Life According to Liam

by V. L. Locey

  “I was thinking of going somewhere warm during the All-Star break at the end of January,” I tossed out casually, my fingers playing with his earlobe. “One of the South Pacific islands, I think. Get away from this ice and snow and cold. Would you like to join me?”

  He sat up quickly, yanking his earlobe out from between my fingers. His jade eyes were round with shock.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “I wasn’t sure we were at that stage yet. We’d be public knowledge if we went away together and were spotted.”

  “So?”

  “So I’ve been saying ‘the sinfully handsome and sexy man I’m dating’ on the blog because you were kind of shy about us being a known thing.” He wiggled around to face me.

  “I never told you to be so mysterious.”

  “Well, no, but you never led me to think that you were ready to be seen with me either.”

  “Michael, I’ve not hidden my homosexuality,” I gently reminded him.

  “No, but you’ve not been exactly loud about it either.”

  I sighed. I truly hated the way this conversation was going. I’d walked this path numerous times before, just not with him.

  “Just because I’m not parading across the Roberto Clemente Bridge in a rainbow tutu doesn’t mean that I’m not proud and out.” I placed my wine on the table then turned to look at him. “There are many ways for people to be out.”

  “I know, and I’m not saying that you need to be using a bullhorn to announce that you’re queer, I just said that you’re on the reserve side when it comes to being seen with men in public.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not reserved about being seen out with men, I’m reserved about being seen out with men and having the press make a simple date into something much more. It’s close to impossible to build a normal relationship with people distorting the facts. Imagine having your face and all your personal facts splattered all over some damn blog.”

  “Blogs aren’t all bad,” he reminded me. That took the sheen off my creeping irritation.

  “No, of course not, käraste. Yours is a delight, but there are others that are peddling gossip and rumors. Those are the ones that blow a simple drink with a man into something tawdry.”

  “I know, I’ve stumbled over those kinds of blogs and normally never go back. So then you’re now comfortable with the notion that people, press, whoever may see us and think we’re more than a casual date?”

  “Well, we are, aren’t we? We’ve been dating each other exclusively for nearly two months. I think that’s a sound basis for saying we’re more than…” I floundered for the proper terminology. He leaned in to kiss me, hungrily, his tongue richly flavored with wine.

  “Yeah, I agree. We’re more than.” Then he crawled over me, straddling my hips, pressing his lips over mine while rubbing himself against me. I cupped his ass, keeping his cock next to mine, as we licked and suckled each other’s tongues. “I want to suck your cock down my throat,” he panted when we came up for air.

  “Mm, that would be…what is it?” His sultry expression shifted into something meek, appealing yes, but definitely not as aggressive as he’d looked just a second ago.

  “I just thought—I’d like to state that differently.” Michael’s beautiful eyes lowered demurely then rose, slowly, timidly. “May I suck your cock down my throat?”

  Dear God above but this man was learning how to play me like a fiddle. “Yes, yes you may. On your knees.” He smiled sinfully then slipped off my lap to stand between my thighs. “Just my cock comes out, nothing more. You strip down to nothing.”

  “Yes, of course.” He hurried to take off his clothes. When he was bare, I sat up on the edge of the couch, ran a finger over the weeping head of his stiff prick, and then buried my face in his soft little belly. “Ah, Bryn.”

  Pulling skin between my teeth I sucked a mark on his flesh, right beside his navel, before I released him and let my shoulders tumble back into the couch.

  “Now, on your knees. Remember, only my cock. Work yourself while you suck me. Watch me until I say otherwise, Michael.”

  His eyes smoldered and he nodded just once, kneeling before me then freeing my cock from my jeans. Lips stretching, he sucked me into his mouth, slipping down and down, until his nose rested on my pubic hair. He pulled off, drew in a deep breath, and then went back down on me. Over and over, pulling hard, sucking noisily, he stroked his cock with hard jerks timed with each thrust of my dick into his mouth.

