Always

by R. J. Moray

  “We’re very happy for you,” Gloria said, holding out an arm for Channon to hug her. He did, and then he peeled away, feeling self-conscious but good about it all.

  “Thanks. Um. Jack, do you want coffee?”

  Jack kissed him on the mouth. “I would love coffee, sweetheart.”

  On the far side of the dining table, Aaron made a face. “Gross. So gross, don’t even.”

  “Don’t be homophobic,” Sasha told him, tapping away on her phone without looking up.

  “I’m not! I’m just…ugh. Adults kissing.”

  “Grow up,” Sasha said, and when he kicked her, she kicked him back.

  Business as usual, then.

  Channon ducked into the kitchen to check the coffee machine. Jack’s dad was there, a book open on the kitchen counter beside him as he polished off a plate of toast and eggs.

  “Good morning, Channon,” he said, glancing up over his glasses. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Channon said, blushing all over because…well.

  Mr Nash put down his book, tucking a bit of paper in to keep his page. “Now I know Evelyn’s told you there’s no need to be formal with us. Robert is fine.”

  “I can’t do that,” Channon protested. “Sir, I—”

  “Or ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’, if that suits you better.” He offered Channon his hand. “You’ve earned it.”

  God, it meant so much. Channon took Mr Nash’s hand and shook it, firm like Jack had taught him, looking Mr Nash in the eye. “Thank you.”

  Mr Nash smiled, just a little. “Welcome to the family, Channon,” he said, and Channon felt it in his bones.

  ❧

  Channon had never been skiing before. Kim had gone with her family every year, and Channon had envied her, but he hadn’t really expected he’d ever go himself.

  Jack, however, had said skiing was one of those bucket list things, something to try before you died, and while Channon felt like it was a little early to start ticking things off the bucket list, he did want to go.

  They had a ski-in/ski-out cabin booked at a resort Channon had forgotten the name of. As they were driven up to it, he felt like his chest was expanding to match the great shining vista of snow poured over the mountain like icing. The beauty of it was overwhelming, making him feel dizzy with wonder. Or maybe that was the altitude.

  He hadn’t known what to expect of the resort. Last year they’d spent the Christmas-to-New-Year break in a cabin in British Columbia, and that had been luxurious enough. This place oozed luxury, from the heated outdoor terraces to the warm-polished woodgrain and leather upholstery. It looked like the kind of place James Bond might lounge around in while waiting for a villainess to seduce him. Channon glanced up at Jack and wondered if he was James Bond or the villainess in this particular scenario.

  Their cabin was a little distance apart from the main lodge. A porter led them to it, explaining the facilities as they went. Channon tried to pay attention, but he kept rubbernecking at the scenery, the calm white blanket of snow now interrupted by the other guests, ski trails everywhere. God, it was gorgeous out here. He tipped the porter in a daze and followed Jack in.

  Inside, their cabin was toasty warm and beautifully furnished in soft earth tones that made it feel cozy, even though Channon suspected it could easily have housed a family of six. As soon as the door closed, Jack sat down on the bench by the entrance with a sigh of relief.

  “Tired, Sir?” Channon asked.

  Jack gave him a weary smile, leaning back against the wall. “It’s been a long day.”

  It had. But such a good one. “Can I do anything for you?” Channon knelt at Jack’s feet and started unlacing his boots. He eased them off one by one and set them aside before dealing with his own. He’d clean them later, or hand them off to the valet service. For now, though, his fiancé needed him.

  “Aren’t you bushed, sweetheart?” Jack stroked Channon’s hair. It was such a tender gesture. Channon felt himself lighten, like he was floating an inch above the floor, his whole body gone to nothing under Jack’s hand.

  “I’m too happy to be tired,” Channon said, and it was true. He felt almost manic in his happiness, this bright spark inside him glowing like a furnace. “Let me look after you. Please?”

  “Okay, sweetheart.” Jack smiled, closing his eyes. “What do you want to do for me?”

  Channon ran him a bath. He stripped his fiancé naked and soaked him in almost-too-hot water full of creamy bath milk, washed him tenderly from head to toe, and then drew him out of the water to dry every inch of him before laying him on the bed. Jack sighed, half asleep, and Channon rubbed him down with massage oil, enjoying the slide of Jack’s skin under his hands.

