by M. J. O'Shea
“I’m not. Just… Jesus. Most of my house could fit in this one room.”
All of it probably, but Tyson wasn’t going to add that.
“Come into the kitchen. I usually eat in there.” He led Avery into the warmth of his favorite room in the house. Tyson was aware of the irony. He spent a lot of time in the kitchen for how little he actually cooked. It just made him happy.
The kitchen was vaguely dated by then, too much ’90s white, birch floors, yellow walls, and granite. Tyson figured it was fine, though, especially at the way Avery was staring in awe. He still made a mental note to remind Mrs. Peggs that they were going to look into contractors. Tyson gestured at the table where dinner was covered, with steam escaping out of the seams.
Calm down….
He was doing that thing he did, apparently, when he got too excited about Avery’s presence. He’d like to say it was a habit of his, but he had no idea. Nobody had affected him like Avery before. All of this was very new. Including the rush of nerves currently making his mind race a mile a minute.
“So, macaroni and cheese, salad, and a fruit tart with vanilla ice cream. And wine. You like Beaujolais, right?”
“Y-yeah. That would be great. This all looks amazing.” Avery looked around. “Where’s your housekeeper?”
Tyson laughed. “Oh, she’s up in her suite, watching TV. She has her own living room upstairs so she doesn’t have to stay down here. You might see her, though. She’s very curious about you.”
“Feels a little like meeting the parents.”
“It’s exactly like that. She’s basically my mom. Or has been for a really long time.”
Tyson didn’t have any memories of his real mother other than vague flashes from long ago.
“No pressure,” Avery said sarcastically.
Tyson just laughed. “Come on. Let’s eat.”
He sat Avery down and dished them both out salad and pasta, and then poured wine. It didn’t take them more than a few bites to start talking, just like they always did.
“You’re going to have to show me the rest of this place,” Avery said. “It’s incredible. Seems to go back forever.”
Tyson didn’t go in half the rooms of his house. It was meant for a large family and all their staff and was far too much for him and Mrs. Peggs. He wouldn’t have been able to bear parting with it, though.
“I’ll show you around after we eat. This house has so much history.”
“Creepy history?” Avery asked. He did that adorable forehead wrinkle thing that Tyson loved.
“This is New Orleans. It has to be a little creepy, don’t you think? Other than that, we wouldn’t fit in.”
Avery giggled a little at that. “Just as long as it’s not, like, ghost tour material. I don’t want to be scared here at night.” Avery seemed to realize what he’d just insinuated and clapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean—”
“Hey. It’s fine.” Tyson leaned across the kitchen table and kissed Avery. “I wouldn’t want you to be scared here at night either.”
Avery blushed hard and shoved a gigantic bite of salad into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed and tried to look anywhere but at Tyson’s eyes.
“So, um, we’re meeting Macy and Donovan after this, right?”
Avery already knew exactly where they were going after dinner. Tyson thought it was sweet how flustered he’d gotten from just one innuendo, a pretty damn mild one at that. But it also felt coupley somehow, reminding each other what the plans were later that night. It felt good. Kind of like a precursor to packing each other lunches and trading kisses before work. And if that wasn’t the weirdest thought Tyson had ever had, he didn’t know what was.
“Yeah. But we don’t have to be there for an hour or two. There’s plenty of time for dinner and a tour. Don’t worry.”
“This is amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this? Don’t tell me you have a certificate from culinary school too.”
He did. But he kept that to himself. There had been a wild year or so in Paris right before he’d met Mrs. Peggs where he’d skipped his tea more than he drank it and partied all over Montmartre. Tyson had loved that brief time in his life, but it would be nearly impossible to tell Avery about it without getting into the age thing and, well… a lot of other things. So he brushed it off.
“I just really love to cook. That’s all.”
AFTER dinner and a tour of Tyson’s unbelievable house, the two of them called a cab to take them to the bar. Macy had already texted to let Avery know they were on the way. Avery was looking forward to the night even more than he had the last time they were there. It was going to be completely different going in with Tyson, like he belonged somehow, rather than walking in alone and nervous to be in a new place.
