floor. His dick stood proud under Aidan’s scrutiny. Patrick flexed, showing off his abs and pecs to full effect. Aidan’s eyes flitted up briefly, and then back down again. His expression changed to one of approval.