  “Sweetheart,” Jack murmured. “You’d better stop before I conk right out.”

  “You can conk out,” Channon said, smoothing his hands up Jack’s thighs. “Can I suck you, please?”

  Jack grinned, his eyes closed. “I might doze off.”

  “I don’t mind,” Channon said, nuzzling Jack’s sleepy cock. “I just want to worship you.”

  “Go on then, sweetheart. Do whatever you want.”

  That was permission. Channon licked him. He licked over Jack’s cock from root to tip, lingering on his slit. Then he licked down to suck Jack’s balls as carefully as he knew how. I love you, he thought, willing Jack to feel it. I’ll love you forever. He licked behind Jack’s balls, driving at his taint until Jack groaned and his knees drew up, giving Channon space to get at him. Channon licked his hole too, teasing around the rim and dipping in just a little, just enough to hear the hitch of it in Jack’s breath, as Jack’s hands curled into the covers and his spine arched.

  “Swe-etheart,” he breathed, his breath broken on the word. “God, you’re such a tease when you want to be.”

  Channon didn’t want to be a tease. He wanted to give Jack pleasure. So he took Jack into his mouth and sucked him down, massaging him with his tongue and his lips, soft as he could. He held Jack in his throat and hummed, sucking harder now, swallowing him, and Jack groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, not asleep after all.

  “God, Channon. Do you want me to come in your mouth?”

  Oh, he must have been tired if he thought Channon had any say in it. “I want you to come in my ass,” Channon murmured, his lips brushing the wet head of Jack’s cock, and Jack chuckled.

  “I would, but I really don’t want to get up.”

  “You don’t have to move,” Channon promised, coming up on his knees. “Can I ride you? Can I come with you inside me?”

  Jack opened his eyes just a sliver, his mouth curving into something fond. “Baby, that would be perfect.”

  So Channon undressed and found the lube. He opened himself up with one hand, his weight braced on the other as he sucked Jack slow and deep, then he climbed up on Jack’s hips and pressed the head of Jack’s cock to his hole, letting his weight bring him down on it. He tried to do it smooth and slow, rolling into it as Jack filled him, the weight of Jack thick in him, pressing up until his body made room and then—oh! God, it was so good to be full of him. Channon rocked his hips, and there, there was the spot. He couldn’t ride it too hard too soon or he’d come, but he could tease himself as he fucked Jack’s cock, as Jack groaned and rose up into him.

  “Channon, baby…that’s good, God, you’re perfect. I love you so much, you feel so good.” His eyes came open, his hands closing on Channon’s thighs, mouth red and pleading. “More, Channon, please.”

  Jack saying ‘please’ was impossible, a crystalline thing that Channon didn’t know how to take, but he gave it, felt Jack buck beneath him, heard the crack of his voice and then—yes—the hot throb of him inside. Channon clenched down hard on it, tipping his hips back and riding it out with a hand on his cock, letting Jack hit him just right as he shot up past the point of no return. He came apart like that, his body overwhelmed, wonderful release shuddering through him. Creamy jets spilled over his fingers,
painting Jack’s shining torso and catching in the dark tangle of his body hair. Channon cried out, overcome by it, his eyes wet because he loved Jack, and Jack loved him, and Jack was reaching for him, drawing him down to kiss his mouth.

  “Beautiful, beautiful boy. How I love you.”

  Channon sniffed back the tears and pushed his face into Jack’s neck. “I know. It’s awesome.”

  He was going to marry this man. This man wanted him, for always. His Sir, all his.

  ❧

  Skiing turned out to be just as exhilarating as Channon had hoped. He didn’t mind waiting in the lift—the view was incredible. He had to take classes, but it was okay because he wasn’t the oldest person doing it, and he picked it up fast enough. Then he tried out some of the beginner slopes and it was amazing. He felt like a superhero, like he was flying, like he could do anything. Skiing, he decided, was worth it, even if he was pretty sure Jack had spent more money on this trip than he was comfortable knowing about.

