You're Welcome- Love, Your Cat

by Clancy Nacht

  Frustrated, Edwin sucked at Forrest’s plump lower lip and nipped it spitefully. He didn’t want to go this far; it still felt like a betrayal. But for what Edwin thought was a straight boy, Forrest seemed to know what he was doing.

  When Edwin opened his eyes to study Forrest, he didn’t see the pity or indifference he’d expected. The other man appeared to want this as badly as he did. Once Edwin saw Forrest’s handsome face so close to his, golden hair strewn over Edwin’s prim, white pillowcase, he knew he’d let Forrest have anything he wanted.

  Edwin undulated purposefully between those deft hands, gasping as he pushed back enough to feel the tip of Forrest’s finger edge inside him like a sudden spark. The sensation made Edwin’s cock twitch hard against Forrest’s, his desire so unmistakable that he’d be embarrassed had he any pride left.

  Holding Forrest’s gaze as he pushed farther onto the digit, Edwin rasped, “It’s okay. Take me.”

  Forrest didn’t stop to ask Edwin if he was sure, which was good because Edwin wasn’t. Rolling them over, Forrest slid his fingers deeper inside Edwin, stroking him so well Edwin’s eyes crossed. He opened his legs wider, panting as he rocked onto Forrest’s thick fingers.

  After another couple of minutes, Edwin started to worry that Forrest had lost his nerve, or worse, his erection.

  Then Forrest cleared his throat. “I, um, didn’t expect this. I didn’t bring a condom. I didn’t think…I mean, do you have one?”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Edwin sighed as he lay there staring at Forrest’s pained expression. “I’ll be right back.”

  Edwin shifted out from under Forrest, grabbing for the sheet before forcing himself instead to rise and pad nude across the hardwood floor to the closet. He wasn’t sure if he was killing the mood with his scrawny, naked ass. Glancing back as he opened the closet door, he saw Forrest watching his every move with hooded eyes, one hand lightly stroking his reassuringly erect cock.

  In a wooden chest on the closet shelf were Edwin’s toys, the modest collection of which had gotten him through this last lonely decade. He would never have admitted that he had them, but under the circumstances, owning up to possession of condoms and lube was a small price to pay for having Forrest warm and real inside him.

  Edwin retrieved the items and returned to where Forrest lounged on his bed, idly caressing that magnificent body. Biting his lip, Edwin held out a condom packet and the little bottle of lubricant, then stood at the edge of the bed, uncertain how to get back to that perfect spot sheltered beneath Forrest’s broad frame.

  Before Edwin could psych himself out, Forrest first nabbed the condom and then pulled Edwin on top of him. With dizzying speed, Forrest rolled them over and stared down at him. He had a brow raised, probably wondering why, given Edwin’s story, he had such supplies, but Forrest didn’t ask. Instead, he spread lubricant on his fingers and pushed them inside, slicking his entrance before opening the condom.

  The wrapper rattled as Forrest tossed it aside, the sound very real amid what felt like a particularly indulgent fantasy. Forrest reached between their bodies to roll the latex over his shaft, and a moment later Edwin felt the slick, blunt warmth of that massive cock teasing his opening.

  When Edwin tried to push onto it, Forrest pulled his hips back, an impish expression on his chiseled face. “How much d’you want it?”

  Edwin’s dignity stung, but he didn’t hesitate.

  “Please, Forrest. I need it.” The words came out hoarse and clipped, more demand than plea despite the wording.

  Edwin spread his thighs and hooked his calves around Forrest’s ass, locking their hips together. Forrest was too strong, immovable, but with Edwin’s arms clinging around his neck and Edwin’s legs anchoring their lower bodies, he managed to lever himself farther onto Forrest’s cock, letting out a long, ragged whimper as it entered him.

  Staring into Forrest’s eyes, Edwin tipped up his face to steal kisses, his whole body suspended from Forrest’s in his determination to be as close as possible. “I’m a little rusty, but I seem to recall your cock’s supposed to go in the hole. They change the rules while I was out of the game?”

