by Jay Hogan
Between them, Josh topped almost exclusively now, though he always offered it up to Michael just in case. Once or twice he’d taken Josh up on it but mostly he seemed happy to bottom. It was a dramatic turnaround, but one Josh didn’t dare mention. Not that Michael was a passive partner, hell no, but he did seem to enjoy a little manhandling, and Josh was more than happy to oblige. He’d do almost anything to see that blissed-out expression on Michael’s face when he came undone at his hand.
Josh’s softening dick finally slid out of Michael, a perfect ending to a great day. The surf lessons had been fun, and Michael had done better than expected, though not as well as Josh who’d had some board experience under his belt. They’d laughed themselves into tears more than once, grabbed meat pies and eaten them picnic style for lunch on a blanket on the sand, and then gotten caught in traffic on the way home. They’d filled in time trading amusing stories about their families and growing up.
They’d made it home by six for pizza and a movie, although the movie hadn’t made it further than the opening credits and the pizza lay half-eaten on the lounge floor along with most of their clothes. Round two had at least gotten them into the bedroom, where they’d remained.
Michael hummed contentedly, dragging Josh’s arm over his chest. “You finally done with the sleepover down there?” He chuckled.
Josh nuzzled the man’s neck. “You mind? I guess I never really checked out what you think about me… ah, taking my time, I guess.”
He turned in Josh’s arms and kissed his nose. “It’s nice. It’s… well, it’s you. And it’s kind of a compliment. Makes me feel too good to leave. Better than hightailing it, right?”
Josh felt his cheeks burn, thankful they’d left the lights off for once. “Maybe you are,” he said softly, “too good to leave, I mean.” Michael went still in his arms and Josh didn’t follow up.
But Michael quickly relaxed and brushed warm lips over his in a tender pass. Josh opened instinctively. He loved kissing this man; it was damn near his most favourite thing to do. This thing between them had moved so far beyond “just sex” that Josh couldn’t even remember passing the sign. They were making love, time and again, day after day, and he could no longer pretend otherwise. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Michael caught Josh’s soft cry in his mouth and tugged him closer, pressing gentle kisses along his jawline as he filled Josh’s head with cruel wishes and hope.
“Mmm,” he hummed contentedly against Josh’s throat. “Whatever am I going to do with you, Joshua Rawlins?”
Josh thought, anything, everything. But more importantly, he thought, what the fuck would he ever do without Michael? He couldn’t begin to imagine. But even if they moved to the boyfriend label, they still hadn’t solved the whole “but he lives in the US” issue. Ugh.
JOSH WOKE up pretty much as he’d gone to sleep: wrapped around Michael, who lay sprawled on his stomach, sheet discarded, exposing a rather enticing rear end. He trailed his fingers lightly over the man’s hip and across his crease, aware of his morning wood morphing into something a little more demanding of attention. He was such a goner for this guy.
He slid a finger between Michael’s cheeks, gently brushed his hole, and the man twitched. Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart. Wakey-wakey. Keeping an eye on Michael’s still-closed eyes, Josh reached for the lube under his pillow and slicked his fingers before delving back to Michael’s crease. This earned him a definitely interested hum. Risking the full enchilada, he dipped his finger in to the first knuckle and Michael pushed, back sliding it home.
Josh leaned over and kissed his ear. “Morning, sunshine.” He gently added a second finger and began a slow fuck.
Michael wriggled and lifted his arse in the air. “You gonna play preschool games back there or you gonna bring out the big guns?”
Josh nipped his ear. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Michael squirmed, his arse clenching around Josh’s fingers. “Well, considering you’ve earned yourself a frequent flyer card down there over the last month, by now you pretty much only need to look at me sideways and my ass seems to throw open the door all on its own.”
Josh laughed. “So I take it you’re ready, then?”
“Give the man a balloon. Now fuck me, wolf-man. And make it hard, so I can’t get up for breakfast. I’ll need pancakes, by the way… in bed… in case you missed that part.”
Josh snorted. Nope, the guy could never be described as passive. But then Josh could take instruction with the best of them.
