Best Love

by Morton, Lily

  He laughs and then moans as I push my trousers down followed by my briefs. “Shit,” he whispers, and I start as he’s suddenly behind me helping me strip them off. I lean back into him and moan deep in my throat as I feel his sleek skin and hair-roughened chest.

  “Your arse is amazing,” he mumbles, and I inhale sharply as he grabs my cheeks, pulling them apart to see the dark hole. “So pretty,” he mumbles, and I groan as he lowers himself to his knees and I feel his hot breath ghosting over the hole. I usually feel vulnerable at this point but I realise that with Sage I don’t.

  Then my thoughts leave me for the first time ever in sex, as his tongue slips sensually along my taint. He snuggles it into the tender spot behind my balls and sucks gently, raising a loud cry from me. He chuckles and the sound bangs into my balls, making me bend forward and arch my arse up, offering myself mutely.

  He takes the invitation without another word, and I brace my arms against the wall, resting my head on them and panting heavily. All I can feel is that mobile tongue offering tiny, catlike licks around my hole, tasting and sampling before graduating to long, slow licks up and down my taint. He rubs his nose between my cheeks as if coating himself in my scent.

  His next words confirm that impression. “You smell so good,” he says gutturally, and I have to grasp the base of my cock hard. That voice belongs to my best friend in the world, the one I love above all others and I can’t believe we’re here. He senses my emotions as always and I feel cool air against my passage as he stands up. I hum as he embraces me from behind.

  I can feel everything - his chest against my back, the sharp edges of his hipbones hitting my backside, and the way my arse is snuggled in against the hard thrust of his cock, the damp wetness of the tip painting invisible pictures on me. I imagine him seeing those lines and tattooing them on me, and the thought is strangely erotic.

  “Come on,” he whispers. “I need you.”

  “Not here?” I ask, turning to look at him and he shakes his head.

  “No. Not here. Another time certainly, but the first time with you I want you to know it means something. I want to look at your face and see everything. I want to lie in your bed and smell your scent and I want to feel your come all over me.”

  I shudder deeply and reach down to grab his hand. His fingers snuggle in around mine and I draw him towards my bedroom. I walk backwards keeping my gaze on him, and he returns it with a look of elation in his eyes.

  The bedroom is in cool darkness, lit only by dappled shadows from the streetlight that filters through the closed curtains. He reaches down and switches on the lamp. “Get into bed,” he says deeply. “But don’t pull the covers over you. I want to see you.” He swallows. “I want to touch.”

  I obediently lie back and stretch out and take the opportunity to look at him while he’s staring at me avidly. The shadows play over the colours of the tattoos on his arms and torso. He’s slender but toned, with wide shoulders and muscled legs that show off the many years he’s been a runner. His stomach is flat and his abs defined, but my eyes are drawn instead to the bits I’ve never been able to stare at before.

  I knew he had a long cock and was landscaped, from the years of sometimes sleeping together in the same bed, or sharing changing rooms, but I’ve never been able to stare before. I can look now and I take the opportunity. His cock is long and thinner than mine, the skin a soft alabaster and stretched tight over the rigid length. He’s uncut, and the foreskin has peeled back, showing the juicy, wet head underneath that glows like a ripe plum.

  I swallow hard and look up to catch his eyes running feverishly over me cataloguing the length of my body. He looks up at me and catches my gaze. “I want you so much,” he says hoarsely. “I always have.”

  I open my arms and he comes down into them, and it’s as simple and profound as that. His mouth takes mine and his fingers move, tracing the skin of my chest, rubbing and kneading his fingers into the hair on my chest like a big cat.

  I arch under him, my bigger body moving him slightly so I can spread my legs to accommodate his. He falls elegantly between them, and we jerk as he raises up on his arms, slots his cock against mine and starts to slide up and down. I squeeze my eyes shut and moan helplessly as I feel his hard length rubbing firmly against me, offering a sublime push and release that sends sparks to my balls.

