by Con Riley
“Suck it. Please suck it, Theo.”
Theo did. His fingers slid around to Morgan’s ass, digging in as he urged him deeper into his mouth before sliding to his hips again to push him back some when his length nudged against Theo’s throat, almost making him gag.
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m sorry. Please keep going.”
Theo jacked him good and fast as he took a few breaths before starting again. This time he sucked and pressed his tongue up as Morgan started to thrust—slowly at first, then with more of a staccato rhythm. Theo cupped Morgan’s balls, feeling them lift closer to his body, then groaned as Morgan shifted and pulled away.
Morgan bent and kissed Theo again, then crouched, yanking at Theo’s belt until it came free. Lifting his hips as Morgan pulled his pants down, Theo shrugged his shirt all the way off also, then toed out of his shoes. Morgan helped him get his pants off completely, jerking his dick as he struggled out of his own shoes and pants one-handed.
Morgan stood for a second, a naked stranger only just inside Theo’s home, his long, hard dick in hand, and Theo groaned, feeling overwhelmed. Caught by Morgan’s hot, dark gaze, he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “Come on, Theo. Come on, come on, come on.” He hauled Theo up, bending quickly to kiss his dick, then swipe it with his warm wet-velvet tongue.
“Guess how much patience I have, Theo.”
Theo remembered months of waking up to Morgan’s where are yous and coming home to his what took you so fucking longs. Yeah, patience wasn’t his strongest suit.
“None?”
“Don’t make me wait any longer, Theo.”
Theo didn’t.
THEY took a while to make it down the hallway. Morgan didn’t seem capable of moving without kissing, and kissing led to stumbling and bumping into doorways. Theo could almost see his chat messages—kissing, I choose kissing—as he felt Morgan suck on his tongue. He had both arms wrapped around Theo’s neck, his tongue deep in his mouth when he leaned on the living room door, making it swing wide open. Spying the couch, he pulled Theo with him, then bent over its back, arms stretched to each side, ass tilted up.
“Here. Right here, Theo.”
Morgan looked over his shoulder, all furrowed brow and tension as Theo hesitated. His voice lowered. “Come. On. Already.”
Stepping forward, Theo ran his hands all the way up from firm ass cheeks to strong shoulders, feeling nothing but warm, smooth skin-covered muscle and bone. Morgan’s shoulder blades were dusted with a spattering of moles, like constellations viewed in negative. He kissed his way across them as Morgan pushed back against his cock, his lower back dipping deeply. Morgan lifted one arm, twisting his shoulders, pulling Theo in for another kiss that was all teeth and tongue and desperation, then slumped forward again, his face pressed to the leather couch back, grumbling.
Dick pressed against Morgan’s ass crack, hips thrusting almost involuntarily, Theo smiled before asking, “Are you growling again?”
Morgan humped back against him, that delicious friction making Theo hold his hips tighter, before he answered, “Are you fucking me yet?” He grumbled even more when Theo pulled him up, kissing him again before guiding him toward his bedroom, batting his hands away every time they tried to wander.
If they were doing this, Theo figured, still not quite believing that he had Morgan—his Morgan—naked, sprawling across his bed, tetchily pulling at his own balls while Theo dug through nightstand drawers looking for supplies, then they were doing it right. Morgan’s “For fuck’s sake” as Theo held the condoms at arm’s length, squinting at the expiration date, made Theo smile. Tossing the lube and condoms on the pillow next to Morgan’s head, he straddled his legs.
“You are so impatient. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He moved up Morgan’s long body, bypassing his cock, licking his belly, dipping into his navel before he moved on to his nipples. Theo looked up as he licked and sucked, smiling as Morgan squirmed and started cursing under his breath. Running his hands firmly from his armpits, all the way up to his wrists before pinning them against the pillow, Theo sucked one dark pink nipple until it stiffened, then he bit. Morgan broke his hold, his voice rough as he said, “Don’t do that. Don’t try to hold me down.” Theo nodded, then dipped his head again, mouthing the other nipple, watching him carefully. Morgan dragged in a huge breath, then relaxed. The sounds he made were brilliant and a little scary.
