The French Lesson

by Robyn Elliot

Stef held Danny’s hips, as Danny moaned through every tongue stroke, the suction building to a crescendo of writhing ecstasy, leaving Danny helpless and at Stef’s mercy.

  “I…want…I-I want you…” Danny panted, twining his fingers in Stef’s hair, looking down at the magnificent sight, that blew (no pun intended) the greatest masterpieces he’d ever gazed at, right out of the stratosphere. Because this was the real masterpiece, right in front of Danny, with Stef’s hungry and urgent mouth engulfing him.

  Stef’s wound began to protest, but adrenaline and sex were the only things Stef was after right now. That, and hearing Danny moaning and gasping Stef’s name, that lovely voice low, humming with the newfound delight and joy of pleasure in all its tender, sweet and dirty forms.

  Stef pulled off him for a moment, looked up at Danny’s flushed, sweat tinged face. God, the guy was beautiful, Stef was thinking, and if I don’t come from looking at him then I will be amazed. Danny opened his glazed eyes, stared at Stef, lips moving, not a word being framed.

  “What do you want, Danny? Anything you want, and I’ll do it,” Stef breathed, taking the opportunity to start stroking his own straining cock. Danny gently moved Stef’s hand away and began slow, slick strokes, making Stef swear in a torrent of French.

  “Stef?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When you’re out of here...”

  “Yeh?”

  “Oh, God!”

  “Danny, what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to suck me, in the shower, then…then…”

  Stef groaned, as Danny picked up his pace on his cock. Hell, for a geeky guy, he sure learned bloody quick. But then he did have an expert to teach him.

  “Then?” and with that, Stef plunged onto Danny’s cock again, sucking him all the way in, making Danny jolt and convulse against him.

  “I want you to lick me everywhere, with the water streaming onto our skin, Stef, and then, oh God, Stef, I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll need to sleep for a month once you’ve taken me!”

  That was it. Oh, yes, that was it! Danny felt the room swirl, blackness consume, and his orgasm shuddered through him like he was caught in some shattering sexual vortex. The vortex was Stef’s mouth, and the sensation of him swallowing every spurt Danny gave him was enough to make Danny need that month’s rest right now.

  Stef pulled back a little, he wanted Danny like he’d wanted no one in his life but still didn’t relish choking; he did relish the taste of Danny though, sweet and urgent and Stef couldn’t get enough. He moaned on Danny’s throbbing cock, felt the warmth of Danny’s orgasm flood down his throat, he heard Danny’s desperate cries of release.

  Danny resumed his stroking on Stef’s cock, momentarily interrupted by an orgasm lashing into him like a force ten gale; Stef guided him, wrapped his hand over Danny’s, and in a rush of wet kisses and tongue searching, Stef tore his mouth from Danny's, as gut wrenching convulsions made his cock spurt with an enthusiasm signaling his own recent sexual frustration.

  Stef fell back against the pillows, wincing as his wound threw up another protest at his thrashing about after abdominal surgery. Danny supported himself on his arms, still panting, giving Stef glances to see if his Frenchman hadn’t just expired there. No, Stef was still with him.

  Fuck, I love you Stef, Danny thought...you’ve brought me back to life, Stephane Clermont.

  Danny managed to attain vertical status again and shook his head, pleasure still sending little shivering sensations up his spine, making him slightly dizzy. Slowly returning to the room, he went and fetched paper towels, dampened some, started cleaning up Stef, very gently dabbing and wiping his skin.

  Stef opened his eyes, gazed into pale blue ones.

  “So glad we decided to go at your pace, Danny.”

  For a moment they just stared at each other, then burst out laughing. “Pervert.”

  “Kiss me; I can taste you still.”

  Danny leaned over and kissed Stef, letting his tongue swirl around Stef’s.

  They cleaned up, and the sharp rap on the door, followed by a listening pause, then another sharp rap, brought Danny bolt upright on the bed. Stef grinned, watching as Danny got up and turned the lock. Immediately, the door opened, and an irritated nurse stepped in, looking from Stef to Danny and back again.

  “Is it convenient to do your obs now, Stephane?”

  Danny blushed furiously, but Stef just shrugged and smiled lazily at the nurse.

  “Of course it is,” he said smoothly.

