A gay story: When Irish Eyes Are Smiling Ch. 05 *Joel*
“You just want to play with my suspenders,” he mockingly accused.
“Not just, Muffinman,” I parried, grabbing his suspenders and pulling him up to me. Tipping my head to the side, I let my lips brush his as I whispered, “My plans also include riding you into the sunset.” My hands slid up and down his suspenders; I felt his nipples stand up through his pretty, green linen shirt as the backs of my fingers brushed over them.
He shivered, and tried to pull away. Glancing around us at the other people, he said, “We shouldn’t—”
“Hell, if I had my way,” I interrupted his objection, “We’d say, ‘fuck the cake,’ and I’d drag you into the walk-in so I could have my wicked way with you.” I drew him back into my chest for a sensual, lingering kiss. He barely resisted— once my tongue slipped past his lips.
Someone noticed and applauded. I reluctantly left Dev’s soft mouth. He looked dazed. “But someone,” I finished, “Would come looking for us since I’m expected to be in those family pictures, so we’d better be good, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” he agreed vaguely, while staring at my mouth and smoothing his palms up my shirtfront to my shoulders. Wrapping his arms around my neck, he caught my mouth for another kiss, soft and undemanding, but expressive of desire. I hoped it meant that he was going to be comfortable with my family, even though they’d not been welcoming to him initially. I also hoped that if they saw us acting like lovers instead of friends they’d be more accepting of him.
More folks started whistling, banging mugs on the picnic tables and catcalling, “Way to go, Joel!” and “Get a room why don’cha?” which only served to fuel Dev’s exhibitionistic nature. I knew the kiss was getting too hot when he broke away for a gulp of air, but he dove right back in for more. He was just too sweet to resist. His fingers wove their way into my hair, massaging my scalp as I caressed his strong back, teasing his spine.
Beside us, Gabe loudly cleared his throat. Devlin nearly jumped from me. Flushed and breathing a little raggedly, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets in an attempt to hide his partial arousal. With those sexy suspenders and his sheepish grin, he looked like nothing so much as a grown-up Tom Sawyer caught trying to reach under Becky Thatcher’s skirts.
“C’mon, loverboys, Pop’s waiting to cut the cake.”
A resounding, “Aww!” issued from the folk at the picnic tables; it was mainly the ladies who were disappointed. “It was just getting good!” they complained.
Gabe gave Dev and me a sour look that told me he wasn’t amused by us making a spectacle of ourselves at Pop’s party. He may have shown me my first porn flick, but Gabe was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud about public sexuality, any sexuality.
“We’re coming,” I said, looping my arm around Dev’s waist and drawing him towards the door. Gabe mowed a path to the table that held the cake. Massimo had outdone himself. The frosting on the sides had been expertly woven so the cake resembled a basket filled with candied flowers and ripe summer berries. It was almost a shame to slice into it.
Most of the party guests had courteously moved back from the area, giving Katie space to set up and take family photos. She captured a few images of my younger nieces, Bethany and Ariel, and little nephew Conner ogling the cake. Then her husband handed her another camera, and she went to work on pictures of Pop and Rosie in loving poses.
I shook my head. No one would’ve ever suspected that Pop and his older daughter had once screamed at each other like banshees over the running of this pub. That’d been back when Pop was sure Rosie couldn’t know what she was talking about, being a girl and all.
“Good Lord, what have you two been up to?” Mam demanded, stepping our way. “Never mind, I’m sure I can figure it out myself, considering you look as if you just climbed out of the back seat after a drive-in movie.”
She turned her basilisk stare on Dev. “You could’ve kept your hands away from his head, knowing we had a picture coming up,” she said, pulling my comb out of my back pocket and running it through my mussed hair. “Although, he does have lovely hair, so I suppose I can understand.”
“Well, you know how it is, Mam, Dev can’t seem to keep his hands off me—” I began.
“What? It was you who—” Devlin protested, only to be interrupted by John’s sixteen-year-old twin boys and Rosie’s seventeen-year-old son.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Liam said and, along with the other two, smoothly encircled my date. “We couldn’t help overhearing. Sounds like you might need something special for tonight…”
God on high,I thought to myself.What are they into now?
“We have a very comprehensive stock—” Brendan, Liam’s younger twin, added.
“And if you want something we don’t have, rest assured that it can be procured without trouble,” Erin, oldest of the grandsons and Pop’s namesake, finished off.
This was sounding worse by the minute. I thought of intervening, but Mam was still fussing with my hair.
“Take a look,” Liam pulled one side of his leather jacket open. I almost expected to see fake Rolexes dangling from the inner lining, “Need glow-in-the-dark rubbers? We’ve got ’em infivecolors.” He held up his free hand, fingers splayed, as if he wanted to be certain Dev understood how many the quoted number signified.
“If you want flavored condoms, we’ve got the whole fruit rainbow,” Brendan continued, briefly flashing colorful packets.
“We’ve got ones that heat up with friction, ribbed ones, smooth ones, ones with built in ticklers, ones that play holiday music…you know, for those…specialoccasions…” Erin recited, wriggling his brows at Devlin.
I desperately wished that I were invisible right then, for a two-fold reason. One: so I couldn’t be seen in such an embarrassing moment, and two: if no one actually saw me do it then I couldn’t be convicted of murdering my nephews.
“Hell, we’ve even got ones that vibrate,” Liam picked up the litany smoothly, flashing another wrapper for Dev to see. “And if you need a special size, we can accommodate that, too. We carry a line that has any size you could possibly need, from petite to jumbo.”
Devlin’s eyes bugged when Erin flashed that last one at him. I decided on second thought that if I could truly get a jury ofmypeers there was no way they’d convict me, even if the DA was present when I cut their throats.
“Not to mention the one that’s pitch black,” Brendan piped in. “It makes your boner look like it’s been dipped in shinny, black latex,” he grinned, holding it so the motto was visible.Never let them see you cumming,it read.
Dev looked simultaneously appalled and oddly intrigued. I tried to get around Mam, to shut them up, but she blocked me. “Be still, sweetling. If he can take what them boys’er handing out then he can take anything this family can throw at him,” she said for my ears only. “Now’s the time for both of you to find out if he can.” I’d hoped to avoid this sort of trial by fire, but I could see now that it was inevitable.
Erin continued, smooth as a used car salesman. “Of course, if you happen to be allergic to latex, that’s not a problem either. We’ve got a couple of lines that specialize in latex-free love gloves. We can get those colored and flavored too, by the way, though we don’t have any on us.”
“Speaking of which,” Liam’s voice slipped in where Erin’s had left off, “maybe you have sensitive skin or something, and need hypo-allergenic lube? We have access to stuff that’swaybetter than that crap you get in a pharmacy. We could get some that’s flavored, or that heats up. Anything you want, man.”
Having groomed me to within an inch of my life, Mam finally stepped in.
“That’ll be quite enough of that, younglings.” She grabbed the twins by the scruff of their necks and steered them toward John, busy talking with Matthew and oblivious, as always. “You’ll not be told again that you can’t sell things you’re not old enough to buy. Go stand next to your father before I see to it your clackers never drop.” They took their appointed places, grumbling as they did.