  He whispers my name, and when I open my eyes he lifts his palm to my mouth. “Spit,” he says harshly so I do. Then I have to overachieve by seizing his palm and licking it slowly and thoroughly until it’s wet and ready. He lowers his hand and pulls our cocks together, and then starts to whip his hips in a circular stroking motion that nearly sends the top of my head off. I grab his shoulders and arch into the jerking fist.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “So fucking good.”

  He lowers his head and takes my mouth, kissing me sloppily between our panting breaths.

  Heat curls in the base of my cock. “Shit, I’m close,” I shout and tuck my hips in. He immediately moves back and takes my mouth in a deep, wet kiss.

  “Where are they?” he mutters.

  I nod to the bedside cabinet and he gives me a strained smile, before reaching over and frantically pulling the drawer open. Too frantically, because he pulls it clean out of the cabinet and it crashes to the floor, sending the contents all over the carpet.

  I can’t help but laugh and it fills my bloodstream like fizzy lemonade. He shakes his head mockingly. “I thought I was so smooth.”

  He hangs off the bed balancing on his hands as he looks for the lube and condoms. All I can see are his pale arse cheeks, and before I can censor myself, the way I do with everyone else, I reach out and part the cheeks, brushing my finger over the furled, pink hole. “I want in there soon,” I say in a gravelly voice, and he gives a deep growl.

  “Shit. I want it too,” he gasps, and hangs off the bed as I lick my finger and touch his opening, tapping it gently and massaging it before inserting the tip.

  I can hear him panting and he starts to grind against the bed. I watch his cheeks flex, keeping my finger in his hole, feeling it tight and hot - a dark place made for my dick. He moans and jackknifes off the bed, grabbing something from the floor as he does so. When he joins me on the bed his cheeks are rosy and his eyes almost black, but he smiles widely.

  “I should be dizzy from doing a headstand for so long, but I think all the blood’s diverted into my dick,” he says cheerfully, and I let out an unexpected laugh. He watches me, smiling as if my laughter pleases him. “You look surprised to be laughing.”

  “It’s not been a regular occurrence,” I admit sheepishly, and he shakes his head disapprovingly.

  “Somehow I’m not surprised with Hugo. The only time he probably laughs in bed is when he’s reading the financial papers and the stock market crashes.”

  I chuckle. “Maybe.”

  He lies down next to me and kisses me deeply. When he pulls away I chase his mouth drunkenly, but he holds my face tenderly. “When we’re in bed together, anything goes, Noah. Anything. You want something, you ask me. If something is funny, we laugh. It’s us in this bed and no one else. You’re the person I trust most and I hope it’s the same for you?” I nod emphatically. “So, our bed is our country. We own the borders. We make the rules and we govern it fairly and freely. Agreed?”

  I nod solemnly and he grins before taking my mouth in a kiss that quickly burns out of control. We writhe on the bed, touching and groping, biting and licking, but time and again our mouths move to connect and we share our spit and breaths. I don’t know how much time has passed when he pulls back, but his pupils have blown and his skin is glistening with sweat, the red marks I made showing on his skin. He looks debauched and wild.

  “Need you now,” he says hoarsely, ripping open the condom and rolling it down. I raise my legs, holding them tight to my chest.

  “Get me ready,” I beg, and he gives me a broken grin.

  “I want you so bad,” he mutters as he coats his fingers
in lube, the liquid making the coloured pictures and words on his hands and fingers gleam.

  I throw my head back as one long finger circles my hole, waking up the nerve rich tissue so it throbs with urgency. I cry out and jerk my hips as he slowly inserts his finger, taking my arse inch by slow inch. When it’s lodged he wiggles it gently, searching until he finds the rough patch inside me, and when he taps it, I literally see stars.

  “Shit,” I shout out. “So fucking good. Come on, Sage. I need more.”

  “Then you’ll have it,” he says gutturally. “Whatever you need, you get.” Slowly and painstakingly he inserts two more fingers, taking his time until I’m an addled mess, lust blind and soaked in sweat, my hips jerking and my cock bobbing stiffly, a blood-red colour and soaked with pre-come.

  “Now,” I groan, tossing my head on the pillow. “I need you now.”

