Change of Address

by Jordan S. Brock

  Toes curled, Josh did as Michael wanted. His efforts to keep it slow and gentle faltered under Michael’s quiet demands, the way his fingers dug into Josh’s shoulders, the press of his thighs against Josh’s ribs. The sight of him beneath Josh, eyes closed, lips parted, was captivating.

  Weeks of nothing more than sweet kisses left Josh defenseless against the thrill of being inside Michael’s body. There was no way he was going to last, but he also wasn’t going to be selfish about this. He shifted to brace himself on his left arm and reached between their bodies, but Michael caught his wrist.

  “Later—after,” Michael said between breaths. “Want to feel you first.”

  What? Didn’t he want them to come together? Josh looked into his eyes, but he seemed sincere.

  “Okay.” Josh nodded, taking a hitched breath, and started moving again, this time chasing his own pleasure—not that it was an effort. Heat coiled low in his gut, driving him to move faster, harder, until he was gasping, eyes closed with the effort of drawing this out for a few more precious seconds.

  “Come on, baby. Come on,” Michael urged, lifting his head to press kisses against Josh’s mouth and jaw. He stretched to reach Josh’s neck and bit, and the sharp sting of his teeth and tight heat of his body were too much.

  Between one breath and the next, the world fell away in a wash of blinding white, silent except for the thunder of Josh’s own pulse. He soared, unable to remember ever feeling this good, this right. The aftershocks of pleasure left him gasping, trembling with the effort to keep from collapsing on Michael.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” Michael was saying, rubbing his hands up and down Josh’s body in slow, sweeping strokes. “So perfect. You okay? Was it all right?”

  Josh’s first attempt at answering came out as a soft hum. He blinked a few times and tried to focus. Michael’s eyes were dark, pupils consuming the rich brown, and Josh remembered that they weren’t finished.

  He pulled out without losing the condom and slid it off, sitting unsteadily back on his knees, scanning the loft for a trash can. Kaylee was watching them, and Josh quickly looked away from her. He didn’t need a dog judging his performance.

  “Under the nightstand,” Michael said helpfully, pointing to where Josh had found the condoms and lube.

  Josh threw out the condom and asked, “How do you want . . .?”

  Michael shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s you.” He ran a hand down his own body, taking hold of his cock, which was thick but only half-hard.

  Right. Josh crawled up Michael’s body, pausing long enough to swipe another condom off the floor. He was less distracted this time and ripped open the packet before getting caught up in Michael’s kiss.

  When Michael was good and hard, cock pressed against Josh’s belly, leaving sticky drops between their bodies, Josh broke the kiss. “Then I can suck you off?” he asked, and Michael’s eyes went wide.

  “Yes. If you want . . . Yes.”

  Josh smiled at Michael’s heartfelt response. He was so sincere, so concerned with what Josh wanted, even though Josh had already finished. “Yeah. I want.”

  Pleasantly sore and still buzzing, Michael staggered to the dresser he’d filled haphazardly when he moved his belongings from the main house to the barn. He’d never been much of a pack rat, but he’d squirreled away a few shirts that might fit Josh. Once upon a time, Michael had actually been in pretty good shape, with decently broad shoulders.

  “Nice view,” Josh said from where he was still sprawled on the bed, his voice a soft, sated purr.

  Michael’s answering smile was more than a little goofy, but Josh deserved it. Most of Michael’s DC experiences had been blowjobs up against a wall or on a bathroom counter. He’d become something of an expert, and Josh had blown away all of Michael’s hookups.

  Blown away, Michael thought, snickering, as he started digging through a drawer full of soft, well-worn T-shirts.

  “What’s so funny?” Josh asked.

  “Nothing. I’m—” Michael stopped, realizing at that moment what was missing. He dropped the shirts and turned back.

  Josh’s smile melted into a worried frown when he met Michael’s eyes. He sat up so fast he kicked a pillow into the nightstand, almost toppling the lamp, sending shadows dancing across the wall. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Michael repeated. He abandoned the dresser and went back to the bed, staring at Josh in wonder. They’d known each other for only a few weeks. Before tonight, they’d never done anything more intimate than kissing.

