by Sean Michael
Damn, it was good.
“Oh, you like that. I can tell. Egg roll? Do you dip?”
The corners of his mouth twitched at Stephen’s words and he waggled his eyebrows, letting his boy know that he’d heard a naughtiness in the words, even though Stephen hadn’t meant them that way. “I do.”
“Let me guess, a little sweet and sour sauce mixed with a little hot mustard.”
“You see? You are meant for me.” He hadn’t even given Stephen any hints, but his boy had just known.
Stephen carefully mixed the sauces, dipped the egg roll, and offered him his bite. He took it, making sure his lips, but not his teeth, closed over Stephen’s fingers. He was convinced that the taste from his boy’s skin improved the flavor tenfold.
Stephen leaned forward, eyes on his lips. “Good, huh?”
“Yes. Would you like a taste?” He met Stephen halfway, pressing their lips together and teasing his boy’s tongue into his mouth.
Stephen’s hands were solid, hot on his chest, his boy kissing him like there was nothing else on earth. He could so get used to this. He planned to get used to it, only not in a way where he became blasé about it. This was special, having his boy’s mouth on his, feeding him sounds.
“I can’t believe I’ve only known you a couple hours.” Stephen blinked at him owlishly. “You must think I’m a slut.”
“I think that you’re feeling the same things I am—that we’re meant to be together and the attraction between us is equal to that—off the charts.” His boy wasn’t a slut, not in a nasty way anyway. “Besides, I happen to think there’s nothing wrong with liking sex. A lot. Liking a lot of sex a lot of the time.”
“I haven’t had a lot of sex for a while. I was scared I was bad at it.”
“Oh, baby, trust me, you’re very good at it.” He dove back in for another kiss. They needed to eat, but his boy’s ego and self-confidence needed to be fed as well.
When he discovered who had wounded his sweet boy’s soul, he was going to rain fire on them. Quite literally.
He unhurriedly backed down on the kiss and tucked his boy against him. “Shall we share the sweet and sour chicken between us and then see if we’re still hungry?” His boy needed sustenance.
“Yes, Sir. I’d like that, very much.” Stephen fed him another bite of the egg roll.
He made sure to taste his boy’s fingers again as he took a bite. “You should have the last of it.”
“Yeah? Did you get enough?” Stephen stroked his lips, looking dazed.
“There are more—I ordered a dozen.” He caught one of Stephen’s fingers between his lips and sucked.
“We can’t…Oh, that’s so good.” Stephen groaned for him, ass sliding on his thighs.
There was no such thing as “we can’t” between him and Stephen. Eventually, his boy would realize that.
Together, they would be able to change the world.
“You’re thick and long. I’ve never taken a cock like yours.”
“No? I’ll fit. You’ll be the perfect sheath.”
“I’m not scared.” No. No, Stephen sounded hungry.
“Good. I can’t wait to take you in as many ways as we can both imagine.”
Stephen smiled, the expression peaceful for the first time since they met. “I know that I shouldn’t be so trusting, but I like you.”
“Your gut knows you can trust me. Somewhere inside you, you know what I know. That we’re two of a kind. Made for each other.”
“That’s like a fantasy. A wonderful fantasy, but a fantasy, nonetheless.” Stephen looked so sad for a moment.
“Fantasy is a good word for it. We live in a fantasy, you and me. But I can be patient until you believe it too.” He had all the time in the world, after all.
“That’s fair, I guess. I think my believe bone is broken though.”
His lips twitched. “Your believe bone? That is utterly charming. And I’ll have to see if I can make it as firm as your other bone.” He cupped Stephen’s very hard cock and squeezed.
Stephen moaned and pushed into his touch. “This bone likes you. Very much.”
“Excellent.” He squeezed again, taking Stephen’s mouth. It seemed it didn’t matter how much they needed to eat, they needed each other more.
Stephen managed to eat a few bites between lazy, languid kisses, his boy’s song growing stronger by the minute. It was intoxicating, being with Stephen, growing with him.
“You want more egg roll?” Stephen couldn’t seem to stop touching him.