Tyson held his hand the entire cab ride over and refused to let Avery pay. Then he knocked on the door to the club, and with a brief smile at the doorman, he led them both in.
It was earlier than it had been the past two times they’d shown up, and the club was much sleepier this time. Avery had a chance to focus on the colors and the decorations rather than be completely bowled over by everything else. It was still incredibly beautiful, even after a bit of the mystery had worn off. He noticed for the first time a lit courtyard through the back door. That wasn’t a surprise—most old homes in the Quarter were built around an interior yard shaded from the street—but it was crowded with planters and lit up with strings of bulbs, and there were plush-pillowed wicker sets in groups all over.
“Can we go out there?” Avery asked. “I didn’t notice it the other times.”
“Of course.” Tyson chuckled.
Avery watched as Tyson said something to the man at the door to the backyard. He had a sneaking feeling that not every club member could come to the courtyard. There was another bar and much quieter music playing than inside. As exciting as the inside was, the outside was downright romantic. The building was tall around them, and everything outside was warm brick and lit with tons of lights. If the inside was some sort of steampunk fantasy, the outside was a fairy tale. Avery stood and stared for a long time before he was ready to move.
They both ordered a drink and sat and chatted for a while before Avery heard Macy’s laugh.
“We’ve been looking for you two forever. Isn’t this adorable?” She sat on the love seat across from where Tyson and Avery were seated and waved at them.
“I just wanted to see outside. It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
The four of them sat outside and talked and joked until it got a little chilly. Then they went in to Donovan’s usual booth and continued on. After a few Nightcrawlers, Avery was just about ready to crawl onto Tyson’s lap. He couldn’t keep from touching him; he also couldn’t help noticing that half the bar watched them.
“You have a lot of fans here, don’t you?” Avery whispered.
Tyson looked around and shrugged. “Why does it matter when you’re here?”
Avery snorted a little, but his insides were melting.
“Hey.”
He looked up at Tyson. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been fantasizing about waking up to your face all week. Somehow I think I’m going to want to do that for a long time.”
“Yeah?” Avery whispered.
“Yeah,” Tyson said. “Sometimes you just know, don’t you?”
Avery let out a little squeak and kissed him, audience and all. He felt like he was with royalty. He wondered if he was right in a way.
DRINKING and chatting turned into dancing. Tyson was tipsy for once and loose and handsy, and Avery was in heaven. They danced and kissed off and on for hours. There was something about the dizzying combination of alcohol, lights, and the scent of Tyson’s skin that went straight to his head. Avery wanted to be closer, closer. He slid his hands under Tyson’s T-shirt and teased them along the warm, sticky skin of his lower back. Tyson leaned over and kissed him, slow drugging kisses that seemed to never end.
&n
bsp; “I can’t stop doing that,” he murmured.
“Why would you want to stop?” Avery asked. He pulled Tyson in for another kiss and practically wrapped his leg around Tyson’s hip right there on the dance floor. Tyson groaned and hauled Avery up against his body.
“More,” he murmured.
“All of it,” Avery whispered back.
When they finally tumbled back into the booth, Macy and Donovan looked like they were gathering their stuff.
“We were thinking of going somewhere late-night to get a bite to eat. Do you two want to come?” Macy asked.
Avery gave Tyson a heated look. “No,” Tyson said. “I think we’re going to head home.”
Avery tried to ignore Macy’s smothered giggle.
THE ride to Tyson’s house was long, to say the least—even if the actual distance was short, it felt like forever, as things often seemed to when something incredible was waiting on the other end. Avery and Tyson held hands but mostly kept to themselves on the ride. If Tyson felt anything like Avery, though, it was pure unbridled torture not to touch. He wanted to lunge across the taxi seat and straddle Tyson, slide his hands between fabric and skin, kiss and touch and feel everything. The ride was interminable.
