Chapter Seventeen
Dean:
I fumble with the lock as Ryan kisses the back of my neck. My knees feel wobbly with desire and my hands are clumsy with the lock. I involuntarily lean back into his embrace, helpless to resist. I can feel his erection pressing into me and it makes me ache all the more. Damn this lock! The door finally opens and we spill through, slamming it behind us. I take his hand and start to lead him onward, but he pulls me to him and we embrace. We’ve only made it as far as the hallway when he backs me up against the wall, pinning me there with his hungry mouth locked on mine. His tongue is down my throat, one hand in my hair. I feel trapped and exhilarated; I’m right where I want to be, kissing him back with equal passion. He finds my hands with his and holds me captive with my arms outstretched. He grinds the evidence of his desire for me into my belly while possessing me with his mouth. Dizzy with need, I submit completely, opening to his onslaught.
I can’t wait a minute longer. I pull free and grab his arm, leading him upstairs to my bedroom. Finally! Standing beside the bed, I turn to meet him as he reaches for me. He slides his hands under my shirt, around my waist, voraciously exploring my body while I do the same with his.
With my left arm, I grip him around the shoulders and bury my face in his neck; my right hand wanders down his length and cups him through his jeans. He’s rock hard. I squeeze gently and rub up and down, giddy with his scent and heat.
With my help, he shrugs out of his shirt and my hands and mouth are all over him, leaving a damp trail as I work my way down his muscular torso. I unbutton his pants, push him back onto the bed, and kneel between his thighs. Finally gaining access to him, I hold him reverently in my hands and bend forward. I worship him with my mouth, suckling him until he groans before taking his length down my throat. His fingers are in my hair, urging me on. He tries to restrain himself but can’t help bucking against me. I’m working his shaft with my hand and opening my throat to take him in. Completely wrapped up in his pleasure, we both thrash and groan, locked in a primal embrace until he thrusts, bruising me, and releases his salty fluid down my throat. I kiss his hip and groin before pulling myself up, blissfully marked by the pain and pleasure of our lovemaking.
I lay down beside him and he rolls over to face me. Claiming my bruised mouth with his, he kisses me deeply. Undressing me completely before removing his jeans, he reclaims possession of my body with a confident grip. My hot, hard shaft is against his bare thigh. He continues to kiss me while working my shaft. Feeling those big, strong hands finally wrapped around me where they belong, I melt into his ministrations.
By the time he rolls me over, I’m ready: simultaneously hard and supple. He presses into me slowly, just the tip at first. Patiently, he works his way inside of me, finally rocking me on my hands and knees, his whole body enveloping mine as his hand enveloped mine at the bar not so long ago. I submit completely to his rhythm and our mutual release, when it comes, leaves us breathless.
Exhausted and completely satisfied, we fall asleep. In the morning, I blink my eyes open, afraid that it was all a dream, but Ryan is curled up beside me, still asleep. We’re lying somewhat askew on the bed and our clothes are flung all over the room. I’m suffused with happiness, watching him sleep beside me. He seems so vulnerable and unguarded. The worry lines have melted away in sleep and his hair is mussed and sleep tossed; the combined effect makes him look younger. His eyes flutter open and, seeing me, he smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners, and reaches out his arms. I go to him and we embrace, just breathing each other in. He smells like mown grass and citrus. How does he smell so good after a night like that?
I can’t get enough of touching him. Nibbling his jawline, kissing his neck, and sucking on his earlobe, I can feel his arousal against my stomach. Lying on top of him now, I continue to kiss him. Holding myself up with one arm, I reach the other down to fondle him. Moving on top of him, sliding my hand up and down his length, the friction of our bodies almost makes me lose control before him.
Sticky and sated, we spend the morning in bed, emerging from our cocoon only for necessities before slipping back under the sheets together. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this content before. Tracing his jawline with my index finger, I lean over to kiss the soft skin of his throat but pull back, startled, when Ryan’s phone rings; it’s William.
I’m a little hurt when Ryan answers, interrupting our idyllic morning together. I pull the blanket around me and listen intently. I infer from Ryan’s side of the conversation that Will wants Ryan to take him somewhere. Ryan hangs up, looking conflicted. Expecting him to refuse Will’s request, which is obviously ridiculous, I’m shocked when Ryan says he needs to go drop Will off downtown. I start to feebly object, pointing out that Will doesn’t always have to get his way and, if it’s important, he could always use public transportation, but Ryan can’t resist the siren call of brotherly responsibility. He has made his decision and I already feel the cool air rushing in where his body was close beside me before.