Devlin’s head had been ticking back and fourth between the three as they spoke, now he settled on the only one left, Erin, who said, “Give us a call…remember, anything at all.” With a conspiratorial wink, he produced a business card seemingly out of thin air, slick as a card sharp. Devlin took the card reflexively just as Mam hauled the boy away, but Erin managed to get in one last offer: “Oh, and if you ever want someone to guard the walk-in door for you, I’m your man.”
“Shut yer cake holes, the lot of ye. If ye set him to stampeding, ye’ll have to answer to yer uncle, not me,” Pop said, with a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“I won’t tease him, Granda,” promised Molly, John’s eighteen-year-old daughter, the oldest of my nieces and nephews. I could tell she was lying by the way she was sidling up to Dev. “I think he’s cute.”
“You think he’s cute ’cause he looks like a grown up version of that kid who played Tom Sawyer in that stupid movie,Team of Badass Fictional Dudes,” Gabe cut in, echoing my thoughts of a few moments before.
“It’sThe League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and no he doesn’t,” she retorted, planting her fists on her hips and giving Gabe the evil eye. She looked so much like Mam in that moment it was eerie.
“Sure he does. Look,” Gabe snatched my hat up off the rack where I’d set it and plopped it on Devlin’s head. “See? Looks just like him, only old enough to shave.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth made an “O” of surprise. “Oh, he does, doesn’t he? You wouldn’t happen to have a younger brother, would you? Or a cousin maybe…say about twenty?”
Dev winced and looked like he wanted to drop his head in his hands.
“Molly, enough of that.” Katie pulled the girl into place. She’d centered Mam and Pop right behind the cake with Rosie between them, Gabe and John to either side, older kids in front. She stepped back, chewed on her lip, got the spouses where she wanted them, slapped Conner’s small hand as he tried to taste the frosting, and shoved me into my spot.
Satisfied, she turned to Devlin, “Would you mind taking the picture for us?” Without waiting for a reply, she put her most expensive camera in his hands. “It’s real simple, just point and click.”
Poor Devlin looked like he’d just been asked to photograph the royal family…and feared being beheaded if he fucked it up. He stood there, lost. Finally, he brought up the camera, adjusted it for a wider view, and sucked in a breath.
We all said ‘cheese,’ and were grinning like idiots waiting for him to take the picture when he suddenly said, “I don’t have any siblings, Molly, and my only cousin is like, forty and balding. I suppose we could adopt some kid who looks like me for you to date, but Joel would have to mother him. I’m not really the nurturing type.”
The son-of-a-bitch snapped a picture of gaping mouths and bugging eyes instead of smiling faces.
“Oh, and I suppose I am?” I demanded in mock outrage, throwing a flower from the centerpiece at him, which he ducked.
“If the Birkenstock fits…” he quipped cheekily, and snapped a second picture of us all laughing.
Dev took a few more of everyone smiling then returned the camera to Katie. Pop loudly invited people to gather round, and he and Rosie ceremoniously cut the cake. The band returned and started up again. As the waitresses began serving slices, my mother took a moment to thank Devlin for taking the picture.
“You’re very welcome, ma’am. It was my pleasure.”
“Enough of the ma’ams and sirs, you’ll call me Ula, and him,” she pointed at Pop, who was handing a plate to little Conner, “Erin. I don’t care what you call the others. I’m certain that anything you decide on will have been well earned by them.”
He laughingly agreed, and I relaxed. My family was warming up to him at last. It wasn’t long before everyone was happily chatting around mouthfuls of cake. I brought Dev over to sit with my siblings while we had ours. Katie, still taking pictures, insisted on a shot of me giving Dev a chocolaty kiss on the cheek, and another of the lip print left behind.
It took me another hour to make my farewells. The family didn’t care that I was leaving, but the pub’s regulars, some who’d known me from boyhood, wanted to buttonhole me, either to get free legal advice or tell me how proud they were of the man I’d become. As if that wasn’t enough, I couldn’t find my hat. Connor had snatched it and was having a great time putting it on everyone’s head, his own included.
Finally, we climbed into Devlin’s sweet, smoky-grey Beemer. As he put the top down and started up the engine, I set my hat on the floor and scrubbed my face with my hands, trying to think what to say about my family, how to apologize for their behavior.
“I’m sorry about that back there,” I began as we pulled out of the lot and merged with traffic. “I know my family’s clinically insane, but they’re also savvy. They act perfectly normal when they’re in a shrink’s office, and doctors won’t come to see them in their natural habitat, so it’s impossible to get them institutionalized.”
“So you’re saying you knowingly handed me over to psychopaths?” The wind ruffled his blond hair, and the late afternoon sunlight made it glint like gold.
“Um, yeah…something like that.”
“S’kay.” Dev elbowed me and winked. “I don’t blame them for being suspicious of me and protective of you. What I can’t forgive is how you just stood there and let them come at me with hatchets and machetes, especially those nephews of yours. Coward. See if I save your sorry ass when the lynch mob breaks down your door.”
“I was going to attempt a rescue, but my mother thought it was a good opportunity to find out if you could take us. She was right, of course. I just wish it hadn’t been all at once like that…or that it’d been anyone but Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I knew my family wasn’t going to make this first meeting easy, but I didn’t know they were going to pull out the big guns. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t for—” I ran my fingers through my hair, inhaling deeply through my nose. “I think everyone liked you. I know Katie, Pop and Mam did.”
“What? You’re joking, right? Your mom chewed me out for touching you and—”
“Not for touching me,” I laid my hand on his thigh, “for messing up my hair right before the pictures. If she didn’t like you, she’d’ve chewedmyass for letting you muss me, and she did say she understood why it happened,andshe was smiling when she said it.”
“So her chastising me a like a little kid was a good sign?”
“Very.”
“What about your dad? He barely spoke to me, and said he’d let the boys run me off.”
I sighed again. “Dev, if he wanted you gone, he’d’ve ignored the boys; pretended to be engrossed in the cake or something. Instead, he told them they’d answer to their uncle if they ran you off, and he didn’t mean me, he meant Gabe. Believe me, that’s a potent threat. Gabriel’s never someone you want pissed at you, especially if he loves you.”
“Especially if he loves you?” He sounded skeptical.
“Once he’s not pissed at you anymore, he feels horrible about what was said or done. He’s the most woefully contrite person you’re ever likely to meet, and you wind up feeling ten times worse for whatever it was that pissed him off and got you in trouble with him. His remorse is far worse than his bite.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You were great, though,” I said, watching the traffic and sliding my hand up his inner thigh until my pinky brushed his package. He sucked in a sudden breath through his teeth. “And in case you were wondering, I think you look like a 1920s hood.” I turned in my seat, leaning over and bracing myself on the headrest behind him, my right hand picking up where my left had just left off.
“Can I be your G-man?” I growled into his ear, while scratching my nails over the warp of his trouser material, sending little, erotic vibrations through his balls. A pained groan escaped his clenched teeth.
