A Little Lesson

by Pandora Pine

  “Come in before I let you, right here on the front steps.” Nash held the door open and ushered Bronson into his house. Walking through the small, neat living room, Nash led the way into the kitchen which featured a dining room table.

  “Nash, this place is perfect.” Bronson set the flowers and bakery box down on the table and hauled the teacher into his arms.

  Nash could feel the tension coiled tight in Bronson’s muscles. He wrapped his arms around Bronson’s back and held him tight. Words could wait, touching each other was more important at the moment.

  Bronson melted against Nash’s chest. He held on tight, his face pressed in the hollow of Nash’s shoulder. “You smell so good. I missed you,” Bronson mumbled into Nash’s shirt.

  “I missed you too.” Nash held on tighter. “I’m making steak and baked potatoes on the grill are you hungry?”

  Bronson nodded. “I ran out for a sandwich at Donatello’s but after a few bites, I couldn’t stomach it.”

  “I can’t eat when I’m nervous either.” Nash pressed a kiss to Bronson’s forehead. “How about a beer?”

  “God, I’d love one.” Bronson grinned against Nash’s warm skin and picked his head up. “I don’t like to drink around Tucker.”

  Nash nodded thoughtfully. “It might not be my place to say it…” He trailed off uncertainly.

  “It is your place. You told me we’d figure this thing out together. Don’t start holding back on me now.” Bronson crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Okay, well, when you put it that way.” Reaching into the fridge, Nash grabbed two Harpoon IPAs in brown glass bottles with their colorful floral labels, and held one out to Bronson. “Maybe it would be a good idea to make a list of things like that, things that you do or don’t do when Tucker is home.”

  Bronson nodded, popping the cap off his bottle. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Nash sagged visibly, reaching back into the fridge for the steaks. “Thought I’d make these out on the grill. Wanna come along?”

  Bronson nodded, picking up the large baking potatoes wrapped in foil. “I can’t wait to see your yard.”

  Heading toward the back door leading to the small deck he and his father built a few years back, Nash felt Bronson’s arm snake around his middle. “Thanks for being here for me, Nash. It means a lot to me. I…” Bronson sucked in a deep breath.

  Relaxing back into Bronson, Nash had a pretty good idea what he was about to say.

  “I’ve never had a friend like you before.” Bronson sighed against Nash’s ear. “What I’m trying to say is that I think I can move mountains and keep my son thanks to your faith in me.”

  Startled by the depth of Bronson’s words, Nash sucked in a harsh breath. “I feel the same way about you.” God help him, he did, and so much more besides.

  XX

  Bronson pushed back from the table, sure the button on his pants was going to shoot off and ricochet around Nash’s cute kitchen. He’d eaten more than should have been humanly possible, especially with those court papers hanging over his head.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Nash asked with an amused smile.

  “You mean besides a forklift to haul my ass out of here?” Bronson laughed. He’d eaten his steak and potato, plus two bowls of salad and then half of Nash’s steak when the teacher declared he couldn’t possibly eat another bite.

  “You said you didn’t really eat lunch.” Nash reached in front of him to grab his plate and utensils.

  What Bronson was a bit hesitant to say out loud was that being with Nash calmed him. His steady countenance and happy demeanor helped to keep Bronson’s pogo stick emotions in check. “I’m scared to death, Nash. My stomach is rocking and rolling like I’m on a roller coaster and my anxiety is so high, my hands are shaking.” Bronson held them up to prove his point.

  Nash hurried back from the sink to take the chair next to Bronson. “I know I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes.” He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to Bronson’s cheek. “Let’s just rip the band-aid off and read the papers, that way we’ll know where we stand. Then, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

  Bronson studied Nash’s earnest look, reaching out both hands to cup the sides of his face. “You’re right. I need to stop being a giant five year old and just open the damn thing.” Bronson reached into his back pocket and pulled out the large envelope. Through the paper, he could feel the packet of documents inside.