  And now, he couldn’t imagine not having Josh at his side.

  Josh moved closer, and they met in the middle of the bed, where Michael wrapped a hand around Josh’s nape to pull him into a kiss. Josh sighed, shoulders relaxing, and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

  When Michael backed off, Josh asked, “Does that mean everything’s okay?”

  “More than okay.” Michael looked into Josh’s eyes and cupped his cheek, and a twinge of nervousness silenced him. What if Josh was still treating this relationship as casual? What if this was just postsex euphoria and not real?

  Bemused, Josh tipped his head and dropped a quick, playful kiss on the tip of Michael’s nose. “Good. You, uh, forgot the shirt, though.”

  Michael nodded, thinking Josh was beautiful as he was, naked on the bed they’d be sharing tonight, but Michael had picked up on how self-conscious Josh was about his body. “Just for a minute. I, uh, have something important to tell you.”

  “Is this something important we should’ve discussed before, or—”

  “No.” Michael shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m healthy. I had about a million blood tests in DC, the last ones right before I left. Besides, we took precautions.”

  Josh gave a wry smile. “Sorry. I trust you,” he said, staring down at himself. “Too many safe-sex lectures from my interfering relatives who want to see me safely monogamous and married. Oy.” He rolled his eyes.

  Michael couldn’t help but laugh, despite how his heart skipped at Josh’s words. Someday, maybe?

  “Well, uh . . . would they settle for hearing that I think I love you?” he asked, taking Josh’s hand.

  “Probably, but not for very—” Josh stopped. Looked up at Michael. “You what?”

  Shit! Michael tried for a casual smile and said, “I don’t— You shouldn’t—”

  “Me?” Josh slowly smiled. “You do?”

  Michael swallowed, trying not to read too much into Josh’s expression. Trapped by his own admission, he could only nod. “Yeah.”

  “God . . .” Still smiling, Josh freed his hands to touch Michael’s face. “Me too.”

  Yes!

  Josh blinked, then shook his head. “I mean—you. When I said, ‘me too,’ I meant you, not me.” He was blushing now, avoiding Michael’s eyes until he looked up again and said, softly, “I love you.”

  They sat there, staring at each other with what Michael was sure were equally ridiculous smiles. Someone had to say something, but Michael was just too happy for words. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. Two years ago—six months ago—he would’ve bet his trust fund that he’d never be this happy. And he owed it all to Josh.

  “Hey,” Josh finally said, giving Michael a nudge.

  Michael shook his head. “Yeah?”

  “Get me a shirt, babe.”

  Michael laughed and kissed Josh’s cheek, then got up. The loft rocked and swam around him, but his legs were braced against the mattress. He closed his eyes, riding out the momentary dizziness, until he felt Josh touch his arm. The touch was grounding, steadying, helping the world settle into place once more.

  “You okay?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah.” Michael nodded, quietly amazed at how wonderful this man was. And how lucky he himself was to have found him. “I’m just fine.”

  The window was glowing with bright morning light when Michael woke to Kaylee’s cold, wet nose prodding
at his face—behavior he’d trained so she could prevent him from rotting away in bed during a bad bout of depression a few months back, unnecessary as it was now. He rolled over and changed that thought to especially now, because there was Josh, sprawled facedown beside him, softly snoring.

  I love you, Michael thought, though he didn’t say it. He wanted to give Josh a kiss, but he didn’t want to wake him up. Instead, he kissed his own fingertip and touched it lightly to Josh’s cheek, then turned the other way to deal with Kaylee.

  Her good-morning lick was insistent, and Michael picked up his phone to check the time as he slid out from under the quilt. Eight thirty? Wow. Then again, he probably shouldn’t be surprised. He and Josh had done their best to exhaust each other last night.

  He bent down to get the sweats he’d intended on wearing to sleep, until he got a better idea of Josh’s stamina. Grinning at the memory, he stood, waiting for his balance to stabilize before he quietly dressed and headed downstairs to the bathroom.