  “I want it to last. And I wanted it to be good and memorable.” Forrest kissed Edwin, clutching him as he eased in deeper. Forrest groaned and stilled as if drinking in the moment. Then he opened his eyes and smiled so tenderly it almost broke Edwin’s heart. “Wanted to know that you wanted me.”

  “Could never forget this. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Edwin kissed Forrest hard enough that his lips hurt. He felt them swelling, rubbing raw as he devoured Forrest’s mouth, trying to communicate how much he wanted this kind, confusing man.

  He tightened his legs around Forrest’s ass as he fucked himself on that cock. Every inch he took wrung fresh sounds of bliss and agony from him, the fullness almost too much to bear. When Edwin broke the kiss to draw breath, he kept moving, inner muscles flexing and pushing, struggling to accept more of that unyielding flesh.

  Forrest groaned. His nails dug into Edwin’s back as he took him more aggressively. Edwin gasped at how deep he got, at how thick Forrest’s cock was, and how he knew just where to put it to make the pain of taking him blur into the pleasure of having his prostate massaged so intensely.

  Forrest pulled Edwin’s leg over his shoulder to change the angle, entering him even more deeply. Sweat dripped from Forrest’s face and down from his neck. He kept opening his eyes as if making sure it was Edwin pinned beneath him.

  “You’re so sexy. You got no idea, Edwin.”

  The words pierced Edwin’s heart. Even if it was pillow talk, it was perfect.

  Edwin sucked in a deep breath and slung his other leg over Forrest’s opposite shoulder, giving the other man full access to his body. He grunted with the effort, crying out in overwhelmed bliss as Forrest folded him in half and pounded him with a vigor Edwin had only fantasized about.

  “Oh God, Forrest,” Edwin whimpered, worried he might pass out. It seemed impossible to contain so much sensation in his finite form.

  He does this all the time with someone much younger and hotter.

  Edwin shoved away that thought and gripped his cock instead, jerking it in time with Forrest’s thrusts. Tonight was his. Forrest was his, if only while Edwin held him inside.

  Forrest kissed Edwin’s face sloppily, brief pecks between thrusts. The way Forrest kept looking down to watch Edwin jerking himself off made him feel as sexy as Forrest claimed he was. He felt complete, pulverized, and utterly breathless.

  Fighting orgasm, Forrest bit his lip as he started to shudder, the pinched expression on his perfect face everything Edwin hoped for. Of course Forrest would wait for Edwin to come first. He was that kind of man.

  With tiny, careful twists, Edwin angled his hips to force Forrest’s tip against his prostate, each contact sending tremors of pleasure to Edwin’s cock until it dripped precum over his fingers in a steady flow. He followed Forrest’s gaze, then gathered his drawn-up balls into his grip too as he pulled himself. He writhed until he could see Forrest’s long, latex-sheathed shaft disappearing into him as it carved him out inside.

  Overcome, Edwin let out a harsh growl as he seized, semen spurting from his cock to spatter over his chest and Forrest’s abs. Forrest wrung pulse after pulse from him, relentlessly slamming into him until Edwin’s thighs quaked and his toes twitched. Somehow, Forrest managed to get deeper into Edwin, thrusting with bruising force until he finally collapsed on top of him, panting and mumbling incoherently.

  They lay there, a sweaty mass, until both caught their breath. Then Forrest rolled to one side, pulled off the condom, and dropped it into the tissue-filled basket next to the bed. If he was uneasy about what had happened, he didn’t show it.

  Edwin lay very still, feeling stretched out and exhausted in a way he hadn’t been in years, if ever. As he watched, Forrest propped himself on one elbow and stroked Edwin’s chest, drawing patterns in the cum and sweat.

  With Forrest t
ouching him so tenderly, it wasn’t impossible to entertain the illusion they were lovers. It was a nice thought, however unrealistic. Maybe it was nicer because it was unrealistic. As long as this couldn’t be a romance, nothing would change.

  Edwin settled more comfortably into the mattress, his muscles burning and aching, still quivering with aftershocks. The pillow felt cool and soft under his cheek.

  “I’ve never been fucked that hard in my life.” Edwin laughed a little, as if that wasn’t as significant a truth as it was. “I’m going to pass out.”

