by Willa Okati
Jory wobbled as David slowly drew off him, pulled the condom away, tied it off, and tossed the thing into his trash can. Every movement seemed laced with a drugged stupor. This man, this unbelievable man, belonged to Jory. He could hardly believe it, and he’d just lived through the proof.
David rose to his feet, his expression both proud and bashful. It begged for a kiss, and Jory, shaking his head to clear it first, was glad to oblige, smothering David’s face with the scorching pressing of lips to skin. And condom or not, he’d be damned all over again if he didn’t give his lover something in return to thank him for that blow job of several lifetimes. Not giving David the chance to say no, or to insist on hunting for another condom, he reached between them and got a solid handful of the man’s erection.
God, he loved David’s cock -- long, thick, full, and heavy. Silk over steel. He began to pump his lover hard and fast, holding him up when David buckled and moaned. This time he was the one providing support as David leaned into him, the one rubbing patterns and circles into his lover’s flesh with his free hand, and the one who felt a cock erupting in his fist.
Best of all, when David came, he sank his teeth into the curve of Jory’s neck, right at his hot spot. Didn’t break the skin, of course, but the shock of bliss was enough to give him a second small, dry orgasm.
They stood supporting each other, the steaming water showering down around them slowly turning cold, murmuring words without meaning as they ebbed down from the highest of peaks into a warm valley of afterglow.
When Jory could speak clearly again, he kissed David hard and swore against his mouth, “I’m taking another night off again as soon as I can.”
“You promise?”
“Just watch me.”
“I always do,” David said, blushing. Watching him, Jory thought his heart might start beating again.
David brought him back from the grave. David made him feel alive.
* * * * *
“Oh ... hell.” Jory collapsed onto David’s chest, his spent member still pulsing deep inside his partner’s channel. David, eyes closed, thrilling to the feeling of Jory buried within him, stroked both hands down his lover’s sweat-sheened back and made a low sound of contentment.
“Go ahead and bury me,” he murmured hazily. “Six feet deep, with lilies and chrysanthemums. I’m dead.”
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Jory bobbed up to kiss David all too briefly, then slipped out of his hole and slumped against his chest, ear pressed above David’s heart. “Still beating. You’re alive, me old son. And kicking. God, were you kicking.”
“It’s not much ...” David felt embarrassed, even though it wasn’t the first time Jory had fucked him. He always made such a big deal about the act, wonderful though it was -- as if David were something special and the way he took a cock was worth writing home about. “I just lay here.”
Jory laughed shortly, out of breath. “Like a champ, you lay there. I can still feel your heels digging into my back. Very flexible. Seriously impressive.”
“Sweet talker.” David hesitated, then laid his hand over Jory’s shoulder. He gave the muscle a light squeeze. “You were ... God, there aren’t words. No one’s ever ... not like you.”
Jory raised his head a bit. “David, I’m the one who isn’t world-class,” he said earnestly. “I’m just a guy who happens to love making love.”
“And it shows.”
“Seriously, though. Why don’t you give yourself some credit? It takes more than lying on your back or your belly to be the kind of fantastic bottom that you are.”
David shrugged. “I guess I was trained well.”
“That makes you sound like a dog.”
Dog. David grew still, his fingers coming to a stop on Jory’s skin. “Yeah,” he said through numb lips. “I got the beatings and the treats.”
“The -- you’re serious?” Jory lifted himself onto his elbows, staring David down. “Tommy. Your ex, the one you’ve mentioned. He beat you? Often?”
“Almost killed me.” David shifted. “The lump of scar tissue over my ribs ... that’s from where he kicked my chest when I was down. I told you about the attack ...”
“No.” Jory shook his head. “I mean, I know about the bashing you took, and I swear on all that’s holy and unholy, that for your sake I will kick more than Tommy’s ass if I ever come across him, but he hit you before then?”
David shrugged and remained silent.