“I’m either going to come, or I’m going to kill you if you keep doing that.”
Theo stopped, then crawled up Morgan’s body until his knees were on either side of his shoulders. Yeah, Morgan was scary all right, lying there, glaring up at him with those bottomless black eyes. A wave of anxiety washed over him—was this okay? Would they be okay?—until he felt Morgan’s hands rub up the backs of his thighs before kneading his ass. He leaned forward a little, bracing against the headboard with one arm while tapping Morgan’s kiss-swollen lips with his cock.
“Open up, kid.”
Morgan snorted, then winked before barking out a laugh, and, just like that, Theo felt the connection between them tugging hard, like the pull of the first-ever fish his dad helped him to haul out of the lake.
Morgan’s hot mouth was almost too much to take. Add in suction, along with the visual of his cheeks hollowing, and Theo was right on the edge after just a few minutes. He eased out, rubbing his thumbs just under Morgan’s ears where his jaw was jointed. Morgan hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him down for more kissing. Theo couldn’t get enough. He stretched his legs out between Morgan’s, bearing his weight on his elbows while Morgan slipped a hand between them. Lifting a little, breaking their kiss, Theo looked down as those slim, long, pale fingers wrapped around their cocks. He couldn’t help moving, fucking into Morgan’s grip, groaning as they rubbed together, dick to dick.
“Morgan… Morgan, I’m going to come.” Theo couldn’t hold back. He was there, right there, riding the sensation of Morgan’s grip around him. He bit his lip, his face screwed up, desperately trying to hold out a while longer. Morgan’s arm around his neck tensed, body arching as he came first, shooting streams and spots of spunk between them. Theo let go, closing his eyes, graying out as he came right along with him.
When he opened his eyes again, Morgan lay beside him with one arm over his own eyes, breathing heavily. They recovered next to each other in silence for a minute. When Morgan rolled onto his side, kissing Theo’s shoulder, his chin, and his lips, Theo let out a breath. Morgan’s smile was dazed. He gazed at Theo, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed, looking completely relaxed before saying, “I guess that’s what happens after three months of foreplay.”
He leaned in for another kiss, then asked, “Did you know you called me Morgan?”
Theo nodded, watching as Morgan squinted, lips pursed, consideration furrowing his brow momentarily, followed by decision.
“I can live with that.”
When he smiled at Theo, Theo smiled right back.
Chapter 17
THEO found that some aspects of his and Morgan’s virtual relationship translated into real life easily, while others were brand-new surprises.
Morgan falling into a sudden post orgasmic doze—dark eyes crinkling at the corners one moment as he mocked Theo’s bedroom wallpaper, the next all lowered, long, coal-black eyelashes and soft snores—was new. His waking again after a few minutes and ordering pizza while Theo showered drew from their online relationship. He didn’t need to ask which toppings Theo preferred; he already knew and called in a near-perfect order before settling in front of the living room TV in search of a game. His verbal hectoring of Theo’s pitiful range of TV channels was so close to his online persona that Theo felt comfortable ignoring his teasing.
Yeah, some aspects didn’t even require thought, like pulling out some sodas from the refrigerator, then replacing one with a bottle of water for Morgan. Others were pleasant surprises: Morgan showered next, and when the pizza delivery guy arrived, both he and Theo smiled when Mor
gan’s shower singing became loud enough to echo along the hallway.
“Someone’s happy.” Theo agreed with the delivery guy as he paid him, overtipping just because, then shutting the front door quickly behind him as Morgan really let loose, his voice bluesy and just the right side of rough. Theo leaned on the bathroom door, listening as their pizza cooled, reluctant to interrupt. He sounded amazing.
A few minutes later, he was pulling out sweats from his bedroom dresser drawer as Morgan dried off behind him. “You didn’t tell me you could sing.” He met Morgan’s gaze in his mirrored closet door, then looked away as Morgan dropped his towel and pulled on the sweats. Moments like that reminded him that they were, essentially, still strangers.
