by Lisa Worrall
Micah smiled at the sight of Harry in exactly the same position he'd left him, on his side, mop of dark hair in disarray, his sweat-dampened fringe sticking to his forehead. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened, but Micah knew he wasn't asleep. Harry had his thinking face on, a face Micah was only too familiar with.
Without a word, Micah gently rid Harry of the rapidly drying semen on his belly and the sheet beside him. He towelled both Harry and the damp spot as dry as he could before dropping the items onto his pile of discarded clothes. Satisfied with his handiwork, he climbed back into bed and pulled the duvet over them both. Micah slipped contentedly into his big spoon position and wrapped his arm around Harry's chest, burying his nose in Harry's hair. "I can hear the cogs from here, Boyd." He felt rather than heard Harry's sigh as his chest expanded beneath Micah's hand.
Harry rolled until they were facing each other and snuggled back into Micah's arms. "That was…," he trailed off as he searched for the words he needed. "Fucking amazing."
Micah smiled his agreement and leaned into Harry's touch as he cupped Micah's cheek, gently stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. "Yes, it bloody was. But if there's a but coming, I might have to kick yours."
"There's no but," Harry sniggered, kissing Micah hard and fast. "It's just gonna take a while for it to sink in."
"What?"
"That I'm here." Harry brushed Micah's hair from his forehead. "I shouldn't have let him come between us, I should have been stronger."
"Shut up," Micah countered, his heart aching at the unshed tears thickening Harry's words. "Are you kidding me? As far as I'm concerned, you're the strongest man I've ever met." He hoped Harry was listening, because he meant every word. "You protected her the only way you could, even sacrificed your own dreams to keep her safe. I'm not gonna lie, being rejected by you nearly destroyed me—" Harry closed his eyes and Micah shook his head, smoothing his thumbs over Harry's eyelids. "No, I'm not finished, look at me." After a few moments coaxing, Harry followed his instructions and Micah held his gaze steadily. "Although losing you was the hardest thing I've ever had to go through, at the risk of sounding like I have Oprah re-runs on Sky Plus, never loving you at all would have been worse. I'm not saying you won't have to look over your shoulder because I will make you pay at some point, but you are here, with me, and if you try to walk away again, I will scatter your body parts all over the village."
"Duly noted," Harry grinned, kiss-biting along Micah's jaw. "Although, FYI, I couldn't walk right now if I wanted to."
Micah would have snapped back with a well-timed quip, but he was too busy trying to remember how to breathe as Harry teased his nipple with his tongue. He whimpered as Harry nipped at the hardened nub, sending sparks of pleasure straight to his cock. He loved that invisible cord connecting all his erogenous zones, the one that sent messages to the others whenever one was stimulated. Harry kissed a trail down his torso and Micah's breath caught in his throat. Sure, he had all the what would be considered normal every day erogenous zones, but only Harry knew the spot that drove him wild.
When Harry dipped his tongue into Micah's belly button, he curled his fingers into the sheet beneath him, hanging on for dear life as Harry teased, nipped, sucked and licked. Feeling like a junkie strung out on his favourite brand of crack, Micah writhed helplessly under Harry's ministrations. He hoped he wasn't going to be quizzed afterwards because he couldn't have put together a coherent sentence if a million quid was on the table. All he could do was hold on and hope he didn't lose his wad before those sinful lips and wicked tongue reached his cock, which cried out for the same lavish attention.
Grabbing hold of a handful of Harry's hair, he tugged impatiently, not enough to hurt, but enough to urge Harry back up his body. When Harry's confused gaze met his, Micah pushed Harry onto his back and then quickly straddled his head, rising high on his knees as he bent to take Harry's cock between his lips. Harry soon caught on, Micah was ecstatic to note, because his own cock was suddenly surrounded by the heat of Harry's mouth. He moaned around Harry's shaft, lapping at the pre-cum pooling at the slit, swirling his tongue around the glans while Harry sucked him deep, his long fingers kneading the globes of Micah’s arse.
