Playing with Fire

by K. C. Wells

  Then I smiled to myself. Who am I kidding? I loved it when Pete was on his back, mouth and eyes wide as I drove my cock home. When Pete sat on my shaft, his fingers digging into my shoulders as he rolled those slim hips, his belly taut, his nipples begging to be sucked and teased and pulled on. When I pinned Pete to the bed with my weight, rocking my hips as I fucked the cum out of him, my hand clamped to Pete’s mouth, muting his cries.

  I loved Pete any which way I could.

  I covered him with my body, nuzzling the back of his neck. “That feel good, boy?” I spread him wide with my legs, moving only my hips while I enjoyed every inch of that tight body wrapped around my shaft.

  “Like you have to ask,” Pete groaned. He shivered as I slowly pulled out of him, only to drive my dick all the way home with one hard thrust. “Fuck, I missed this.”

  I pumped into him, short, fast strokes that had him moaning almost instantly. “Yeah, right. You’ve got a nightstand full of toys. I bet your ass is worn out after riding that dragon dildo while I’ve been gone.” Two nights I’d been away, for a conference, and they’d been the longest two nights ever. Not that I’d done without. The first night I’d called him from the hotel to indulge in a little late-night dirty talk.

  Pete’s moans as he shot his load were all I’d needed to get me off to sleep.

  “Haven’t… played with it… once. Was waiting for… the real thing.” He arched his back, tilting his ass higher. “Oh fuck, yeah. That real thing, right there.” I grabbed his hips, pulled him up onto his knees, and mounted him, spearing my cock deep into that hot, tight furnace, anchoring myself to his shoulders. “Yeah, oh yeah, fuck me.”

  Later that night, there’d be loving, and tenderness, and words whispered in the dark as I made sure Pete knew how much I loved him. Right then, a hot quick fuck was just what the doctor ordered to cure all my ills.

  Two nights of no Pete in my bed, in my arms.

  Two days of not seeing him, making him laugh, sharing his day.

  Fuck, what happened? One minute I’d been a self-reliant guy, not needing anyone, and the next? I needed him like he was air.

  And I wouldn’t go back to how I was. Not for a second.

  ~ 0 ~

  Max poured us another coffee, then settled back into his chair. Beyond his office door, the kitchen was quiet: the lunchtime rush was over, and preparations were being made for dinner.

  He’d obviously timed our meeting for coffee with precision.

  “So, how’s the boy toy?” Max’s eyes twinkled.

  I pushed out a growl. “Don’t call him that. And he’s twenty-nine soon. Not exactly a boy, is he?” Not that I hadn’t expected this. Little brothers were supposed to be a pain in the neck, and Max was only living up to expectations.

  Max snorted. “In comparison to your forty years, he sure is. What was wrong with finding a guy your own age?”

  I put down my coffee cup. “I wasn’t looking for a guy. He sort of snuck up on me.” And wasn’t that the truth?

  “And you still haven’t answered my question. How is he? Is he driving you crazy yet? Because after all these years of living alone, having someone else around the place must be a… challenge.” He grinned. “To put it mildly.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Because I certainly was. Pete had slotted into my home and my life like he’d always belonged there. Sure, there’d been disagreements in the early days, but we’d adjusted fairly quickly to a routine that suited us. Those days when my appointments finished early, I was the one to make dinner. When he worked from home, designing gardens, Pete was in charge. And as for chores, we divided them equally. The dishwasher was our friend, and the toilet our enemy, but at least we both had good aim where the latter was concerned. I liked order and neatness, and Pete was a fast learner.

  And on those occasions when he wasn’t, there was always my paddle…

  “Mama thinks the world of him, that’s for damn sure.” Max chuckled. “Her face when you brought him for Thanksgiving… I don’t think she stopped smiling all day. You earned yourself a shitload of points that day.”

  “All I did was bring him along.” Pete had been nervous at first, but I’d reminded him how well Mama’s birthday evening had gone. He calmed down after that.