  “I’m close,” I gasped when the tickle in my balls began to radiate outward. He whimpered, mouth on my cock, and I placed a hand to the back of his head, holding him in place. His eyes rolled back into his head when the first spurt hit the back of his throat. I pumped my hips feverishly, and Michael swallowed rapidly, groaning and gasping, spittle and semen smeared over my prick when I let him pull off.

  “Ah God…ah God,” he cried out then came in his hand, his brow resting on my thigh. My fingers slipped into his hair, and I rubbed his scalp as he rode out his release.

  “That was amazing,” I huffed, helping him up from the floor and back onto my lap. I led his mouth to mine, enjoying the slightly bitter taste of me on his tongue. I let my palms roam over him as we kissed. He shifted and slid to the sofa, his hands locked behind my neck, pulling me down with him. I tongued his chin, throat, and then his sensitive nipples, wanting more from him than just oral sex but not sure what it was that I craved.

  “Mm, ah, Bryn.” He lay under me, supple and spent, his body mine to taste and explore. The night was too short, his flesh too intoxicating to take it all in before he left for home. He carded his fingers through my hair while I licked a trail back to his mouth. “We got sidetracked a little. Two questions.”

  I braced my arms on either side of his head, smiling at the horribly knotted mess my grip on his head during that blow job had made of his hair.

  “Only two questions?” I teased, longing for more of him to carry me through a long, dark wintry night. If I asked him to stay the night, would he? He’d never done so. But I had never asked and given the dynamic of our relationship, he might be waiting for me to be the one to broach the subject. Waking up with him next to me would be delightful. “I have one myself, but you go first.”

  Would he stay if I asked? Now that the idea was in my head, I couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Okay, well, why are you not playing in the All-Star game because, hello, you’re the best goalie in the league, and did you really just invite me to spend several days on a tropical beach with you?”

  His green eyes sparkled like a highly-polished emerald. I lowered my lips to his, hungry again for more Michael.

  “They didn’t ask,” I whispered then tickled the corner of his mouth with the tip of my tongue which made him squirm a bit as he tried to chase the kiss. “And yes, I did.”

  “Stupid All-Star people and holy shit-cakes! Did I say yes? If not, I want to say it now before you change your mind.”

  “Wonderful, I’ll call my travel agent in the morning and get her to set things up.”

  He grinned widely and began chattering about how he couldn’t wait to tell Kelly in the morning, how envious she would be, the daycare they’d have to arrange for Liam, and how mad his nephew was going to be at him. I nodded, dropped a small kiss to his nose, and then slipped off the sofa, tucking and zipping as he stood up then began dressing.

  The man was pure energy when I walked him to my door. I was happy that he was happy, of course, but a small nugget of disappointment sat low in my belly. Perhaps it was too soon to be asking for such a thing. I knew he had responsibilities at home with his family. A Christmas party at the library for the children’s group he and Liam attended was on the docket for the morning. Probably last-minute wrapping of gifts, some baking. The big day was only two days away. All of this I knew. Yet, the hazy romantic image of waking with him in my arms lingered. Was I falling in love with the man? As he talked while
calling for a ride, I mulled that thought, chewing on it like a dog would a bone.

  “I finally did it.” I glanced up from his winter boots to his face. “I’ve finally bored you into a coma with my stupid prattle.”

  “No, that’s not it at all.” I took him into my arms, tucking his head to my shoulder, inhaling the warm scent of his hair. “I was just…contemplating how much I’ve come to care for you.” I burrowed my nose into his hair, pulling in that wonderful smell of man and shampoo. “I cannot wait to take you south and make love to you on a beach.”

  “Mm, I can’t wait either.” He lifted his cheek from my shoulder. “Just to be super clear, when I write my blog post tomorrow, I can say ‘Good Grief! I’m taking my first vacation in over four years with Bryn Mettler, the man that I’ve been seeing steadily for two months.’”

  “Yes, you can say that. Also make sure to toss in how talented I am.”

  “On the ice or off?” He waggled an eyebrow.

  “Both, of course.”

  He laughed, grabbed a tender goodbye kiss, and left me standing alone in my lovely, elegant, lonely home to meet his waiting Uber. It took all I had not to yell at him to come back.

