by Clancy Nacht
“So close,” Sloan rasped, his balls already tight and drawn up, his body all but vibrating with tension. “Gonna come inside you, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up, mark you inside too, make you mine. You’re mine, Upton. Gonna—”
With a bitten off curse, Sloan sank under the waves of ecstasy, losing control in the most amazing way. He gasped for breath against Upton’s lips as he came, shuddering and jerking, pumping into him instinctively.
Upton whimpered into the kiss, shivering delightfully under Sloan, just as thrilled by the connection as Sloan was. He kissed and moaned, then squeezed tightly around Sloan, as if he wanted every drop deep inside.
His fingers had curled against Sloan’s abdomen, gripping him as if he couldn’t help himself, demanding as much touch as he could get.
Sweat—or were those tears?—ran down Upton’s face, warm and salty on Sloan’s lips as he gasped for air between kisses. Dear god. Finishing inside Upton, feeling the bare skin-on-skin, the heat and wetness between them, it was so different. It seemed to mean so much more.
Sloan wrapped his arms around Upton, hugging him tight before sliding a hand down to grip Upton’s cock, feeling the damp fabric underneath him. This was Sloan’s. All his.
“You gonna come for me?” Sloan tightened his grasp and rolled them over, mindful of Upton’s bindings as he landed on his own back with Upton on top. He didn’t pull out, staying deep inside him as he rocked his hips, grinding up into Upton’s ass and pulling his cock. “You wanna come for me, honey? You’re so good. My good boy. You deserve this, don’t you? C’mon. I got you.”
“Yes.” Upton rocked between Sloan’s grip and his cock, pumping freely, hands pressed to Sloan’s abdomen. His head was tipped back on Sloan’s shoulder as he gasped for breath. He was rock hard and trembling, focused on coming. “Yes, yes. Going to come... “
He had to work for it. He’d felt so close to coming against the bed that Sloan wondered if he’d been waiting for permission. Upton whimpered and then let out a long groan. His release soaked Sloan’s fingers and sprayed over Upton’s chest.
Sloan milked him, possessive of this Upton, the real one Sloan woke up to and went to bed with, this vulnerable, sweet one, not the snarky, serious-faced man who showed up on MSNBC in guest segments. This was just for Sloan.
Upton relaxed and exhaled slowly, then turned his head for another kiss. Sloan met Upton’s lips with a growing sense of well-being. How lucky was he that this was his life? He’d lost everything, but he’d gained so much.
At least, for a few years.
Sloan pushed away the thought of the expiration date on their marriage. It was a long way away, and who knew? By then maybe they’d have grown apart, established separate lives, gotten bored with each other.
Sighing into the kiss, Sloan arched closer and then reached down to unbind Upton’s wrists. He rolled them again, pulling out of Upton, and slipped down to free his ankles as well. He left the blindfold in place as he returned to those lips, claiming them again and exploring Upton’s mouth tenderly like he might uncover the secret to all his mysteries there.
Upton enfolded Sloan in his arms and squeezed him tightly. He kissed as if his life depended on it, sucking Sloan’s tongue, then his bottom lip. He stroked Sloan’s back, then squeezed his ass, tangling their legs together, apparently as swept away in the moment as Sloan was.
“My husband,” he whispered against Sloan’s lips, claiming and possessive as Sloan felt.
Allowing himself to belong to just one person felt strange, but knowing that Upton belonged to him as well… After spending years belonging only to himself—renting out his time, his body, but not his heart—Sloan struggled to let go of that reflexive need to hold back. Staying separate had meant staying sane. This...
Well, this felt like madness.
What could Sloan do? He wanted this. It might be a descent into crazy, but it felt better than anything else ever had.
“And mine,” Sloan answered belatedly, wonderingly. He pulled the silk from Upton’s eyes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Look at me.”
Upton opened his eyes, those bright blue, now piercing eyes settled on Sloan. Those pillowy lips, still bright pink, curled up as Upton stroked Sloan’s hair. “I can still feel you inside of me. Your come is…” Upton blushed; he looked so coy and boyish, but he kept his gaze locked with Sloan’s.
He traced Sloan’s cheek, his gaze softening, sweet, adoring. It was almost too much.
“What?” Sloan smiled a little at a time, trying to hold back but helpless to keep it from spreading across his face. “Tell me. Use your big boy words.” Sloan reached for the blanket he’d set aside for afterward and covered Upton in it, snuggling in against him beneath it. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Upton blushed as he traced Sloan’s lips, eyes fixed on them. “It’s dripping out of me. I haven’t… felt that before. It’s… It makes this all feel so real. I am yours, Sloan. I… I like saying that. I hope you like that… I mean, I know that… “
His eyes went glassy, and Upton averted his gaze. “I really like you, Sloan. I always did, but I like you more. This week has been really, really good.”