  “Oh,” she remarked, “we didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

  Danny wanted the earth to shift on its axis, muck around with a few tectonic plates, and consume him in lava for a century.

  “You weren’t…we were just talking,” Danny murmured, knowing how lame that sounded, and his voice died away, seeing Stef shaking with pent up humor. Danny shook his head slightly, frowning at him.

  “I see. Well, perhaps you both might want to leave that kind of talking till Stephane is discharged...if that’s okay?” and with that, the nurse took Stef’s blood pressure with a vaguely put upon stoicism.

  It seemed an age before she went. “Hmm, slightly elevated,” she’d noted, giving Danny then Stef a knowing look, “but then, that’s talking for you.”

  Once she’d gone, deliberately and pointedly leaving the door ajar, Danny sat back down on the side of the bed.

  “You’re shameless,” Danny whispered, as Stef brushed his fingers over his cheekbones.

  “Says the guy who nearly choked me with his cock ten minutes ago.” Danny cringed, tried to turn his face away, but Stef’s fingers held him in place. “There’s a lot to be said for talking.”

  Danny raised his brows. “Hmm?”

  “What Florence Nightingale said there, about talking…”

  “Ye-e-s,” Danny started, warily, wondering where this new mischief was heading.

  “You were talking to me in the ambulance, weren’t you? That helped me, baby, helped me more than you can know.”

  Danny’s heart started up a staccato rhythm, and he fought the tightness forming in his throat.

  “I’m glad, Stef.”

  “Danny?”

  Danny waited, looking into steel blue eyes he wished he could submerge in.

  “Yes?”

  “Me, too, Danny…me too.”

  Chapter Six

  “I want to give you the blowjob of blowjobs tonight, Danny,” Stef offered romantically.

  “Stephane, down boy.” Danny swatted Stef’s arm, as the Frenchman leaned into him, nuzzling his ear, breathing filthy promises there.

  Danny’s eyes quickly flitted to the open door of the living room. The sounds of voices, easily audible from the kitchen, alarmed him just as much as his boyfriend’s obsession with wanting to touch him, kiss him, tease him, at every available moment.

  Stef saw the nervous glance. “Is that code for no, then?” he laughed, kissing Danny’s cheek.

  Danny turned back to Stef, trying to suppress a smile. “What?”

  “When you call me Stephane. Usually translated as ‘no, you can’t put your hand down my pants.”

  Danny leaned in, pressed his brow to Stef’s. He was still amazing himself. How far he’d travelled. Together, really.

  There hadn’t been any more messing around since hospital-gate. The nursing staff made sure Stef’s door was kept open, much to Danny’s cringing awareness and embarrassment. Danny was grateful – almost – for the remaining week and a half that Stef was in hospital, for Elisabeth, Guillaume and Annelise to visit as regularly as he did. They didn’t realize, of course, that they’d just assumed the roles of Victorian chaperones. That was Stef’s description, when Danny told him they wouldn’t be messing around whilst Stef was in a hospital bed.

  “Does that suggest, Mr. Hastings, that once I am out of this hospital bed, we can mess around on a twenty-four-hour basis? You know how important my rehab is.”

  “You’re sex obsessed,” Danny
muttered to him now, even as he allowed Stef to kiss him softly on the tip of his nose, before tracing his tongue over Danny’s lips. Danny shivered, and uncrossed his legs, trying to move further away on the sofa but his body didn't seem to notice, as his erection was straining against the zip of his jeans.

  “Danny obsessed,” Stef corrected, grinning lazily, “Danny’s eyes and cheekbones obsessed, Danny’s…”

  “I am getting a clear picture,” Danny said, rolling his eyes, nudging Stef gently. Stef instantly winced, and Danny was contrite, sitting up on the edge of the sofa, his hands fluttering over Stef with concern. “My God, Stef, are you okay?”

  Stef leaned into the soft cushions with a dramatic flourish, his eyes closed, wincing. “I think…I think…” he grimaced again.

  Danny leaned closer. “Yes?”

  Stef opened one eye. “I think you need to answer my question, gorgeous.”

  Danny raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You’ll rupture your sutures.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but as you are discovering, I’m one hell of a quick healer.”