“You’re going to make me crash the getaway car, and Gabe’ll be pissed at us both—and he doesn’t love me, so he won’t feel any remorse when he kicks my butt—”
I was just beginning to nibble at his lobe when I saw we were turning into the entrance to the underground parking of our building and drew back. The guard in his little shack lifted the gate and Devlin almost flew past the ranks of parked cars to get to his space.
“We need to go to my place tonight so I can dig out my camera,” I informed him as he shut off the motor and opened his door.
“What for?”
“So I can get some mug shots of the infamously sexy outlaw I somehow managed to catch.” Giving him a crooked grin and a wink, I put my hat on and climbed out.
Before the elevator doors were even shut, I had him cornered, his hands held over his head in one of mine, the other teasing the crack of his ass through his trousers, and my tongue slow dancing with his. I rubbed against his already engorged cock lightly, giving myself a hard-on in the process. I could feel his heat and his hunger, and every time he tried to apply more pressure to my rolling hips than I wanted him to, I broke contact. I chuckled into his mouth at his wordless complaints, and rubbed against him a little more.
I couldn’t believe how hot my aggression always got him; he really got off on it when I took complete control of the situation. No matter how frustrated I made him he didn’t even try to get his hands free, even though I barely held his wrists. I found myself liking our building’s slow elevators for the first time since I’d moved in.
I burrowed my fingers between his legs from behind and massaged his perineum, while devouring his neck and as much of his shoulder as I could reach. His pelvis danced back and forward in little jerks, as if his body couldn’t decide which it wanted more: to grind against my hard-on, or against my fingers. He panted raggedly into my ear, nearly whining as he grazed his teeth against the crook of my neck.
I think he was on the verge of coming when the elevator dinged merrily, announcing our arrival at the nineteenth floor. The doors retracted with a thump and the piercing yap of a small dog startled us. I disentangled myself from Devlin and took my time adjusting his collar so his shirt lay right. I noticed with satisfaction a silver dollar sized wet patch on the front of his tan trousers and grinned.
The dog belonged to a sour, old bitch that lived across the hall from me. She was always gossiping about the other tenants and I couldn’t stand her or her over-bred, Cousin It-looking pooch.
“Do youmind?” she snapped in a voice made froggy by too many years of heavy smoking.
Taking Dev’s hand and weaving our fingers together, I stepped out into the hall. “Not in the least,” I replied with a Cheshire grin and glanced down at the yapping little, shit factory. “Oh, look, honey,” I said to Dev. “We should get one of those.”
The old biddy made a sound of contempt as she got into the elevator, and I spoke louder, “We could shove a handle up its ass and use it for dusting.” She made a sound of outrage as the doors closed on her and the mutt.
Dev snorted, trying to keep his rubbery legs under him as we hurried down the hall. We tumbled in as I unlocked the door and he moved past me. I barely got it shut behind us before he was pressing my chest against the door and himself into my back. He pulled out my shirttails out and ran his hands over my bared skin, his steely cock poking against my ass. I ground my butt into him for a second, reveling in the sensation, before escaping his groping hands. With a peck on his lips, I slipped away to find my camera.
When I came back, the camera’s strap looped over my wrist and a bottle of lube in hand, he was already undressed. He’d thrown his shirt over the back of the couch and kicked his sandals off; his trousers were in a puddle on the floor. He flung his shorts into the air with his foot and caught them.
“Put your pants back on,” I said, setting the lube aside and pushing him against the front door.
Kneeling, I snagged one of the suspender straps and helped him back into them. I leaned him into the pose I wanted, and crab walked back until I encountered the couch. I took the picture from a low angle, then several different shots, a few with my hat on his head. With it pushed back, he looked guileless as a newsboy; with it cocked at an angle, he looked like a roguish bounder; with it tipped forward, someone who’d sooner shoot you than give you the time of day.
He really got into it, coming up with his own poses and needing little direction from me. I think the photo session excited him almost as much as the scenario in the elevator; his erection never flagged, and the wet spot on his trousers grew. I was aching pretty badly myself, but I wanted one more shot before I put the camera away.
I knelt in front of him again, my open mouth molding the material over the ridge of his hard-on, and forced a powerful blast of air through them. He groaned, gripping fistfuls of my hair and pressing my face harder into him. I undid the button of his trousers and slid my hands up to brush my fingers over his nipples. I nuzzled my lips around until I got the tongue of the zipper up so I could grab it with my teeth and draw it down. His cock leapt out, brushing the side of my forehead, eager for some long-awaited attention.
His fingers relaxed, his hands resting on my head instead of gripping it as I burrowed my face into his pants, giving each of his low hanging balls an open-mouthed kiss. He murmured his approval when I nipped at the base of his shaft before tracing the winding path of one thick, blue vein up the underside with the tips of my nose and tongue.
Gazing up the length of his body, I could see him watching me. I smiled up at him. In my lower periphery, I saw a large, heavy drop of pre-cum trembling on the verge of falling. I caught it on the center of my tongue, delved into his slit with the tip then pulled back, trailing a silvery string between him and me without taking my eyes off his for a second. Dev’s eyes dilated and his cock pulled up toward his stomach, snapping the string. His musk spread through my mouth, making me crave more of him.
“Take it,” he said hoarsely, his tone neither demanding nor pleading, but somewhere between.
I looked at his cock for several seconds, an angry purple for a third of its length, mesmerized by the metronomic quality of its bobbing with his heartbeat. Grabbing one of his firm cheeks in each hand, I kneaded them, while taking his crown into my mouth. I sucked and licked off the coating of pre-cum, feeling his legs shake against my arms. Sucking harder, I leaned forward, taking all of him in as his fingers clenched in my hair again. I moved from the hips, using my entire torso to drag my head back and I felt my cheeks cave in from the suction.
I could see his head thrown back, he was biting his lip, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. I took a breath and dove down on him again, my stomach and groin muscles contracting at the sounds I was eliciting from him. I swallowed around his head several of times extracting a grunt from him for each as payment. Swabbing my tongue back and forth over the throbbing vein, I drew back to gasp several breaths through my nose and slithered my slick tongue under the ridge of his helmet.
I’d only been intending to give Dev a little attention before taking my last picture, but I knew it was too late to stop when he swelled against my tongue, and I saw his abs tense. I readied myself to take the blast barely in time as his cock jerked and pulsed with the first burning gush. He cried out gutturally, his knees buckling. My balls tightened and pulled up, sending powerful waves of tingles through my abdomen as what felt like a river of pre-cum soaked my already wet boxer briefs. I gave him the support his legs couldn’t, keeping him from collapsing to the floor, while he gripped my skull in his strong hands. Surge after surge of his tangy liquor flowed over my tongue and down my throat as I desperately tried to keep up with it.
His hands dropped to his sides, limp and trembling. I climbed to my feet and moved back quickly, to get that last picture before he went soft. He stayed upright, the door at his back propping him up. His heaving chest glistened in the slanting, late afternoon light streaking across him from the blind covered windows. Runnels of sweat rolled down his six-pack; the left suspender had slid off his shoulder, letting his slacks sag low on his slim hips. One last, pearlescent drop of come clung to the tip of his cock.
