The Wedding (Starting Over Book 3)

by Matthew J. Metzger

  Aled was home.

  Chapter Three

  Aled was woken by off-key singing in the shower and it had never sounded so beautiful.

  That was the mark of having been away too long, he decided. Gabriel’s singing was not only off-key, it showed no awareness of even knowing what a key was. It was more correctly described as godawful screeching, similar to the death throes of a savaged cat, and yet it drew Aled gently out of his dreams like a siren song.

  He threw back the covers and went hunting.

  Aled was thirty-five years old, overweight and ginger. He had to wear glasses if he wanted to see more than a foot in front of his face and if he ever blushed, he looked like someone had set him alight. And Gabriel—

  Aled stripped naked, marched into the bathroom and opened the shower cubicle.

  Gabriel was gorgeous. Twenty-six and looking more like nineteen, thanks to the eternal youth bestowed upon him by the combination of his assigned sex and his hormone replacement therapy. He was slim and sleek, fat beads of water hanging on eyelashes so black that they shimmered a dark blue in the LED lighting of their bathroom. His hair was like ink spilled over his scalp and his eyes were an arresting dark blue, like a clear sky at twilight. Dark lips, dark nipples and a dark cock almost hidden in the trimmed pool of matching darkness at his crotch were the only disturbances to the miles of alabaster perfection in front of him, and even Aled’s fair skin looked tanned against Gabriel’s as they touched.

  He didn’t say anything. His arousal was burning too close to the surface for a game, but his lust was too strong for something sweet and loving. He didn’t want to worship or love. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to stake a claim. He knew exactly what Gabriel got up to while Aled was away and who else would have been buried to the hilt inside him recently.

  Well, now it was Aled’s turn.

  He was crude about it, shoving his way inside with nothing by means of preparation or play. Gabriel was tight and hot around him, like a fist in a silk glove squeezing his dick to the brink of pain. Some other time—soon—Aled would go slow. Tie Gabriel down and fuck him wide open, leave marks all over his skin and words to burrow into his brain. Play a proper game. But faced with the sheer sensuality of his naked body in the shower after six weeks apart, Aled fucked him like a faceless doll, the sound of skin on skin more like slaps than sex. It was over as quickly as it began. The climax smashed into him like a sucker-punch and he left a savage bite in the back of Gabriel’s shoulder. He drew blood and smacked the wound when he pulled out again.

  “Turn around.”

  Gabriel turned on wobbly knees. Aled caught the back of his neck and dragged him into a hungry kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, and the slippery hands that raked through his hair were shaking. He was shuddering with pent-up lust and Aled smirked when he pulled back.

  “You want to come too?”

  “Yes.”

  Aled raised a single eyebrow.

  “Yes, sir. Please. Sir.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “S-sir?”

  “Get yourself off,” Aled said. “Or don’t—whichever suits you. But—”

  He leaned it, and bit down on Gabriel’s earlobe until the gasp of pleasure turned into a whine of pain.

  “You’re not getting out of this bathroom until you’ve welcomed me home. Properly.”

  * * * *

  Properly took time.

  Aled really should stop having sex in bathrooms. His lower back was killing him by the time they were done, and he fumbled his way into jeans and a T-shirt. His dick ached a bit too, but it was worth it. And it didn’t ache as much as Gabriel’s arse after being bent over the sink and drilled.

  “Do we have to go out?”

  Aled smirked. Gabriel was lying on the edge of their bed, feet on the floor and body on the mattress. He’d wriggled into his briefs and unzipped skinny jeans, then given up. His bare feet were sensual on the lush carpet and his bare breasts tempting against the crumpled sheets.

  “Sorry, but yes. Tom and Suze got engaged and want to celebrate and talk plans over lunch.”

  “Can’t we do that some other time?” Gabriel whined. “You just got home.”

  “And you’re not very surprised by the news.”

  Gabriel shrugged. He began to toy with his left nipple. He’d had it pierced a couple of months ago and the silver ring flashed in the sunlight pouring through the window.

  “Tom told me he was thinking about it,” he said.

  “Ahh.”

  “I’d rather stay here and welcome you home again.”

