St-st-stuffed

by Anyta Sunday

  Karl felt Paul's gaze fall on him; the pull—the need to meet it—overwhelmed him. He smiled. "Was it Gill on the phone before?"

  He swallowed. Shit, he'd nearly forgotten.

  Gillian began to talk, walking as she did, swiveling every so often on her heel. Karl moved closer to Paul.

  "Sue rang, and I—ah—well what happened came out. And then she said she'd come here and take Charlie for a few days. So sorry Paul—I don't know what came over me, but I told her not to. Of course, you should call her back and discuss it with her, I just—" At the smile that crept over Paul's face, Karl stopped. Huh?

  "You're an angel. Thanks."

  "Thanks?"

  Gillian came over, handing Paul the phone. He took it, rushing a 'tell you later'. Karl turned to a flushed Gillian. The way she stared at him, without seeing him, and the small smile on her face confirmed to Karl something had to be going on between her and Tirone. "So, how's his grandma?" he asked, watching her reaction carefully.

  A slight frown and nod. "She'll be fine."

  "When's he coming back?"

  "Day after tomorrow."

  "Plans together for New Year’s Eve?"

  Her cheeks tinged red. "Um . . . maybe."

  "Care to share?"

  She darted a tongue over her bottom lip, then proceeded to outline their plans: short hike (Gillian didn't look too impressed with that part), snow, a cabin, and board games.

  A cabin. Hmmm. "Just the two of you?"

  "I wi—well, no. A couple of others from work will be coming, too."

  The clap of the cell shutting had Gillian twisting to Paul.

  "Tirone said to say goodbye," Paul handed it back to her, "and that you'll have to make it up at New Year’s."

  Gillian's flush deepened. "Right." Paul and Karl exchanged looks, and Gillian snapped, "I know what you're thinking and just—don't."

  "What? We weren't thinking anything . . . much."

  She knocked Karl over the back of his head, and held her hand threateningly toward Paul. "You'd get a clip, too, if you weren't already so beat up."

  Paul laughed. "Okay, okay."

  Gillian turned to Karl, batted her lids. Grinned. "Say, is there any of that chocolate soufflé around?"

  * * *

  "I have got to leave this bed!" Paul looked at him with pleading eyes. "I really don't think the doctor meant I should practically never leave the mattress. I'm pretty sure it's code for 'take it easy'. And the lounge with a movie is still easy."

  "All right." Karl fished in the wardrobe for some slippers. "Put those on, though. I'll just tuck Charlie in like I promised and be right out."

  "You're not going to argue?"

  "Was I supposed to?"

  "No, I just—damn, I would've asked earlier."

  "You don't need to ask my permission for anything, Paul."

  He reddened. "Yeah, well, you'd make a good nurse." Karl shook his head, grinning. Good nurses did not think the things he did about a patient. At least, he hoped not. "You keep me in line. Like with that bathroom thing earlier—" Paul's last sentence came out mumbled and stopped when Karl grabbed at the T-shirt he'd helped Paul into earlier. Their noses touched, then Karl nipped him a kiss.

  Paul sucked on the lip Karl had touched, eying him—yeah, he'd say hungrily—as he moved across the room. Karl chuckled at the light curse that followed him.

  In fact, it might have had something to do with why he raced through Charlie's bedtime reading. "Sweet dreams, buddy."

  "We really going to the big swimming pool tomorrow?"

  "You bet. But you need your rest first so you have lots of energy for it."

  "I'll sleep really hard."

  "Night."

  Paul sat curled on the left side of the sofa, running a finger over the pictures on his cast. He dropped his hand when he noticed Karl in the room, and gave him a smile.

  Karl leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed him. "Do you need me to bring you anything? Need any painkillers or . . .?"

  Paul firmly gripped the back of Karl's neck and placed a slow, tantalizing kiss on the edge of his mouth. "Nope. I managed to open the container before. I think they’re already kicking in."

  Karl unlatched Paul's hand and grazed his knuckles with his lips. "Any particular movie you had in mind?"

  "Whatever you'd like."

  Scanning down the scores of movies Paul owned, Karl couldn't choose. In the end he shut his eyes and picked one at random. Never heard of it. He slipped it in the player anyway.