  Forrest grinned and ducked his head like he wasn’t sure how to take a compliment. “You had a long day. And you said it’s been a while. Glad you had protection, though. I’m not usually, uh, that spontaneous.”

  He reached across Edwin for the tissues on the nightstand and dabbed the mess from his thin chest. Once he was done, he kissed Edwin’s forehead. “You pass out. I can take care of locking up.”

  “You won’t hate me for not seeing you home?” Edwin groaned at the thought of moving and nestled into the pillow. No one had fussed over him like that in ages. He felt the kiss to his forehead like a benediction. “I don’t think I can drive. I’ll be surprised if I make it to work tomorrow.”

  He stretched, trying to keep his lax muscles limber so he didn’t cramp up from the unaccustomed exertions. His sleepy gaze traced over Forrest’s face lovingly as he twined their fingers and gave Forrest’s hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you.” Forrest blushed. His expression softened for a moment, head tilted to the side like he was about to say something.

  Edwin’s pulse raced. The fear must have shown in his face, because Forrest frowned and then shook his head and snorted ruefully.

  “I think you’ll be all right. You seem pretty flexible to me.”

  Forrest squeezed Edwin’s hand again and slipped from the bed. The ambient glow from the windows shone a hazy blue on Forrest’s body, casting shadows on his scars. Without turning on the lamp, Forrest found his clothes and slipped them on.

  Edwin watched Forrest dress, regretting the loss of contact. He debated inviting the younger man to stay the night so he could drive him home the next day, but Edwin already felt guilty enough that he’d fucked someone. Letting that man sleep over would be too much. He was pushing his principles beyond their limits as it was.

  “Good night.” Edwin was so sated and tired that he slurred the words. He didn’t bother even to pull the blankets over him. That he was naked didn’t matter now. He closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into the bed. “Don’t forget to lock the back door and make sure Frannie’s safe inside.”

  The words seemed to echo through the years, the same thing he’d said to Howard every night. He barely remembered not to say I love you at the end.

  Chapter Seven

  Thursday morning, Edwin woke before his alarm only because he caught a chill when the air conditioner powered on around dawn. He ached to his bones. It felt as if Forrest had hollowed him out. The void left behind only reminded Edwin of how obscenely stretched he’d been.

  It hurt to move, every muscle stiff after the deep, dreamless sleep he’d enjoyed. There were no nightmares of Howard. He didn’t wake every two hours to check on Francesca.

  Testing his pain tolerance on his way to the bathroom, Edwin decided there was no way he could walk around campus all day. Making it to the kitchen seemed questionable.

  Smirking, he called the school and let them know he wouldn’t be in; his aide would have to cover for him. After, he gingerly showered, put on clean boxers, curled up with Francesca, and went back to sleep.

  Edwin woke again around noon. His muscles were still sore, but that delicious postcoital languor pervaded every movement. His insides clutched at nothing, sending a shudder of remembered pleasure through him. He sat on the couch with the papers he needed to grade—at least, he did once he remembered he’d left his spectacles atop the fridge—but it was difficult to focus on essays.

  Most of them tackled the politics and military strategies of Alexander the Great. Instead of appreciating the scholarship, he found himself imagining Forrest in Alexander’s linothorax armor. It wasn’t a stretch; the scars, golden-god appearance, and the way Forrest had vanquished him were a perfect fit for Edwin’s favorite conqueror.

  By late afternoon, he had an unprecedented stack of B+ work. He took an early break to eat a frozen meal and feed Francesca. Her contentment at getting an unexpected extra day with him warmed his heart, but as they ate, she padded to the front door, mewling softly.

  Edwin smiled. “Do you miss Nasty?”

  Francesca stared at him, pale green eyes intent on his face. She bounded toward him, then sat at his feet as if waiting for him to get up and take her to the garage. He was tempted, but he had a few papers left to finish, and it was only five.

  Gathering Francesca in his arms, he returned to the couch and the remaining essays. He plowed through two, giving them both dubiously earned passing grades on the strength of his continued elation, and then his heart plummeted at the sight of the next to last essay.

  Jenna.

  Edwin’s chest felt as if his ribs were constricting. He dropped the essay, rose to his feet, and went back into the bedroom. It was still light out, and he’d only been awake for a few hours, but his energy had drained like air from a punctured tire.