  The front door was new, so he didn’t have to worry about squeaky hinges when he opened it to let Kaylee out. While she did her business, he left the door cracked and went to get the empty pizza box from the kitchen. The leftover two and a half slices were wrapped in the fridge. He was tempted to grab the half slice for breakfast, but that would ruin Josh’s plans for brunch.

  Instead, he gathered up the kitchen and bathroom trash and headed out, enjoying the feel of the grass under his bare feet. The sun was warm, the ocean breeze was cool, the water was a glorious steel blue, and everything about the world was perfect this morning.

  When he tossed the trash into the garbage can in the garage, Kaylee bounded over to investigate. He ruffled her fur, asking, “What do you think? Want to keep Josh?”

  Her tail wagged so hard, her whole body vibrated. She bounced, dropping her chest to the ground, butt in the air. Feeling better than he had in weeks, he leaned down to boop her nose with one finger, saying, “Tag!”

  She took off running, and he gave chase, slipping and skidding on the dew that hadn’t yet burned off. They ran back and forth across the yard, all the way to the rocky beach, stopping only at the sound of applause.

  Michael turned and saw Josh standing in the doorway, wearing jeans and Michael’s old service squadron T-shirt, and his heart leaped. “Come on, Kaylee!” he called, jogging back to the barn, where he pulled Josh into an exuberant embrace.

  Laughing, Josh hugged him back and kissed him, tasting of toothpaste. “Morning, sunshine,” he said dryly, though he was still grinning. “You have way too much energy without coffee.”

  Michael couldn’t resist ruffling his hands through Josh’s bedhead curls. “I blame waking up next to you.”

  “Oh my God. Sentiment before coffee?” Josh gave him a playful shove, then headed back inside.

  Michael followed, beckoning for Kaylee. “Hint taken,” he said, catching Josh’s hand so they could walk to the kitchen together. “I’ll make the coffee. Is it too early for brunch?”

  “It’s too early for anything, but . . .” Josh stopped abruptly and turned, wrapping his arms around Michael’s waist. “I slept really, really well last night. So we’ll overlook the not-sleeping-in part.”

  “Me too.” Michael hugged Josh against his chest and closed his eyes. “No nightmares at all. I blame you.”

  Josh kissed Michael’s cheek. “I’ll take that blame.”

  “I really don’t mind helping with dishes,” Josh said, slouching comfortably back in his chair. He had a great view into the kitchen, where Michael was standing at the sink. His sweats were loose, hanging deliciously low on his hips, and his T-shirt was short enough to reveal a strip of skin every time he moved. Damn, Josh had gotten lucky.

  “You’re a guest,” Michael said for the third or fourth time. “Besides, you cooked breakfast.”

  “Early brunch,” Josh corrected, taking the phone out of his jeans pocket. He needed to do something with his hands, or he’d insist on drying the dishes and putting them away. “Breakfast is what you do when you have to be awake before noon. Brunch is what civilized people do on days off.”

  “Aren’t I dropping you off at work later today?”

  Josh snorted. “Half days off,” he said, raising his eyebrows when he saw that he had social media notifications. Bagel End and Hartsbridge weren’t exactly topics of interest to the public at large, but apparently the library had found someone who was media savvy to publicize the fund-raiser. Interesting.

  “You do get actual days off, though. Right?” Michael asked hopefully.

  “That’s the problem with owning your own business,” Josh admitted. There were a couple of requests for volunteers and links to donation pages, but someone had taken a surprising number of pictures. He started to scroll through them, absently saying, “Hell, we promoted Dee months before we were able to let her open and close without freaking out. It’s like . . . your kid’s first day of kindergarten or something.”

  “I understand. I’m not pushing or anything. Just, you know, planning.” Michael turned to get the cooled pans off the stove and smiled. “Anything interesting going on in the world?”

  “A recap of the fund-raiser yesterday.” Josh laughed. “It’s not like Hartsbridge Island is a big news capital. When the diner added their expansion, it was front-page news.”

  Michael’s sigh sounded happy and content. “That’s why I came back here. For exactly that reason. I got so sick of the bullshit in DC.”

  Josh nodded, trying to stay casual as he asked, “Because of your father?”