  With the lights out and the surround on, Karl cuddled onto the sofa next to Paul. Just as the opening credits came up, the phone rang. Karl paused the film. This time he brought the cordless to Paul instead of answering.

  Paul's face blanched. "I'm fine, thank you for the concern . . . I don't think he was intentionally rude, Sue . . . The day flew by. I apologize for not ringing back . . . Well, Charlie's fine, we— . . . You didn't have to do that." Paul bit off his last words. " . . . Right . . . See you then." Paul stabbed the disconnect button and threw the phone onto the sofa between them.

  "I can't believe them sometimes. They're in the city already. They'll pick Charlie up tomorrow morning."

  "What?" Karl glared at the phone.

  Paul sighed. "I should have said no, but at Thanksgiving, after telling me about Laura's grave . . . well, they smoothly moved on to requesting they see Charlie two weekends a month. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't, not after that. I just, I didn't say anything." Paul shifted, and rested his head on the arm of the chair, knees bent in front of him. Karl took both legs and rested them in his lap. "I mean, I understand how important Charlie is to them. And I do feel for them, and I want to help, but . . ."

  Karl squeezed Paul's foot. "I think I get it. It's okay to want to keep that time for yourself and Charlie."

  Paul lifted his head. "Thanks. But since they're here, it just wouldn't be right to refuse them." A moment of silence. Then a shuffle. "By the way, that feels amazing."

  Karl looked down at the foot his hands were massaging. Huh, he hadn't even noticed. "Well, gotta treat my handsome man right now, don't I?" His heart raced as he said it, and his hand tightened on Paul's half un-socked heel.

  An audible swallow had Karl tensing. Then, to dissipate it, came Paul's soft hum. "Yeah. Better treat him really good." Toe wiggle.

  Karl laughed, continuing to rub with one hand as he reached out for the remote. Paul knocked it from his hand with his free foot.

  "What was that for?" Karl asked, befuddled.

  He looked at Paul chewing on his bottom lip and staring at him intently. The screen shed enough light to make out the widened pupils, the slight flush of his jaw through a whisper of stubble. He so surely was handsome.

  And hot. For Karl.

  The thought was enough to send blood rushing downwards. Paul coupled it by gently digging his heel into his crotch.

  "That explanation enough?" Paul's voice came out low, soft, seductive. He nuzzled his toes right where it counted to emphasize his point.

  Karl hissed in a breath.

  Paul struck him with a wide, cheeky smile. "Want to move this to a room with a lock on it?"

  Oh. Hell. Yes.

  Karl dragged Paul to his room and pushed Paul just inside the door. He hemmed his guy against the wall, eliciting a heavy sigh as they met length to length. With one hand, Karl fumbled with the lock. It slid with a satisfying click. The lights were off, but the open curtains let in a milky light.

  Paul's cast and right arm hung limp to one side, but the rest him was taut with energy. Their tongues searched each other's mouths, and Paul's soft groans could have been a promise, a signal he wanted this relationship. Yes. Karl gripped the back of his neck tighter, trailed a purposeful hand over Paul's chest, pausing to pinch his nipples though the thin material, and continued over his crotch until he could cup his balls. Teasing him, Karl moved his lips to blow hot air through the T-shirt, tugging his nipples with his teeth.

&n
bsp; "That feels so . . . fuck."

  Karl clutched a supporting hand on Paul’s waist as the man’s knees buckled. Coming up, Karl laid a soft, wet kiss on parted lips.

  Paul murmured into his mouth, the sound tingling over his wet skin. Then with his good hand, he gripped Karl's elbow, forcing him toward the bed. Karl twisted them last moment, pushing Paul back onto the mattress.

  Within moments he'd freed Paul's cock and chucked his pants to the side. Their silence covered them, warm, comforting. So fucking hot. So incredibly right. Being this way with Paul always seemed to feel like a new experience.

  Karl dropped to his knees, gripping Paul’s thighs as he leaned forward and tasted his cock. His skin was warm and silky, but under that he was hard. So damn hard. Karl licked a circle around his tip, and then inched his mouth over him until Paul was deep in his throat. He hummed around him, feeling Paul jerk forward, arching for more, and Karl sucked and began working him in earnest.