Jory swore, low, vicious, and vehemently. David flinched, but the man didn’t seem to notice even as, when Jory’s hands bunched into fists, David found himself beginning to shake.
“He’s dead,” Jory said at last. “I’m going to hunt the fucker down.”
“Jory, don’t.”
“Limb from limb. He’ll pay.”
“Jory, no. Jory -- please!” His lover stopped in mid-tirade and looked down at David, puzzled eyes in an angry visage. David stroked that face and tried to make Jory understand. “I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want Tommy to be mentioned in the bed where we’ve just ... he’s not part of this, what we have between you and me, Jory. You make me feel like a man. He made me feel like an animal.” He bit his lip. “I love you for that, you know.”
“Ah, David.” Jory shut his eyes tightly, then lifted one of David’s hands to his mouth for a kiss. “I won’t mention him again unless you bring up the subject, then. I promise. But listen to me, and you listen good, okay? Don’t you ever let anyone tell you you’re not good enough. David, I’ve been around the block, and you are a jewel among men. You’re the kind of guy everyone hopes they’ll be lucky enough to end up with, male or female. You’re the gold ring on the carousel, and I managed to snag you. I’m grateful for you every second of every day.”
He bestowed a second kiss upon another knuckle, then a third, and a fourth. “And not just when we’re having sex, either. I like you dancing in the kitchen, reading the newspaper on your couch, talking on the phone to those friends of yours, Liam and Christian and Quentin. I love you, too, any way I can get you. And I promise you, that is the truth. Do you believe me?”
David swallowed hard, letting the words wash over him in waves. Safety. Acceptance. Belonging. Home. Jory. “I -- I can try,” he said after a long and pregnant pause. “I’m sorry. This isn’t easy. I wish I could give you more, but ...”
“Beatings and treats,” Jory repeated. He lay back down on David’s chest, running his fingers over the ridged scar. “You don’t ever have to worry about me, David. I’ll never hurt you, not if I can help myself. Not on purpose or even accidentally. Strike me down with lightning if I’m lying.”
David held himself still for a beat, then relaxed with a conscious effort. He stroked the flat of his broad palm over Jory’s soft waves of hair, molding them to the scalp and letting the curls spring back. “I’m trying to believe you,” he said quietly, wondering if Jory would hear him.
Jory did. “Then that’ll have to be enough. For now. And I plan on sticking around to show you each and every time we’re together that this isn’t just about sex. This is love. I cherish you, David, and I’ll let what I feel for you shine through every time we’re in the same place. Even when we’re not.” He nestled his head down. “I’m listening to your heart beat. I love the rhythm. Love you. Believe me, David. Please believe me.”
God help him, he couldn’t not. He closed his eyes and let the afterglow take him away into a world of softly glowing curves and planes, Jory curled up tightly against him.
He didn’t realize when exactly he began to hum an old country love song, but it was the best accompaniment possible for the pair of them as they slipped into a sweet, deep slumber ...
David believed.
Chapter Seven
David examined the slip of glossy paper in his hands for a long minute. He turned it over, glancing at the details of another citrus diet Micah had ordered him to start. Orange juice for breakfast with half a grapefruit. Lemon water for a snack. Hmm.
If that was how Micah had lost weight, Micah could keep the secret all to himself. Three more days on a diet like that and he’d start juicing if anyone hugged him.
Hugs ... mmm, yeah. David knew he had a dopey grin on his face, but he couldn’t help it. Discovering Jory the way he had still amazed him. The guy was everything David had always wanted. Good-natured, always finding the joke in something. Boy-next-door cute. Great in bed. Didn’t know anything about antiques, but you couldn’t have everything -- and he actually wanted David, too.
As a sweet bonus, Jory was a closet cuddler and loved to get cozy after sex. And he was also accepting. David never forgot that for a moment. Jory took him for what he was and actually seemed to like him that way.
Yeah, forget the citrus diet. The last thing he wanted was to get Jory all sticky. David paused, thinking about that for a moment, then started chuckling. Well, he did want to get Jory all messed up, but maybe not with lemon juice. He’d learned the hard way that acidic fluids did not make for happy times in the lands down under.