  Michael glanced over at him, smile fading. “Yeah.” He stacked the pans in the sink, frowning. “It’s, uh . . . Both sides of the family have members in politics, and the ones who aren’t politicians are lawyers.”

  Hoping to get that smile back, Josh asked, “Is that better or worse?”

  “You know . . . that’s a damned good question,” Michael admitted, one corner of his mouth quirking up. Close enough.

  “What about your sister?” Josh asked, scrolling back through the pictures. Had he spotted Kaylee? Yes! Someone had taken a zoomed close-up of her sitting next to Michael at the table. Cute dog plus Michael’s cuter ass. Josh saved that one to his phone.

  “Amanda? She’s . . .” Michael shook his head as he started scrubbing the frying pan. “She’s always had a plan. I mean, she was intimidating, even as a child. She had her whole life mapped out. What she’d study, what sports she’d play, where she’d go to college, all of it.”

  Josh glanced up in surprise. “That’s kind of terrifying.”

  “You’re telling me? I mean, I spent most of my time in boarding school trying to figure out if I was really gay and how not to get my ass kicked for it, and when she was sixteen—sixteen!—she sat down with our parents’ financial advisor so she could be ‘mentally prepared’ for when she turned twenty-five and came into her trust fund.”

  “Okay, correction. Not kind of terrifying.” Josh gave an exaggerated shudder and looked back down at the phone. “She’s going to give me the ‘hurt my brother and they’ll never find your body’ speech if I ever meet her, isn’t she?”

  “Oh, absolutely not.” Michael’s snicker sounded just a little bit evil, and Josh eyed him suspiciously. With an innocent smile, Michael said, “She’ll pay someone with a bag of unmarked bills and have them do it instead.”

  “Right. Putting body armor on the shopping list.” Josh snorted at Michael’s laugh and kept swiping through pictures. Something caught his eye, and he swiped back one picture—and stared. Someone had caught a shot of him and Michael kissing by the water fountain. Josh’s head was tilted away from the camera, but the shot had perfectly captured Michael’s profile. There wasn’t an inch of space between their bodies, and they looked . . . they looked perfect together, like they were meant to be in each other’s arms.

  Save. Josh had just gotten himself a new background.

  “Josh?”

  “Huh?” Josh glanced
up from his phone. “Sorry, what?”

  “I said, you don’t have to worry, for now. She’s going on some sort of world tour. It probably has something to do with her charity work.”

  Trust funds and world tours. Josh exhaled, trying to push away the inadequacy creeping through the back of his mind. Rich tourists and poor townies didn’t mix, but Michael wasn’t a rich tourist, and while Josh might be a townie, he wasn’t that poor. He and his dad got by, the business was in the black, and . . . and Michael had said “I love you” first.

  “Hey.” He locked his phone, then smiled down at the lock screen. There they were, kissing. “Come here.”

  Michael turned off the water and ripped a paper towel off the roll. Drying his hands, he walked over to the table, asking, “What’s up?”

  Josh put the phone down, spun it around, and pushed it over to Michael. “Like my new background?”

  Michael picked up the phone—and then smiled, his whole face lighting up. “Where— Josh, where did you get this?” he asked, delighted.

  “A few people were taking pictures at the fund-raiser yesterday. Want me to send you a copy?”

  “Yes.” Michael’s eyes lit up, and he sat down, handing the phone back to Josh. “Hey, send one to my sister too.”

  Josh held up a hand. “Only if you can guarantee my safety.”

  “I thought you’re a crack shot with a bagel.”

  “For an amateur. If your sister’s going to hire a hit man, I’m hiding behind Kaylee.” He unlocked the phone and opened a new email, then attached the photo. “Here. Put in your email addresses,” he said, sliding the phone back across the table.

  Michael picked up the phone and started typing. “We’ve still got a couple of hours until I have to take you to work.”

  Josh grinned. “If you suggest anything that doesn’t involve going back to bed with you, the answer’s no.”

  Laughing, Michael said, “I was thinking bed first, then shower? It’s big enough for both of us.”

  An invitation to play with Michael, with both of them naked except for soap bubbles and steam? Oh my God, yes. Josh had died and gone to heaven.