  Yes, thought Danny, I am discovering. So much about you, my Stephane Clermont. I’m discovering that you are sexy beyond my wildest dreams, the way you look at me, the things you say. Yes, definitely the things you say…oh, and the way you look at me. Both. I’m hooked, I’m besotted. I'm lost.

  My God, Stef, I love you. So, so much.

  He’d said it aloud, just yesterday, in fact. Stef had stepped into the living room of Guillaume and Annelise's flat, freshly showered, still a little pale, unsteady, but he’d taken Danny’s breath away all the same. That’s when Danny had said it, unable to stop himself from resisting the tide of emotion that kept welling up within him every time he looked at Stef. Not responding with words, Stef had simply sat on this same sofa with Danny, and had held his hand.

  When Elisabeth and Annelise had come in with a tray of coffee and cakes, Danny had tried to unlink his fingers from Stef's, but Stef had firmly tightened them instead, making his possession clear to the women.

  Later, after Elisabeth and Annelise had left them, but not before several meaningful and pointed looks at the boys holding hands, and Annelise sighing dreamily if slightly vacantly, according to Stef later, Stef had turned to Danny, and brushed his lips over Danny’s neck. “I love you too,” he’d said.

  Danny had froze. But, conversely, there were no pyrotechnics. No exploding, shattering, cock convulsing euphoria. Instead, a steady, cold douche of disbelief. And fear. Danny had wondered if he was dreaming, or trapped in some kind of parallel universe where guys like Stef, guys with the looks that made Zeus have self-esteem issues, really did fall in love with young men who couldn’t breathe properly sometimes from panic attacks, who couldn’t stop washing their hands until the skin was as red as sin, and shook every time they had to face other people.

  “Do you mean it?” Danny had said. He had cursed himself inwardly, hearing to his mind the slight stammer there, and also more than a pinch of neediness. Not that he needed Stef, Danny realized.

  He just didn’t want to breathe without Stef, that was all.

  Stef had raised his dark brows in slight puzzlement. He’d stroked the wavy hair from Danny's brow.

  “I really want to show you how much, Englishman; I wished you were in that shower with me, coming so beautifully in my mouth…”

  “God, Stef!” Danny had almost sobbed.

  Stef had smiled, pressing his lips against the side of Danny’s head. “Yes, crazy guy, I love you; now, your question should have been what are we going to do about it?”

  What indeed.

  Love declared, and so quickly! From cafe latte to full on I love you, that was a hell of a leap for Danny – take that, Apollo 11.

  An even bigger leap for Stef.

  Stef had only been out of hospital a few days, but he knew that sometime between hearing Danny weeping in the ambulance to waking up to see medics looming over him, discussing his impending operation, Stef had fallen deeply in love. If Stef had been the kind of person to over analyze life – he wasn’t, that was Danny’s job – he’d have guessed the exact, the precise, the indisputable moment when lust and desire transformed into the most perfect, and the most tender love.

  The first person he’d thought of, lying in the hospital? Danny. The last person on his mind before drifting to sleep? Danny. The person he was thinking of every time he stroked his cock. Danny. You can see the pattern forming, here.

  Only, yes, it was indeed Danny. Nervous, pale, slender, unconventionally beautiful Danny. Vulnerable Danny.

  Stef was still wondering about that. Or, rather, the unpredictability of the chubby kid’s arrow and its weird trajectory. He had surmised over the years that love was something he didn’t feel, not for the guys he slept with; even Antoine, despite that they’d been together for three years, not once did Stef feel anything close to how he felt about Danny. There'd been the fleeting drift of time, a few days, no more, and Stef had succumbed. Years in the waiting, and here the one was, a mad scientist in his arms, and exchanging teasingly languid kisses.

  “So?” Stef whispered to Danny now, watching as Danny’s head kept jerking in the direction of the voices from the kitchen. “Never mind them, Danny,” he chided gently, holding Danny’s hand, “you’re my boyfriend and we are allowed to hold hands, unless that became illegal while I was in hospital.”

  “Holding hands is okay,” Danny replied, not even trusting himself to look fully into Stef’s eyes – too mesmerizing at this point, seeing as Danny was weakening under Stef’s intense charm – “it’s the other stuff that’s the problem.”