“I like you too, Upton.” Sloan leaned in to nuzzle Upton’s throat and bit down gently, leaving a tiny mark to match all the others. He hid his face there, seizing the reprieve while his feelings surged and morphed, growing ever more powerful and confusing.
Then he pulled away and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “You think we can...hold onto this back in D.C.? I’d...” Sloan tensed saying it, nervous putting it out there.
“I’d like to.” Upton rolled on top of Sloan. As he gazed down into Sloan’s eyes, the light behind him turned his golden hair into a halo. “Obviously I’m not quite as available, but I’m usually home every night. We can have dates and… you know…”
Upton blushed again and kissed the corner of Sloan’s lips. “I’d like that very much.”
“Yeah? You wanna date me?”
They’d gone on plenty of arranged dates as part of the whole charade, but going on dates without press coverage... That felt like something completely different.
Sloan wrapped his arms around Upton and smiled, feeling shy. Had he ever been on real dates? Just a handful, never like this. Never where the person knew his life this way, where they might have something genuine forming. There just hadn’t been time. He hadn’t had the privilege.
Now…
“Yes, I do. Is that scary?” Upton pressed kisses softly over Sloan’s face, tender and sweet. “We’ve done this whole relationship backwards, so I suppose we should date now that we’re married. We can go to movies and I can take you to a chain restaurant and grope you in the car if we want to go for the full teen experience.”
“Shit.” Sloan laughed and hid his face again, ducking away from Upton’s kisses to press against his shoulder. “That’s...”
He pulled back to look into Upton’s eyes despite how overwhelmed and vulnerable he felt. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Chapter 12
Upton flew through his work, rushed his phone calls to constituents. Since he’d gotten back from his weeklong trip to paradise, it was as if all the forces had allied to keep Upton from getting out of the office before nine or ten at night so that he could take his husband on a real date.
Not just the timing, because Upton could certainly take Sloan to a late show and hit up a diner and get all the groping done they wanted to after. The problem was how exhausted Upton was by the end of torturous twelve to sixteen-hour days.
This was Upton’s bad precedent, he knew. Not having much of a social life to speak of before, he hadn’t realized how early five p.m. would feel. Going home while there was still daylight felt like he was cheating. So maybe he’d just read one more report, make one more call, leave at six. Then it was seven, eight, or nine.
Sloan had been wonderful about it, though. Sometimes he even visited the office, which caused no small amo
unt of scandal among colleagues, but Upton couldn’t make himself care about that. He was proud of his beautiful husband, proud to snuggle with him at night, excited by the sex that they had, thrilled with finding photos of them online from events they’d attended together.
Upton’s plus one now had a name; he was a person. And sometimes, in those photos, Upton thought he saw not just friendship, but glimpses of real love.
Photos from their wedding, printouts of their Instagram images lined his desk. Just seeing those doe eyes in a photo made his heart flutter and he’d check the time. Could he go home yet? Could he phone Sloan and ask him to come visit?
Upton had found Sloan a great internship that kept him busy, so it wasn’t as if Sloan was sitting around waiting for Upton to come home, but Upton still longed for a real date, so they’d chosen a day and cleared their schedules at a reasonable hour. It was a Friday night. They would be going out with teenagers and everyone, but that made it fun. It didn’t seem like either of them ever got to have that. He’d talked about it so much to his staff that they were probably sick of hearing about it.
He’d even told Mom about it with so much passion that she thought he was trying to get her to send paparazzi to cover it. That was the opposite of what he wanted. Upton just wanted to go to a crappy chain restaurant, wait the hour to get in, eat food that probably came out of a can, and then go to the cinema to watch whatever movie wasn’t sold out.
At four-thirty, Upton wound down his work and right at five, he packed up his briefcase with papers he probably wouldn’t look at until Sunday morning after brunch. Brunch! He had scheduled a real brunch with Keith and a guy he was seeing. He was really getting into this couple thing.
Sloan’s car was already there when Upton pulled into the driveway. Just seeing the back of his coupe—knowing Sloan was home and this was happening—made Upton giddy. Beaming, he slipped from his Tesla and practically ran up the stairs to the condo and let himself in.
“Honey, I’m home. I hope you’ve taken your Lactaid because we’re going somewhere cheesy!”
Sloan burst out laughing and met Upton at the front door. He was already dressed up, his hair falling in perfect waves around his face and his work clothes swapped for tight jeans and a V-neck that looked almost painted on.
