The Wedding (Starting Over Book 3)

by Matthew J. Metzger

  His birth father was in the wedding photo. Dad’s best friend, the best man at his wedding, the partner in crime who’d nudged him when the pretty doctor from cardiology had walked past in the hospital canteen and said, “Time to grow a pair and ask her out, Euan.” He had Aled’s ginger hair and crooked smile. His name had been David. His girlfriend was Amanda, a primary school teacher from Hebden Bridge. She had worn soft cardigans all the time and made the best sponge cake in all of Yorkshire. He’d owned an old brown Ford car, with a blue flower on the bonnet that she’d painted just to annoy him one summer.

  Rainy night, sharp bend and the old Ford had come off the road.

  And that was that.

  Aled put the photo down and turned to find Nana staring at him through narrowed eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter, you know,” she said.

  “What?”

  “If you marry Gabby.”

  “Nana—”

  “She’s family.”

  Aled smiled.

  Family. Like Kevin and Judith. Like Nana. Like Tom and Suze. Like the people who were nothing to do with how they were made, but everything to do with who they’d become. Like the people who loved them.

  * * * *

  Aled opened a single eye as the bathroom door opened.

  “You still soaking?”

  “Yup.”

  Gabriel shut the door with a snap and slid down to sit on the bathmat, hooking his arms over the edge. He grimaced faintly, and Aled smirked.

  “Sore?”

  “Bastard.”

  “You start mouthing off again, I’ll do it again.”

  “That’s a definite red,” Gabriel muttered. “I feel like my ovaries are going to fall out.”

  “Oh, please. That’s nothing. Wait until you find out what Kevin’s got planned for you for New Year.”

  “Oh, fuck—”

  “Well, yeah…”

  Gabriel laughed, then rocked his head to rest sideways on the edge of the bath. It looked painful as hell, yet he seemed to relax there.

  “You all right?” Aled asked.

  “Mm. Just got off the phone with my uncle.”

  “Bad news?”

  “I guess,” Gabriel said. “My mother is coming up to visit Granddad. Scott was trying to persuade me to see her.”

  “Fuck that,” Aled said. “She’s not your family.”

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Er. She’s my—”

  “Mother doesn’t make her a mum,” Aled interrupted. “None of that lot are your family. You don’t owe them shit.”

  “I know,” Gabriel said. “I’m not going. Rather let Kevin beat me for real, no safewords. Scott’s just—he pulls the guilt trip shit.”

  “Then to hell with him too. He should know better. You said they drove him out for being gay.”

  “Guess they’ve made up.”

  “Bully for them.”

  Gabriel stood up and stripped out of his briefs. The savage welts on his arse were a violent red as he dipped a toe into the bath water, then vanished under the bubbles as he sank into the heat with Aled. Aled raised an eyebrow but spread his legs to allow Gabriel to wedge himself between them. The bath wasn’t huge, but Gabriel was a skinny wretch, so it was just about manageable. The ring glinted and Aled cupped the guilty breast, gently massaging the weightless curve in the palm of his hand.

  “Mm. S’nice…”

  Gabriel relaxed against him and Aled brushed his lips along his hairline.

  “We got a family right here,” he whispered. “Kevin and Judith and Tom and Suze and Nana. You want to go visit someone, go visit them.”

  Gabriel sighed, and stretched. The water rippled.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he whispered, “and I won’t be going nowhere.”

  Aled chuckled and began to roll the nipple between finger and thumb. He was too tired and full of good food to bother joining in, but he loaned both hands to Gabriel’s idle masturbation and watched the reflection of the light off the water dancing on the ceiling. His thoughts drifted along, detached from the softness of the breast in his right or the warmth of the cunt in his left. Nana was right. It didn’t matter if they were married. But she was also right in that Gabriel was family. And part of Aled—the part that had got married in the first place, the part that was excited for Suze, the part that believed there was something in marriage—wanted to cement it.