  “Oh, Bryn, you are far past falling for the man. You already fell.”

  Perhaps I would tell him that he’d stolen my heart when we were watching the sun set on a Polynesian beach. I’d start planning now.

  Eleven

  Mike

  The morning after the big talk with Bryn, I threw myself down on the bed beside my sleeping sister. Her head came out from under the pillow, eyes still closed, and she scowled right at me.

  “Can I get a side of marinara with my platter of meat?” she asked then fell right back to sleep. I bounced up and down again snickering until her eyelids finally opened.

  “Morning!” I beamed, lying next to her, my temple resting on my hand.

  The glower I got could have peeled the blacktop off the street out front. “I was dreaming about Jason Momoa,” she snarled rabidly.

  “But you said a platter of meat.”

  “And who was supposed to be the meat platter?!”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I sniggered and got another deadly look. “I hate to wake you up early on your day off, but I had to tell someone about what happened last night with Bryn.”

  Kelly rolled her sleepy eyes and lowered her voice to imitate me. “Kelly, I got laid. It was phenomenal. He’s the best lover in the world. Oh, damn, I love his forceful ways.”

  I stared blankly at my sister. Well shit. I guess I did bend her ear a bit about Bryn’s marvelousness, but who else could I gush to? The dads at the library? The moms at the park after lunch? The gay hockey romance author? Okay, possibly I could gush at the gay hockey romance author…

  “Actually, no, I didn’t get laid.” Her eyebrows flew up into her messy bangs. “Well, oral sex happened but that’s not sexual intercourse just ask Bill Clinton.”

  “Michael.”

  “Right, sorry. Bryn said I could tell the world that he and I are dating. That’s a big step, don’t you think?!” I stared at her openly, waiting breathlessly. She yawned in my face. “Ugh, your breath smells like four-day-old gas station sushi.” I gagged, politely.

  “Fuck. You. Mike.”

  Kelly rolled to her belly and tried to hide back under her pillow. I pulled it out of her hands which started a pillow war that only ended when I was on my stomach on the floor being severely beaten about the head with an extra-firm pillow.

  “Okay, I take it back.” I laughed. Kelly slipped off my lower back, taking her pillow with her. I rolled to my back, panting, and then sat up. “So, aren’t you happy about Bryn and me?”

  “I’m happier now that I got to whip you with a pillow,” she tossed over her shoulder as she crawled back into her bed.

  “Then you’ll want to bludgeon me to bits with a bolster when I tell you that he’s taking me to some tropical island during the All-Star break.” The grin broke free. Kelly’s mouth fell open just a bit.

  “Oh my God, really?!” Her voice cracked a bit making me wince, but I nodded vigorously then leaped to my feet. I pulled her from the bed, and we danced in a circle, celebrating the fact that I’d finally found the one, or the one that I was pretty sure was the one. “When? Where? For how long? I need details!”

  “We’re not sure yet,” I said as we made another wide circle.

  “Liam is going to be…”

  We kind of slowed the celebration a bit, the giddiness ebbing. Yeah, Liam was going to be something that was the opposite of happy.

  “He’s going to have to go to daycare,” I sighed, holding onto my sister’s hands tightly.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “He hates change. He’s going to hate it that I’m off with Bryn and he has to be with new people.”

  “Mike, he’ll be fine. All kids hate change at first, hell, adults hate change at first too. Maybe this will be a good thing for all of us. He’s going to start kindergarten next year, a year in daycare or preschool would do him wonders.” She nodded firmly, but I could see she was worried as well. Liam was a precocious child, prone to fanciful notions and speaking out, which is something we’d encouraged, but perhaps that penchant for saying what was on his mind would not serve him well with other kids and a teacher. “Mike, seriously, you’ve given up years of your life for us. Maybe it’s time for you to live and for us to stop relying on you so much.”

  “But I like having you two rely on me.” I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed.

  “Why’s we hugging?” Liam asked as he shuffled into the morning hootenanny and hoedown, his new stuffed Cap in his hand. “Is someone sad?”