“No, I want to roll your egg.” He squeezed Stephen’s cock through his jeans again.
“Oh, Sir. That’s not an egg. Not at all.”
He chuckled. “I know, I was strangling the metaphor. Like to death.” He slipped his hand back so he was cupping Stephen’s balls. “These would be your eggs.”
Stephen’s thighs spread. “Yes, Sir. Yes.”
“I might need to examine them more closely.” He pressed through Stephen’s jeans.
“Oh, you’re touching me. I’ve been so…I mean, I need you. I mean…God, I’m so stupid.”
“Shh.” He pressed a finger across Stephen’s mouth. “No one puts my boy down.”
Stephen’s cheeks were bright red, and arousal flooded the air.
He brought their mouths back together again, pushing his tongue between Stephen’s lips. His boy opened immediately, begging him to come in. He swept his tongue along Stephen’s, then teased his boy back into his own mouth.
Stephen rocked against him, moving nice and slow, his boy’s cock hard as a rock. He shifted them so their pricks rubbed as they rocked together, and then he let Stephen set the pace. For now.
Daddy. He heard his boy’s wish.
He wrapped his hand around Stephen’s ass and encouraged his boy to really rock, to take what he needed.
Stephen gasped, then groaned into his kiss.
He wanted to take Stephen, to sink into his boy’s body. That need had him squeezing Stephen’s ass, digging his fingers in.
“We have to go with them…” Stephen moaned into his lips.
“Then come for me, boy. Let me have your pleasure.”
“I’ll make a mess again.”
He growled softly. “Baby boy…” His boy didn’t need to worry about anything but pleasing Daddy. “You can come now, or I can find a cage to lock your cock in.”
Stephen’s eyes went wide, the shock echoing between, almost as much as his boy’s orgasm.
He beamed at his boy, so pleased at Stephen’s reaction to his words.
Stephen whimpered, hiding his face. “I made a mess, Sir.”
“So? You and your clothing will both clean up.” He nuzzled Stephen’s cheek. “You did as Daddy asked, baby boy. You did well.”
Stephen blushed dark, and he nodded, moaning. “Thank you.”
“You’re always welcome. I think I have some sweats that will be big but have drawstrings.”
“Thank you. I’ll rinse these and then wash them tomorrow at the apartment.”
“You can wash them here, boy. In fact, if we’re going to your area, we should grab you an overnight bag.” He suggested it, hoping his boy would agree.
“You don’t mind? I don’t have to be at class until Tuesday, and…I could hang with you.”
“Yes, I’d like you to hang with me. A long weekend together. Three whole days. It’ll be wonderful.” And maybe at the end of it, Stephen would believe.
“I’ll need to grab my laptop and some clothes and my phone charger. It won’t take me a minute.”
“Shall we do it before we show up at Marc’s work with the guys?” He grabbed a piece of chicken and popped it into his boy’s mouth when he opened to answer.
Stephen chewed, humming appreciatively. “We’d better. If he decides to throw me out, at least my laptop will be safe.”
“I’ve got a suitcase and we have a couple of big guys with us—we can move whatever you want out.” He wasn’t having Stephen lose anything
he held dear.
“I—Do you think he’s going to be so mean?”
“I think that once Berny and France get their claws into him, he’s going to be much happier and therefore not nearly so mean.” He thought Marc was begging to be spanked—hard and often. Some boys needed a strong hand and tons of discipline to prove that they were loved and cared for. Some needed to be gently handled. Some fell in the middle.
He was looking forward to learning how far he could push his boy.
He stroked Stephen’s cheeks. “Let’s go find you those sweats. I bet you feel… soupy.”
“Yes, Sir. Please. I’m gross and messy.”
He glanced at his watch. They had time for a shower. “Come on. We’ll get you all cleaned up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
So polite, with his jeans soaked with spunk.
He drew Stephen upstairs to the luxurious bathroom off his bedroom and stripped his boy down. The soaked curls were dark and coppery, the bush full and thick. Stephen’s cock was long, beautiful, and he touched it, sliding his fingers along it.