The morning seems a little less bright as I watch Ryan pull his clothes on. He leans over to kiss me before leaving but I turn my face away; he settles for a peck on the cheek. If he chooses to indulge his brother even now, when that decision literally pulls him out of my arms, then I think he’ll always choose William over me. Ryan tries to cajole me into acceptance but I’m genuinely hurt by his actions and, despite his efforts, I remain quietly disappointed. He gives me one last look, pleading for understanding, and then turns around and walks out.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryan:
The roads between Dean’s apartment and mine are familiar now, creating a sense of continuity and stability about our relationship but, driving home to pick up Will, my thoughts keep returning to the look on Dean’s face when I told him I was leaving: hurt, disappointment. After the incredible night we shared, how could we have parted on these terms? Even now, thinking of his warm embrace makes me tremble. This morning, it felt like the dawn glow of happiness couldn’t be extinguished. While, in reality, it only took one phone call from Will. Am I making a mistake? He can’t expect me to turn my back on my own brother, right? Still, Will’s interruption did feel incredibly inopportune, even inappropriate. But what can I do? He needs me!
When I pull into the driveway, I leave the motor running, expecting William to come out to the car. He doesn’t. It irks me to have to get out of the car and physically retrieve him when he’s the one who dragged me home to chauffeur him to town. I open the front door and holler for him. As soon as I see him coming, I turn and stride back to the car. He gets in and immediately starts jabbering about the video game he had just been playing. He actually seems annoyed at me for interrupting him. Like, if I had just waited a few minutes in the car, like a good brother, he might have had enough time to win the game.
My silence in response would have alerted a less egotistical person that something was wrong, but Will barely looks at me as he’s talking. He certainly doesn’t thank me for dropping my own stuff to come get him. It never occurs to him that I have my own life and driving his highness to his next appointment is not what I want to be doing right now. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember Will ever asking me about my own life. I’m starting to understand Dean’s point about Will’s stunted emotional development. This kid has got to learn that he’s not the center of the universe. Other people have lives, have needs!
Will is so focused on describing his video game that he doesn’t notice when I deviate from our route. I pull up in front of the train station and Will pauses in his monologue to look at me blankly. As soon as the car has stopped moving, I practically shove him out, locking the doors behind him. Cracking the window, I tell him calmly that it’s time for him to take care of himself now. I have no intention of babying him anymore. I know that he has a house key and I’ve given him a public transportation pass before. I’m fairly certain that it’s still in his wallet. He’ll just have to figure the rest out.
I
can see Will’s incredulous face in the rearview mirror as I steer the vehicle back on to the familiar roads that lead to Dean’s apartment. I feel transcendent and unburdened for the first time in years.
Chapter Nineteen
Dean:
I don’t want to have to fight for Ryan’s attention. I’m not going to put myself in a position to be hurt day after day. I know what I want out of life and what I don’t want and, as much as I want Ryan, I know that I don’t want his well-meaning neglect. Though it breaks my heart to reach this conclusion, I decide that, if he’s going to drop everything the moment that Will needs something from him, then it needs to be over between us.
This is my logical conclusion. My heart and body don’t see it that way, of course. For hours, I’m besieged by flashbacks from last night that turn my knees to jelly: Ryan’s hands on my hips, his breath in my ear, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I remember his sweet smile upon waking this morning and how he opened his arms to me without hesitation or reservation. And I remember going to him, my heart full, also without hesitation.
It’s a struggle but, sometime after Ryan leaves, I manage to pull myself together, gather the sheets and my clothes from last night and throw them in the wash. The wash feels decisive and metaphorical, as well as practical. I put up coffee, eat a light lunch, realize I’m starving and return to the kitchen to make a second, bigger lunch. I realize that I need to do something proactive so that I don’t just wallow in feelings of abandonment and spend the day stewing over Ryan’s absence. It feels like everything is different now, things are possible that were not possible before. The thought of returning to the job that I despise on Monday does not fit with this new order of thinking. I remember Ryan’s earlier suggestion to consider working at a nonprofit now rather than waiting until I retire to begin living my passions.
Though I’m still upset over Ryan, I take his advice. I make a list of causes that I’m particularly passionate about and research non-profits that align with these interests. Within an hour, I find that there are multiple local, inspiring organizations out there, and dedicated people serving them. I know it’s cheesy, but I want to be part of their team. Looking at their websites, I fantasize about working with like-minded people, going on staff picnics, and rallying together behind meaningful causes. I’ll make friends and feel good about the work I do every day, instead of dragging my feet when it’s time to go to work.
Feeling elated, I get caught up in my research, but finally choose one. I call to inquire about possibly joining their company. We talk for a few minutes; I explain my accounting background and other skills that I could bring to the table. The woman on the phone sounds intrigued and asks me to send along a resume and to mention in my cover letter that I spoke with “Sharon” on Sunday. I’m just hanging up the phone when I hear the front door open. Hardly daring to hope, I hurry downstairs to find Ryan, breathless with excitement. Though I promised myself that I’d break things off with Ryan, I can’t help feeling happy when I see his kind, handsome face pop into view at the bottom of the stairs.
He looks like he’s bursting to say something and the moment he sees me he locks eyes with me and says, “I’ve just dropped Will off at the train station. I am so sorry about earlier. I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me choosing Will over you because I love you. You’re my number one priority from here on out.”