The instantaneous heat that always sprang up between them had never failed to stun Micah, and it didn't now. They were in perfect time with each other, rhythmically synced, giving as much pleasure as they received, rushing towards release together. Micah's thighs began to tremble with the effort to not ram himself down Harry's throat, letting those teasing fingers guide his hips, controlling his thrusts. At the same time he tried to concentrate on taking as much of Harry into his mouth as he could, relaxing his muscles and swallowing him down to the root.
God, he was close, so close, and he knew from the way Harry's fingers stuttered across his skin that he was on the verge of losing control. Two more thrusts and Micah exploded, having warned Harry with a couple of slaps to his thigh to give the man time to move—not that he would. Harry returned the favour moments later, but Micah didn't move either as Harry's orgasm spurted from him, hot and sweet in sharp bursts, coating Micah's tongue and warming his throat as he swallowed every drop.
Micah let Harry's softening cock slip from his mouth, wiped a hand over his lips and collapsed, right side up, beside Harry, the intensity of his orgasm still twitching through his muscles. "Fucking hell," he panted, grabbing his three quarters full water bottle from the bedside table. He chugged half of its contents, then passed the rest to Harry.
"I hope so," gasped Harry, emptying the bottle and dropping it to the floor beside the bed. "I can't play the harp."
"Dickhead."
"Knob."
Micah stretched languidly, never having felt as sated as he did right now. Sex with a young Harry had been amazing, but this was something else. With six years worth of experience under his belt, Harry Boyd the bloody fourth was something else. His gut clenched uncomfortably at the thought of other men being in Harry's bed, but let's face it, he hadn't exactly been a monk.
"Five," Harry said still staring up at the ceiling as his breathing calmed.
"Five what?" Micah asked, turning his head on the pillow to gaze at his profile.
"Since you," Harry returned his stare.
"God, your ego," Micah scoffed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Are you telling me that's not what you were thinking?"
"Shut up." Micah nudged Harry in the side with his elbow, unable to prevent his stupid lips from flapping as he added, "Anyone serious?"
"Not really," Harry said softly. "I mostly dated girls."
"You slept with girls?" Micah was incredulous.
"No! I dated girls, numbnuts." It was Micah's turn to receive a well-aimed elbow in his ribs. "Did you think my father made me give you up then gave me his blessing to sleep with any other man I wanted? Any hook-ups were arranged with military precision. I did see one guy for a while last year but it didn't work out."
"That's a shame," Micah replied, turning on his side and leaning up on his hand as he studied Harry's expression, searching for signs of regret.
"Yeah," Harry raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I can see you're really broken up about it." He paused and tilted his head in question. "What about you?"
"Pretty much the same," Micah countered, flopping back down onto the pillow. "Except the girl part. I dated a colleague at the birthing centre, which seemed like a good idea at the time. We were together for almost a year and I thought it was going well, but he had other ideas. Said he couldn't compete with a ghost." He glanced at Harry and rolled his eyes at the huge grin pasted on Harry's face. "Just shut up."
"Make me."
Micah gazed up at Harry wide-eyed as he was pinned beneath the weight of his hard body. "Again? My God, you're insatiable."
"When it comes to you—always."
Chapter 5
The sound of laughter nudged its way through the warm blanket of sleep Micah was wrapped in. He r
ecognised Harry's infectious bark and smiled as the ecstasy of last night came flooding back. Yawning, he turned over and burrowed back under the duvet, giving a passing thought as to who Harry was laughing at. His question was answered when he heard a sound similar to that of one of the three witches from MacBeth as they stirred their cauldron. Go back to sleep, his inner Micah soothed, he's just chewing the fat with your mother. Micah sighed contentedly and wrapped himself tighter in his warm cocoon. He'd just have five more minutes, he was sure his mother could keep Harry entertained. His mother?
Realisation hit Micah three point two seconds later and he sat bolt upright in bed, trying to throw off the duvet and find his clothes all at the same time. Harry was alone with his mother. There was not a moment to lose before all his secrets came out, including how long it had taken him to be dry at night, the teddy he still kept on the shelf in his bedroom to keep the monsters away, and that he could probably be persuaded to bottom for the right guy.
