by Amy Lane
And thought hard about what he wanted from the coming night.
He thought hard about his last relationship—his first big and real relationship, actually, after a lot of fooling around—and about how many ways he had managed to fuck that up. He thought about Chelle’s little brother, and his first look at Donnie as Donnie had helped Chelle move. He’d been so young, and he’d been awkward, and the looks he’d given Alejandro had bordered on annoying in their hero-worship.
But Alejandro had watched him grow up since then, had watched him play varsity sports (because Chelle had dragged him to every one of Donnie’s games she could manage) and had sat at the table with him during holidays.
And Donnie was bright, saturated color. He wore a straight man’s clothes—T-shirts a little big, jeans not too tight, tennis shoes or flip flops when he felt like it—but he wore deep blues, grass-greens, stop-light reds, and he wore them unselfconsciously, in the same way he seemed to wear his sexuality and his joy in just about anything.
Only Donnie could have gone and picked out a dog like Betty based solely on her good nature and ability to lick your face raw. Only Donnie could have found a cat like Barney, whose entire life was devoted to sitting on your chest and purring.
And only Donnie could have been found sprawled naked on Alejandro’s bed, wearing his grandmother’s socks, smelling of clean soap, come, and hope.
If Alejandro was going to kick that kid out of his bed, it should have been done the night before, when this whole thing could have been laughed off as an awkward incident. But he hadn’t. Alejandro had climbed in bed next to him and held him through the night, had felt his skin and heard his cries and brought him to climax twice, all because he couldn’t stand to close his eyes against the color of his skin. And Donnie was going to walk through his door again tonight, happy and excited and wanting, and Alejandro wasn’t going to turn him down.
And he wasn’t going to kick him out of bed in the morning.
And, if God had to drag the truth out of him with a hot poker and tongs, he was going to explain to that stunning, hopeful boy why he couldn’t promise much beyond that, but he’d try.
Donnie
GOD, he was tired. There were some days on the restaurant floor that went fast and fun and all you had to do was smile a little or flirt and do your frickin’ job, and the tips came rolling in.
This was not one of those days.
This was the sort of day in a restaurant job when you ran your ass off and someone always wanted something and the kitchen was running behind and table twenty-eight, the one back in the frickin’ corner of the store, had to wait twenty minutes while you got their goddamned ranch dressing because someone had used the last of the ranch in the container and it had to be refilled from the walk-in while two guys were on the other side of the vegetable rack boning each other and you pretended not to hear.
Donnie had nightmares about this sort of night waiting tables.
It wasn’t until he got in the car and almost made the turn home, instead of continuing on down Fair Oaks toward Alejandro’s place, that it occurred to him.
Alejandro was home, waiting for him, and Chelle wasn’t there, and she wasn’t there for a reason.
His entire morning came flooding back in a rush, and suddenly shifting his little Toyota was a giant pain in the groin because his dick was harder than Calculus in Italian. (Some people said Chinese arithmetic, but really, how hard could basic math be in any language? Word problems, on the other hand… that made Donnie shudder.)
He pulled up in front of Alejandro’s house, remembering to go up the driveway and not park on the side of the street, like he did at his folks’ house. He wasn’t sure exactly why that made a difference, but something about where he parked made Alejandro look either high class or low class—Chelle had certainly nagged him enough about it.
So he parked the car and swung out, walking up to the door with a slightly slower, slightly achier stride than his usual bounce.
Alejandro opened the door before he could even decide if he should knock or just walk right in. He was freshly showered, wearing loose linen pants and an open white shirt, and he smiled with a little bit of arrogance and a little bit of sympathy, and Donnie couldn’t help it.
He reached back, cupped the man’s head, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Alejandro went so quickly, so smoothly and easily, and Donnie’s tiredness melted away as he took two steps in the door and slammed it behind him, pressing Alejandro up against the wall and tilting his hips so they were mashed together, swollen, swelling, sensitive, and starving. Alejandro’s hips bucked beneath his, hard, and again, and Alejandro’s hands were suddenly up around the back of his neck and he was holding Donnie steady and trying to control the kiss.