  “Yes,” he whispers, and lifts my hips, pushing a pillow beneath so I arch up towards him. Without any hesitation, he fits his cockhead against my hole and slides in. He moves steadily, sliding through my passage without a pause, until he bottoms out and I feel the bang of his balls against my arse.

  “Yes,” we both moan, and I grab my calves, widening my legs so he can get closer. He kneels up and grabs my hips to get traction.

  “Look at me,” he says in a voice so wrecked I don’t recognise it. “I want you to see me.”

  I force my eyes open and stare at him blearily. Every muscle in his torso is standing out, his hair is wet with sweat and clings to his head in mad tufts. His cheeks are berry red and his lips swollen from my kisses. “I love you,” he says deeply. “So much. And this is it for us. This is how we’ll be from now on. No one else. Just us.”

  “Just us,” I echo, grabbing his multi-coloured fingers and holding them tight. “I love you too, Sage. I always have.”

  He throws his head back and groans and I gasp as he starts to move. He works steadily, his hips in syncopated rhythm as he forces his cock into me, rubbing constantly against my prostate until it’s almost unbearable. All the time soft grunts and desperate moans fall from his mouth, mingling with my own cries and groans, so it’s almost like we’ve made our own music.

  He pulls back and the length of his cock tugs gently on the skin at my entrance. It hugs his cock lovingly, welcoming it in and holding it so it can’t leave.

  I cant my hips so I’m riding him from below until he rears back and grabs my ankles, wrapping my legs around him. “Want you all around me,” he says gutturally, and I gasp and nod because I’m no longer able to find words. I fasten my ankles together and wrap my arms around his torso as he starts to piston his hips hard. The motion causes his stomach to rub against my cock, the sweat between us making it a sensuous slide. I hiss and take his mouth furiously, groaning into the kiss. The heat sizzles in my groin and I tear my mouth free. “Fuck, I’m coming,” I shout.

  He groans harshly. “Fuck, yes. You need my hand?”

  I shake my head frantically, deaf and blind to everything apart from the fire in my balls and the ceaseless rubbing of my prostate making it swell and heat like I’m being jacked off from within. His hips speed up and the headboard bangs against the wall. I arch and cry out, my dick pulsing and emptying into the air, creamy liquid shooting out to hit my stomach and chest as he pulls up and rams his dick into me in tight, hard shoves until his whole body goes rigid. He cries out and I feel heat inside me from the filling condom.

  He collapses into my arms. “Mine,” he says, hugging me tight. “All mine at last.”

  “Always,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around him and kiss his head tenderly.

  Hours and a couple more bouts of sex later, he stirs in the cool dawn light. He’s curled around me, resting his head on my shoulder. His breath tickles my neck, and when I inhale I breathe in the scent of his shampoo. “Are you sure I’ll be enough?” he whispers.

  I start. “What? Where did that come from? You’ve been so confident all day.”

  He shrugs, curling his fingers in my chest hair. “I just don’t ever want to embarrass you, Noah. You’re such a clever and successful man. Won’t you be ashamed of me?” He stares at the curtains moving in the breeze. “I mean I’m just a tattoo artist. You write books.”

  He avoids my eyes and that shyness touches me deep inside. I stop his restless, colourful fingers and lift them to my mouth and kiss them. “Yes, I write books and they’re successful, but for how long? And you write stories too. You draw them on people’s skin and it’s a story they’ll read for the rest of their lives.” He stares at me transfixed, and I nod emphatically. “That’s staying power, Sage.”

  He smiles almost shyly, and in it I see the echoes of all the years I’ve known this quirky, wonderful boy, who climbed into my life so long ago and has stayed there waiting for me to see him. Waiting for me to realise that while we are different, it’s a difference that enriches both of us and tangles us together because underneath is something real. Something huge and permanent. Something we will always have in common.

  “I love you,” I say from the depths of that warm, deep feeling.

  He smiles with that quicksilver grin that has always captivated me, but now it’s different because layered in there now is security and relief and – I swallow hard – happiness. “I love you too, Noah. I always have and I always will.” He draws me to him and kisses me deeply and longingly, and I slide down into the bed, pulling him onto me and feeling the hard, hairy warmth of him and the already familiar length of his cock against mine.