Micah grabbed a pair of sweats from his drawer and yanked them on, then took out the first T-shirt his fingers touched and pulled it over his head. Raking his fingers through his hair as he gathered himself, he tried to trot down the stairs nonchalantly instead of leaping from top to bottom like he wanted to.
The underfloor heating he'd paid an arm and a leg for last year meant the oak boards in the hallway warmed the soles of his bare feet. As he padded into the kitchen and experienced the same warmth from under quarry tiles, he once again gave himself a mental pat on the back for ignoring Jenny. If he remembered correctly, when he'd had it fitted, she'd said she'd rather strap hot water bottles to her feet than spend good money on something so ridiculous. Although, shockingly enough, he seemed to recall her spending more time in his house last winter than her own.
"Mornin', sweetheart," Jenny chirruped from where she was cooking bacon on the hob, while Harry buttered a mound of bread on the kitchen table. Micah took in the domestic scene and crossed the room to kiss Jenny's cheek.
"How did you get in? I didn't hear you knock," Micah said brightly, albeit through gritted teeth.
"Harry let me in, dear," Jenny smiled, returning her attention to her task.
"Of course he did," Micah drawled, shooting a glare at Harry, "silly me." He had to confess, he adored his mother but sometimes she was a royal pain in the backside. A boundary-less royal pain in the backside. He walked over to the kitchen's other occupant and accepted the kiss he was offered, and stealing another before he sat down. "How's your arse?" he asked, picking up Harry's coffee and taking a mouthful.
"Micah!" Harry practically choked on his name, nodding his head at Jenny's back.
"I think he's referring to my probing, Harry, not his," Jenny said without turning around as she cracked an egg into the pan.
"I see your subtlety classes are paying off, Mum," Micha sniggered, loving the aghast expression on Harry's face. "Don't worry," he said, reaching out to pat Harry's hand. "You'll get used to it, only takes about," he paused and turned to his mother, "how old am I again?"
"Michael, you're not as funny as you think you are, honey."
"Michael?" Harry quizzed, his gaze flitting between mother and son.
"You mean she hasn't managed to regale with you that little gem already?" Micah shook his head slowly in disbelief. "You're slipping, Mother."
"I'll get to it in my own good time," Jenny replied, not missing a beat. "Now go and get one of the garden chairs and brush it down, Selena is joining us for breakfast."
"She is?" Micah glared at Harry, who was wearing the same smug smile Micah had a few moments ago. "What are you grinning at?"
"It's your turn to be probed."
"I think your mum's probing is going to be less embarrassing than mine," Micah returned and headed to the back door to do as he was told. By the time he'd returned to the kitchen, Selena was seated in Harry's chair and Harry was laying the table as per Jenny's instructions. He met Selena's serene blue gaze and smiled tentatively, not so sure what her reaction to Harry and him being together would be.
"Don't worry, Micah, honey," Selena said with a beatific smile. "I'm the one who sent him over here last night. I couldn't stand looking at his lost puppy face one more minute."
"Mum," Harry drew out the word like a disgruntled teenager, much to Micah's amusement.
"Don't deny it, darling," Selena retorted, accepting the mug of coffee Jenny handed her. "Even Mother Teresa would have kicked you out on your ear. You were giving me heartburn."
"I think you'll find that's your inside child's fault, not mine."
"You might be right, there," his mother nodded, sipping at her coffee.
Micah put the garden chair next to his for Harry and sat down next to Selena. "Well that coffee won't help," he said sagely, unable to help putting on his professional hat. He held his hands up at her glare. "Okay, okay, I won't be midwife Micah until Monday when I give you the tour. But we will need to talk about your caffeine consumption when I book you in."
"I haven't said I'll book in yet."
"You will," Micah said with a confident nod, smiling gratefully at Jenny as she gave him a fresh cup of coffee. Curling his fingers around the cup he lifted it to his lips and blew away some steam before sipping carefully at the hot liquid.
"Harry said you were… what was it, darling?"