  "Jesus!"

  Karl loved turning Paul on this much. The little sounds that slipped out of his mouth. Irresistible.

  Paul threaded his hands in his hair and Karl could feel the man’s urge to let loose and fuck his mouth. Karl wanted to give him everything. Make him see stars. He increased his speed as he moved his hands to Paul’s ass. When Paul bucked into him with a long groan, Karl slipped a finger along his crack. You're so hot—so fucking amazing. Skin pebbled at Paul’s entrance and Karl gently probed.

  A moan, followed by Paul pushing against his finger. “More.”

  Hearing that made Karl’s hard cock twitch in his pants. He stroked the finger he had inside of Paul and sucked him right to the root—

  “I’m going to come,” Paul said, tugging at Karl’s hair, but Karl wasn’t having any of that—he wanted to taste Paul. Wanted to satisfy him completely.

  “Karl!” Paul bucked once more and stiffened, his ass clenching as he shot down Karl’s throat.

  Karl waited until Paul collapsed on the bed before he withdrew his finger and lifted off his cock. Karl crawled over him, careful of his arm, and rested their bodies together. “You’re beautiful like that,” he said against Paul’s jaw.

  "That was . . . I have no words."

  Karl kissed Paul, sliding off him and onto the bed. "Hey," he touched a finger to the cast, "everything still good?"

  "Good? Brilliant."

  Karl smiled. This time Paul leaned over and ran his tongue over Karl's lips. His cock twitched again. "Might want to calm down there. 'Cause I sure need to."

  Paul glanced at Karl's straining pants. "Pretty sure I could help with that." He arched a cocky brow. Flexed his good wrist. "Yeah?"

  "You're on bed rest. I think we've done enough for today."

  Paul tried to steal another kiss, but Karl dipped out the way.

  "But there's still plenty I could do to you. Let me?"

  The sexy tone of Paul's voice sent a shiver through him. "Absolutely. Just not tonight." Before Paul could persuade him otherwise, he darted off the bed. Used the bathroom. As he washed up, there came a tap.

  "Hmm?"

  Paul came in, pants flung over his shoulder. They stared at each other a moment as Karl dried his hands. Paul leaned back against the door. Averted his gaze to the floor. "Karl?"

  "Paul?"

  He smiled, flicking a look at him before casting his eyes down once more. "W-would you sleep next to me, tonight? I—I really, uh, really liked that last night."

  Karl released the breath he held. Yeah, he'd do that. He'd quite liked it himself. "Only if I can budge you if you snore too loud."

  "Deal."

  17

  Resolutions

  KARL SWUNG CHARLIE in a large circle, whipping water in all directions and dropped him at random. Charlie splashed Karl, the chlorine water going up his nose at the same time he inhaled. Gross. "Again, again!"

  "Once more. I'm getting dizzy." He lifted and arced the giggling boy.

  "Again!"

  "I said once more, you monkey."

  Charlie locked himself on Karl's arm. "Not letting you go." Karl tutted and flung Charlie upside down, cuffing his ankles; his head dangled an inch above the water's surface. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" he cried in a shrill pitch.

  "You sure about that?"

  "Yeeeeah!" A large splash sprayed a couple of other kids nearby as Charlie hit the water.

  The boy stood up, startled, blinking rapidly, then a wide smile crossed his cheeky face. "That was fun, Karly." He turned and scanned the large room. "Papa! Did you see that?"

  Paul sat on the bench a couple of yards from the pool, reading a book, his thick-framed glasses on. He peeked over the edge and sought for his son. Then smiled.

  Karl nodded toward the next pool. "All right, time to go in the kids’ section now."

  Charlie caught Karl's wrist and cocked his head. "Looks like a fish underwater."

  Glancing at his burn mark, he laughed. "Yeah. Sorta."

  "Maybe it will just swim away and you'll be all better."

  What a weird imagination this kid had. He smiled and helped the boy to the ladder, glancing once more at his wrist. Weird. He loved it.

  Large, colorful fish decorated the tiles of the shallower, much warmer pool. Little fountains of water shot up at different times from the bottom. Charlie joined a couple of others trying to pass under the arches of water without getting wet—ah, well, more wet.