  Gabriel’s voice had dropped huskily, and Aled smirked. He stepped over Gabriel’s legs, bracketing his thighs between Aled’s knees, and leaned over. Gabriel’s wrists felt fragile in his hands as Aled pinned them to the bed. The ring was cold metal over a hot breast and he sucked until Gabriel whined breathlessly underneath him. The nipple itself hardened. Aled’s cock was too tired to do the same.

  “When we get back,” he promised, “I will strap you down and thoroughly explore every inch of you.”

  Gabriel bit his lip.

  “I’d rather you played with me.”

  Aled raised his eyebrows, surprised.

  “Kevin’s away, and Chris and I aren’t really there yet. And I don’t think he does forceful. I wanted to be forced.”

  Aled smirked. “Okay,” he said. “When we get back, we’ll play a game. Any game you like. But we really do need to go now and have lunch with them.”

  Gabriel sighed, but lifted his head for a quick kiss and rolled out from under Aled. The ring was hidden by a bra, and a black T-shirt was poured over his slender back, the fuck having either rendered him too sore for his binder, or too blissed-out to care. Aled turned ideas over in his head as to which game they could play. He wasn’t in the mood for especially violent, but a painful fuck drove Gabriel just as wild. Maybe he could fist him or get the bigger toys out. The ring would hurt if he jerked that around, but it was dangerous playing too much with Gabriel’s tits. He didn’t want to trigger any dysphoria in the middle of a game.

  He pondered as they locked up and Gabriel bounced into the car. The engine took a couple of tries to get going, six weeks of sitting idle in the garage having helped nothing. Gabriel dug out his sunglasses from the glovebox and looked positively gothic in his blacks as he played on his phone. Aled smirked. It was a pity that forcing him into a skirt would definitely trigger dysphoria, because shoving him into some tiny leather dress that barely hid a chastity belt would definitely make for a fun game.

  “I thought Chris was coming to stay?” he asked as they joined the shopping traffic.

  “He did. He went home from our race yesterday. He gets the train.”

  “Doesn’t he drive?”

  “He can’t afford a car.”

  “Huh,” Aled said. “What does he do?”

  “Works in a bike shop.”

  “Of course he does,” Aled drawled. Gabriel just chuckled. “What are you guys, anyway? Just fucking, or is it a more involved thing?”

  “More involved,” Gabriel said. “Though it’s a bit tricky.”

  “Why?”

  “Erm, well, I think he’s still figuring himself out.”

  “Ah,” Aled said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Surprised you’ve kept carrying on with him, then.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s—fun. I like him. We never ever talk about it, but—yeah. He’s supposedly not into men. I’m not totally sure he’s ever been into anyone before.”

  Aled winced.

  “I don’t really know what to do about it,” Gabriel admitted.

  “Does it make you feel bad?”

  “Most of the time, I forget that’s how he feels. But when I remember, it feels awful.”

  Aled whistled through his teeth. “You know I can’t help with that.”

  “Yeah, I know. You can listen, though.”

  “Always.”

  Aled couldn�
�t sympathise. He was bisexual. Always had been. He’d known it from the start. He’d been more wound up about what got him off than who got him off. Getting aroused by violent kink was scary. Getting aroused by any gender wasn’t. He could see why Chris figuring out his sexuality might upset Gabriel, but he couldn’t really understand why Chris had to figure anything out. Why wasn’t it as simple as it had been for Aled? Why wasn’t it just a case of shrugging, saying, “Huh. Go figure,” and having some more sex to make sure?

  “For the minute, I’m kind of ignoring it,” Gabriel said. “I mean, he’s not using me as an experiment or anything, so it’s not really gross. I’m just—I don’t know. Rolling with it. When it stops being fun, I’ll dump him.”

  Aled laughed. “You all over, that. Could you dump Greg first, though? He’s a prick.”

  “He’s a laugh!”

  They argued good-naturedly about Greg. He was a recent recruit from the gym where Gabriel worked, and—in Aled’s opinion—was nothing but a vain, empty-headed moron dangerously obsessed with weightlifting. But he and Gabriel liked the same shit music and had fucked in a toilet at Leeds Arena when some godawful band had been playing, so Gabriel liked him. At least he wasn’t a shithead like one of Gabriel’s stalker exes. He was just…urgh.