  He’s just reaching for the lube when, as if on cue, both our phones dance and buzz on the bedside table. “What the fuck?” he mutters. “That’s weird.” He reaches over to get his phone and grabs mine and passes it to me. He looks down at the screen. “It’s an email from the Hearts and Minds Dating Agency,” he says, and laughs. “Do you think they’re giving us a discount because they’re worried we’ve killed each other?”

  I shake my head and tap the screen to bring up the email. “I don’t think we need dating apps anymore, do you?”

  I catch his delighted grin out of the corner of my eye, but I stiffen as I read the email. “What the fuck?” I breathe. “They had a glitch on their computer system two days ago and they’ve made thousands of mismatches. We were one of them.”

  He starts to laugh. “Oh my God. What an almighty cock up.”

  I snort. “It’s like they’ve singlehandedly subverted Valentine’s Day. All those terrible dates going on around the world.” I raise my hand. “Go Hearts and Minds. Anarchy dating at its finest.”

  He chucks his phone down on the table, and grabs mine and does the same. Then he curls up next to me.

  “They messed up and matched two completely different people, and they fell in love,” I say softly. “What are the odds that would happen?”

  To my amazement he smiles and draws me close, so my head rests on the heat and warmth of his chest and his arms surround me. “We’re not so different,” he whispers.

  I look up startled. “But we are, Sage. You know that.”

  He shakes his head and taking my hand he moves my fingers over the tattoos on his arms, until they take on their own life and trace the pictures and scattered words like they’ve been desperate to do so for years.

  “We’re like these tattoos,” he says quietly. “At the heart of us we’re the same because we have the same values and dreams. So that forms the outline. The outline is the base for everything. There can’t be a clear picture without that.” I stare at him, and a smile tugs at his lips. “And our differences, Noah, are the colours inside. Everything we experience both together and apart, all the stories we’ll have to tell of our lives, will flesh out the basic lines and create this amazing tapestry.” He shrugs. “That’s life, Noah, and it’s a good one.”

  I stare at him. “If we ever decide to have children, I’m naming one of them Heart.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “Your mother is going to be so happy.”


  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  I lean on the balcony enjoying the feeling of the late afternoon sunshine on my face and body. I’m naked but luckily the balcony prevents anyone viewing my bits. I stretch luxuriously feeling the ache in my arse and the soreness of my lips.

  All I can see from my perch is a stretch of ocean that’s bluer than a forget me not and the sun bouncing off the white streets of Santorini. It’s a beautiful village that stretches next to the sea, a maze of winding cobbled streets and sun baked brick. Bright flowers are everywhere, and the scents of verbena and herbs linger in the air. Wherever I look I see the colours blue and white.

  This is the latest stop on a holiday that seems to be lasting longer than a season of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Everyone warned us that travelling together was the quickest way to end a relationship, but in truth it’s brought us even closer together if that is possible.

  Last year we backpacked around Thailand and Vietnam and this time we’re island hopping in Greece. Sage is my perfect companion. Warm and sociable he makes every day a different experience. He talks to everyone and draws me along helplessly in his charming orbit. Through him we’ve made many friends and had so many life experiences.

  He’s easygoing and endlessly interested in everything. He’ll tramp along beside me wherever we decide to go, happy to talk and yet equally content to fall silent when I’m wrapped in a view or a feeling that I know will enter my book.

  My laptop has accompanied us, and he’s taken to calling it Trudy and referring to it as my wife. However, despite the jokes he’s remarkably restful, being content to snooze in the sun like a cat, or lie reading, or drawing in his sketchbook while I tap away on my keyboard. I feel he’s infused my writing with the same warmth that he does my life, and my editor had remarked the other day how real and present my characters now seem.

  Footsteps sound behind me and I turn to see him padding towards me. His wavy hair is longer than it’s been in years and he’s tanned and content looking with a sleepy grin. I watch as he wraps a sky-blue sarong around his narrow hips and then smile and sigh happily as his strong arms wrap around my waist. I nestle back against the sleep warmed skin of his body and smile down at his patterned fingers, I lean back to grab a kiss. “You slept for ages.”