  He rocked his hips. He was hard from the lazy playing, and he pushed until Gabriel turned over and sank down onto him. Aled leaned forward to kiss the ring, then sucked it into his mouth and held it between his teeth as Gabriel moved.

  There could be another.

  Perhaps there should be.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aled’s birthday was on the fourth of January and Gabriel usually celebrated it on the fifth, with a suitably hungover Aled who probably hadn’t got laid the night before. It was a bit of a tradition. Aled’s old friends and Gabriel’s alcohol problem weren’t exactly compatible. It was their workaround. And a very nice one, usually.

  So he was more than a little surprised to leave work on the fourth and find Aled waiting in the car.

  “No pub crawl with Tom and Suze?” he asked once he’d hooked the bike up to the back and slid into the passenger seat.

  “Next weekend,” Aled said. “Fancied spending the big day with you instead.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep.”

  “With me, or in me?”

  “You say that like they’re mutually exclusive,” Aled drawled as he peeled out of the carpark and Gabriel grinned.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Home and a shower for you first,” Aled said pointedly.

  “Hey!”

  “Then I was thinking dinner somewhere nice and a walk home if it’s not too cold?”

  Gabriel shivered. He knew what that meant. A nice dinner and a fuck in the dark recesses of some park on the way back. Probably Thornes Park. Under the trees, in the absolute blackness, where it would be cold and dirty and even if they could hear him scream, nobody would come to help him.

  “Sounds good.”

  Aled never bothered to take the day off work for his birthday and badmouthed his boss the whole way home. He followed Gabriel into the bathroom to watch him shower, but Gabriel was just treated to a hug in a bath sheet and a kiss. The nearest thing to an appearance their sex life made was that Aled had laid out clothes for Gabriel to wear, which was usually not part of their lifestyle. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at them. No bra, no binder, no briefs—and a plug sitting proudly atop that godawful chastity belt. Gabriel curled his lip. He hated chastity belts. But then he sighed and decided to roll with it just this once. Birthday treats and all that.

  “Are we walking to the pub, then?” he asked as he squirmed into the very tight T-shirt.

  “We’ll get a taxi,” Aled said. He looped both arms around Gabriel’s hips and slid his hands into his back pockets. Gabriel rose up on his toes for a short kiss that turned out to be somewhat longer. By the time it broke, Gabriel was tempted to hang the whole idea of dinner and skip straight to the dirty fuck.

  “Do we have to eat?”

  Aled chuckled and patted his backside. “Yes. Now come on. Lucy at work was recommending this great new Italian place in town.”

  “Why the date?” Gabriel asked suspiciously.

  “Maybe I wanted to appreciate you for my birthday.”

  “Maybe you’re up to something.”

  Aled smirked but didn’t rise to the bait.

  It was freezing out, and Gabriel wasn’t allowed anything but his thin leather jacket—and he wasn’t allowed to zip it up, either. Walking up into the town centre had never felt so far. Everyone else was smarter than them—the streets were near-deserted, the shops shut and even the busiest bars had their clientele huddled inside rather than smoking in packs on the side of the road like usual. Town was emptier than Christmas morning.

  “Where’s this Italian pla
ce, then?” Gabriel asked as they headed for the cut-through by the cathedral.

  “Near the police station.”

  Gabriel frowned. “Then why did we come this—hey!”

  The brickwork slammed into his back. Aled’s eyes glittered in the dark. The alley was short. Not ten metres away lay the open street. The shadow of the cathedral plunged them into darkness from the other side of the brick arch.

  Gabriel’s heart raced.

  It was like how they’d first met. Messages on Grindr and a brutal shag between a couple of dumpsters on the way back to Gabriel’s place. He’d been wet within seconds then, too. And the hard, predatory look on Aled’s face in the gloom wasn’t helping matters.

  Aled leaned in and whispered a single word.

  “Quiet.”

  The button and zip on Gabriel’s jeans parted like butter under a knife. His knees did too. The scrape of denim on his legs sent prickles of lust back up them. The rough edge of brick on his bare arse was even better. The slide of the key into the belt made Gabriel bite his lip, imagining it as a hollow echo of the slide of Aled’s dick into him in just a few short moments.