I’ve closed the space between us before he’s even finished speaking. Taking him into my arms, I realize how much my feelings for him have grown over the past few weeks. I bury my face in his collar. He smells like home. Somehow getting the words out around the lump in my throat, I manage to say, “I love you too.” He takes my face in his warm, strong hands and kisses me and I know he isn’t going anywhere.
The Teacher’s Desk
A First Time Gay Romance
Cameron groaned against him, pressed his hips between his legs. Aiden could feel the hardness of an erection press against the growing one between his own legs, and a shudder of pleasure went through him as Cameron grabbed a handful of his rear, jerking him closer.
“Can you be quiet?” Cameron murmured, fingers sliding into the waistband of Adrien’s pants. All Adrien did was nod, rocking his hips against Cameron’s insistently. Cameron seemed to take the hint, going back to kissing him without interruption as his hands came to his front, cupping him. Adrien’s toes curled, and at the contact he groaned – perhaps a little too loudly.
* * *
Adrien
“Hey, you got a minute?”
Adrien looked up from his book, glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. With a blush, he slid them to the bridge of it hastily, and peered through the thick frames at the guy who’d just interrupted his reading. He was momentarily taken aback, before he managed to find his voice.
“Uh, yeah sure. What’s up, Cameron?” He tried to pretend that he didn’t sound hopeful.
Cameron smirked down at him, and slid in beside him at his place at the teacher’s table.
“I know we’re supposed to be keeping this a bit hush-hush, but I was wondering if you wanted to help me with a little something for kids for Christmas. I wanted to go all out for them this year – you know, tree, a Santa get-up. What do you say?”
Adrien took a moment to get himself together, pushing his glasses up again as they threatened to slide down his face. Christmas. Right. That’s definitely what Cameron would have wanted his help with.
“Oh yes. Well. Sure. Usually Ms. Fallon handles all of that as a surprise. What changed this year?”
Cameron gave a shrug, as if it didn’t matter. “Not sure, but it’s been one hell of a year, and with the budget cuts they’re doing to everything, I want the kids leaving this year with a bit more hope than those of us who are in the know are getting, you know? So. You still in?”
Adrien thought about it for a moment. Ms. Fallon usually handled the end of the year and Christmas things for the kids at the before and after school care center he and Cameron worked for. She was a very… adamant woman. She ran almost all the art programs that the center offered, and therefore tended to pioneer everything that required even the tiniest bit of artsy inclinations. It would upset her to have Cameron stepping up this year – likely without her permission, given the coaxing grin on Cameron’s face. Oh… he shouldn’t…
But was he going to pass up a chance to get some extra work in with Cameron? Of course not.
He gave Cameron a small, warm smiled.
“Sure, I’m in. But if Fierce Fallon comes after me, I’m throwing you under the bus, you got it?” Cameron held his hand to his chest, as if wounded.
“Ah, such promises of betrayal. But that’s great. You have a great imagination; it’ll really help.”
Cameron got up, clasping his shoulder as he did. One last good-natured smile, and Cameron was off. Adrien checked the clock – ah, lunch was almost over for the all-day kids. Cameron handled the youngsters after, getting them ready for naps…
He, however, didn’t have anything that he had to do until the older kids got out of school and their busses dropped them off there. Finishing up the chapter in his book, he decided to head back to his ‘classroom.’ He didn’t actually teach, but he did tutor the students that decided to do their homework there after school, rather than wait until they got home. It was a cozy place, with desks as well as bean bags, posters and charts on the walls, and bookcases lined with texts and reference materials. His own desk sat near the wall-length window that let in the sunshine from outside – sun that warmed the room even as the snow chilled the outside.
As he sat at his desk, he couldn’t help but wish that he had spoken up with Cameron and ask him what he had been toying around with asking him for a month now. He had hoped that Cameron approached him meant that he was going to do it himself but… ah. Not how things had panned out.
He and Cameron had been working together for little over a year. Cameron was a newer hire, and Adrien had been the one to
go through his orientation process with him. In the course of that time, they had grown to be friends, and Adrien learned a few things about Cameron. Namely, he was extremely good with kids and the job suited him. He also liked him terribly so.
The unfortunate thing for him, was that he was also terribly shy. His coworkers knew that he was gay, that wasn’t the issue. He had a hard time gaining the courage to go on dates, however; his anxiety was a large factor in that. He often found that it was easier to maintain friendships rather than push the idea of being together. That’s where his dilemma with Cameron came in. They were friends, close for having known each other only a year. They hung out outside of work, usually with a group of the other younger staff members. They had each other on social media. They talked.
There were times there Adrien thought Cameron felt the same way – that maybe he wanted to broach into a casual date… But often times, like today, his hopes were dashed. It wasn’t Cameron’s fault – if he just bucked up and went for it, it’d be fine… But no… that anxiety… he couldn’t possibly…
He was pulled from his thoughts when his classroom door opened. He looked up, noticed the time, and as various kids started pooling in and taking their seats at their chosen bean bags and desks, he pushed his woeful thoughts from his mind.
Steamy Dorm Page 168