  They had dinner in the lodge, and after that Jack insisted on relaxing in the hot tub overlooking the slopes. Channon was wary of the other guests, not sure what might happen, but no one seemed to care, or at least they didn’t say anything. Channon let Jack stroke his back and flirt with him, and found himself relaxing, his guard going down. He chatted to a couple of girls with carefully sculpted eyebrows and ended up taking a selfie with them for Instagram.

  “You have an Instagram?” Jack asked later, in their cabin.

  Channon shrugged. “Sort of? I don’t really use it for anything except photos of food. And dogs.”

  “You like dogs, huh. You want a dog, sweetheart?”

  “If we had a yard,” Channon scoffed, and he padded out to the kitchen in his socks to make them hot chocolate.

  They started day two on the beginner slopes. Channon grew confident enough to find them a bit dull, so Jack took him up to an intermediate run, and after that it was on.

  “Having fun, sweetheart?” Jack asked at the bottom of a slope, his handsome face obscured by goggles.

  Channon laughed, and tried to hug him without getting their skis tangled. “It’s awesome!”

  “Mmm, I figured you’d like it.”

  “Thanks for hanging out with me on the kiddie slopes,” Channon said, genuinely pleased.

  Jack chuckled. “Hanging out with you is better than hanging out with anyone else in the world,” he said, and even though it was a lot, Channon believed him.

  Day three, he tried to convince Jack it was okay if he wanted to leave Channon behind in favor of something more challenging. Jack shrugged it off. “It’s fine. I’m not willing to risk a fall right now. Pretty sure my fiancé would kill me if I ended up back in the hospital.”

  Which was Jack being diplomatic about Channon’s inexperience, he was pretty sure. Still. Every time Jack said ‘fiancé’, it made Channon tingle inside, like something was fizzing up his veins.

  “Anyway, I figured you might like something else.” Jack grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Come on.”

  The something else turned out to be snowboarding.

  Snowboarding was amazing.

  Channon loved it. He faceplanted a few times, but that, according to his instructor, was totally normal. “No worries,” he said, grinning a bright, sloppy grin. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

  The instructor’s name was Dean, and he was aggressively Australian. He helped Channon up again and gave him a few pointers on where to put his center of gravity.

  “It’s hard to explain,” he said, after explaining it pretty comprehensively, in Channon’s opinion. “Give it another go, and we’ll see how you do.”

  This time, Channon did a lot better.

  Dean whooped at him. “You beauty! That’s heaps better.” And his grin sharpened. “Wanna learn a trick?”

  He showed Channon how to ollie. It took a few tries, but when Channon pulled it off, Dean hollered encouragement, grinning like a maniac.

  “If you’re keen,” Dean said at the end of the hour, “I’ll take you out later, show you some really gnarly tricks.”

  It was tempting. “I’ll have to check if it’s okay. But, um, sure. What time?”

  “I finish in an hour. Meet me in the lounge and we can head up.” Dean offered him a fist, and Channon crashed his glove into it. “See ya.”

  Channon found Jack and asked permission, and Jack told him to knock himself out. But not before he’d kissed Channon right in front of everyone.

  “Be good. Don’t break anything.”

  Channon grinned and went into the lodge to grab a hot chocolate while he waited—he had permission to eat whatever he wanted between Christmas and New Year’s, and he was taking advantage of it.

  When Dean came in, Channon had to do a double-take. With his goggles off he was hot, gold shoulder-length hair tumbling around his stubbled jaw, his eyes glacier blue. He grinned when he saw Channon staring at him. “You right, mate?”

  “Uh…yeah. Um. I was just…chocolate.”

  “Sweet. I’ll grab a cuppa if you wanna hang for a sec.”

  Channon nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Shit. Had Dean seen him staring? If he had, he didn’t seem mad about it. Maybe he didn’t care. Or maybe…

  Maybe you’re getting married, and you don’t get to look at other guys anymore.

  It hit Channon in a rush. Was he not supposed to check people out now? Did Jack want that? Jack had always encouraged him, leaning up against him and whispering in his ear about some barista’s tight ass, or the fuckable mouth on a guy in the Club. Once he’d overcome his embarrassment, Channon had got into the habit of checking other guys out, if only so Jack could catch him looking and tease him with some crazy fantasy.