By the time they got to Tyson’s house, he was just about ready to jump out of the cab and sprint for the front door. Tyson let him pay the fare after a brief argument, but then he put his hand on the small of Avery’s back and led him to the entrance at a fairly clipped pace. Like… the desperate kind. Avery had to say, he got it. The night had already been far too long. And clothed.
Tyson got the door open and keyed in the alarm code. He shut it behind him and armed the alarm again. Then he gestured toward the stairs and smirked.
“Second door on the left. I’ll follow you.”
Avery ran up the stairs with Tyson laughing and running behind him. It was exhilarating, and he almost tripped a few times. He made his way to the second door on the left, a heavy wood door painted cream like the rest of the trim. Then he turned the handle and pulled.
Avery had only seen the downstairs and the grounds before they’d run out of time earlier and had to leave for the club. Tyson’s room was just as impressive. It had high ceilings and thick molding, parquet floors and an enormous bed. That was about all Avery managed to see before Tyson was crowding behind him, wrapping him up in strong arms.
“I can’t wait to taste you again,” Tyson moaned.
“Please,” Avery was past caring if he sounded needy and desperate. He was needy and desperate.
Tyson slid his hands up the front of Avery’s shirt and unbuttoned it while he kissed up and down Avery’s neck. He slid the shirt off his shoulders and unbuttoned his jeans next.
“Wait. Shoes.” Avery struggled to toe off his shoes and socks. Tyson used that moment to take off his own shirt until they came together bare, the skin of Tyson’s chest warm and velvety against Avery’s back.
“Come here,” Tyson said. He led Avery to his bed and pulled him down onto it.
His bed was high and soft, and it smelled like him. It was covered with the most incredible sheets. Avery had that fleeting feeling again that he was in a fairy tale. It only intensified when Tyson came to him, naked, pale, and glowing in the moonlight.
Avery breathed out quietly and stared for a moment but then gestured for Tyson to come to him. Tyson crawled up the bed and leaned over Avery for a kiss. Avery finally had the freedom to explore all of Tyson’s beautiful skin, run his hands over satiny perfection, and lean up to kiss the junction between his shoulder and collarbone.
Tyson moaned and reached down to finish the job he’d started with Avery’s jeans. “I need to see you,” Tyson said. He finished with the button and pulled the jeans and briefs down Avery’s hips before flinging them onto the floor. Then he finally lowered himself completely, and Avery got a full-body shiver when they came into contact. All skin, warm and satiny and beautiful. It was like heaven.
“What do you like?” Tyson asked.
Avery didn’t even care. He wanted everything with Tyson. It didn’t matter what came first.
“Everything,” he huffed out with a laugh. “I just… all of it.” He wrapped his leg around Tyson’s hip.
“I think I can work with that.”
AFTER that it seemed like literal magic. If Avery thought he hadn’t felt anything like Tyson’s kiss, his touch was ten times more devastating. The way he tasted Avery’s skin with such reverence, slowly licking across Avery’s belly, suckling the heat of his cock. It was heaven, and Avery never wanted it to end.
When he finally got to touch Tyson in return, taste him, make him moan, it was like he’d been waiting for literal years. Tyson gave him his freedom to lick and suck and taste as much as he wanted until his back was arching and he started to breathe hard.
“Hey, babe. I’m gonna come. Not yet.”
Avery lifted his head. His lips felt bruised, and he was aching to get closer. “Okay.”
“You ready for more?”
“I was ready for more last weekend,” he said.
Tyson grinned, then hopped off his bed. “Be right back.”
He came back with lube and condoms in just a few moments. He dropped them on the bed and lowered himself on top of Avery once again. “You’re so warm,” he murmured.
“I feel like I’m about to explode.”
“I completely understand.”
Tyson clicked open the bottle of lube and slicked his fingers generously. “This okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Fuck, yes.” Avery bent his legs and let them fall apart, making room for Tyson. Tyson kissed him deeply, and soon Avery felt the warm, slick insistence of Tyson’s finger at his entrance. He pushed in slowly, painstakingly, and groaned into Avery’s mouth.