THEY’D CLEANED up and were curled in bed, facing each other, Josh laughing at Michael’s pitiful assessment of his fitness to walk, a sad ploy to get that breakfast in bed that Josh was still holding out on, when the front door flew open and a distressed shout shattered their postcoital calm.
“Dad!” Sasha.
“Joshua.”
Fuck. His mother. And that hackle-raising tone that heralded she was on the warpath.
Josh leaped to the edge of the bed, dragging the sheet from Michael as he scrambled for his boxers. But it all proved too slow to head off his daughter, who burst into the room and immediately stopped short, eyes wide. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Behind him, Michael swore and hauled the duvet across to cover himself.
“Dad? Mickey?” Sasha sputtered, her expression drawing down into an angry frown and no small amount of betrayal and hurt.
Goddammit.
“But, Dad, you promised—”
He caught the hitch in her voice. Oh God. Oh God. “Sasha, I….”
Marie Rawlins stormed into the room and nearly ran into the back of her granddaughter. Catching sight of Josh and Michael in bed, she froze, slack-jawed. Josh might even have found it funny if it weren’t so damn mortifying.
“What the hell is going on here?” the woman hissed, her gaze flitting between Josh and Michael, who was making a first-rate attempt to crawl under the covers and disappear. His mother gripped Sasha’s arm. “Get out of here, child, now.”
But Sasha just kept staring.
Pat Rawlins appeared at his wife’s shoulder, took one look, and fled to the safety of the hallway. To be honest, Josh couldn’t blame him. There were altogether too many people in his bedroom as it was. And that’s when it hit him. It was his fucking bedroom not theirs. And barring not being upfront with Sasha about Michael, he had nothing to be ashamed of.
He took a breath and steeled his nerve. “Mum, enough—”
“Shut up,” his mother snarled, shooting daggers at Michael while pushing Sasha roughly toward the door.
“Mum, let her go. I’ll handle this.” He held his daughter’s angry glare.
Marie Rawlins turned bright red. “No, Joshua. Enough is enough. I will not allow my grandchild to see her father and some, some… filthy—”
Sasha whirled on her grandmother. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that.”
“You be quiet,” his mother snapped.
And that was it.
“Enough!” Josh barked. His mother’s mouth opened to argue further, so he threw out a hand. “I mean it, Mum. One more word and you and Dad are out of here.” He watched her struggle to swallow whatever venom she was about to unleash, fairly vibrating in self-righteous fury. Well, too bad. “The two of you can wait in the lounge. I’ll be out after I’ve spoken to my daughter.”
His mother locked eyes with him, her disgust and disbelief written in every clenched, disapproving line on her face. But Josh held fast and stared her down until she spun on her heels and huffed out, whereon he crossed immediately to Sasha and dropped to his knees. He pulled her into a hug.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said, stroking her hair. “Michael and I, well… I didn’t lie, Sasha, we aren’t boyfriends, yet, not really. It isn’t serious like that. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He winced at the half-truth and glanced over at Michael, shaken to see the obvious hurt in his expression. Damn it all to hell. There was no way Josh could do this right for the other man’s feelings, not w
ith Sasha in the room, not in a million years. But he couldn’t be worried about that right then.
He turned his attention back to his daughter, whose anger had dissolved into soft sobs. “I just didn’t want to say anything too soon. I didn’t want you to be disappointed down the road if you didn’t see him anymore, so we kept it quiet,” he explained.
Sasha pulled back to look at him. “But why wouldn’t I see him? He likes us, doesn’t he?”
Josh sent an imploring look Michael’s way, and to the man’s credit and Josh’s eternal gratitude, Michael joined them on the floor.
“Of course I like you,” Michael said softly. “And I’m having a really good time doing stuff with both of you. I like your father a lot, but I don’t live in New Zealand, you know that, right?” He glanced at Josh to check if he was handling it right. Josh nodded.
Sasha nodded too. “You live in California.”
Michael squeezed her hand. “That’s right, and I have to go home sometime. I can’t stay here. So, it’s complicated. Your dad was only trying to protect you from getting hurt.”