  “Yeah, but she’d just about given up on you ever bringing a boyfriend to a family gathering, and he makes it to a second one.” Max scrunched up his eyebrows. “Except ‘boyfriend’ sounds wrong. Kinda out of place. Partner, maybe?”

  I said nothing. I preferred my word. Boy. Not that I called Pete my boy all the time. That was mostly for when we were engaged in intimate pursuits. An image rose in my mind. Pete’s head on a cushion on the floor, his weight on his shoulders, while I stood above him, spread his legs like a wishbone and did a pile driver number on his hole. Me gazing down at him, feeling his body squeezing my cock, demanding to know if he was my boy.

  Those eyes, locked on mine, hotter than hell as he nodded. ‘Your boy. Yours.’

  Yeah. There were some things Max really didn’t need to know.

  “Hey, now here’s a thought. Valentine’s Day is coming up.” Max let out a wry chuckle. “Who knows what might be waiting for you when you get home from a hard day’s doing whatever it is you do.” His lips twitched. “You might find him stark naked on a bed of rose petals, with a big red bow tied around his dick.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “Do you think a lot about stuff like that? Naked guys on beds of petals? Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. That stuff doesn’t bother me. Hell, I’ve seen worse in those magazines you kept under your mattress.” I gaped at him, and he nodded. “You think I didn’t know what you were hiding under there? Fifteen years old, and I was exposed to photos of naked men fucking. Scarred me for life.” He smirked. “Actually, it helped me decide one thing. I was definitely straight, because hell, they did nothing for me.”

  I guffawed. “Then you owe me.” I helped myself to more coffee. “And it’s funny you should mention Valentine’s. Pete has been trying—in a not-so-subtle way—to work out what to get me for a gift. He’s been talking about music, books, clothes… The thing is? I have everything I need. I certainly don’t need more stuff.”

  “And what about his gift?”

  I smiled. “Oh, I had that worked out weeks ago. It’s all planned.”

  Max stared at me for a second, then his mouth fell open. “Oh. My. God.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “You’re gonna do it, aren’t ya?”

  “Do what?” He’d truly lost me.

  “Propose to him. That’s it, isn’t it? You got the ring already?” He appeared absurdly happy about the prospect.

  “Pro—” I burst out laughing. “God, no.”

  “It’s not that hilarious a suggestion, is it?” Max frowned. “I mean, you must love him. You live together.”

  There was no way I was about to explain to Max that Pete’s collar was as close as we got—or wanted to get—to being married. “We’re both happy with things the way they are,” I said quietly. “Neither of us want marriage, so why rock the boat? We don’t need a piece of paper to show we’re committed.”

  No. We had that heavy chain around Pete’s neck, that told anyone who needed to know, exactly what the situation was.

  Max nodded slowly. “I guess I got carried away at the idea of standing with you. You know, in a church, with Mama crying her eyes out in the row behind?”

  I was touched. “Well, if we ever change our minds, I’ll know who to ask.” Not that there was much chance of that. Pete was perfectly content with our life.

  Maybe once upon a time, I’d had that dream too, but after so many years of being alone, now that I’d found my corner of Happiness, I was going to make sure I didn’t screw it up.

  Max glanced at the clock. “Want to share some pasta before you go? Donny made this sage tortellini in a butter sauce that’s to die for.”

 
I was about to refuse, but the lure of sage and butter was too much to ignore. “Just a little. I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”

  Besides, if I wasn’t all that hungry when I got through the front door, I could always compensate by taking Pete down to the basement for an appetizer.

  A good, hard fuck always made me ravenous.

  Ulterior Motives

  Pete

  “Well? What do you think?”

  I wasn’t sure where to start. Okay, so it was a well-maintained yard, but there wasn’t that much scope for doing something ‘adventurous’, which was why she’d asked me to take a look at it. “Mrs. Ramos, I—” Her heavy sigh stopped me dead in mid-sentence.

  She gazed at me sadly. “When do you think you might get around to calling me Mama? After all, you’re living with my son. Mrs. Ramos makes it sound like it’s not… permanent.”