Morgan raised his brows, looking Theo up and down. “You didn’t tell me you were so hot, so I guess that makes us even.” He rubbed his hair, then dumped his towel on the floor before crossing to Theo and pulling him into a hug, his voice all low rumble and warm breath in Theo’s ear. “You didn’t tell me you were so good at kissing either.” He backed away as Theo leaned in, half smiling, saying he was starving to fucking death and could they please eat already.
Some aspects of their brand-new, reality-based relationship were just plain awkward.
Theo cleared away their pizza crusts with Morgan following, carrying their empty bottles, talking relentlessly. They’d watched the news, and Morgan had been right in the middle of explaining to Theo just how completely wrong all of his opinions were, a smile evident in his tone, when he stopped by the refrigerator, voice stuttering into sudden silence. The absence of sound washed in where his incessant commentary had taken up space just moments before like a sudden slap of icy sea water around Theo’s ankles.
Morgan traced the outline of Theo’s fist imprint in the refrigerator door.
“You did this?” His voice was flat.
Theo nodded, watching as Morgan curved his fingers into a fist, pressing them into the indentation. His hand was slimmer than Theo’s, leaving space around the edges of the deep dent. He stood, saying nothing for an almost-too-long minute before taking a few steps back, his face bone white. “You didn’t mention having a temper.” Theo shrugged, leaning in a little, aiming for a kiss to break the sudden weird tension between them. Morgan backed away again asking, “Where did you put my clothes, Theo?”
“They’re in the bedroom. I thought you….” He took in the way Morgan’s mouth was drawn into tight lines—he looked like a stranger. He was a stranger. “I hoped you would stay.”
Watching Morgan then was like observing one of their online debates from a distance. Earlier, he had been full of conversation and sought physical contact—stealing pepperoni and kisses while he mocked the TV commentary—just as he would joke and fool around in their private chat sessions. In the kitchen, he withdrew as if Theo were an Internet opponent rather than a lover.
Theo didn’t understand his sudden emotional sea change. He could only stand and watch as Morgan’s eyes flickered back toward the refrigerator. When Morgan almost imperceptibly shook his head and turned toward the door, Theo spoke. “I did that right after Ben died.” He swallowed, then started again. “No. No, that’s not entirely true. I did that after I ran out of beer after Ben died. I hadn’t ever had an issue with alcohol or my temper before, but I hadn’t ever lost a partner of fifteen years either. It was a very bad time.”
“That was the first time you lost your temper?”
“Like that? God, yes.”
“What about since then?”
Theo held out his hand. “I’ll show you.” Seconds stretched out, long and thin between them. His hand felt heavy—weighted—strangely difficult to hold up with Morgan just staring at it, at him, like he didn’t know him at all. “I’ll show you everything if you’ll let me.”
Morgan’s fingers slowly curled around his. They walked to Theo’s study in silence. He pulled down a box from the shelves there, removing the lid, lifting out reminders of some of his very worst days. He passed Morgan a broken picture frame, the glass a spider web of cracks. Ben smiled out from behind the fractures looking relaxed—gorgeous—his legs stretched out as he leaned against his little red Alfa Romeo, glass of champagne in hand, head haloed with cigarette smoke.
“I broke this the first time I lost my shit. Ben loved that car.” Morgan’s eyes lifted, watching as Theo tried so hard to smile. “He died in it. Once I ran out of alcohol to anesthetize myself, I had to deal. I had to. It just took me a while.”
“Who were you so angry with?” Morgan asked.
“Myself. I should have been with him. I should have… I should have done a lot of things.”
Theo took back the picture, not looking at it again as he put it away. “I broke this one just the other day.” He removed another photo frame, the image capturing a moment from their most recent office party. Joel and Evan stood on either side of him, while Maggie made rabbit’s ears behind his head. Theo and Maggie were obviously laughing. Joel and Evan looked across at each other, divided by cracks in the glass.
“Why did you break this one?” Morgan sat on the edge of his desk, cradling the picture in his hands. “Explain to me what happened.”
When Theo didn’t speak, Morgan’s eyes locked on his. “Tell me, Theo. I need to understand.”
Theo scrubbed at his face before replying. “I thought I lost you.”
Morgan frowned. “We weren’t even together yet.”