Sasha looked between the two of them. “But you’re not leaving yet?”
Michael turned to Josh, who took up the reins.
“No, sweetheart,” he answered. “Not yet, but things between us might change before then. This is new between us.”
She stared at him, and Josh caught the first glimmer of ease in her expression. Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. “I guess. I like him, though.”
“I know, sweetie, I do too. Enough to want to be more than friends with him for a while and that’s why he stayed the night, but it’s still not the same as a boyfriend.” Only because you haven’t asked him yet, dickhead.
Beside him, Michael leaned close to Sasha. “The most important relationship is the one between you and your dad. That one always comes first.”
He felt Sasha finally relax at those perfect words, and Josh could have kissed the man.
“Okay,” she finally said, then eyeballed her father. “But we’re gonna have a talk.”
Josh sighed. “Absolutely.” Then he stood. One down, two to go. Give him strength. He kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Now, how about you go out with your grandparents and let us get dressed. I’m not talking to them in my underwear.”
Sasha frowned and shot a glare into the hallway. “I hate them.” As if that explained everything.
Josh sighed. “I’m getting the picture. Now scat, and we’ll be out in a minute.” She did as she was asked, and Josh turned to Michael, who was slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed.
“Hey.” Josh reached for the other man, but Michael pulled away. “I’m sorry I said….”
Michael raised his palms. “You don’t have to be. I get it, what you said, I get it. Sasha needed to hear that you hadn’t let her down. You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“But—”
“Right now, you need to go sort out whatever’s happened between your parents and Sasha. Just tell me how I can help.”
Josh pulled him into a hug, grateful for the man’s understanding, but Michael didn’t return the embrace, a million miles from the intimacy they’d shared not fifteen minutes earlier. Josh’s gut churned. Fuck, fuck, fuck. But it wasn’t something he could smooth over now.
“Could you maybe take Sasha outside while I deal with them?” he asked.
Michael nodded. “Of course.”
They got dressed hastily and in silence, and when Josh entered the lounge, his parents turned as one, glaring at both of them. He nodded to Michael, who placed a hand on Sasha’s shoulder.
“Get your filthy hands off my granddaughter,” Josh’s mother hissed, moving to where Sasha was slowly backing herself against the wall.
Josh stepped between them and eyeballed his mother. “If you can’t hold your tongue, you can leave now, but you better take a good look at your granddaughter because it’s the last you’ll see of her for a long time. And that man there,” he indicated Michael, “is more welcome in my home right now than either of you, so I wouldn’t push it.”
Marie Rawlins clenched her jaw but said nothing.
Michael dropped to his knees in front of Sasha and took her hands. “Come on, sweetness. Let’s get Paris fed and play some ball.”
Sasha looked between Josh and her grandparents, clearly unsure about leaving them alone, but Michael rested their foreheads together and Josh’s throat tightened at the sight.
“Let’s go,” the doctor repeated. “Your dad will talk to you after.”
She took another look at the three, then nodded. “Okay.”
Michael took her hand and led her out the back door, closing it firmly behind them.
Josh sighed and turned back to his parents. “So help me God, this had better be good,” he warned them.
MICHAEL DID his best to distract Sasha, chatting and throwing the ball between them while Paris tried desperately to intercept, but the young girl’s gaze returned to the house every minute or so, her frown deepening. She’d said not a word about what had happened with her grandparents other than repeating how much she hated them, and Michael hadn’t asked. It wasn’t his place, though he couldn’t ignore how his heart ached for her.
Truth was, he was still reeling, trying to come to grips with how much had changed between him and Josh in the span of a half hour. How such a great night and start to the morning had turned into such a mammoth shit-fest in a matter of seconds. Just when Michael had finally convinced himself that he and Josh could do this, try being together in the long-term, Sasha had arrived home, and as quick as that, it became clear as a fucking bell that Josh was still keeping Michael in the maybe basket. He may have apologised, but Michael could read the writing on the wall. And maybe that was simply karma, after how he’d thrown away everything Simon had offered him like a piece of trash?