Donnie was not big on control. He pushed back again and kissed some more, pulling Yandro into the circle of his chest, the heat of his mouth, until Yandro moaned, went limp, boneless, and sweet in his arms, clinging to his shoulders and returning his kisses in a begging, needing way that made the fire under Donnie’s skin hotter. When Alejandro’s hands came up around his neck and Donnie was holding him up completely, he pulled himself out a little. It hadn’t occurred to him that Yandro was depending on him for tonight as much as he was depending on Yandro.
“Gotta shower,” he mumbled. “Balls smell like Steak’n’Sauce.”
Alejandro laughed weakly against his shoulder, and for the first time ever, Donnie realized he’d actually passed his crush up in height. He was now around six feet three inches, and Alejandro was probably not even six.
“When’d I get taller than you,” he mumbled, backing away, and Yandro shook his head, looking bemused.
“Last year,” he said matter-of-factly. “Right after we got Betty and Barney and you came out of the closet.”
Donnie’s grin had some strut in it, he knew it. “You noticed that?”
Alejandro had the darkest eyes—hardly brown, they were nearly black, and soulful—and the arch surrounding them by Yandro’s straight, small nose drooped a little, making him look sensitive and kind. Right now, they looked incredibly wistful.
“I knew,” he said softly, his head turned away. “I knew when you came out, Donnie. I knew how tall you were. I saw you when you were sixteen and looking at me like a god—was I not supposed to notice when that changed?”
Donnie grinned and kissed him, this time softly, and then pulled back. “You noticed,” he said, preening and throwing some drama into it.
Alejandro laughed and shoved at him playfully. “I’ll never hear the end of it! Go shower! I have many fantasies about tonight and none of them involve Steak’n’Sauce!”
Donnie went trotting down the hall and then he heard Alejandro clear his throat. “Uhm, Donnie?” He was looking a little uncomfortable, and Donnie waited patiently for him to spit it out.
“Donnie, there’s… well, there’s a kit on the counter that’ll make tonight… well… pleasant. It will make it more pleasant, and… well. Okay.”
“Is this part of the bossing around part you were talking about?” Donnie asked uncertainly, and Alejandro managed a moment of arrogance.
“I did promise,” he said and Donnie shook his head.
“I’m not buying it. You don’t want to boss me around any more than you wanted to be in charge of that last kiss.”
Alejandro blushed and looked away. “Just use it, okay? My God, you’re a brat!”
Donnie’s cockiness went up a notch. “That turns your key, doesn’t it.”
“Oh hell, Donnie, just do it, okay?” Alejandro strode into the kitchen and Donnie rolled his eyes. Okay, fine, he knew what the guy was talking about—make a big production out of it, why didn’t he?
But still, it was… well, preparation. It would be one thing if he and Alejandro sat down, had dinner, and things just didn’t go that way, and then that kiss in the hallway, the sweetness of the morning, that would all disappear, right? But this other thing… it was premeditation, prepa
ration. That meant that if something went wrong, if he and Alejandro decided not to do what he was pretty sure they were going to do and really hoping they were going to do, then he had something to be disappointed over, and he hated being disappointed.
But that didn’t stop him from using the kit before he showered, making sure his private and inside bits were well and truly clean and sparkly when he was done. He figured that disappointment was probably better than lack of preparation at this point anyway.
It was just that… well, in his mind, he saw those pictures from Alejandro’s books. Not the raw, pure dirty sex ones, because he could get that on YouPorn.com (and he did—a lot!), but the sweet ones, the ones that used light and shadow, the tilt of a man’s lips or the angle of his hand to draw a mood or a caress or even an orgasm. That morning had felt like one of those books, with Alejandro’s voice in his ear and his hand on Donnie’s body. Donnie wanted that again, even if, rationally, he knew he couldn’t always get it.
He didn’t want the big, over-lighted bamp-chicka-bow-wow, or Chase’s just-grab-me-so-I-can-come. He didn’t just want pretty or hot. He wanted beautiful.
So he’d follow Alejandro’s suggestion, maybe, so this time—maybe lots of times with them—could be beautiful.