The words,God, he’s beautiful,rippled on the surface of my mind like leaves on wind-ruffled water.Someone like Rodin or Michelangelo ought to carve a sculpture of Dev just like this, call it Mars Post-coitus, I thought, and grinned.
Dev heard the snick of the camera and opened his eyes, his expression dazed. I set the camera on the end table next to the couch and drew him into my arms, kissing him deeply, caressing his hair and back; expressing with my body what I couldn’t with words. There was the too real fear that if I even hinted I felt more than friendship and lust for him he’d disappear; one moment I’d have him in my arms and the next they’d be empty. I couldn’t bear the thought, so I wouldn’t chance it.
Once I was certain he could to stand on his own, I went over to my small liquor cabinet. I was hurting with the need for release, but wanted to give him a chance to recover first. Taking out the open bottle of scotch, I looked over at him with a grin.
“You want a drink?” I asked as I poured a generous three fingers of the golden brown liquid into a heavy whisky glass.
*Devlin*
A drink? I wanted more than a drink. I wanted—my throat went tight and I wished my body would stop shaking.
I’d been coasting along in this relationship, my early doubts about it long gone, until this afternoon. That’s when the O’Shaughnessys danced rings around me like mocking elves and shaken my confidence to the core. Joel had repeatedly said that they liked me, but I wasn’t so sure. They’d made me feel like I was on trial, and guilty until proven innocent.
Gabe told me why, as had just about everyone else. Joel hadn’t noticed, but after our melting kisses, as he’d dragged me back into the pub, I’d heard a few people whispering, “Looks like he found another Eric,” which had pretty well explained the relentless slew of familial hazing. Every member of the O’Shaughnessy clan wanted to conduct his or her own test and see just how deep that resemblance went.
By the time the Three Musketeers came at me, I was so off balance I couldn’t even find my sword, let alone parry their fencing. I must have looked like a total idiot standing there, all scandalized. Back in high school,I’dbeen the one selling the condoms, albeit just one or two, not a whole sex-shop’s worth. Still, when had I turned into such a prude that kids could shock me like that?
Then there was Molly’s observation that I resembled some kind of wholesome teen heartthrob.
At least I’d managed to pull myself together for the picture and tossed back a little of what had been thrown at me. By the end, however, my ego had been pretty well broken down into pieces and sold on EBay. There was little doubt that I’d fallen short of what Joel’s friends and family wanted for him. I could see that as we were making our good-byes. They’d all exchanged these dubious looks, ones he didn’t see, but I did. Ones that said to Joel, “I hope you’ve made the right decision in this guy.”
Hell, I almost wanted to say it to him myself.”Joel, buddy, as your friend, I gotta tell ya…you really could do better.”
That was the unarmed state I was in when Joel attacked. In the car, he’d played me like a fiddle, and if I hadn’t realized it before, I did the moment he scratched his nails over my crotch. My Goddamn dick was his. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but my traitorous cock had switched allegiances. It would do anything Joel wanted it to do.
If his hand came near it, it jumped to attention, straining against the fabric of my trousers, begging like a dog for his love. By the time we were in the elevator, the rest of my body had followed suit. Complete capitulation to his touch, his kisses. He had my hands above my head and I didn’t even want to break free. I writhed in his grasp, letting him do what he liked, my cock salivating for him, panting to get out. Feeling—
What was I feeling?
The elevator finally came to a stop and as we passed the weird, old biddy and her shaggy rat, I had a moment to catch my breath and recognize just how aroused and desperate I was for Joel. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. We stepped inside and he barely got the door shut before I was pulling up his shirt and trying to run my hands over him. He broke away with a kiss that promised me more, and I fumbled off my clothes
He returned, insisting I put my pants back on and helping me to get them up, suspenders in place. Then he put his hat on my head and started snapping pictures. The camera flashed and whirled and made its digital sounds. Joel directed me at first, but I wanted to regain some control, see if I could shake him up a little. I turned and put my hands up against the wall, letting him see the way the “Y” shape of the suspenders ran down my spine, the outline of my ass against the trousers. Then I pulled down the waistband, stretching the elastic of the suspenders until some of my crack showed.
I heard an intake of breath from Joel and smirked. I could almost feel his eyes raking over me. Turning, I did the same at the front, displaying every chiseled line of muscle on down to the first hint of pubic hair. Joel growled in his throat, and my cock, still thick and waiting for him, got harder. That was always what I loved best, knowing he couldn’t look away for want of me.
Next thing I knew, he was on his knees, his fingers toying with my nipples, his mouth covering my cock, still there in the trousers. I don’t know what he did but it felt as if a flutter of tickling fingers had gone down my straining length. I grabbed his hair. He drew down the zipper with his mouth, letting the folds of my trousers fall back, exposing my throbbing erection. I was so hard it was painful.
He kissed my sensitive balls and twirled his soft, wet tongue up my straining shaft, letting me feel his nose, his lips, his shaven cheek, even the brush of an eyelash as he savored me. Now I was the one watching, enthralled by the sight of him devouring me like a special treat. I caught my breath as he tongued my piss-slit for drops of pre-cum, and my voice went rough as I finally urged him to, “Take it.”
He made me wait, made me wait with every part of my body quivering for him; my poor, starved cock screaming. Then, grabbing my ass, he took me into that warm, wonderful mouth of his. I moaned and gyrated with each pulsing suck, my stomach muscles clenching and rippling. I chewed on my lips until they nearly bled, the arousing sight of Joel’s bobbing head, of him taking me down, making my balls fill up, my legs tremble.
Perspiration started trickling down my neck, over my chest and belly. I couldn’t stop rocking my hips or gasping for air. I felt Joel’s hair under my hands, yet I wasn’t fucking his mouth, wasn’t forcing his head onto my cock. He was in command. He could go all the way down and torment the root of my captive dick—or come up and tease the crown—and no matter how I thrust, I couldn’t get him to change the tempo.
At last, his clever tongue gave me that fatal stroke, the one that tipped the balance. My buttocks clenched. I couldn’t yell; the feeling roiled up from too deep inside—it came out as some sort of animal grunt and my whole body spasmed. Again and again, my cream shot into his mouth. I swear, I almost blacked out.
The world spun around me. I felt Joel greedily swallowing down my come. Then, with a loving lick, he released me. My cock bobbed in the air, naked and ravished. One of my suspenders had slipped, leaving me nearly naked, but I hadn’t the strength to pull it up.
The electronic clicking of the digital camera brought me back. Joel, a smug expression on his face, brought the viewfinder down from those mischievous green eyes.
He’s captured my soul,I thought inanely.
Setting the camera aside, he took me in his arms and kissed me, stroking my hair as if commending me for being a good boy. I trembled there in his arms. Then he stepped away and poured himself a scotch.
“You want a drink?”
That’s when it hit me, the last blow of the day, right between the eyes. I don’t know why it came then. Maybe it was because there was no way for me to deny Joel’s complete control over me, over us, but I finally knew what I was feeling.
