Give Yourself Away

by Barbara Elsborg

  “Any idea which animal has the worst sex life?” Caleb asked.

  “Apart from me until I met you? No.”

  Caleb trailed his thumbs down the ridges of March’s spine, followed his thumbs with his tongue, and March began to snack on the pillow.

  “There’s a tiny parasitic mite called a histiostoma murchiei. The first egg the female lays is male but as soon he’s hatched, his mother has sex with him because his sole purpose in his short life is to reimpregnate her so she can have the five hundred female offspring she really wants. Once the male has exhausted himself in that incestuous fuck, he dies.”

  Caleb’s hands were on March’s butt now, teasing and stroking.

  “Or maybe the macaque monkey,” Caleb said. “He gets beaten up by his rivals the exact moment he’s about to orgasm because it’s when he’s at his most vulnerable. I imagine him thinking—‘Yes, yes, yes… Oh fuck no’.”

  Caleb was working on his legs and March was melting into the bed, the tension gone from his shoulders, the muscles of his thighs softening like butter.

  “Or maybe the echidna whose balls swell to at least three times their size in mating season.”

  “Nope, I’m pretty sure my sex life prior to meeting you was worse.”

  Caleb laughed.

  March felt silky hair brush his butt, along with a whispered breath. His heart hammered and he clenched his fists. Gentle fingers traced the rounded curves of his backside and a tongue followed. March’s cock pulsed.

  “Think you could push up on your knees?” Caleb asked.

  “I have to move?” He put as much indignation into his voice as he could manage. “I can’t guarantee I’ll stay there.”

  March shoved his butt in the air and kept his face buried in the pillow, trying to disguise his harsh breathing. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  He was hyperaware of every sensation, every touch from every part of Caleb’s body. The more Caleb played with him, the more his cock ached. When a warm, wet tongue licked down the seam of his butt and over his hole, March bit the pillow. Fuck, that is so good. The more Caleb did, the more erratic and greedy March’s breathing became. More, more, more.

  Caleb licked and fluttered his tongue over the entrance to his body until March was floating. He found himself pushing back against Caleb, demanding more. Christ, he’s fucking me with his tongue. He’d done it to Caleb, but he had no idea how good it felt. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

  The squirt of lube brought him down from the clouds. But Caleb was so tender and patient, circling his fingers around March’s hole; insistent, pressing gently as he persuaded reluctant muscles to cede. When he added his tongue to the pressure of his finger and both slid a little way inside, March groaned with the rightness of it. He found himself spreading his legs, pushing his butt higher, asking for more. Caleb’s finger slipped deep inside him, the muscles of March’s arse clamped down and Caleb sucked in a breath.

  “Okay?” Caleb asked.

  “That dildo is too big. Try your little finger instead.”

  “Have you ever used it?”

  “No. I ordered it over the Internet and freaked out when I saw it. I think I got the measurements wrong or they sent me a joke one. And it feels—too hard.”

  Caleb pushed his finger in and out, curled it and touched March’s prostate.

  “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” March gasped. I need to piss. No, I’m okay. Don’t stop doing that. Thank fuck he hadn’t said any of that.

  He reached for his cock and wrapped his hand tightly around the base.

  “Don’t come yet,” Caleb said.

  March’s laughter bubbled out of him. Then one of Caleb’s fingers turned into two and he stopped laughing. Part of him marveled how he’d given himself up to this. Would he have done it for anyone other than Caleb? Trusted anyone other than him? Could he have?

  “Breathe,” Caleb whispered.

  Oh yeah. I forgot. The pull in his gut, the need to come was powering toward him like a seventh wave, lifting him and filling him with adrenaline. He pressed the heel of his hand down onto his balls.