  Taking a deep breath, Bronson ripped off the flap and slid the papers out onto the table. He and Nash stared at them for a minute before Nash reached for Bronson’s hand. “Let’s do this.” Bronson slid the papers toward them.

  Quickly skimming the top of the first page, Bronson read his name and Alicia’s along with their addresses and of course the money line of the papers regarding the custody of the minor child, Tucker Brady McKinnon. The words, “Sole Legal Custody,” even though Bronson knew they were coming, hit his heart like a freight train.

  “So this is what we expected, right?” Nash squeezed their joined hands.

  There were no surprises on the front page of the document. It was a standard custody form that some five hundred dollar an hour lawyer simply filled in with Bronson's and Tucker's names.

  Unfortunately, the nasty surprise was the plaintiff, Alicia's, reason for applying for sole legal custody. Words like "amoral" and "homosexual" jumped out at him.

  "...afraid defendant's amoral lifestyle will corrupt the minor child as well as placing him in danger at the hands of the homosexual men with whom the defendant associates." Nash read the words out loud, his voice growing sadder with each word.

  "Jesus fucking Christ." Bronson breathed out a harsh breath, carding a hand through his already messy hair. He knew Alicia had it out for him, but he never thought she'd sink this low.

  Nash pulled his hands away from Bronson and got up to grab the pink cupcake box Bronson had brought with him. He grabbed some paper plates and napkins before bringing the box back toward the table. "You know, shit like that is the reason men like us couldn't teach kindergarten."

  His host's words shook Bronson out of his head. "You mean because there was the fear gay men would molest little boys?"

  Nash nodded and opened the box, his sad eyes brightening for a moment as he pulled out two huge cupcakes decorated for fall. He set them on the plates and slid one in front of Bronson. "We're gonna need forks to eat these."

  "Nah." Bronson grinned. "Getting dirty is half the fun." He watched in amusement as Nash's blue eyes darkened with lust. Bronson had never been with another man who was so responsive to him.

  "Is it now?" Nash dipped a finger into the bright yellow icing on his cupcake and held it out to Bronson.

  His heart pounding against his ribcage, Bronson licked over the frosting, moaning low in his throat as his tongue rasped against Nash's skin. He watched rapt, as Nash watched him devour the sweet treat. It looked like Nash wasn't breathing at all. "My turn." Bronson swiped his finger through a red fall leaf made of butter cream, but instead of offering it to Nash, used it to paint his lips. "God, you look good enough to fucking eat."

  Nash stayed still, seeming to be waiting for whatever Bronson had in store for him.

  Grinning, Bronson bent over Nash, licking and sucking the frosting off his lips. His cock jerked in his pants when he saw the red dye had stained Nash's beautiful full lips. "If you could only see yourself with those red lips."

  "Like that, do you?" Nash licked out over his lips, slowly, tasting the leftover frosting and smearing more of the color into his lips.

  "Jesus Christ, Nash! I'd love to see those ruby red lips wrapped around my cock."

  Nash gasped, a hand fluttering to his heart.

  Bronson thought he'd blown it, literally, by suggesting such a thing, but before he could come up with a suitable apology, Nash grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the living room. Bronson couldn't help laughing. "Eager much?"

  Nash
turned to push Bronson down onto his sectional. "It's not every day a gorgeous man asks me to blow him, red lips or not." Once Bronson's ass hit the couch, Nash followed, straddling his lap.

  "Man, you're something." Bronson slung his arms around Nash's hips and pulled them flush against each other. Nash's erection pressed hot and heavy against his own.

  "Shut up and kiss me." Nash raised an eyebrow as if he were challenging Bronson to refuse.

  Not wasting any time, Bronson smashed their lips together. Nash's entire body jumped when Bronson's lips made contact.

  A moment later, Nash wrapped one arm around the back of Bronson's neck and started palming the bulge in Bronson's pants with his free hand.

  "Fuck me!" Bronson moaned breathlessly. It had been so long since another hand beside his own touched his dick, and what a talented hand it was.