Scared. It wasn’t ecstasy alone that had me trembling. It was the terrifying knowledge that I was going to give myself to Joel.
I’d been coyly flirting with the idea since he’d slipped his cock between my thighs this morning, but I hadn’t been convinced. Not until Gabe had brought up Eric.If Eric were ever to return,he’d said, unaware that Eric was back, that he was leaving text messages on Joel’s phone.If Eric were ever to return…Joel would take him back in a red-hot second.And my one, outraged response to that had been a challenging, internalwhy? Why would Joel take back an asshole like that?
More to the point, what the fuck could Eric do for Joel that I couldn’t?
Give himself. You stupid, macho man!was the all too obvious answer.He can give himself like you can’t.
That was it. That’s what it had taken to convert me. Had Joel asked me to do it, I’d have balked and accused him of trying to change me. But put me in a silent bidding war with Eric and I was ready to pass Joel the lube. It was screwed up. I shouldn’t have needed that kind of incentive, but I did.
I was not going to let Eric outbid me!
Sweat cooled on my body; I shakily walked over to Joel. The one suspender kept up my open trousers just barely, and my softening cock, sticky and warmly damp against my thigh, played peek-a-boo. I snatched away his glass of scotch and took a swallow, wincing as it burned a fiery trail down my throat.
“God, how can you drink that?” I croaked, but the heat was what I needed. A little Dutch (or maybe Tartan?) courage. My heart was pounding. Putting the glass aside, I gave Joel a very wet, scotch-tongued kiss. I wanted him identifying me with his favorite liquor; I wanted him to think of getting drunk on me.
Drawing him to the couch, I pushed him down and got that blue silk shirt off him. I pinched and twisted his hard nipples between thumb and forefingers, gazing deep into his eyes. His lips were still parted with desire from the kiss. I sank to my knees, feeling his heart pounding as I stroked his hairy chest. With hands still unsteady, I unfastened the silver buckle of his crocodile belt and slid it free of the loops. A quick release of the button on his trousers and the zipper came right down. His bulge was hard and ready in his gray shorts, a damp spot waiting. I leaned in and licked at the spot, tasting a musky sweetness captured in the cotton, feeling the round head pressing up against the fabric. It twitched as I licked, asking to come out.
Joel’s breath grew short. Rising up, he let me hook my fingers into his shorts and pants and draw them down. He kicked and struggled to be free of them. I went back to his hairy thighs, nibbling and nuzzling, making him spread his legs. He moaned as I took hold of his cock and drew down the foreskin. There wasn’t much to push back. His dick, naked and silky, had already left its sheath behind. The head was shiny with pre-cum. I reached for the lube, wet my hands with it and began to stroke.
He moaned and brought up his knees, letting his balls swing free. I bent my head, inhaling his fragrance, lapping at his warm, furry sacks even as I tried to keep jacking him. His skin was redolent of sweat and bath soap. My tongue made his heavy balls swing, made the nuts within roll and shift.
I burrowed lower, at the spot, which, upon me, he’d been rubbing through my Dockers, that smooth, firm spot behind his balls. I licked at it, pressing as hard as I could with my tongue. A deep groan escaped him and now Joel, arms braced on the back of the couch, had his ass lifted and bucking. I licked deeper and deeper into his crack until I stroked over his hole.
He twitched and gasped and placed his legs on my shoulders, his back sinking down so his ass was higher, spreading open, offering itself to me. All this time, I had at least one hand greasing up his shaft. I let my thumb glide over his piss-slit, mingling lube and pre-cum until it was almost too slick to handle.
“Fuck, Dev,” he groaned, as I sucked and nibbled at soft inner flesh and tongued his earthy crack. “I hope you’re ready to go again ’cause I need you.”
My cock gave a twitch, not quite up to it yet, but trying to do as he asked. “I don’t need to be ready,” I said, coming up for air. Joel’s flavor was on my tongue, mingled with the aftertaste of scotch.
I lifted his legs off my shoulders and got to my feet. Slowly, knowing he’d enjoy it, I let down the other suspender. My trousers fell, pooling at my feet. My throat tightened again, and my pulse raced. I didn’t think Joel would mention my taking the bottom role to my friends, but what if they found out? What would they think of me? What would I think of myself, afterwards?
Even as I wondered about all this, I knew it was nonsense. Why should it matter? It shouldn’t. But it did. It mattered to me and I was scared. I sat on the couch and handed Joel the lube. I prayed he could read my mind, so I wouldn’t be forced to ask for it aloud.
Take me, I would say if I had to. That’s all. I didn’t care how; I didn’t even care if it hurt, so long as it won over Joel.
I rested back on the couch, knees up, and tried to breathe.
*Joel*
I watched him drop his pants and sit beside me on the couch. He wore the oddest expression as he did so and I tried to focus my thoughts. Every time I started to get them pulled together, they’d scatter like dog-chased pigeons in the park—wheeling about for a bit before beginning to reform into a sensible flock again. It took me a few seconds of looking between the bottle in my hand and Devlin’s pose to stop thinking with my dick and conclude that he wanted me to get him hard again. Judging by the way that he’d braced his heels on the edge of the sofa—exposing his sensitive pucker—it was obvious he wanted a little ass play.
Considering what my family and I put him through today, I figured he deserved as much pampering and attention as he wanted. Besides, there was little I loved more than pleasuring him. Any opportunity to worship his body was pure delight for me. Grabbing the throw pillows on my end of the couch, I crawled between his thighs and stuffed the pillows behind him, bracing his back up.
I nuzzled under his sack and he tangled the fingers of one hand in my hair as I slithered my tongue into his crevice. I slid my hands down the backs of his thighs to pull his cheeks further apart with my thumbs. I kept watching him as I found his sensitive opening—alternating between flicking my tongue over it while grazing the edges with my teeth and laving it with the flat of my tongue. His muscles began relaxing, dilating in invitation. I slipped my tongue past his ring, feeling it open further to me. My dangling cock jumped eagerly hearing his moans as he writhed under my ministrations.
Moving back up, I nibbled around his navel, while coating his crack with a thick layer of KY with my right hand and stroking his cock with my left. He gasped at the cold, slick touch on his hot hole; his face changed to that new expression I’d noticed earlier and his cock softened a bit.
His pucker had tightened up again, so I worked on his cock, taking him to the root while stroking the pad of my thumb over his hole in spiraling circles. I watched him closely, working my thumb against his ring to loosen him while gently nursing on his slowly reviving cock. It wasn’t long before I could replace my thumb with two fingers.
“More,” he grunted when I pressed my fingers against his prostate.
It surprised me. He’d never been willing to take more than two at a time, but I happily accommodated him by inserting a third. Seeing his balls start shifting in his sack, I pulled off his cock and leaned up further, covering his mouth with my own.
Was it wrong to want to be the hub of someone’s life? Was it crazy to need someone who wanted to be the core of mine? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t ready to know if he thought it was or not.
I put everything I had into that kiss. My body moved with a mind of its own, my hips rolling in tight circles, my fingers still inside of him, occasionally brushing his prostate. His fingers dug into my back, urging me on. I broke the kiss, needing to breathe, and flicked my tongue randomly toward his ear just as he began rocking his hips with mine. It felt like encouragement; there was no hesitation like before.