  On every gentle thrust of his fingers, Caleb caressed March’s prostate and March decided breathing was overrated. The wave had picked him up, dragged him toward destruction, but stopped before he got there and instead swept him out to sea. But the journey back to shore was starting again and this time he couldn’t escape. He was dimly aware of Caleb scooting beneath him, pushing him back, maneuvering him until March was crouched over Caleb. Somehow Caleb had sheathed himself and slathered lube everywhere.

  “Up to you.” Caleb’s voice was croaky, his eyes dark with desire.

  March wrapped his hand around Caleb’s cock and positioned it at the entrance to his body.

  “How come you suddenly feel twice as big?” March asked.

  He pushed down on Caleb’s cock, letting the rounded head nudge his opening. Oh fuck. No way. Every muscle in his body locked down, not just those in his backside.

  Caleb stared into his eyes. “You look so sexy.”

  March groaned.

  “You still okay with this?” Caleb asked.

  March nodded.

  “That rigid jaw because you have toothache?” Caleb asked.

  “Smartarse.”

  “Yeah.” Caleb smiled. “Don’t just be okay with it, though. You need to want to do it.”

  Caleb reached for March’s nipples and when he plucked them, March gasped.

  “You need to relax,” Caleb whispered.

  “Do I? I hadn’t realized.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “Liar.”

  “Well, it might a bit but it feels great after.”

  “After what?”

  “After you’ve adjusted.”

  March took a deep breath, still gripping Caleb’s cock, and sank a little lower.

  “Adjustment takes a year or so,” Caleb added.

  “Fuck you.” March laughed.

  “Get on with it. You’re not the only one on a knife edge.” Caleb’s face was taut with strain.

  March held his breath as he sank down, letting Caleb slide deeper into him and…he panicked. Christ, it hurts. How much more is there?

  “It’s okay, it’s okay. Breathe.” Caleb wrapped his fingers around the wrist of March’s free hand. “Wait or pull out. But it’ll get better. Promise.”

  March panted as he waited. He felt his body gradually accept the intrusion and then he sank the rest of the way until they were pressed together with nowhere else to go.

  Caleb gasped and sucked in a breath. “Wow.”

  “I’ll accept wow.”

  Caleb laughed and March felt the vibration ripple through him.

  “Okay. Think you can move?” Caleb panted.

  March lifted his hips until just the head of Caleb’s cock stayed inside him, before he lowered himself again.

  “Oh Jesus,” Caleb moaned. “If you care about my sanity, move, move fast, and do it now. A lot. Well, aim for twice.”

  Caleb’s hands were under March’s backside, but all he was doing was holding tight, not pushing him into doing anything. March understood why Caleb had thought this was the best way for him—because the control was his, not Caleb’s. But when he began to move, to fuck himself on that hard, hot length, his control began to crumble. Was it ever been more than a fragile thing?

  When Caleb bucked up as March dropped down, his vision wavered. Harsh, guttural sounds burst from them both and echoed around the room. The musky scent of sex, of sweat-soaked bodies, swirled around them.

  When Caleb leaned forward and pulled March’s cock into his mouth, March whimpered. How can he do that? Can he bend in fucking half? Ah yes, he can.

  But thoughts of how subsided under the frenzied need to make Caleb come, the equally de
sperate need to let himself come. Caleb still rocked up into him as March fucked him, yet kept licking and mouthing his cock, one of his hands pumping the base, the other still grasping March’s butt.

  “Caleb,” March groaned his name, felt Caleb tense as he came, a warm rush filling the condom. March only had time to take a breath and then he was coming too, spurting over Caleb’s face and his chest. As his body jerked and his balls emptied, March felt as though he’d been dragged off the sea and up into the air, spiraling out of control.

  He looked down at Caleb smugly smiling up at him and said, “I might do that again.”

  Caleb laughed. “Where’s the aftersex cuddle?”

  “We haven’t finished yet.”

  March lifted himself off, keeping hold of the condom, and wished they weren’t using them, wished he could empty himself directly into Caleb, mark him as his.