  “Oh. I was just being polite, that’s all.” The last thing I wanted was to offend her.

  “I know you were. You’re a polite young man.”

  “And I was going to try to work up to it, honest. It’s just that Damon and I, we’ve only been together a relatively short time. It felt… wrong to leap right in and call you Mama.” I’d assumed that was a word for when we’d gotten used to the situation. And I had no idea when that would be. It still felt like a dream to me. But I knew what she meant about the whole ‘not feeling permanent’ thing.

  I just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  She gestured to the couch by the window, and we sat. “I have a confession,” she said quietly. Her manner was so unlike the feisty woman I’d come to know, that I was instantly intrigued. “I… got you here under false pretenses.”

  I snickered. “That’s okay. I didn’t really come here to discuss your yard either.”

  Mrs. Ramos blinked. “You’re kidding. Okay—you go first.”

  I settled back against the cushions. “I need your help. It’s Valentine’s Day soon, and I want to get Damon a gift he’ll remember. The only problem is, I have no clue. I’ve tried being subtle, but he’s just not biting. So, I figured you might have an idea or two.”

  “I guess saying it with flowers is not going to work? Or chocolate?” Her expression was hopeful.

  I chuckled. “You tell me. Can you see Damon being impressed by flowers or chocolate?”

  She bit her lip. “Maybe not.” Then her eyes lit up. “What about chocolate flowers? Just kidding.” Mrs. Ramos mirrored my body language and leaned back. “It was hell coming up with birthday and Christmas presents when he was a child. I always took the easy way out.”

  “And what was that?” My brain perked up at that. There’s an easy way?

  “Books. Never failed. Of course, I couldn’t pick out the books. Lord, no. I had to give him a gift card and let him choose his own.” She locked gazes with me. “I hate to say it, but the gift Damon values the most? Is the gift where it means something to both of you. There’s something personal about it, or it has special meaning to you…” She patted my knee. “I never learned the trick. Maybe you can.”

  I’d have to think long and hard about that.

  “Okay, now it’s your turn. Why am I really here?” If it wasn’t the yard, then I had no clue. If Mrs. Ramos wanted things doing around her home, she had plenty of kids who’d be there in a heartbeat. And apart from my green thumb, I wasn’t the practical type.

  She fell silent for so long that the skin on my arms erupted in a carpet of goosebumps. “I guess you hit on it with the whole ‘Mrs. Ramos’ thing.” She sighed. “It’s nothing you’ve done, Pete. It’s just… I want to see Damon settled down.”

  Relief flooded through me. “I sold my house and moved in with him. How much more settled do you want him to be?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “How settled? I’ll tell ya. Enough to see my baby married.”

  Oh.

  Before I could say a word, she held up her hand. “I know, I know, I’m being a typical pushy mother. Most people your age aren’t getting married. They’re living together, just like you two. And I know a scrap of paper and a ring wouldn’t change a thing between you… it’s just the way I was brought up. That if you love someone, you marry them.”

  Fuck. How in hell could I reply to that?

  “I do love him, y’know,” I said softly. “Never loved anyone the way I love Damon.”

  The affection in her expression was so obvious, it set off a fresh round of goosebumps. “I know, sweetie. I can see that every time you look at each other. And it doesn’t really matter what an old lady thinks. It’s your life, after all. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I covered her hand with mine. “You carry on saying whatever you want,” I said firmly. “And please, don’t worry about Damon. He has everything he wants, believe me.”

  Mrs. Ramos snorted. “Now that, I can believe.” She cleared her throat. “So… my yard. Any suggestions?”

  “Pave it over and fill it with pots?” I grinned, knowing exactly how she’d take it. She cackled, and hit me on the arm. Then it was down to the real business of sketching out what she could have out there—if she really wanted to be bold.

  It wasn’t until I was driving away that I got to thinking. And what could I have, if I was to be bold? Because sure, Damon had everything he wanted.

  Did I?

  I thought I had.

  I had Damon, in my life, 24/7. I had his collar. I was his boy.