"Bolshy."
"Ah, yes, that's it, bolshy."
"Yep," Micah agreed readily, "and more besides." His eyes widened at the mountain of food on the plate his mother put in front of him. "Jesus, Mum, why don't you just hit me over the head if you wanna kill me?"
"Nothing wrong with a good hearty breakfast," Jenny retorted, putting a plate of egg, bacon, beans, mushrooms and toast in front of Selena before returning to the counter for her own and Harry's. "As a nurse, surely you know it's the most important meal of the day."
"True. But it's not s'posed to be the only meal of the day."
"Shut ya face and eat," was Jenny's response and from the look she shot him, Micah knew now was definitely the time to do just that.
Harry sat down in the garden chair and picked up his knife and fork. "This looks delicious, Jenny, thank you. I'm afraid my attempts at breakfast usually consist of a bowl of Cheerios and if I'm feeling really adventurous, two Weetabix."
"I'm assuming Harry either explained everything to you, or you interrogated him under the uplighter until he spilled his guts," Micah said to Jenny around a mouthful of bacon.
"And why would you assume that?" Jenny asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Because he still has his knee caps."
"True, there is that, and yes, cleverclogs, he did," Jenny replied. "But he did it last night when I found him waiting on your doorstep and took him in next door for a cup of tea. I knew I had a while before you got back from Sarah's, so I did my interfering mother act before you got home." She waved her fork at him. "Not such a know-it-all now, are we?"
Micah smiled sweetly and kicked Harry in the shin, sending him a glare that telepathically expressed his displeasure at Harry's failure to withstand Jenny's meddling. Pot and kettle don't ya think? Micah kicked his inner voice in the shin for good measure. He turned his attention to Selena when she said his name.
"I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything that happened," Selena said softly. "I knew how much you meant to Harry, and indeed how much Harry meant to you. I never meant for anyone else to get dragged into our mess." Micah's heart melted at the adoration in her eyes for her son as she clasped Harry's fingers in her own. "I wanted Harry to have a chance at a normal life, to do the things everyone else takes for granted. I should have left his father years ago, but when I told Harry about the baby, he gave me the strength to escape. I couldn't bring another child up in that house, with that man. His temperament had changed over the last year, his outbursts were even more violent," she huffed out a joyless laugh. "He wasn't even worried about making sure the bruises didn't show anymore. Why would he when he could keep me a prisoner in
my own home instead? There is no doubt in my mind that it was only a matter of time until he killed me." She wiped at a tear than rolled down her pale cheek. "And after he put Harry in the hosp—"
"Mum," Harry kissed his mother's cheek and nodded at her plate. "It's over, we're safe now, eat your breakfast."
Micah's gaze narrowed as he stared at the top of Harry's head bent over his plate while he cut into his bacon with gusto, and he knew there was something Harry wasn't telling him. Micah wasn't an idiot. But Harry had told him so much, bared his soul to him, what could there possibly be left to tell? Shaking away the thought—for now—Micah reached across Harry and took Selena's hand.
"You have nothing to apologise for," Micah said earnestly. "It must have taken great courage to finally make the break. I can't even imagine what it was like for you, living in that situation day after day. Anything I say sounds like so many pathetic platitudes you've probably heard a million times before, but I can promise you this, you are safe, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay that way. I only wish I'd known six years ago, so I could have helped get you both out of there." He glanced at Harry who was about to interrupt. "I understand why you couldn't tell me, but that doesn't mean I don't wish you had."
Harry put down his fork and took Micah's hand from Selena's. "I can't take back the hurt I caused, but I hope we can create enough new memories to lessen the pain of the past."
Micah stared at Harry, deeply touched and overwhelmed by the honesty, truth and love in his words. For a split second they were the only ones in the room and Micah felt Harry's promise of forever deep in his soul. He lifted Harry's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. "You'd better," he whispered. His smile widened when Harry leaned in and kissed him gently, uncaring of the fact their mothers were watching their every move, and Micah kissed him back.
"That is the most romantic thing I've ever seen!" And the moment was clearly over.