  When he came back from the bathroom with a cloth, Caleb hadn’t moved. One look at his come-splattered face and chest, and March’s cock twitched. No way. Can you kill yourself with too much sex? He cleaned Caleb and watched him start to slide into sleep, even before March finished.

  When March came back from the bathroom the second time and climbed into bed, Caleb wrapped himself around him.

  “Thank you,” Caleb whispered.

  “You’re very polite.”

  “Yeah well, I want to do that again too.”

  March sucked in a breath when he looked at Caleb. “Your eyes.”

  “I’ve taken the lenses out. I don’t need to hide anymore.”

  The lump in March’s throat grew large enough to choke him. “I’d have known,” he whispered. “If I’d seen your eyes, I’d have known. They’d have given you away. I can see you now. Really see you.”

  March fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  March was sprawled like a starfish and snoring lightly when Caleb snuck from under his arm and crept from the bed. He looked down at March and sighed. He hadn’t been sure whether March would ever want to be fucked and Caleb had been a bundle of nerves in case he hurt him. But he’d laughed when March said, “I might do that again.”

  Caleb showered in the bathroom attached to the other bedroom so that he didn’t wake March, and pulled on his work clothes. Before he left, he unwrapped his birds, put three of them on the windowsill in his room and took the other—a robin, his favorite—into March’s bedroom. Caleb scribbled a note.

  Gone to work. See you tonight. You owe me £10 for failing to carry me up the stairs, but maybe double or quits? This bird is for you.

  Caleb drove away in his car, with his heart pounding. He’d liked Simon and Mike until things had gone wrong, but he’d never felt this thing in his chest, this ache, this need, this all-encompassing desperation to be with another person. He wanted to take care of March, to have fun with him, to share a life with him. Caleb released a shaky breath. I love him. But…

  And there was a but. March was in his first gay relationship. He’d only just come out, and even if he’d known he was gay, he’d only just said it out loud. He’d never been with a guy until Caleb. It wasn’t fair to tie him down. How would either of them ever know it was the real thing if March hadn’t seen what else was on offer? Caleb knew. He had no doubt, but March’s head was filled with lust, consumed with the excitement and pleasure of something new.

  It was too soon to tell March how he felt. Too soon to know how March really felt about what had gone on in Caleb’s life. He’d taken a risk telling him about Jasim. Part of him regretted it because he’d promised to keep quiet. If things went wrong between him and March, Caleb had given him a weapon. But he thought about the boy March had been and knew deep down that March would keep the secret. Whether he’d get his head around what Caleb had done with Liam and then Jasim was less certain.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  March woke to the sound of the alarm and jerked upright. No Caleb by his side. He fumbled for the off switch, silenced the din, then turned to see a note and a little wooden bird. He smiled when he read what Caleb had written.

  The bird was exquisite. He thought it might be a robin but he wasn’t sure. No red breast to give him a clue. The barbules on each feather had been minutely carved and tiny nails knocked in for the eyes. The feet were twisted strips of thin metal and the beak—he wasn’t sure what Caleb had used for that. Maybe part of a circuit board.

  When they were boys, Caleb had tried to teach March bird names. But he’d usually forgotten by the time they were back on their bikes. Caleb knew their calls, their habitats, what their eggs looked like. He could even call back to some of them. Birds were the only things Caleb ever seemed to draw, and even though he was only eleven, March had known he had talent. But since March had never made any advance in his artistic ability from the age of five, it didn’t take much to impress him.

  While he showered, he thought about what they’d done last night. Caleb was…perfect. Fuck it, can’t I come up with another word? But he couldn’t. Caleb was gentle and thoughtful and excited and funny, and there was no way March was going to let him out of his life. And to ensure Caleb stayed safe, he had to be certain there wasn’t anyone waiting in the wings to cause problems. He’d heard what Caleb said about staying under the radar, but March was not going to let anything happen to Caleb now he’d found him.