  Then I reasoned that I was only thinking this way because she’d come out and mentioned marriage. Would I have even considered the idea before that? And who said Damon even wanted to get married? He hadn’t said a word.

  Damon wasn’t the kind of man to keep quiet when he wanted something. Ever.

  By the time I got home, I’d pushed the thought out of my mind. Why was I even wasting time on this? We didn’t need a piece of paper. We were solid.

  Except the damage was done. Several times that afternoon, my attention wandered from my task of designing a Japanese garden, and there I was, questioning my feelings. Analyzing our relationship.

  Wondering what the hell Damon would say if I just came right out and asked if he’d ever thought of us getting married.

  Part of me didn’t want to consider how I’d feel if he stared at me incredulously, with that ‘What the fuck?’ look in his eyes.

  I didn’t think I could stand that.

  Coffee and Catchup

  Damon

  February 5th

  “It’s good to see you.” I had to admit, marriage certainly suited them. Brayden had put on a little weight since the wedding a year ago, but that was no bad thing. He looked happier that I could ever recall seeing him, and that was saying a lot, considering how many years we went back. Tim was as laid-back as ever, his arm around Brayden’s shoulders, glancing now and again at his husband, their gazes meeting for just a second. Then it was back to the conversation.

  Brayden took a drink of his latte. “I’m glad you could fit us in. I know you’re busy these days.” His eyes sparkled. “What’s this I hear about a new man?”

  I groaned. “And which little bird told you that?” It wasn’t as if we moved in the same circles anymore. They had their life in Sacramento, and had been blissfully loved-up since they got married. Not to mention enjoying their fill of Sacramento’s gay bars and clubs.

  Tim smirked. “Well, seeing as we had dinner last night at Max’s place… who do you think?”

  “I think I’m gonna kill my brother.” They laughed. “So yeah, there’s someone. And I’m sure Max has told you all about him.”

  “Surprisingly, no. That’s why we couldn’t wait to meet up for coffee. We wanna hear everything.” Brayden grinned. “Like, where did you meet, what’s he like… and does he share the same… proclivities?”

  I speared him with a look. “I keep telling you, don’t go using those big words on me.”

  “That means yes,” Brayden said with a smug air.

  I’d met Brayden in college, a
nd we’d remained friends. Our tastes did not run in the same vein, as I’d discovered when I took him with me to visit a certain store. Not that I’d wanted anything outrageous from Mr. S Leather—I was just checking the place out—but my God, Brayden’s expression when he saw some of the ‘toys’. His eyes were out on stalks.

  As for me? I was in Heaven.

  I sighed heavily. “Okay. Yes. Happy now?”

  “I think we’re more interested in knowing if you are,” Tim said with a smile.

  That was easy. “Yeah, I am. He’s younger than me, but the age gap doesn’t worry me. What matters most is that he fits, better than I ever expected any guy to do.”

  “Thank God for that.” Brayden expelled a long breath. “If you knew how long I’ve waited to see that look on your face again.”

  “What look?”

  He grinned. “The ‘I’m stupid in love’ face. Been a damn long time coming.” Tim nudged him, and he gave a start. “Yeah. Right. Anyhow, we wanted to invite you and….”

  “Pete,” I supplied, smirking.

  “Yeah, Pete—to our anniversary party. We’re a little late in asking, because someone didn’t get his finger out of his ass quick enough, and the venue we wanted got booked up. So we had to arrange an alternative.”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna let me forget that, are ya?”

  “Nope.” Brayden’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “When’s the party?” I got out my phone to check. Seeing as the only non-family parties I’d taken Pete to had been sex parties, a little slice of normality would be good. That was assuming everyone kept their clothes on.

  “February 14th.” Brayden took hold of Tim’s hand. “We thought it would be kind of… romantic. And great for our single friends who always feel left out on Singles Awareness Day.” He smirked. “AKA Valentine’s Day.”

  “Ah.” Bummer. “Sorry, guys, but we have plans for that night. Very important plans.”

  “Do tell. That’s if you feel you can,” Brayden added.