Leaning back, I studied his face; looking into his eyes, I saw that new thing in them again. Cupping his jaw, I caressed his cheekbone with the pad of my thumb as the meaning of his expression finally sank in. He was terrified as well as aroused. Stark, cold fear warred with a lush blaze of desire and there was only one thing I could imagine that he could both desperately want and fear, but I needed to be certain that it wasn’t just wishful thinking.
I resettled myself against him hesitantly, positioning the head of my straining cock at his entrance, rubbing the tip over it in little circles as I’d done with my thumb. I expected to see denial flash in his eyes, but he immediately tucked his heels against my ass—flexing them a little to pull me against him.
“Bear down,” I whispered, “like you’re trying to push me out with your muscles.”
I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and his heels pressed into my ass cheeks again. My hips leapt forward, eager to accommodate his unspoken request and my slick, mushroom head burst into what felt like the heat of a furnace; Dev sucked in a harsh breath. I stilled, biting down hard on my lips and urges, forcing myself to give him the chance make room for my invasion. His body quivered around me. The mere thought of where I was, inside Devlin,my Dev, for the first time excited and terrified me. I still saw nothing in his face that said I should stop—and I doubt I could have done so even if I had.
The point of no return had passed, and there was no going back, but I forced myself to take it slow—verbally encouraging him to relax as I inched my way in. I was sweating heavily by the time I was fully seated; our bodies fitted together perfectly, as if we’d been made from complimentary molds. Still I held back, waiting for him to give me a sign that he was ready. He shifted under me, the walls of his tunnel massaging my shaft. My cock flexed, releasing a heavy spurt of pre-cum and I lost what little control I had.
I thrust once, twice. No one and nothing had ever felt this good, like hot, slick, wet velvet. My balls started crawling up and I clamped down on my wild motions.Oh, Christ, not yet, not fucking yet!I thought, knowing if he moved even a little, I’d come and ruin everything.
“Oh, fuck! Jesus fuck! Hold still!” I commanded through clenched teeth, shuddering in his embrace.Think unsexy thoughts…think unsexy thoughts,I chanted to myself—Babe Ruth in nothing but a jockstrap; Tony Blair in lady’s lingerie; Hillary Clinton naked on a cold day.By the time I’d gone over everything I needed to do on Monday for the new case I’d been assigned Friday, my breathing was nearly back to normal, and my heartbeat had slowed from its hummingbird pace.
Devlin hadn’t said anything and he’d held as still as the sculpture I’d imagined his as earlier. He had a wellspring of patience that I never would have credited him with before now. I raised my head to look at him once more—the fear still lurked within his eyes—but his stubborn streak of determination looked to have gotten the upper hand, for the moment at least.
I moved within the grip of his sheath, dropping my hips below his to drag the head of my cock over his prostate with each smooth stroke out, and rotating them as I hit the bottom of each silken glide inward. Before long, he was moving with me, gripping my triceps for balance while rolling his pelvis at the top of each outward stroke so I caressed his prostate from side to side as well as from front to back, and rocking in counter point to mine when I bottomed out.
He grunted and groaned, wordlessly demanding a quicker tempo and a harder drive. Sweat rolled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. It dripped off my chin onto my heaving chest to slide between us. Coiling heat flooded through me, surging like a fever. Fiery coals settled behind my navel. They flared each time his body tightened with pleasure, burning away my control. The embers flared brighter without quite bursting into full flame.
If I could keep the pace I could go on all night, but Devlin’s writhing and frantically clutching hands finally brought the embers into full flame. I sped up and added greater force to my glide. His legs flexed around my hips urging me on. I tried to hold back, to prolong the experience, but he was having none of it. He broke my control by using my own method against me. He consciously began working his muscles around my painfully aroused cock.
“Oh, fucking Hell…” I groaned. Burying my face in his shoulder. My discipline burned away to ash and my animal self seized control. All awareness narrowed to the joining of our bodies as my hips thrust with feral glee.
A flood of exquisite sensation pushed me relentlessly toward the precipice of what felt like a potentially soul-shattering orgasm. Part of me wanted to stop and bank the fire, almost desperately wanting Devlin to reach the pinnacle first. However, the rest of my mind and body insisted it had waited too long and would have satisfaction now.
A change in the deliberate rhythm of Dev’s inner muscles and fresh passion in his vocalizations broke through the haze. Something hit the underside of my chin, making me look down from his shoulder and I saw his cock jumping on his stomach, firing long, sticky streamers of come. The sight of his pleasure shattered the fierce tension in my gut and for a split second, I felt weightless, like you do right before you fall. My awareness drained away with the violent jets of come that pumped up from my balls, filling him and sapping my consciousness, until there was nothing left of me but a shuddering mass of over-sensitive nerve endings.
*Devlin*
The crown of Joel’s hot, hard cock was at my hole, making it flutter with fear and a need so intense it was almost blinding. His long, clever fingers had created the desire; one I didn’t know existed until that first time Joel had touched me inside. He knew just how to caresses and tease that secret gland, sending waves of pleasure through me until my insides melted away like butter.
Jesus, if his cock could do anything like that—
He had left my ass stretched and slick with lube, empty and wanting him. I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wanted this. He was tenderly touching my face, but it was his eyes that kept me aroused. Those deep green Irish eyes focused onme. Seeingme. Desiringme.
I am not going to flinch or back out,I thought, heart pounding, but coward that I was I still couldn’t say it.Do it, I just kept thinking,it’s yours. Take it.
The tip of his cock started rotating in tiny circles, making me gasp and perspire. I swallowed and pressed my heels into his ass cheeks. Inviting him in. His gaze softened then, which, damn it, was stupid. I didn’t want to be thanked for giving him something we both wanted.
“Bear down,” he instructed me, “like you’re trying to push me out with your muscles.”
I did as he said even as his cock head started to push in. I had to fight the urge to balk. The head wasn’t even past the tender ring yet, but I well knew that Joel’s girth was thicker than those three fingers. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. It popped in quite suddenly, and I caught my breath.FUCK!My mind went white with a stab of pain and my ass instinctively tightened up.
Fat lot of good that did. Joel’s cock was still there, a demanding intruder. It felt huge and it hurt like hell. I clenched my teeth, determined not to show it. Sweat built up on my forehead and under my arms.Wimp, I berated myself,fucking sissy. I trembled and forced myself to go back to doing what he’d told me to do. It eased the discomfort.
I quailed as he leaned in. “You’re doing great,” he murmured. His breath was short. He probably wanted to thrust in hard and fast; that’s what I would have wanted to do andoh, fucking God please don’t let him do that—
He was inching in and I had to fight the raw, instinctive panic to shove him off me. I could tell he was putting all his effort into being careful, moving glacially slow, sweat gleaming at his throat. I took more and more of him, letting him fill me until, quite to my surprise, his tight, hairy balls nestled against my crack. My own nuts were nesting in his pubic hair. Amazingly, there was less pain. Even more amazing, my cock was stiff again.