  “No, sweetie, Uncle Mike is happy because Bryn and he are getting serious,” Kelly explained, scooping her son up to kiss his cheek. I reached out to ruffle his hair.

  Liam seemed a bit confused as he slid an arm around his mother’s neck and sat on her hip.

  “Serious means that we’re very happy with each other and want to keep dating,” I elaborated, the boy seemingly understanding that a little better.

  “Like me and Cap?” Liam asked, tucking Cap under his little chin.

  “Are you dating Captain America?” I asked. He nodded and kissed Cap right on his felt face. “Then yes, it’s like you and Cap, only with no irate Stucky fans to tear us down.”

  Kelly giggled, Liam yawned, and I padded off to get breakfast on the table, leaving son and mother to cuddle for a bit. We’d talk about the daycare/preschool thing later. We had time to figure out what was best for the boy.

  An hour later, we were all settled in my car, Liam in his car seat, the holiday cupcakes on the seat beside him. Kelly was using this hour or so of peace to wrap presents from Santa. Then I was handing Liam off to his mother so that I could do some last-minute tweaks to a new website I’d built for a local deli and hopefully get a blog post up. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve day, and Kelly had to work until five p.m. The following day she didn’t have to go in until six, which still sucked but the old folks needed care no matter if it was a holiday or not.

  “Okay, so we have pre-holiday errands to run today,” I told the phone resting in its cradle. “There’s a party at the library where Liam is going to sing with his reading friends.” I looked back over my shoulder and got a thumbs-up. Well, a thumbs-up in a mitten but it counts. I looked back at my phone. “Then after the library party, we have to go buy some baking stuff to make cookies for Santa. And then, after that we’re going to stop at the bookstore for some—”

  “Can we go down the hill that makes my penis go weeeeeeeee!?”

  Oh-kay. So much for the bookstore quip I was going to make. I looked at my nephew in the rearview.

  “I’m not really sure which hill it is that makes your penis happy, bud.”

  He gave me a look that screamed how much of an idiot he thought I was. Even Stuffed Cap appeared put out with my stupidity.

  “It was a bumpy rock road,” he stated as if that
were all the knowledge I’d need. “And when we go down it, you say, ‘Crazy steep bitch!’ and then tell me not to say the bad words that you say because Mama will make you cry.”

  “Oh! You’re talking about Canton Avenue.” Liam nodded knowingly, which was kind of entertaining. “Those are cobblestones not rocks, but that’s over in Beechview, which is fifteen minutes in morning traffic out of our way and in the opposite direction.”

  “Uncle Mike, Cap is new and has never had a happy penis ride.” He leaned up as far as he could to shove Cap into the back of my head.

  I deadpanned the phone. “Who am I to deny Cap a happy penis?”

  Canton Avenue was just as steep as ever.

  The holiday meal was simply lovely. I know as someone who touts themselves as a writer of sorts—I do pen blog posts—you’d think I could come up with a better word than just lovely, but in all honesty, lovely was the word. Maybe magnificent could also be bandied about.

  Bryn had joined us later in the day after the early morning chaos and paper-shredding insanity was over. He’d come bearing gifts and snowflakes resting on his wide shoulders and dark brown hair. I’d insisted on giving him my gift—a new wallet—right off the bat. He raved about the quality of the leather and kissed me sweetly on the cheek as Liam and Kelly sat watching.

  “Now you can hand out your goodies,” I announced, feeling quite merry despite the four a.m. wake-up call from Liam.

  Bryn dug into the large festive bag he’d carried in. For Kelly, he had a petite, red clutch purse with a gold chain strap that she held to her chest and stroked as if it were a kitten. Liam got a new goalie stick, regulation and sized for him, that had been signed by the entire team. Yes, I was jealous and pouted over that until Bryn pulled me into the kitchen, the aroma of honey-glazed ham hanging heavy in the room.

  “You’re a very difficult man to shop for,” he said, backing me into the fridge, his eyes heating up as we stood mere inches apart.