  But it didn’t work out like that.

  Instead, Aled followed the jeans down. In the cold damp of a Yorkshire alleyway, his mouth was the searing heat of paradise. He blew first—quite literally. Just blew a gentle, warm breeze down the length of Gabriel’s swollen cock, against the closed lips, into the creases of thighs and the crooked twists of hair. Two kisses were offered to Gabriel’s hip bones, then lips touched his own and gently but persistently parted them. A burning tongue caressed the underside of his cock, almost like it could be pulled free of its surroundings and exposed. Gabriel tilted his hips to help, only for hands to grip him tight and hold him still.

  “Please—”

  “Quiet.”

  He held his tongue as Aled let his own loose. Stroking. Smoothing. Almost soothing but for the intense heat. One moment a tiny point touching the very tip of him, and the next surrounding him entirely. He tightened his grip on the plug as Aled’s work—and Gabriel’s want—made it harder and harder to hold on to. It failed when Aled sealed his lips around Gabriel’s cock and sucked so hard that the world wobbled out of view.

  The chuckle nearly shattered him, then wet silicone was pressed into the palm of his hand.

  “Hold on to that.”

  “O-okay—fuuu—”

  Hands grabbed his knees when they buckled. Blindly chasing the high, Gabriel shoved a hand up his shirt and began to play with his nipple ring. He felt hollow. Everything was speeding up. Aled’s sucking. His hand on Gabriel’s knee. The other—the other—

  Gabriel came with a ragged gasp as two wide fingers were shoved into him, plunging until a palm grazed the root of his cock. He slid down into it as the climax smashed through him and came back to himself with most of a hand inside him, his jeans tangled around his shins, and a chuckling mouth sucking kisses into one exposed boob.

  “Stayed quiet,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “You did. Well done.”

  The hand withdrew. Cool silicone replaced it, then the belt was locked back into place. Gabriel tasted his own sweetness on Aled’s fingers when he was made to suck them clean.

  “That’s why we came the long way around,” Aled murmured, and dragged Gabriel to his feet. His jeans were ripped up and buttoned. His T-shirt was pulled back into place. “Now we’re going to dinner, and you can return the favour.”

  “W-what?”

  “At dinner,” Aled said. “They’ve got long tablecloths.”

  Gabriel’s jaw sagged. Aled wanted a birthday blow job in the middle of a busy restaurant?

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. But if you’d rather not—” Aled’s hand trailed to Gabriel’s arse and tugged it, and him, away from the brick. “Then there’s always the men’s toilets.”

  He squeezed one cheek. Pleasure crackled outwards like fire. Gabriel thought furiously as he was kissed. Suck Aled off under a table in a busy restaurant, or get bent over a sink—likely in the same restaurant—and dry-fucked without making a sound. One was tricky. The other was downright impossible.

  And neither were what Aled was really up to.

  Gabriel knew a distraction when he saw it—and he wanted to see it to the end.

  “Fair’s fair,” he said, and crossed his fingers for luck.

  * * * *

  Gabriel had a mouth full of hard, leaking cock when the shoes approached the table.

  “Would you like to see the dessert menu, sir?”

  The restaurant had been busy all evening, but Aled had booked a secluded booth at the back. The booth was high and only the waiters bothered about looking at anybody else. It had been easy to pick a moment just after the main course was finished to slide beneath the table unseen—but delivering a blow job in total silence was proving more challenging than Gabriel had expected.

  And sucking Aled off mere feet from other oblivious diners much hotter than Gabriel had expected.

  “My partner’s just nipped to the toilets,” Aled said smoothly above him. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll come back.”

  “Thank you.”

  The hint spurred Gabriel to action. He’d tried to return the favour properly and take his time, but Aled was already hard as iron in his mouth. Breathing in deeply through his nose, Gabriel opted for the brutal but always effective approach, and readied himself to choke on cock for most certainly not the first time in his life.