  Out of the water, his hair dripping, Karl caught Paul moving toward him with their swim bag, the book pressed under his arm. He passed the gear to Karl and sat on a bench nearest to and with a clear view of the pool.

  "How's the book?" Karl asked, scrubbing his hair with the towel.

  "No idea."

  Karl looked at him.

  "I think I must have read the same paragraph over and over."

  Grinning, Karl asked, "And why was that?"

  "I was . . . distracted." Paul swept a gaze over him, from head to foot, lingering a little in the middle. God, to be able to kiss the small smirk that cornered his lips just then! As if reading Karl's mind, Paul averted his gaze to the pool. "Charlie seems to be having a good time. He likes it much better here than in the hotel pool."

  Karl sat down, placing the swim bag between them. "More stuff for him to do here, and much less etiquette needed than at the Pomodrolly. Ah, no offense."

  Paul nodded. "It's true. But it's more than that—it's because you came here with him."

  "I promised. I only wish I didn't let him down when we couldn't do it the day I said I would. Not until a week later."

  "The wonderful thing about kids is if you tell them you're sorry, they are so quick to forgive. Charlie really enjoys having you around, Karl. He looks up to you. Admires you." He focused on his cast, and Karl wished he could know what he was thinking. A few seconds of silence passed, and then Paul added, "And I can really see why.

  "You make him feel better when he’s sick or down, you cheer him up and show him new things. He's always so proud when he tells me a new word or shows me something new you've taught him. You encourage him to try new things, and if he's scared, you do it with him." Paul pointed to the looping waterslide. "He's never wanted to do that before. You bring out his curiosity even more, by making things . . . fun, exciting. And you're patient."

  Karl felt the heat scorch his cheeks. "Well, I mess up all the time—say things I shouldn't in front of him . . . "

  Paul snorted. "Yeah. But you try to right yourself. When he was two, I made the mistake of licking my bowl after eating this amazing potato soup. For a whole week after, Charlie licked every plate." He shrugged. "Slips happen all the time."

  "Yes, maybe, but I—I don't know how far I can go sometimes."

  A quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

  Karl scrunched his fists in the towel on his lap. "I mean I . . . don't know what my boundaries are. How much can I tell him off, for example—or what to discipline him for. When you're not there, maybe I overreact. I'm afraid sometimes that I
might be contradicting something you've told him. And, like, you're the papa, so your word goes—not mine, but . . . " Karl let the rest of his breath huff out. He wanted to have a say. Maybe even wanted to discuss it with Paul and come to a decision. Together, like. Or even be able to come to a decision on his own. But what really gave him that right? Then again, was it asking so much? He did spend a very good portion of the week with Charlie; he did have to deal with things that Paul wasn't there for. His opinion was valid. Right?

  Paul took off his glasses and rested them in his lap. "If you are unsure on something, I trust your instinct to handle it—but if you're still worried, you need to ask me."

  Karl rested back against the bench. Charlie was cupping water from the fountains and throwing it up to have it sprinkle down on him. Not entirely satisfied, Karl nodded. "Okay, you're the boss." He only meant to add it in a light-hearted, jokey way—to deflect some of the weight he felt inside—but it only spiraled more uneasiness through him. That's exactly what Paul was—the boss. Fuck, for the most part this was his job! Why did he more and more often forget that?

  Paul frowned, but didn't comment on the boss thing. He gave a short laugh instead. "You know, Karl," Paul met and held his gaze, "I don't have the foggiest idea half the time what to do, either. I know I've been a papa four years, but every day is new. I sort of just fumble through it."

  "Well, I'm not an expert, but it seems to me you're fumbling all the right keys."

  Paul graced him with a smile, then returned his gaze to the pool—the same look crossed his face that he'd seen that day in the aquarium cafe. He spoke, his voice coming out warm, "I look at Charlie, and everything makes sense. There are many things I regret in my life, but I don't think, given the chance, I'd change it for the world. Not if it meant not having him . . . " A deep sigh ended the revelation.

  There were many things Karl would re-think and do differently too if he got to do his life over—like the way he’d treated Paul as a kid—but would he change it if he could? If it meant giving up these days, these moments right now with Paul and Charlie? Maybe Paul would have had it better off? He should wish to change it, right? Yes. He should.