It was a much-needed wake-up call. As he’d listened to Josh explain what they were or rather weren’t to each other, things became crystal clear. Josh needed to put Sasha first—hell, Michael would do exactly the same. And when he’d seen the confusion on the little girl’s face at finding Michael in her father’s bed, it had wrenched at something deep in his chest. He’d been a selfish prick putting her and her father’s relationship at risk like that. Nothing new there.
Josh was a good man with responsibilities, with a daughter to protect, with a decent life. He’d already been fucked over once and had bigoted parent issues that screamed for his attention. The last thing he needed was someone like Michael, a man with a sackload of his own issues, and not even living in the country, to add to Josh’s worries. No, Josh needed a steady, stable partner worthy of him, and that sure as shit wasn’t Michael. It was about time he stepped up and put his own needs second for once, God knows it had been a long time coming. He needed to salvage what he could of his dignity and get the job done.
When the front screen door slammed and a car headed up the road, Michael caught Sasha’s eye. “Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s see if that father of yours is still alive.”
He was, slouched in a living room chair, his face pale, eyes closed, looking totally fucking exhausted, and Michael’s heart physically pained at the sight of him. Josh stirred when they entered, and opened his arms to his daughter. Sasha launched herself at him and burst into tears. Michael found himself wanting desperately to do the same.
Father and daughter rocked and hugged for what seemed the longest time, while Michael looked on, a pang of grief stabbing at his chest for the impending loss of something he’d never thought he wanted. Watching the two of them, he recalled being rocked in those same arms himself. Jesus Christ, could this day get any worse?
Josh caught his eye over Sasha’s shoulder and held it, the thank-you unspoken but clear as day, those liquid chocolate pools burrowing into Michael’s heart, a heart Josh already owned. Knowing what he needed to do, Michael winced. Yeah. The day could definitely get worse.
“I should go,” he said.
“Leave you two to talk.”
Josh frowned but then sighed. “I suppose we need a bit of time. Thanks. But, ah… we’ll talk soon, right?” Josh looked done in but also… troubled.
Fuck. Michael nodded, then collected his stuff from Josh’s bedroom. On his return, Sasha was running her fingers through her dad’s hair, the worry stamped on her face. It almost broke Michael’s heart. Josh’s gaze locked on his, but Michael couldn’t hold it and glanced away.
“Right, I’m off,” he said.
Josh scooted his daughter to the side and stood. “Go empty your backpack, sweetie, while I walk Michael out.”
Sasha ran up to Michael for a hug, and he obliged, wondering if this was the last time he’d have the opportunity. His eyes pricked.
She pulled back and eyeballed him. “I wasn’t really mad this morning,” she said. “I do really like you, Mickey.”
She kissed his cheek and ran off, leaving Michael’s throat tight and tears threatening to spill. He got to his feet, shaky at best, and ran his hands across his face in an effort to hide the emotion. He sensed Josh’s gaze burning deep.
“So,” he said, amazed at how fucking calm he sounded when his heart was ripping in two, “the parent thing. Redeemable or not?”
Josh put a finger to his lips and waved him to the back porch. Michael followed with his bags. Paris raced up to snatch his owner’s attention, and Josh obliged with a half-hearted scruff around the ears. He remained standing a few feet away from Michael, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The body language couldn’t be clearer, the atmosphere between them awkward as hell.
“My parents had friends around last night,” Josh began, barely above a whisper, “and although Sasha was supposed to be in bed, she overheard a conversation about me being gay. Now I’ve only heard their side, of course, so it’s likely to be watered down. Sasha will no doubt have a different take. But let’s just say what they were more than happy to admit to saying was totally unacceptable, bigoted, and hateful. It was all the usual stuff about my sexuality choices, and parenting screw-ups, and so on. But this time there were a few charming additional insults thrown into the mix that included my lifestyle being disgusting and irresponsible, and that Sasha shouldn’t be exposed to that vulgarity, and that I was brainwashing her with all my fag friends.”