  "One thing at a time." Nash winked and pressed a kiss against the dip in Bronson's collarbone before sliding to the floor. Sitting up on his knees, Nash went for the button of Bronson's jeans. Seconds later, he'd pulled down the zipper. "Up!" Nash commanded, jerking on the sides of Bronson's jeans.

  Wordlessly, Bronson lifted his ass while Nash slid his jeans and red boxer briefs off.

  "What a gorgeous cock." Nash grinned, licking his lips obscenely, all the while staring into Bronson's eyes.

  Bronson loved this dirty side of Nash. Who knew a teacher could have a mouth on him like that? "You gonna suck my dick with that mouth?"

  "Thought you'd never fucking ask!" Wasting no time, Nash dove on Bronson's cock like a starving man at a buffet. He sucked the shaft down to the root, using his tongue to lick downward toward Bronson's sack as if he wanted to shove that in his mouth too.

  "Jesus, fuck!" Bronson moaned, sinking his hands into Nash's silky dark hair. Granted, he hadn’t gotten a lot of blow jobs from other men in his life, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt this was the best one he'd ever had. Nash was unbelievable.

  Pushing Bronson's legs wider, Nash played with his balls, soft and gentle one minute, a bit rougher the next.

  "Such a good dirty boy," Bronson panted. "MY good dirty boy."

  Nash stopped slurping up and down Bronson's shaft long enough to smile around his mouthful.

  "Does my dirty boy swallow?" Bronson tightened his hands in Nash's hair. What Nash was doing was incredible but Bronson needed to come, needed to fuck Nash's face until his cock was blowing its load down his throat.

  Keeping Bronson's cock half-way down his throat, Nash winked.

  Message received. Bronson rearranged his hold on Nash's head, one hand tangled in his hair, the other cupping the side of his face. He could feel Nash hollowing out his cheek as he sucked on Bronson's dick.

  Moaning low in his throat, Nash dug his hands into Bronson's meaty thighs, seeming to be holding on for dear life.

  "Jesus, that sweet fucking dirty mouth." Bronson canted his hips harder, slamming the head of his cock against the back of Nash's throat. Nash, for his part, looked like he was in heaven with his red-stained lips stretched to accommodate Bronson's girth, his eyes rolled back in his head in seeming ecstasy.

  "Gonna come, Nash."

  Nash only moaned again, locking eyes with Bronson.

  Egged on by the wild look in Nash's eyes and the sexy way he kept moaning while Bronson told him exactly what he was going to do, Bronson fucked his face harder. He knew he wasn't going to last long like this and just stared into Nash's eyes while his come rose. "NASH!" Bronson roared, his cock erupting in Nash's mouth.

  Nash held on tighter and kept swallowing around Bronson's jerking cock.

  Loosening his hold on Nash's head, Bronson sat back and watched his lover eagerly drain him dry. "Oh my fucking God." Bronson sighed and collapsed back against the couch, feeling like Nash had drunk down every ounce of energy he had left.

  "That good, huh?" Nash sat back on his heels, swiping the back of his hand against his wet mouth.

  “Take off your pants, Nash. Time for dessert.”

  “But you had dessert at the table.” Nash looked confused.

  “Your dick is my dessert. Now strip!” Bronson saw the bulge in Nash’s pants jump at the commanding tone in his voice.

  Nash hopped back to his feet, his hands instantly going for the button on his jeans. Seconds later, he was naked from the waist down, his cock bobbing against his stomach.

  Bronson stood up, stalking toward Nash like he was prey, which in a way, he was. Bronson was going to eat him whole. Hitting his knees in front of Nash, he grinned up at him before licking out at the pearly drop of pre-come leaking from Nash’s dick. “Mmm, fucking delicious. Feed me, Nash.” Bronson opened wide.

  Grabbing his cock in his right hand, Nash rubbed it against the side of Bronson’s smooth cheek before gliding it over his open lips.

  Bronson groaned in frustration. He wanted, no he needed, Nash’s cock in his mouth. Looking up at Nash, he could see his lover was enjoying every second of teasing Bronson.