He came out of the shower and went into his guest bedroom, toweling his hair and holding his other towel at his hips, and realized that the duffel of his stuff wasn’t in there anymore. Frowning, he went back through the bathroom (which was the actual size of his own bedroom back at his folks’ place) and into Alejandro’s room, and saw his duffel was sitting in the back corner, on the dresser by the head of the white bed.
Huh.
He smiled slowly, liking the idea, liking that, for this time at least, he wasn’t just staying at Yandro’s, he was staying with Yandro, and threw himself on the bed, allowing the towel to slide off his ass, so he could root through his duffel for some shorts and a T-shirt to put on. He was there, legs spread, lower body open and bare and vulnerable, when Alejandro walked in.
He looked over his shoulder, a handful of clothes in one hand, and grinned apologetically. It probably would have made more sense to actually walk around the bed, but then, flopping on the bed was fun because it was so damned plush and bouncy.
“Sorry, Yandro. I’ll be dressed in a minute, o….” Oh God. “’Kay?” His voice cracked, because Alejandro had leaned over the bed and placed a soft, wet, with tongue, kiss on the inside of his thigh, just above the bend of his knee.
“Don’t bother,” Alejandro whispered, teasing the back crease of Donnie’s knee. Donnie barked a half-laugh and it turned into a groan.
“God, Yandro, what are you do… oh God. Oh God….”
Because Alejandro just kept kissing. He stuck to the back of Donnie’s thighs and nibbled, or sometimes dove into the deeper, more sensitive reaches of the inner thigh and suckled the flesh into his mouth. Donnie moaned into the pillow again and moved to adjust his hips, because his hard-on was killing him, but even as he did so, he felt Alejandro’s hand under his stomach, pulling him up, sticking his ass in the air with his knees underneath him.
He buried his face in the comforter and hung on for the ride.
Alejandro had ducked his head and started licking his balls, and the sound that came out of Donnie’s throat when he did that was probably not even human. Then Yandro grasped Donnie’s cock and stroked, pointing the weapon down and placing a little kiss on the inside of Donnie’s butt-cheek when he did it.
“Donnie?”
“Unghhh?”
“Are you aware that your penis is extraordinarily large?”
“Unngghhh….” Okay, it was almost as big as Chase’s, if not quite as thick. Yes, he kept a ruler by his bed, didn’t everybody?
Yandro chuckled softly and licked a long line, from just where… oh God… just below where he was probably going to be exploring shortly, down… down that space between to Donnie’s balls, where he cupped one and then the other in his mouth, and then down, down, down, delicately down, to the bottom of his shaft, and then there was some shifting. Donnie spread his knees a little, and when he looked down his body, he saw Yandro, on his back and peering up at him.
“Would you like to fuck my mouth again?” he said coyly, and Donnie nodded.
“Ohmygodplease?” he gasped, needing some relief.
Yandro grasped his cock with a firm handshake and guided it down to a waiting mouth. Oh God. Hot, wet, wonderful, and so, so welcome. Donnie thrust forward slowly and pulled back the same way, and then Yandro slurped up, his head coming off the bed as he made an effort to pull Donnie’s erection into his mouth. Donnie didn’t last long doing that, finally gasping, “Do… you… want… me… to… come… now?”
For an answer, Yandro opened his mouth and then slid out from between Donnie’s legs, leaving Donnie still open and splayed, erect and waiting, every blood vessel in his lower body throbbing with absolute, sex-powered need.
Yandro fumbled briefly at the drawer, and Donnie looked behind him to see Yandro stripping his nice linen pants off and putting the condom on with practically lightning speed.
“But I’m a virgin,” Donnie said, looking at the condom, and Alejandro looked at it too.
“I….” He blushed unaccountably. “My last two checkups were negative,” he said, almost to himself. He smiled and touched Donnie’s backside tentatively before dripping lubricant over the end of his now-bare… wow. Yandro was hung pretty nicely himself.
“And I wanted to suck that!” Donnie complained, mesmerized by the sight of another man’s equipment. God, after all those painful, embarrassing hand jobs he’d given Chase, Donnie was really looking forward to touching, fondling, teasing another man’s skin until he moaned and begged for… well, anything. Donnie was definitely bottoming this time out, but he planned to top some time.