“No piercings? No ink?” he asked, and Stephen shook his head. “Waiting for your Daddy to decorate you?”
“I was, yes. I thought…” Stephen closed his mouth and shook his head.
“What did you think, boy? Let me hear you.” He wanted his boy to be confident in his Daddy’s attention and care.
Stephen shook his head. “I just…I wanted it to be special. Something that my—something that meant something.”
“Something your Daddy chose for you?”
“Yes. Something that made me his.”
“I do like the way you think, boy. You’re respectful of yourself, your Daddy, and the lifestyle.” His boy was amazing.
I’m too boring. I’m too old. I’m too ugly.
“You are none of those things and I do not want to hear you denigrating yourself, ever!” His boy was fascinating and beautiful and had the wisdom lacking in someone like Marc.
“What? What? I didn’t say a word!”
“I know what you were thinking though.” He’d read Stephen’s thoughts as clear as day.
“I—” Stephen looked panicked for a second, then relaxed. “Can I use a washcloth, please?”
“I’m going to clean you. In the shower.” He turned on the water, making it fairly hot, then stripped his own clothing off so he was as naked as his lovely boy.
“Oh…a dragon.” Stephen gasped and stroked his hip, the birthmark there clear as day.
He groaned as Stephen’s touch made his birthmark tingle, the sensation traveling through his entire body. “Your touch is special.”
“Is it a tattoo? It’s beautiful.” Stephen stroked again.
“I was born with it.” It was who he was. He closed his eyes and breathed in, reveling in the touch. His cock was rock hard, that touch to the dragon going right to his balls.
“It’s amazing. Beautiful.”
“As is your touch.” His voice had gone rough with need. He thought it was possible he could come just from his boy touching him there.
“I can smell you.” Stephen leaned down, swiping the birthmark with his tongue.
He shuddered, his hands going to Stephen’s shoulders to keep himself steady. “Stephen!”
“It tingles.” Stephen licked again.
He whimpered and curled his fingers around Stephen’s shoulders, holding on. “Uh-huh. Gonna make me come.”
Stephen blinked up and dragged his teeth along Champ’s hip.
He cried out, shouting Stephen’s name as he came hard. Shudders moved through him, the pleasure overwhelming. He’d never felt anything like this. Ever.
Stephen groaned and licked at his shaft, his belly, cleaning him.
He tried to catch his breath, shocked at just how strongly Stephen’s touching of his birthmark had affected him. Other lovers had touched it, had licked it, but it hadn’t been like this, at all.
Stephen stared up at him, and that light shone from Stephen’s face. He cupped his boy’s face, nearly crying at the beauty of it. How could Stephen not feel how special he was?
“You glow, my boy. And you make me feel things no one else ever has.”
Stephen kissed his hip, the caress featherlight.
“And you still haven’t had a chance to wash off.” He helped Stephen to stand, and they stepped into the shower together. It was a big enough space for a party, water falling from the ceiling.
“Oh wow…” Stephen lifted his face to the water, bright copper hair going dark. “This is amazing.”
“Isn’t it? It’s like being out in a warm rainy day. Naked.” He chuckled. “Okay, so it’s how I imagine that would be.”
“It’s wonderful. I’ve never imagined anything so cool. How do you not just stay in here all day?”
“If you were here with me, I would.” He pressed the soap dispenser, gathering soap in his hands and rubbing them together to make a lather. Then he ran his hands over Stephen’s body, taking his time.
Stephen stretched up, offering himself up like a glorious sacrifice. It encouraged him to make sure he touched Stephen everywhere, and he did, eventually cleaning the curls around the lovely cock.
“Have you shaved, baby boy?”
“Shaved. Waxed. Trimmed. It’s hair. It grows back.”
He put his head back and laughed. “So matter-of-fact. Either it’s just not a turn-on, or you haven’t had it done right. With a lover, it can be quite erotic.”