  Dropping a sexy wink, Nash obeyed, sliding his dick into Bronson’s mouth until it hit the back of his throat, letting out breathy little moans as he went.

  Closing his lips around the ultimate prize, Bronson went to work on Nash’s thick erection. He was alternating light suction with lashing his tongue up and down the shaft. He could tell Nash was just as into it as he was with his steady stream of moans and the way his hands were tightening in Bronson’s hair.

  With as cloudy as his future was at the moment, Bronson had a feeling deep down in his soul that Nash was the one for him. He was the man who would make Bronson’s life complete. The man who would be the perfect father to Tucker. Tucker…

  Coming back to his senses, Bronson pushed back from Nash, landing flat on his ass. He could see his own spit gleaming on the shaft of his dick.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Nash’s blue eyes were drowning in concern.

  “I’m about to lose my son for being gay and here I am sucking your dick?” Bronson’s voice was high pitched and full of panic. He could feel his heart jackhammering in his chest and it wasn’t from having Nash’s dick in his mouth.

  Scrambling back to his feet, Bronson snatched his pants up off the floor and started shoving his legs into them. What the fuck was he thinking? He should be strategizing how to keep Tucker., interviewing lawyers who specialize in custody or at the library reading up on Massachusetts case law. He should be anywhere but here, doing anything other than sucking cock.

  With a calm look in his eyes, Nash got dressed, his eyes on Bronson. He took a deep breath, as if he were thinking over what to say. “We’re going to do everything we can to win this custody battle. I promise you, Bronson. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and I’ll make us some tea and then we can talk?”

  “I don’t want any fucking tea! Bronson thundered, surprised by the force in his own voice. Reacting like this wasn’t like him at all. The old Bronson would have suggested a cup of tea and a talk himself. This new, angry, Bronson was a bit of a surprise.

  Nash nodded, shoving his hands into his front pockets. “Even if you weren't gay, Alicia would still want revenge for whatever the reason was that your marriage broke up. She'd still want to move Tucker to Connecticut with her rich fiancée. Don't you get that?"

  Of course Bronson got that. He’d known from the moment Alicia explained her plans to take Tucker away from him that all she wanted was revenge. While they’d been “dating,” he’d seen a vindictive side to her, but since he was just using her as his cover, he couldn’t have cared less. It wasn’t like he was going to marry her or be stuck with her forever.

  He should have known she’d turn her lethal claws toward him for getting her pregnant, for costing her the dream of being the next Diane Sawyer, for not loving her, for leaving her. The list went on and on.

  As amazing as it had been being with Nash tonight, Tucker was and would always be more important than his own needs and desires. “I have to go.”

  “Drive safe.” N
ash stood stone-still, a sad smile on his full lips.

  “Dinner was great,” Bronson mumbled, not knowing what the hell else to say. He strode out the front door, shutting it behind him. The click it made when the lock mechanism sounded echoed with finality in his ears.

  10

  The rest of the week moved at a snail’s pace. Nash hadn’t heard from or seen Bronson since their aborted date night. Either Alicia or Bronson’s parents had been bringing Tucker to school and picking him up at the end of the day.

  Nash had spent his time without Bronson going over and over that last night. Yes, Bronson had been the one to start things between them physically, but he should have been smart enough to know that Bronson used sex as a distraction and pushed him off.

  He didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t that strong. He’d wanted Bronson. He’d wanted to do exactly what they’d done together and a lot more besides, but by listening to the lunatic ravings of his cock, he’d royally fucked things up between them.

  Huddling into his fall jacket to escape the cold September wind whipping off the river, Nash pushed through the front door of the Blue Chicken, his favorite downtown restaurant. Quickly scanning the large Friday night crowd, he easily spotted Remington and Knox who were laughing together over something.

  “Hey guys.” Nash raised a hand in greeting. He wasn’t in the mood to be here. All he wanted to do was stop at the Wendy’s drive-thru, buy twenty bucks worth of food and go home to watch a marathon of Hawaii Five-0 while he ate his feelings.