  “Nobody said you have to fuck him,” Gabriel pointed out as Aled pulled up into the pub car park.

  “Just as well, I think it’d turn me straight.”

  “He’s lovely in bed. Very considerate.”

  “I didn’t think considerate got you off.”

  “Anyone rimming you like Greg does would get you off, trust me.”

  Aled coughed a laugh as they got out, then the conversation was thoroughly derailed by Suze’s yell from the picnic benches outside the pub doors. It was still very warm, despite September having arrived and the leaves steadily turning red and brown on the trees. Tom simply grinned sheepishly, but Suze was full of energy, yesterday’s tears and worries forgotten. A ring gleamed on her finger and she showed it off proudly as they approached. Aled grinned right back, his heart swelling. God, it was good to see her happy.

  “I said yes!” she shrieked.

  “More fool you,” Gabriel said, but hugged her anyway.

  Aled rolled his eyes and called Gabriel a grump before getting his own hug. He twirled her before setting her down again.

  “I’ll get the drinks,” he said. “Anyone want booze?”

  Surprisingly, the happy couple refused. Gabriel was a recovering alcoholic. He’d been dry for years now, but Aled didn’t drink with Gabriel around, so it made for a cheap tray of Pepsis, which they clinked together in a toast as if they were champagnes.

  “Still time to back out, you know,” Gabriel said.

  Tom grinned. “Nah, I’m all right, thanks.”

  “You say that now…”

  “Hey, I want to be a dad. Clock’s ticking now, mate. And she’s got good genes.”

  Gabriel sniggered. “She’s not a horse.”

  “Good ankles, long legs—”

  “She is right here,” Suze said snidely. “You got a death wish, Lazarri?”

  “Nope. I’m safe. You’d not lift a finger against your best mate’s boyfriend.”

  Tom guffawed. Suze’s scowl said he wouldn’t be safe for much longer, and Aled smirked.

  “Safe from her. Not so much me. Just wait until I get you home. It’s going to be the footlong for you.”

  Tom choked on his drink.

  “Now you broke the fiancé,” Gabriel said disapprovingly.

  “If you both don’t stop it, you won’t be invited,” Suze sulked.

  “Bollocks,” Aled drawled. He got whacked with her purse for his cheek, and promised a thrashing when Gabriel just laughed at him.

  “Serious faces on!” Suze commanded. “Wedding. So. You’re both coming. End of story. Aled has to give me away and Gabriel has to horrify my stupid relatives.”

  “Er, why? I don’t do weddings. Leave me out of this.”

  “They’re all raging bigots. We’ll have to get you a tie coloured like the transgender flag,” Aled said.

  A devious grin spread over Gabriel’s face. It was hot as hell and Aled shifted uncomfortably.

  “I’m not wearing some ugly tie,” Gabriel said, “but I think I’m going to pass as much as possible and spend the whole wedding with my tongue down Aled’s throat. Oh! Can I bring Chris and neck with him too? That’ll really horrify them.”

  Tom snorted with laughter and called him a slag. Aled just smirked. Gabriel could be a right belligerent tart if he sensed disapproval and Aled was already looking forward to the show.

  “Anyway, Gabriel, if you don’t come, Aled might get a bit too friendly with one of the bridesmaids,” Suze said.

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “And I should care because…?”

  “God, close your relationship already. It’s too hard to blackmail you.”

  “Nope. It’s an added bonus.”

  “I hate you both,” Suze proclaimed dramatically, then completely ruined the moment by saying, “And you’re both coming, so shut up before I have to break one of you and ruin the photos.”

  “When is it?” Aled asked.

  “We were thinking April.”

  “And in Cornwall,” Tom said. “But you’d both be part of the wedding party proper, so we can sort you out with somewhere to stay. I’m taking up part of my dad’s business.”

  “Eh?” Gabriel said.

  “Tom’s dad owns a hotel chain,” Aled supplied.

  “Oh. Oh. Er, why haven’t we taken advantage of this before?”