“Oh, you had me already, Morgan.” He stepped between his legs. “Yeah, you had me already, and finding out… well, even thinking that you were the same age as them made me think I’d lost you too. It set me back there for a while.” He shrugged.
“I’m still not sure I understand why you thought that way, Theo. Were you really hung up on a number? Are you still?” Morgan waited for answers that Theo didn’t have.
He looped his arms around Theo’s waist, resting his forehead on his chest, voice muffled by Theo’s shirt. “I lost my temper too. I don’t do that shit in real life, Theo. I do it online instead, but when you cut me off—” Theo wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him, silently saying sorry. “—I waited at the shelter for Joel for two days. For two fucking days, Theo. Do you have any idea how boring that was? Most of the time I had to wait outside, and it was so fucking cold. I didn’t have Joel’s cell number, or even know where he worked. I hardly knew the guy, but his name was my only link with you.” He paused, dragging in a breath that was a half-choked laugh. “When he finally turned up this morning I kinda lost my shit with him.”
“Oh fuck, that poor kid.” Theo shook his head. “Me, too.”
“I heard you fired his ass.” They both tried hard not to laugh, sounding a little crazy. Theo turned to the box, about to replace the lid. Morgan’s hand over his was warm and firm.
“No, show me the rest. I need to know you. Show me everything.”
Theo did.
MORGAN understood things through touch, then processed everything he learned verbally. Theo thought he was the most tactile person he had ever met. He was unapologetically nosy their first night together, working his way from room to room, asking questions, stroking things, turning to survey Theo’s expression carefully before moving on.
Sometimes he paused mid-inhale, as if he wasn’t quite ready to ask about his current object of fascination. The more times he did that, the more clearly Theo could see him building a body of knowledge, compartmentalizing his belongings into mental categories such as decorative, meaningful, or ask again another time. Eventually Theo parked himself on the couch, carton of ice cream in hand, slowly licking chocolate from his spoon as Morgan brought him things to classify.
A carved figure—its dark wood smooth as silk—was thrust under his nose. “Where’s this from?”
“Um… Mombasa. Or Morocco. Maybe Mozambique? It definitely began with the letter M.”
“And this?” Morgan held an intricately carved ball of jade-colored stone in his palm.
“Hong Kong.�
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Morgan’s blinks were slow as he slotted each new piece of information away. “And what did you think of Hong Kong?” He leaned forward, opening his lips to the spoonful of ice cream Theo held up to him, maintaining eye contact.
“H… Hong Kong?” Theo stuttered, watching him slowly lick stray chocolate from his lips. “I felt very tall there.”
Morgan smiled, dumped his objects of interest on the coffee table, then straddled Theo’s thighs. “Yeah, I did too. I’d like to kiss you some more now. Are you done with your ice cream, Theo?” He didn’t wait for an answer, leaning back, shoving the container onto the table behind him, his torso a long, tight, twisted length, before straightening up again. Theo rested his head on the back of the couch, looking up at him, suddenly feeling not quite so tall.
Morgan jumped as Theo’s ice-cream-cold fingers pushed under his shirt. “Sorry,” he said as he pulled his hand back. “Is this okay?” This time his fingers slid over Morgan’s shirt, moving upward. Morgan nodded slowly. Theo paused before asking, “Are we okay?”
The dark gaze that met his was shadowed, inscrutable.
Behind Morgan, the coffee table was covered—littered—with objects Ben had brought back from their travels. Most of them he could identify, at least guessing the correct continent of origin. A few things just were. Theo couldn’t remember exactly where they came from or what their backstory was. His chance to discover the answers to Morgan’s questions—what made him choose this? Does this mean something? Why did you bring this home?—was long gone.
For the first time, Theo looked at the reminders of his old life and wished he’d asked Ben some of Morgan’s questions himself, instead of taking each object for granted. Why hadn’t he ever really looked at the amazing things that filled their home and just fucking asked what drew Ben to them? The man had been like a magpie, attracted to things that sparkled just for him. Theo used to get quietly pissed at his haggling with merchants—Ben had been completely shameless as he dickered prices down, laying on his charm until he struck a deal that pleased him. It was left to Theo to resolve issues with overweight luggage or extortionate shipping costs.