It didn’t take long to realize why. His rod was resting on the magic button, starting to rub it. Automatically, I began to squeeze his thick, hard cock with my inner muscles.
“Oh, fuck! Jesus fuck! Hold still!” he snarled, and I went still, wondering what I’d done wrong. His heart was racing against mine. The sweat between our chests made for a slippery embrace.
I wanted to rock, badly. I wanted to writhe and buck so that his cock would go back to stroking my prostate, wiggle and moan so he’d know how crazy he was making me. I kept still. Joel was shaking and breathing hard, and I wasn’t sure if he was enjoying or exhausting himself.
His eyes locked with mine again, as if checking to see if I really had the balls to see this through. Then his hips shifted down and he began to pump in and out.
“Oh, Jesus—” I groaned, as his slick, hard cock began to relentlessly glide over my prostate. It turned and twisted against the sensitive interior of my tunnel, but most of all, it rubbed at that gland as if trying to start a fire. All pain vanished. Sparks of ecstasy flared through my ass and groin, up from my tailbone. It was indescribable. I felt impaled on his huge, pumping shaft, the rhythm obstinately steady, perfect for keeping me squirming. There seemed to be no escape from the relentless pleasure. I wanted to beg Joel to stop because I couldn’t take it any longer. At the same time, I clung to his trembling arms, never wanting it to end.
I couldn’t even jack my aching cock, which he had trapped between our sweat-soaked abs. As we rocked, it was stroked, the nuts jostled. Like Joel’s damnable thrusts, it was just enough to keep me in a state of maddening, quivering arousal. My lungs were pumping like bellows and I was sure I was going to die from sheer bliss.
Joel kept going. I was lost now, completely lost. In desperation, I consciously flexed my inner muscles, squeezing him as hard as I could to get him to speed to the climax.
“Oh, fucking Hell…” he groaned, and I felt his sweaty face against my shoulder, his hair brushing my neck. Suddenly he was pounding into me, beating away at my ass. I could hear myself screaming, could feel my balls boiling.
My cock shot out its load as if releasing a firework into the sky. For a moment, my senses vanished. I couldn’t see or hear or feel anything but a rapturous high. My body spasmed as I shot again and again. Finally, sensations returned, and I felt Joel go still. He jerked, sweat flying off him, and I felt his hot white jizz spurting into my tender chute.
Done, he collapsed on top of me. His weight was both wonderful and uncomfortable. I wanted him there, but I was out of breath and he was smothering me.
“J-Joel,” I managed, “I can-can’t quite—” I pushed weakly at his shoulder.
He groaned and slid back, his softening cock leaving me. I actually whimpered. That glorious fullness was gone, and all that remained were the slick, sticky-cool remnants of lube, come, and sweat. Joel crumpled onto the other half of the couch.
Wincing, I unbent my legs. For a while, the two of us lay there, cooling down, our breathing quiet. My mind was still spinning, and catching my thoughts was rather like trying to snatch brass rings on a merry-go-round.
I did it, was my first thought. I’d done it and the world hadn’t ended. Quite the opposite. A whole new universe of experience had opened up for me. Yet even as I realized this, I felt my face flushing and I curled in on myself, like some shy, deflowered schoolgirl. To my great chagrin, I found myself wondering if Joel had liked me and if he would still respect me in the morning.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I felt Joel’s hand on my arm, running down it to lace his fingers with mine. I cleared my throat, feeling I ought to say something. “Well, big guy, you’re officially my first.”
He laughed breathlessly. “And once again, you’re my first. I’ve never taken anyone’s cherry before. Was it all right?”
“Amazing.”
“Better than you expected?”
“Better? Fuck, Joel, I didn’t know what to expect. All I had to go on was my high school experience with Nancy Smith, who wasmyonly virgin. She had a pretty painful and uncomfortable time, and I suppose I expected it’d be the same for me. I never in my wildest dreams thought it could end up feeling that fantastic, not on a first go.”
A kind of awe came to his eyes. I guess he’d never had any guy literally put his ass on the line for him. Which was really giving me way too much credit.
“I saw how hard you worked to make it good for me,” I added. “I’m guessing that made it less than stellar for you. Next time, I’ll do better.”
He reached out and put a hand on my head, shaking it a little. “Are you fucking kidding? You were incredible.”
Yeah, I thought with a smile.That’s the same lie I’d told Nancy Smith.
I managed to get myself to the bathroom to clean up. Then I returned and collapsed back on the couch. Joel fetched us bottles of water and made us sandwiches. We ate and watched some television, leaning up against each other in companionable silence. I was so wiped out that I couldn’t remember going to bed. I think Joel hauled me there. I just know that I woke the next morning with his arms around me. The sun was pouring in through the slats. I groaned, feeling sore and little tender. It took me a moment to remember why.
“Morning,” Joel purred in my ear. I felt his stiff cock at my ass and my pulse started racing. I didn’t know if I was excited or worried.
“Joel, man,” I croaked, “I hope you’re not planning a repeat of yesterday. Not saying I wouldn’t enjoy it, but you fucked me pretty dry.”
He laughed and nibbled up my neck to my lobe, tickling it with his hot breath. My own morning hard-on throbbed with interest to spite my statement. It was at Joel’s command, it reminded me, and I had not a thing to say about it.
“We both need a little time off to refuel, Muffinman,” he agreed.
“I wish I could spend the day with you,” I said, rolling on my back so I could gaze at him. It was the nature of the real estate business. Most people had weekends off, so that’s when agents showed houses. I worked with a grandmotherly lady named Paula; she took Saturdays and I took Sundays. Sometimes, like that first weekend, I got an extra day off, but most of the time I did not.
“I’d almost like to go back to your dad’s pub,” I said. Joel’s brows shot up and I laughed. “The beer was amazing. I don’t know how you could end up drinking anything else.”
He snorted. “You weren’t raised surrounded by it, serving it and cooking big batches of Irish stew with it. I didn’t exactly get sick of beer, but when I got to that age when a guy picks out his drink…well, beer was no longer on the list. I’m glad you like it though. Pop imports what he can from Ireland and puts it on tap.”
“I can tell. I liked the food, too. The poached salmon and the leek and bacon quiche…mmm…I could go back there for a slice of that.”
“Well, now,” Joel smiled thoughtfully, “I might be able to accommodate you there. I think I’ve most of the ingredients. Irish bacon, mushrooms, eggs and such. Substitute green onions for leeks. You’ll have to forget about getting any crust, that’s too much trouble, but I could bake it up without.”
“Would you?” My mouth started to water at the thought.
He kissed me. “I can’t refuse you anything.” He slipped out of bed.
I relaxed back on the pillows, beginning to enjoy the morning. “Does that mean you’ll fetch me a beer as well?”
He smacked me on the head. “Ungrateful boy.”
Joel quickly washed up, pulled on some shorts and headed into the kitchen. He put on some B.B. King and I lay there listening to “Don’t You Want a Man Like Me.” I heard Joel’s fine voice playfully singing along, a knife tapping on the cutting board. Three weeks. I’d known him three weeks, and I’d changed more for him in that time than I had for anyone in my life.