  At least this time, Aled wasn’t going to thrust into it.

  But being forced down onto dick, and forcing himself down onto dick, were markedly different things. It was a stop-start of relaxing his throat, moving half an inch and gagging. Then starting all over again. By the time the head was driven down past his throat and finally choked him, Gabriel could feel the sweat on the back of his neck. He wanted Aled to push him the rest of the way. He wanted someone to make him do it and make it all easier. He wanted to be forced.

  Said a lot, really.

  He didn’t have the luxury of time now. He’d reel when he pulled off. Loudly. He had to finish things, or they’d both get caught—and Gabriel didn’t fancy getting arrested for gross indecency. Blinking back panic and forcing away the dark spots in the corners of his vision, he slowly tensed his throat once more and hummed.

  And the trick worked.

  Of course it worked. And it worked too well. Without a single sound or movement above him, Aled reached his limit. His cock jumped like a live wire and Gabriel silently retched as the tiny sliver of air he had was drowned in cum. His eyes watered. He pulled back and grimaced as he was struck full in face with his own work.

  But silently.

  Quiet.

  Slowly, he tucked the spent cock away and cleaned his face with a corner of tablecloth. With Aled giving no signal, he had to trust to luck to slide back up into his seat—and he was lucky.

  Ish.

  Aled tapped the corner of his mouth and Gabriel wiped away the last traces of cum just in time before the waiter bustled back out of the kitchen, saw him and flapped a menu in their direction.

  “Dessert, sirs?”

  “I’m full, I think,” Gabriel said.

  “Well, I’ve got a little bit more room,” Aled said with a smirk. “It’ll have to be the fudge cake for me. With extra whipped cream.”

  Gabriel flushed hotly, but waited until the waiter had vanished again before leaning across the table.

  “So are you going to tell me what that was about?”

  Aled raised his eyebrows.

  “You skipped your birthday binge-drinking for a blow job?”

  “I skipped it for you,” Aled said simply.

  “Yeah. Why.”

  Aled laughed. “Maybe I wanted to spend time with the most important person in my life.”

  Gabriel squinted suspiciously. “Are you trying to talk me into knives again?”


  The laugh softened. Aled slid sideways around the booth to kiss his cheek then slid back.

  “I wanted to spend my evening with you,” he said again. “The sex is just a nice side effect.”

  Gabriel narrowed his eyes one last time. That wasn’t what was going on. Or if it was, it wasn’t the whole story.

  “Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Happy birthday,” he groused, “and I’m never doing that again.”

  Aled simply held up the key to the belt and admired it in the light.

  “Bastard,” Gabriel hissed.

  “Yes,” Aled said, “but I’m the bastard who owns you.”

  Gabriel instantly felt unpleasantly warm, and distinctly wet. He swallowed back the insult he wanted to throw Aled’s way. He was wet and hollow and seriously turned on—but he wanted another side street, not another sadism session.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Aled’s smirk widened into a full beam of obnoxious arrogance.

  “So mind your manners.”

  Gabriel swallowed. The bitter aftertaste on his tongue slid away down his throat to join the rest of it. The belt pinched and Gabriel wanted out of it. Preferably in the men’s toilets, bent over a sink, staring himself in the flushed face as Aled fucked him raw from behind.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Life—slightly older life, but much the same life—rolled on.

  Grimly.

  His birthday was followed by a deluge that made the Book of Noah look significantly more realistic, in Aled’s view. Suze’s wedding plans took her off down to Cornwall almost every weekend, but the constant rain and occasional apocalyptic hailstorm left him without much to do in her absence except work, fuck, sleep, repeat. To top it off, the weather had Gabriel moody. If work didn’t knacker Aled completely for the weekends, then Gabriel’s antsy mood certainly had him fucked out by Friday nights.

  But he couldn’t help but feel like things were changing anyway.

  Like the day he got formally invited to his best friend’s wedding, put his house up for sale and was confronted by the evidence—yet again—that Gabriel was always changing while Aled never quite managed to stay the same.