  “Problem? Oh.” Stef glanced down at his own groin and then to Danny’s similar zip straining situation. “You mean…you want me to stop telling you how much I want to touch you. You want me to stop telling you, Danny, that I’m going to make love with you, slow and gentle just like the doctor advised; suck you and taste you,” Stef pressed his mouth over Danny’s cheekbone, “your come in my mouth, after I’ve sucked you until you’re begging me to tongue fuck you until you’re screaming…”

  “Right, that’s it, Stephane!” Danny jumped up, leaving Stef lying against the cushions, laughing, then grimacing with pain as he adjusted his loose fitting trousers. “Yes, serves you right, you incorrigible frog,” Danny added, compressing his lips, trying not to laugh too.

  Elisabeth put her head around the door, making Danny start. He liked Stef’s mother, but he also felt a little intimidated by her; not least because of the strong physical resemblance between mother and son. Indeed, all of Stef’s nearest and dearest, meaning the forceful Guillaume, intimidated him. Especially when the two brothers bickered in rapid French at each other, Danny stuck between them, dry mouthed, feeling awkward, his eyes moving from Guillaume to Stef and back again, until Stef remembered he had a boyfriend who was English and whose only French consisted of ‘two glasses of red wine please’ and ‘can you please tell me where there is a public convenience?’. According to Stef, anyway.

  “Darlings, would you like something to eat? Stef, do you feel up to going to a restaurant, or we could order something delicious from that lovely deli?”

  “Maman, you have a son who runs a restaurant, let’s just go there?”

  Elisabeth shrugged, ignoring her son, her clear blue eyes moving to Danny. “Danny, will you be staying tonight?”

  Danny stared at her, his mouth going dry. Staying? Where? On the sofa? There were only three bedrooms, so that meant…

  “Of course he is,” Stef made the decision for him, and Danny heard himself agreeing.

  “Thank you, Elisabeth; if that’s all right with Guillaume and Annelise, of course. It is their home.”

  Elisabeth wrinkled her nose in mock pique. “I see what you mean, Stephane; he is so remarkably polite, and well,” she glanced at Stef, then back at Danny, “as wonderful as you said he was.”

  With that, she left them to it, and she and Annelise started t
o make arrangements for taxis, what to wear, the menu etc, leaving Danny staring hotly at a smug boyfriend.

  He still was getting used to that. Boyfriend. From an arid diet of porn and unwilling celibacy to a boyfriend like Stephane Clermont. That seismic leaping business.

  “You are so beautiful,” Stef said, seeing Danny’s consternation.

  “Where will I sleep?” Danny asked, a tinge of hopelessness in his voice.

  “I was hoping, with me.”

  Seeing Danny’s nervousness start to affect him, the way his breathing was becoming a little raspy in his throat, the way his eyes seemed to shine like he was coming down with a fever, made Stef want to reach out and soothe him.

  “Hey, come and sit down again.” Stef opened his arms, and Danny came to him, leaning gingerly against Stef’s chest.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I darling?” Danny asked. Stef loved that sweet, so English endearment, that he’d adopted it himself. Along with angel, sweetheart and babe; oh, and other, dirtier, hotter things, whispered into Danny’s ear after long kissing sessions.

  “Never,” Stef murmured, smiling warmly at him.

  Danny’s heart did that lurching thing again. Only the thumping and kabooming was Stef powered and supercharged with love.

  Danny’s phone rang, and he carefully extricated himself from Stef’s arms. Stef, instinctively vigilant now to Danny’s shifting moods and vulnerability – he still couldn’t get out of his head seeing Danny sliding down the wall in the law courts, laughing and weeping hysterically at the same time – watched his supremely sensitive boyfriend now. Danny frowned as he looked at the name coming up on his phone, the flickering light, the vibrating hum in the palm of his hand, all cognizant of the hurricane that was Hugo de Colonna.

  The Colon, an appendage of the very devil.

  “Give me a second, Stef,” and Danny whipped off the sofa, stepped into the hallway. Annelise came drifting back into the living room, glancing as she passed Danny, who was pacing up and down, his voice low, a suppressed energy to the way he was holding his entire body. Like Stef, who had filled her in on Danny’s current psychological state, knowing she’d be supportive, she could quickly tell how Danny was feeling, no matter how much front he put up.