“So tight. I can’t fucking wait.”
“I’m ready,” Avery said on a groan.
“Bullshit.” Tyson kissed him again and slowly added another finger to the stretch.
It took them long breathless minutes, an age of pleasure and moans and arched backs, before Avery was about to spin out of control and Tyson deemed him ready. Tyson disappeared for one cold moment, and then he returned, crawled between Avery’s thighs, and bent over to suck a kiss behind Avery’s ear.
“This is going to feel amazing,” he whispered, then slowly started to push in.
It had been a while for Avery, but he never forgot how much he loved the bite of pain at that first stretch, how much he loved to be filled, how good it felt when a thick cock was hitting him in all the right places. And even if he’d loved it before, that feeling had nothing on this.
He threw his head back when Tyson started to move, slow rolls, then sharp snaps of his hips that had Avery’s vision blacking out. He started babbling then, curse words and Tyson’s name, mumbled sounds and cries and panting in Tyson’s ear. Tyson grunted and slowed down, stroked long and deep as he whispered endearments in Avery’s ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Avery clutched his ass and pulled him closer. “I can’t get deep enough, close enough.”
“You feel so good.” And he did. The pressure was building, a dark rolling wave that built in his groin, melting and ready to burst.
“You need to come?” Tyson asked.
And that was all it took. Avery dissolved into his orgasm with a few more long, deep thrusts. He grabbed at Tyson’s skin and shouted out his pleasure, then held on as Tyson shook above him when he found his own release.
“Jesus.” Tyson collapsed on top of Avery. “That was….”
“Intense as hell.”
“The best sex I’ve ever had.” Tyson dropped a tired kiss on Avery’s forehead.
Probably the best I ever will have too….
AVERY hadn’t woken up in a man’s bed in… a very long time. He’d never woken up in a huge old bed with a carved headboard and piles of bright white expensive sheets that smelled like Tyson and warmth and sex. The morning light streamed through the
window, and a few carved dark wood palm leaf ceiling fans kept the room from being too hot.
He hadn’t looked at Tyson’s room much the night before. They were busy, and it was dark. But in the light of day, it looked nothing like the hipstery palace Avery would’ve expected for Tyson. There were no band posters, no guitars, only art and books and the contrast of dark wood floors, heavy creamy molding, and rich blue walls and pure white everywhere else. It looked like the kind of room Avery wouldn’t mind spending a day in, lazy and warm with Tyson’s long arms around him.
Tyson stirred behind him and dropped a kiss on the back of Avery’s neck. “Morning,” Tyson said in a sleep-rough voice.
Avery shivered and wriggled closer to Tyson. They were still naked and a little sticky from humidity, but it felt incredible to be surrounded by Tyson’s skin and his warmth. He ran his fingertips down Tyson’s arm.
“Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?” Tyson asked.
Avery chuckled. “Sore. Amazing.”
“Sorry I got a little bitey last night. You’re just so fucking hot.”
Avery hid his head in the pillow and blushed like a teenager. “You can’t say stuff like that when I’m naked in your bed.”
“Why? It’s true. Look at you.”
Tyson took his arm from around Avery’s waist and ran his hand down Avery’s pale arm, then cupped his palm around Avery’s hip. “I could stay in here with you all day.”
Avery chuckled. “You think Mrs. Peggs would mind going out and getting us food if we become shut-ins?” He turned in Tyson’s arms and brushed a kiss across his forehead. His mouth tasted a little sour from drinks and a long night of kisses, but he still wanted to be close. A quick shadow slipped across Tyson’s face.
“What?” Avery reached up and rubbed out the crease in his forehead.
The look cleared like it had never been there in the first place. Tyson smiled indulgently at him and kissed his forehead, his nose, and then dropped a small, closed-mouth kiss on his lips.