“I wanted it to be. I imagined it was, jacked off to the idea, but…”
“We don’t have time today, but we’ll try it another day, see if we can’t make it the experience you’d like it to be. What was the disconnect between your imagination and the reality?” He carded his fingers through the tiny curls as he spoke.
“I…it’s silly. I feel silly admitting it.”
“I promise not to laugh at you.”
“I want to belong to someone. I want my body, my heart to be someone’s. I want a Da— I wanted a Dom to push me, stretch me.”
“That isn’t silly. That’s what we’re all about. I’m a Daddy—I want a boy who belongs to me body, heart, and soul. I want a boy to push, to stretch, to prove again and again that he’s my own. You want a Daddy—I’m the Daddy you want.” It was as simple and as complicated as that.
“I haven’t known you half a day. I messed up years of time with the others. You have to know that.”
“None of that matters to me, Stephen. I wish you could see the way you glow to me. I feel it in my soul that you’re mine. I know it. And one day, so will you. I’m not like all your other lovers/doms/daddies.” He was eternal, legendary, and Stephen’s.
“They weren’t my daddies. Not at all.” The fury in the words was pure pain.
He met that pain with his certainty. “No, but I am.”
“Maybe.” God, I hope so.
That hope was enough to help him maintain his patience. His boy wanted this; the experiences of his past made it impossible for him to jump in with both feet. “I have faith.”
Stephen stepped close, pushing into his arms. “Just a quick hug, please.”
He wrapped his arms around his boy and squeezed. Closing his eyes, he simply sank into the connection. Stephen relaxed, a sweet sound filling the air between them.
He purred, echoing the song that Stephen put into his heart. This was pure peace, and he reveled in sharing it with Stephen.
“We’re going to have to go back to the real world soon, aren’t we?”
“We need to take the guys to Marc, yes. But we’ll be together and I’ll happily hold your hand the entire time. Then we can come back here and make love or shower together or eat some more or do anything you want to do.”
“You have the time for that? I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I have the time to be entirely at your disposal. Independently wealthy.” He gave Stephen a wink as he said it, trying not to sound too arrogant.
&nbs
p; Stephen grinned at him. “I live on my fellowship. I am not wealthy, but I am independent.”
He grinned right back, utterly delighted. “Excellent. Then we can take as much time as we need.”
“I don’t have to be back at the studio until Tuesday. I can’t miss that.” When Stephen spoke about his work, the expression was relaxed, happy, easy.
“You enjoy your work. What are you doing at the studio?” He turned off the water and grabbed them some towels, then wrapped one around his boy’s shoulders to keep Stephen from getting cold.
“This semester, I’m experimenting with silk screening and hand dyeing.”
“You’ll have to show me your work. But not tonight.” He rubbed carefully, making sure to dry his boy without pressing too hard. He didn’t want to irritate the lovely skin by grating it with the towel.
“I’d love to. And if you’re not interested, I understand. It’s an odd passion.”
“I’m all about odd passions. They keep life interesting. Although I have a hunch it’ll always be interesting with you.” He dried himself off far more perfunctorily.
“You make me feel…special.” Stephen dried his hair and braided the heavy mass.
“Good. You are.” He padded into the bedroom and dug through his drawers to find the sweats he’d been thinking would if not fit at least be wearable. He gave them along with a red T-shirt to his boy.
“Thank you, Sir.” Stephen got dressed, looking adorable in his clothes.
“You’re more than welcome.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and a matching T-shirt, grinning at them both dressed in red.
“Are we too matchy-matchy?” Stephen winked at him, the gentle laughter playing with him.
“We might just be and I’m not sure I care what other people think, so it doesn’t matter.” He held his hand out to Stephen, pleased when his boy took it right away, perhaps even without thinking twice about it.
His phone beeped, the guys eager to go, to find their boy.
He texted back that they were on their way down. He’d drive to the place where Marc worked and the guys could Uber after that. He needed the car to carry Stephen’s stuff home.
“Should I get us a taxi? I should pay this time around.”
“I’ll drive. I tend not to in the city, but we’ve got to pick up your stuff.” He let them into the elevator and pressed the button for twelve—where France and Berny lived.