  But Jack wasn’t here, and Channon didn’t know if he was allowed to look anymore, and Dean was coming back, grinning like some kind of ski-catalog model.

  “So. Channon, right?”

  “Yeah. And you’re Dean.”

  “Dean or Deano, whatever you like. This your first time?”

  To his horror, Channon felt a slow blush cascade over his face. God, it had to be obvious. He knew what Dean meant. First time on the snow. But it sounded…not like that. “Uh, yeah. You?”

  Immediately, he could have kicked himself, but Dean just grinned that wholesome grin. “Yeah, you reckon? Nah, mate, I grew up in Wagga. Spent every winter up Thredbo.”

  “I didn’t know there was snow in Australia,” Channon said, feeling ignorant.

  Dean snorted. “Not a lot. More surf than snow. You been surfing?”

  “Yeah, a bit. I mean, just bodyboarding.”

  “Sweet. Probably why you picked up snowboarding so easy.”

  Channon made a face. “That was easy?”

  “Trust me, mate, that was easy.” Dean picked up his tea in both hands, warming his fingers on it. “You’re a natural.”

  The compliment embarrassed him, but he liked it and found himself smiling back at Dean. “You’re a good teacher,” he said shyly.

  Dean’s grin was warm and genuine. “Thanks.” And then his eyes flickered down, and Channon felt with an unmistakable certainty that Dean was checking him out. “Bet I could teach you a trick or two.”

  “Wasn’t that the plan?” Channon asked, realizing too late that he was probably flirting. Was it okay? Jack wouldn’t mind, right? Or would he, in fact, mind a lot?

  Now that he was looking, he could see the way Dean held himself, showing off the breadth of his shoulders, his legs falling open to display his thighs and his crotch, inviting Channon to look at him. His eyes lingered a little too long on Channon’s face, and Channon caught himself looking back a little longer than he should. Dean wasn’t straight. Maybe he told people he was, but he wasn’t. Channon was almost completely sure.

  What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t just blurt out, “I have a fiancé.” What if he was wrong, and Dean got all offended he’d ever thought anything at all?

  “So, wha
t made you come to America?” Channon asked, desperate for a distraction.

  It worked a little too well. Dean told him about his degree in sports psychology, and how he was taking a year off to see something of the world before settling into a full-time job. He asked if Channon was in college. Channon told him no; he was working in tech. Dean eyed him with amusement and said he looked too fit for a bloke spending all day in a cubicle. Channon laughed, shrugged, and asked about kangaroos.

  He kept missing opportunities to slip the words ‘my fiancé’ naturally into conversation. He could have said, “I work for my fiancé’s company,” or, “My fiancé and I have a home gym,” or, “My fiancé brought me here as, I’m pretty sure, an engagement present,” but he didn’t, and every missed opportunity felt like a tiny lie.

  But, in between those moments, he found he liked talking to Dean. He was dryly funny, easygoing. He clearly liked Channon as more than just a guest in the resort; in fact Channon forgot all about the fact that they were meant to go snowboarding. He was laughing at something Dean had said about ‘drop bears’ when Dean’s eyes went distant over Channon’s head. Dean sat up straight, and Channon half turned to look, but then there was a hand on his shoulder, and Jack said, “There you are. I thought you were going out for more snowboarding.”

  Channon felt suddenly guilty, though he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. “We got distracted. This is Dean, the instructor.”

  Jack held out his hand. “Jack. Nice to meet you, Dean.”

  “You too, sir,” Dean said. He’d gone stiff and formal, back into service professional mode.

  Channon looked up into Jack’s face. Jack seemed cheerfully content, unsuspicious of anything. Channon was almost entirely sure there was nothing, really, to be suspicious of, but he still felt weird about it. “Did you want me for something else?”

  “No, you’re good. I’m going to have a shower and a nap, and then I thought we could have dinner. You can invite your friend, if you like.”

  Channon didn’t know if that was a good idea or not. “What time?”