Amused, David flipped the paper back over to the recipe for spaghetti sauce that had caught his eye. It’d been a great half-day at the Antique Barn, with the afternoon off to do whatever he wanted. He’d be stuck going to that weird gay dance club tonight at nine, Liam’s orders Not To Be Disobeyed, but he could handle it if he had Jory to come home to.
It’d be great if he had something ready for them after he made an early night of it ...
David figured he could either work on the trunk some more, trying some more of the hundreds of keys he’d collected, or he could start on a romantic dinner for two. But pasta? Noodles had the potential to either be a huge mess or a great success.
David hesitated, torn, before the picture of the candlelit table on the bottom of the page decided him. He’d make the sauce, anyway. It’d keep if Jory was busy. Or, if they got busy together. He could only hope.
The one and only problem with dating a night-shift worker was a hell of a big one. They’d barely managed to meet three times in the two weeks since the Fest, all just after sunset, before Jory had to go to work.
Still, all of those times had ended between the sheets. David grinned again. And how they’d ended! He’d even laid in a stock of condoms and lube in his bedside drawer. He’d started keeping fresh daisies on the kitchen table for decoration during postcoital snacks. To his embarrassment, he’d even found himself doodling Jory’s name on a customer’s receipt.
“You’re a moron,” he told himself. “All these hearts and flowers are for kids. And talking to yourself is for crazy people.”
Yeah, but it didn’t stop him from having the time of his life. He reached for his phone, hesitated, then grabbed it up. Jory’s number lay beside it on the table, but he knew the numbers by heart already.
David punched them in, then listened to the trill on the other end as he lowered himself onto his couch.
Three-thirty p.m., so he could expect at least three rings. Jory took his sleep pretty seriously. David guessed all graveyard-shift workers did. Fortunately, he never seemed to mind being woken. In fact, he genuinely appeared to like it when David called.
Once again, David marveled at finding Jory. Sometimes he thought about Liam’s kiss, but he always brushed that aside as coincidence. Liam wasn’t really magic. He’d just had great timing. But then, didn’t he always?
On the other end of the line, David heard a loud fumbling sound, then a clatter. He grinned. Jory must have dropped his cell again. There was muffled cursing, then a deliciously pitiful “Hello?” croaked out.
“Hey, Jory,” David said softly. “Guess who?”
“Ahh.” There was a sound of rumpling and shifting that would be Jory turning over onto his back. He slept naked -- he’d told David as much -- and his sheets would be all tangled around his body.
David imagined Jory running a hand across his chest as he adjusted the cell next to his ear. “If I had to be dragged out of some great erotic dreams, there’s no one else I’d rather have call me.”
“What kind of erotic dreams?” David stretched out, sighing in contentment at the way the couch cradled his long legs. “Did I feature in them?”
“Lead role.” Jory yawned. “Oh, God, sorry. I’m just tired. The yawn is in no way a reflection on your performance. You. Were. Extraordinary.”
“Okay, given the extenuating circumstances, and that it was a yawn and not a burp, I’ll forgive you.”
“Haven’t eaten. There wasn’t time after the shift last night. You know, we caught that college kid trying to sneak back in and donate for the third time this week? He must think we’re either really stupid or totally desperate for O positive.”
“That poor guy. I wonder what his deal is?” David shifted position. Sometimes he wondered if Christian ... but nah. He had more sense than that. David hoped. “It’s not legal to pay for blood donation, is it? That’s a pretty common misconception. Maybe he’s trying to earn a few bucks to eat?”
“Nah, no money. Just juice and cookies afterward. That guy needed them, too. The nurse tried to give him some and send him on his way.”
“Did it work?”
“Nope.” Jory’s voice grew thoughtful. “Whoever Nicky is, he’s proud. Didn’t want to take the free stuff, you know? All he wanted was to ‘earn’ his dinner. We tried to guide him to a teen shelter, but he wouldn’t hear a word about that. He said he doesn’t take charity. You can’t help some people.”