I was startled by a loud, rattling buzz. For a moment, I thought Joel’s alarm had gone off, but it didn’t sound right for that. Buzz again. And again. It was Joel’s phone. He’d left it on his night table and it was vibrating so hard it was about to fall off. I lurched across the mattress and caught it.
“Don’t you want a maaaaaaan like meeeeee?” Joel yodeled in the kitchen.
The cell buzzed in my hand, the window lighting up.Eric. It was Eric again. I flipped it open. Another text message.
See u Friday?was the first sentence. There was more, likely a reminder of time and meeting place. I didn’t bother reading it.
“Fuck you, Eric,” I said, erasing the message. “He’s mine.”
It was completely wrong and I shouldn’t have done it, but I was not going to take any chances. I would not lose Joel.
*Joel*
Dev joined me at the table wearing only his boxer briefs. We shared the quiche and read the newspaper together. He took the real estate section and I took the funnies, reading them to him. When I’d gone through those, I read him the front page, while he kept checking to see if anything was new in the home listings, his bailiwick. He went back to his apartment to get ready for the day then we reconnected and walked down toEspresso Yourself. Taking his coffee, he gave me a kiss, and left me at a table doing the crossword.
We’d been having a great run for the past three weeks with evenings and weekends mostly free, but on Monday morning, His Honor, Judge Douche Bag III, saw to it that this next week would be a complete bust for every romantic life in my office. Howard called everyone into the meeting room to tell us what was what. At lunchtime, I called Devlin and broke the news, hoping he wouldn’t be secretly relieved.
“Hey,” I said to his professional announcement of his name, “bad news, babe. All the paperwork on the new case is due Friday morning. I have to work late today and I’ll most likely be lucubrating all week. Ev—”
“Lucubrating? Lucubrating who and what’d he do to deserve it?”
“Hahaha,” I deadpanned a laugh. “Lucubrating means a lot of written work and prolonged study, in particular at night by candle light.
“I knew that.”
“Of course you did. Anyway, for the rest of the week we’re going to be burning the midnight oil. ‘We spend our mid-day sweat, or mid-night oil; we tire the night in thought; the day in toile,'” I quoted for him then gave him my best upper middle class British accent. “Francis Quarles, an English dame known for her dignified whining through prose.”
“I love it when you pretend to be educated. So, okay, I’ll put out a late-night snack and keep the bed warm for you.”
I winced. “I wouldn’t count on me making it home to bed. I’ll probably be sleeping on the office couch.”
He uttered a few, choice and very disappointed curse words, which pleased me. “You’ve got my key,” he sighed. “If you can make it back, come on in. I don’t care how late it is.”
I couldn’t make it home that night, and when I managed to catch a nap, I slept alone for the first time in weeks. I talked with him briefly the next day, finally getting a few minutes online for a video conference.
“The sofa in my office is lumpy,” I complained right out of the gate. I was a rumpled mess in just my shirt, having discarded my tie long before. He, by contrast, was his usual freshly pressed looking self. Rubbing my gritty eyes, I said, “The clerks are working their asses off, God-bless-’em, but they can’t make a cup of coffee worth shit.”
He mentioned that he’d be dropping in on his ex, Cathy, Thursday afternoon to get the gallery information he’d promised my sister. I wondered with bitter ingratitude why she couldn’t just e-mail it to him.Because, of course, they’re still friends,I reminded myself.
I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to concentrate on something other than him and Cathy talking and possibly being alone together. Finally, I stole a few minutes between stacks of depositions to dig the scrap of pink paper Deb had given me out of my wallet. It was dinnertime, but she’d said anytime I needed, so I dialed the number, anxiously hoping she’d be able to reassure me.
“No,” she said, sounding certain of her answer. “That’s definitely not something you have to worry about. First, Dev and Cathy have run into each other now and then over the last few months. If they were going to get back together, they’d have done it before now.”
Maybe, I thought,but what if she gets him thinking about being with a woman again?
“Second,” Deb was going on, “Cathy’s got a new guy who adores her, and she isn’t the type to just throw him over in pursuit of an old flame. Believe me, Devlin had to fuck up a lot before Cathy gave up on him, and this guy will need to do the same.”
“I thought you said Cathy really wounded Dev—”
“She did, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t earn it, which is the third thing. Dev may not be so good at insight or foresight, but his hindsight is excellent. He wouldn’t try to get back together with someone he’d wronged, and he knows he didn’t do right by Cathy.”
“I don’t know how that could be. Devlin’s such an incredible person—”
“He is incredible, but that self-confidence of his lets him act without thinking, which is good if he’s at the gym and runs into some hot, shy hunk that’s caught his eye—”
I blushed.
“—he’ll go right up and ask him out. But that kind of nerve isn’t always so good in a relationship. I remember this one time that a gallery called up, they had an unexpected opening in their schedule and wanted to offer it to Cathy. Dev was the one who answered the phone, and he refused it for her because they had plans to go skiing that weekend. He didn’t even think about it, didn’t even consider asking her. Cathy was furious and Dev, in hindsight, was mortified. He didn’t mean to fuck up, but like I said, he’s not so good with insight or foresight.”
She paused, seeming to brood on that then switched gears. “Anyway, the point is, even if he wasn’tnauseatinglyhappy with you, he wouldn’t be tempted to get back with Cathy. You’re more in danger of him falling for a stranger.”
“Wait a minute, wait—” I said, trying to figure out that hesitancy in her voice. “Back up. Do you think Dev’s going to do something thoughtless to me, like he did to Cathy?”
Another pause, then, “I’m worried that he’s already done it.”
My words nearly stuck behind the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. “And what? You don’t think I’m going to handle it well?”
“Joel, I’m just letting you know what’s coming. Sooner or later, Dev’s going to step up to you, looking like a naughty puppy, and admit that he crossed the line, whatever that line is. You’ll handle it however it deserves to be handled, smack him with a newspaper or kick him out of the house. The question isn’t whether you can handle it, but whether you can accept it. He doesn’t want to mess up, he’s trying his best, but we all have our blind spots. This is his. Cathy…Cathy finally got tired of it.”
“I have to go now,” I said reluctantly. One of the clerks was at my door, another stack of depositions in her arms. “Thanks for talking to me.”
I ate Thai take-out that night, being careful not to spill any on the paperwork. Finally, at one-thirty in the morning, I headed home for some proper sleep. I opened Devlin’s door and showered in his bathroom as quietly as I could. Sighing heavily, I settled into bed next to him. Wrapping my arms around his familiar form, I burrowed my nose into the hair along the back of his neck and inhaled his fragrance. He stirred a bit, but was too deeply asleep to awaken. His warmth radiating into me had a powerfully soporific effect, pushing me into sleep’s current, where the undertow caught me and pulled me down.
The alarm I’d set in my phone woke me at an unreasonable hour, but there was nothing to be done for it. I had to get up and get back to the office. I carefully disentangled my limbs from his, kissing his shoulder and whispering things I’d never have said had he been awake.