  “I don’t want to know what you two do in hotels,” Tom said primly.

  “Nothing,” Aled said. “We’ve never stayed in a hotel together.”

  Cabins, tents, hostels, villas, caravans, that one time overnight in an airport—but no hotels. Not together. Gabriel got up to plenty in hotels with other people, but not with Aled. And Aled had only got up to things in hotels back when he was married, with his wife, on holidays—like most husbands with a sex life—or when work sent him to the San Diego office and his British accent tricked someone in the local bar into thinking that he was sexy.

  “Maybe we should,” Gabriel said sweetly.

  “Not in my dad’s hotels!”

  “Mm, a touch of the forbidden. I like it.”

  “You’re both gross.”

  “And you’re so vanilla there’s something wrong with you,” Gabriel said sweetly.

  “Hey!” Suze clapped her hands with a deafening crack. “Focus! Wedding!”

  “Okay, okay, we’ll come to Cornwall.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “It’s only a few hours away. Not the end of the earth.”

  Aled could have kissed him for the comment, after Suze’s meltdown in the car. She bit her lip, a funny look coming over her face, then shook herself.

  “Yeah. Well. Um. I need you on board before the big day too, you know. I need my best friend for pre-wedding stuff. And to shop dresses with me.”

  Oh, no. No-no-no-no. Aled shook his head at once. “I draw the line at dress shopping.”

  “Brother of the bride, you have to.”

  “Who’s been married here?” Aled argued. “I don’t. Women only at those things.”

  Suze’s gaze flickered ever so slightly to Gabriel, who narrowed his eyes and said, “Don’t even think about it,” in a sharp voice.

  “Then it has to be you, Aled.”

  “You need to get more female friends.”

  “I am not taking Jen dress shopping. Her taste is awful—”

  “You had to say it, didn’t you,” Tom said accusingly then overrode the imminent rant by loudly declaring that he’d cause a family feud by which brother to pick for his best man.

  “Pick a friend, then.”

  “That’d be even worse.”

  A waitress with menus interrupted the debate and it moved seamlessly to food. Tom was dismissed to the bar and Gabriel took the opportunity to go to th
e gents. Possibly he’d sensed Suze’s fidgeting, for the minute both men were out of earshot, she leaned across the picnic bench towards Aled.

  “I’m going to need you,” she implored. “Both of you. Tom’s mum is a right controlling cow and his dad is a bigot. It has to be exactly like this, this is how all Hoopers get married, blah blah blah. I want it to be my wedding, not whatever Tom’s parents’ wedding was like.”

  “Well, you know where to find me when you need a rant, but I draw the line at dress shopping,” Aled said.

  “I need your advice. Your wedding was amazing.”

  “Don’t take wedding advice from the divorced guy,” Aled warned.

  She rolled her eyes. “I said wedding. Not marriage advice. You sucked at being married.”

  “True.”

  “But then, you and Melissa weren’t right for each other in the end. You and Gabriel are.”

  Aled stiffened. “What?”

  “You and Gabriel! Doesn’t this make you want to do it again?”

  “Right,” Aled drawled and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the pub doors. “You think Gabriel could say inside his suit long enough to get married? He’d go traditional and shag the best man.”

  “Excuse me, I’d be your best man, so no he wouldn’t,” Suze said tartly.

  “Face it, Suze, I’m living in sin and I like it. I’m not getting hitched again.”

  “Fine,” she said airily, waving a hand as though brushing his objection aside. “But you’re making a mistake. You have something incredible in your lap—most of the time literally!—and you don’t want to stake a claim? Stupid.”

  “Staked plenty of claims,” Aled said blithely.

  “Aled!”

  Aled twisted around. Gabriel was hovering at the pub doors.

  “I, er, I forgot my wallet,” he said.

  “S’fine,” Aled said. “I’ll get it.”

  He got the double meaning, too, when Gabriel loped over and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

  “I’ll owe you one.”

  Oh. Oh.

  Aled nodded, feigning absent-minded ignorance, and patted his bum lightly. But the cogs had started to turn. He’d be staking another claim tonight and giving Gabriel that painful fuck he was after.