David heard the covers shift again; that would be Jory turning over onto one hip. “Glad you’re letting me in.”
David rested his head on the couch arm and grinned, letting his happiness color his voice. “How could I not? I love the way you ask.” The bold words were still a shock to him; every time he said something he wouldn’t have said before he’d met Jory was a surprise. The words were worth it, though, to earn a chuckle from the man.
If he wasn’t in love already, David knew he was falling fast. Impulsively, he asked, “Hey, do you want to come over?”
“Now?” David could almost see Jory blinking as he tried to focus on his watch. “It’s only three-thirty-five. I still need to sleep.”
“Please?” David moved again, a little uncomfortable. This was the first time he’d really asked something of Jory, and it kind of mattered what he decided. “I’d just like to see you in the light of day for a change.”
“You have no idea how much I want that, too.” Jory fell silent for a moment. “What’s going on?”
David squirmed. “Nothing ... yet.”
“Oh, now that’s nice and vague.” Jory chuckled. “Could something be going on if I came over?”
“Possibly. I was going to make spaghetti. We could try eating it like those two dogs in that cartoon, Lady and the Tramp.”
Jory paused again. His voice was warm when he spoke again, his admiration clear. “You really have come a long way. The David I met at the Fest wouldn’t have thrown innuendoes at me like darts.”
“Am I close to the bullseye?”
“Dead center. I so wish I could be there.”
“Then come. I mean, unless you really do need more sleep.”
“Like I could go back to my naughty dreams when there’s reality in the offering? No way. Let me just look outside and see what the weather’s like, okay?”
David frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Er, the car’s temperamental. She doesn’t like to run when it’s too hot.”
“No problem, then. The weather’s gorgeous. Just around seventy.”
“Gorgeous weather.” Jory didn’t sound happy. “That apartment building of yours still has the covered porch, right?”
“God, it’s not like you have to sneak in. After the first time you were here, people were congratulating me the next day. You’re really loud, you know?”
“And you’re not?” David heard, faintly, the rattle of blinds being raised. “Huh. Looks like a storm might be kicking up.”
“No. No! That’s actually good. I like rain. Especially a good rain where it turns the skies almost dark as night. Clouds hide the sun. That’s a bonus.”
“Jeez, man. You really have to get out in the light some time. I know you’re pale, but I promise you won’t go up in flames.”
“Yeah. See, about that ...” Jory paused. “Never mind. I don’t like it, that’s all. I’m so used to living in the dark that I don’t like being exposed to sunlight.”
“There go my plans of a picnic lunch at a beach.”
“I’m serious, you.” All the same, David could hear Jory chuckling. “All right. It’s clouding up pretty good. I’ll be over there soon.”
“Jory, are you really that bad about daylight?”
“It’s kind of like the boy in the bubble. Except, I’m not so much a boy anymore, and I don’t have a bubble.”
“Are you allergic to the sun?” David grew concerned. Jory didn’t always let him know when something was too much. “I mean, if you really can’t ...”
“Hush up. I’ll be there in just a few.” Jory hesitated. “Hey, David? I love you. Just remember that, okay?”
David pulled back from the phone, startled. Sure, they’d said the words before, but for Jory to repeat them out of the blue ... He couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”
“I said, I love you. Make me say it a third time and I’m going to wear a skirt over there. You emasculate me.”
“Can’t have that.” David cleared his throat. “I think I might love you, too. Should that be dresses for two? I think I can get us a bargain at the plus-size outlet.”
“Hey!”
“No fat jokes, I know.” David brushed his thumb against the handset. “Come on over, Jory. I want to see you.”
“On my way.” There was a click as Jory disconnected. David didn’t mind his not saying goodbye. Just another Jory quirk. The man had a fancy cell, but it looked nearly untouched, as if he barely used it. Just for work, he’d said.