“God yes!” Alejandro said fervently. “But not now…. God, Donnie… I want to take you. I want to finger you and enter you and fuck you, so bad. Can I do that? It will be your first time, and it won’t be slow, but I’ll make it good, I swear. But can we make it now?”
Donnie sat up on his knees and turned, then kissed the man, his first lover, calming the tremble in Alejandro’s hands by putting his own on top of them.
“Yeah, Yandro,” he said softly, cupping a dark-skinned cheek. “Yeah. Sure. God, you don’t ever have to ask me twice about sex, okay?”
Yandro nodded and smiled shakily. “I’ve been thinking of you,” he confessed throatily. “All day. And you’re a virgin and I wanted to make it right, but….”
Donnie kissed him again, feeling the heartbeat in Yandro’s throat throbbing against his palm. “It’s right,” he whispered, thinking that the expression on Yandro’s face was like those pictures, full of yearning and need. He bent over again and closed his eyes when Alejandro’s fingers, coated in lube, traced his crease, and then his rim, and then, gently, breached his entrance. The touch burned exquisitely.
“Ooooooh….”
“Good?” asked Yandro, thrusting a little deeper.
“Yeah,” Donnie panted, pushing back and wriggling. “Yeah… more… bigger… ah God!” Because Yandro added another finger and it hurt, but it felt good too. Donnie breathed and held still for a moment, trembling, willing himself to relax. Yandro reached a little deeper… just a little, and rubbed, hard, and Donnie saw stars with the sudden need to come.
Yandro’s other hand was suddenly on his back, rubbing, and Yandro was whispering “Shh… shhh…” because Donnie had apparently yelled a little, and now he tried to beg.
“Oh God… that was… oh God… can I… can I grab myself… oh please… do it…. Yes!”
Yandro did it again, and Donnie grabbed his cock and squeezed the end so he wouldn’t come… not yet… not. Fucking. Yet!
And then he was. Fucking. Yandro pulled his fingers out, placed his cock at Donnie’s entrance, and started to push in, slowly.
A big neon sign lit up in Donnie’s head. T
his is it! You’re fucking! You’re being fucked and it feels… and then the sign shorted out and so did words, and it all became a wonderful, delicious push/pull against what Yandro was doing and the things it made Donnie need and the way Donnie felt and the things trying to come out of his mouth.
“Oh God… Yandro… please… please… yes. Yes. Yes! Just. Like. That! Oh God. Keep going… stop, wait, keep going… more… geeeeaaawwdddd yes! More! Harder! Deeper! Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh God, Alejandro, keep fucking me pllleeeeeaaazzzze!”
And Alejandro did, his cock filling Donnie completely, solidly, lunging into Donnie’s body, stretching, hitting that one firework spot deep inside, and Donnie was not shy about grabbing his own cock, all slick with pre-come, and stroking, stroking, squeezing, grabbing, as Yandro kept fucking…. Oh God he’s fucking me! He’s fucking me and it feels… feels….
“Oh God yes!” He’d always liked his come, how hot it was, how it was sticky or sloppy and slick, and now it scalded his skin, coating his hand, his stomach, his chest, and still Alejandro kept pounding and hitting that spot, and it was tender, growing so tender Donnie almost couldn’t….
“Oh God!” Yandro hollered, and Donnie felt it—actually felt him come, deep inside Donnie’s body, and it made him shudder, spurting just one more time as he collapsed on Alejandro’s white comforter.
“Oh shit,” he mumbled, still rocking with gentle spasms.
“What,” Alejandro mumbled back, kissing between his shoulder blades carefully and smoothing the skin of his shoulders with gentle little pats.
“I came on your blankets,” he said, grateful his face was buried in a pillow, and Alejandro laughed softly, still buried in his backside.
“Good,” Alejandro said, nuzzling the base of his neck with such tenderness Donnie’s chest suddenly ached. “Good. Maybe it will make the bed beautiful, fill it with sunshine, like you.”