  Fighting back sudden regret, he retrieved Howard’s portrait from the dresser and carried it to bed. He placed it on the pillow beside him the way he’d done for the first few months after Howard died.

  “I shouldn’t have done it, should I?” Edwin’s fingertips hovered a fraction of an inch above the glass. Tears stung behind his eyelids, but he didn’t let them fall.

  Howard’s earnest face looked back at Edwin from the portrait, exactly as he’d always be in Edwin’s mind. He felt so guilty for finding Forrest sexier, for comparing him with Howard and not finding his lost love in every way superior. The pleasant ache from earlier felt like a gaping wound now, some horrible symbol of the harm he’d done by losing his resolve.

  A decade of devotion erased in one stupid night of passion, and for what? Some confused straight boy with daddy issues?

  Edwin shook his head. No matter what the future held, Forrest was so much more than that.

  “You’d like him, Howard. You really would. He’s so good with your girl.”

  A few tears made it past tightly closed lids and streaked down his cheeks.

  “I’m lonely, Howard. I’m always going to be. What happens when Fra—”

  Edwin couldn’t get the words out, but Howard couldn’t hear them anyway.

  What happens when Francesca dies, and I have no one?

  There would be the teaching. An endless parade of students that seemed younger every year as he got older and older. He’d never travel or go anywhere, not alone, and he’d sock away the money as he did now. Saving for retirement, he supposed, as he’d need assisted living when he could no longer keep up the bungalow on his own.

  Would it even be worth it without Francesca? He thought about the Welshman on faculty who fancied him, Paul Conrad, and his invitation to spend time together. Maybe he wasn’t a terrible option, considering the alternatives of pining for an unattainable younger man or dying alone. Growing old with only the ghost of one’s lost love for company seemed a less romantic idea at forty-two than it had at thirty-one. Even then, it had only been doable because Frannie forced him out of bed every morning.

  He looked again at Howard’s sweet, freckled face, his close-cropped ginger hair with the stiff, gelled spikes that had been in style at the time. Howard had never been able to keep a tan, but in the picture, he was a bit orange from the fake one he’d tried. He’d wanted so badly to be sexy, but no one else had ever found him as irresistible as Edwin did.

  It had gone both ways, though. Edwin had always commanded interest, but no one else had ever been as attentive as his Howard. It had lasted because no one else could
ever be as into them as they were into each other.

  After Edwin’s stilted, strange family life growing up, Howard’s cool head and dedication to hard work and logic had given him everything he’d craved as a child. The structure, domesticity, and sense of family that Edwin hadn’t known how to achieve on his own, Howard had provided. Howard’s love had healed many youthful hurts, and if they’d been more like best friends than lovers at times, it had only satisfied Edwin’s need for a real, lasting connection not predicated on transient emotions.

  Forrest couldn’t have given Edwin the stability he’d needed as a young man. Edwin knew that. No one could ever be for him what Howard was in those years. They might have shared nights with others now and then, partied or had threesomes, but in the end, it was always supposed to be Edwin and Howard forever.

  Now Edwin had grown into another person entirely. Life and lost love had shaped him. Different needs took precedence in his broken heart. All the adoration he’d felt for Howard then, he felt still. That love, that loyalty would never fade, but it was no longer enough to make life worth living.

  True love didn’t need a plan B in the movies. What was he supposed to do when together forever meant forever alone?

  Chapter Eight

  Edwin barely made it through the next week. Every morning, Francesca ran to the door, and when he kept her with him—taking her to classes instead of to the garage—her displeasure was palpable. Edwin was more comfortable avoiding the whole Forrest situation. There were too many complicated questions.

  With every day that passed, it got easier to stay away. Forrest had his contact information, and they didn’t owe each other anything.

  Despite that, Edwin couldn’t stop thinking about that night. His body felt electrified, like it had awakened from a long hibernation, and he craved sex in a way he hadn’t since before Howard died. It was more than being horny; it was a deep-seated compulsion for the intensity and intimacy of what he’d shared with Forrest. He wanted to know if Forrest had felt any of that, if it had mattered to him at all, but it would be pointless to ask.