  At work, in between lectures, tutorials and seminars, March did some online checking for a Saudi prince named Jasim who owned or once owned a polo pony called Tye’s Dream. If Jasim hadn’t given Caleb that horse’s name, March doubted he’d have uncovered him. But there was a Saudi prince called Jasim bin Rajhi, a seven-handicap polo player for an English team, and March found mention of a horse called Tye’s Dream. March clicked on images and after checking details on a few websites found himself looking at photos of the man who’d bid for Caleb, fucked him, killed for him, possibly almost killed for him again and might still want him.

  He didn’t look as old as Caleb had described him. Maybe mid-to-late thirties. No facial hair, unlike many Saudis. Good-looking, though he didn’t appear gay. March huffed. What the hell do I know?

  Finding out where Jasim lived was not so straightforward. All the Internet told him was details of polo matches. The guy might not even be in the country. March picked out a private detective agency and paid them to trace him. It was less expensive than he’d thought, and provided Jasim was in the UK, they said they might have something within forty-eight hours.

  Before March went home, he scrolled through pages of sites offering tattoo removal and located a business in Bournemouth that looked good. Well, the before-and-after pictures looked brilliant, but they were hardly going to display the ones that had been less successful. “This was once the tattoo of a pirate galleon in full sail and now it looks like a monkey’s backside.” Yeah right. The good news was that according to the information, professional tattoos were harder to remove than those done by amateurs. He made an appointment for Saturday, two days’ time. March would no longer be on call for the lifeboat and maybe he wouldn’t tell Caleb where they were going; he’d just take him.

  He phoned Caleb before he left work.

  “Hi,” Caleb said.

  “If I had a carpenter,” March sang.

  “Hmm. It’s ‘If I were a carpenter’ and, no, I’m not having your baby.”

  The jolt in March’s gut surprised him. A baby? Was that something they might want in the future? “I’m just about to set off. Anything you’d like me to pick up from the supermarket?”

  “I can make a chili if you get the ingredients.”

  “Beef, beans, onions, chili powder, tomatoes, rice?”

  “And garlic, paprika, tomato puree and a piece of dark chocolate.”

  March smiled. “Right. See you later.”

  March found himself humming “Take Me to Church” as he drove away from the supermarket and his mind filled wit
h images of Caleb dancing. That was another thing he wanted to put right, but finding a way Caleb could dance for a living might be beyond him. He was about two miles from the house, still in a sorting-out-stuff mood, and decided he’d call Annabel.

  He owed her a proper explanation for letting things go so far then breaking up with her. It wasn’t that he’d suddenly developed more of a conscience after hearing what Caleb had been through, but this was one thing he could put right. He needed to tell her before she heard it from someone else. March hoped, after he told her he was gay, she’d understand what he’d done. Being happy for him would be a step too far.

  “Yes.” Annabel’s voice was curt.

  “How are you?”

  “How do you think I am?”

  Not forgiven then. “I’m sorry and I know being sorry isn’t enough.”

  “Why are you calling?”

  “I wanted to tell you something. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

  She gave a sudden gasp. “You lied? You were seeing another woman?”

  “No. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I’m not interested in women.”

  He pulled up on the drive and sat with the engine running.

  “Are you telling me you’re gay?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Liar.”

  Oh for fuck’s sake. “I’m not lying.”

  Annabel’s brittle laughter turned into sobs. “You couldn’t have decided that before you asked me to marry you? You bastard.”

  “You asked me, Annabel.”

  She snorted. “You had sex with me. Do I need to get checked out?”

  March cringed. “I’d never been with a guy until we were through. I didn’t know what I was.” Not really true but maybe better if she thought that.

  “And now you do know? I was so repulsive I drove you to have sex with guys?”

  “No, that’s not true. I cared for you, but there was something missing in my life. I thought you could make me whole but you couldn’t, and that’s not your fault but mine. I’m sorry.”