“I can hardly wait. I laid out clothes for you to wear.” Sloan raised his eyebrows and smirked, Upton’s first warning that he’d be blushing soon. “If I can keep my hands off you tonight, then this has all gone terribly wrong.”
Upton bit his lip in excitement. He liked when Sloan dressed him. Instead of seeming infantilizing, wearing what Sloan had picked out felt like an all-day hug.
Also, he got compliments. Upton hadn’t thought he was unfashionable before, but he supposed he didn’t pay that much attention to how well things fit or whether colors he liked actually looked good on him. He had staff to dress him for TV appearances, and the rest of the time he just winged it.
Upton kissed Sloan and then slipped by him to drop his briefcase and then head upstairs to their bedroom. There, on their new king-sized bed, Upton saw clothes wasn’t sure he would be able to squeeze into. “Is this a breathing optional date?”
“I’ve seen you suck cock, honey. Don’t think you can trick me into believing you need to breathe.” Sloan less smirked than smoldered at Upton, those dark eyes heated in a way Upton felt in his gut. “But I’ll help you shimmy into that if you need an extra hand.”
Sloan ran his fingers down Upton’s spine to palm his ass and squeeze. Then he leaned in and nibbled just below Upton’s ear. The roughening of his breathing was enough to make Upton want to fast-forward to the end of this date.
Stepping away, Sloan gestured at the skintight faded jeans and sky blue, body-hugging Under Armour shirt he’d laid out for him. “Your public image isn’t getting any gayer, right? Might as well enjoy peak queer.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Well, I’ll enjoy it, anyway.”
“I think my peak queerness has finally bored the paps off the case.”
Sloan made a better picture and story. The gold digging angle of the story had been more difficult to shake than Upton had hoped, but he’d known his enemies were going to tag Sloan with something. There was always that final smear that would stick and be the lingering impression.
Upton didn’t mind being painted a fool who fell for it, but he knew it nagged at Sloan. So, Upton had kept up at working out as best he could, watched what he ate, and tried to be the kind of man who could get a husband like Sloan. The outfit Upton had thought would be way too small actually fit well.
Sloan had more fans than haters, though, and a couple of weirdo internet stalkers who didn’t seem to know whether they wanted to fuck him or kill him. Security was on it. None if it appeared to be a credible threat, so Upton put it out of his mind.
He examined his budding six pack in the mirror, the way the shirt clung to his stomach. It wasn’t as defined as Sloan’s, but if Upton got serious about cutting the carbs and spent less time at his desk, he had potential.
Upton pressed his hand over his belly and turned to Sloan. “All that work and now we’re heading to Carb Palace.” Upton’s nickname for the popular pasta chain they’d decided to go to. “Guess I can get the all you can eat salad? Cheap date.”
“Oh, c’mon, sweetheart, you gotta cheat tonight.” Sloan took Upton by the shoulders, spun him around, and stepped in close behind him. He wrapped his arms around Upton’s middle, palms pressed to his belly, and swayed with him, slow dancing to no music at all as he kissed the side of Upton’s throat. “You’re perfect, just like this. We’ll share a giant bowl of pasta and shrimp in lemon butter and then split a tiramisu, and we’ll feed each other bites obnoxiously, and the whole time, I want you to remember this.”
Sloan rubbed his half-hard cock against Upton’s ass and nipped his neck, hands tightening on Upton’s stomach and drawing up his shirt to touch bare skin. He rubbed his lips against Upton’s ear and whispered, “I want you, just as you are. Enjoy life with me, all right? Don’t deny yourself what you really want, not ever. Maybe sometimes, if you follow that advice, you’ll end up accidentally married, but it’s not all bad, right?”
“Oh yes, like I tripped and got married. Oops.” Upton rubbed his ass back against Sloan. “It’s been an excellent trip. All right. Carbs for my hubby. If I must.”
Upton played at being upset, but he missed carbs and he loved Sloan holding him, so this was going to be the perfect night. “If we get going now, maybe we can get the senior discount.”
His eyes sparkled as he pulled Sloan along with him out to his car. It was a little early for dinner, but there was probably already a wait. “The things I do for tiramisu.”
Upton belted into his car and drove to the local Carb Palace where the lot was nearly full, and people loitered outside the restaurant holding plastic coasters that buzzed and lit up when their table was ready.
For a moment, Upton was struck by a slightly familiar face, someone he thought he’d seen here and there around the capitol. He went to wave, but the person ducked out of sight and Upton figured it was an aide who worked for one of his opponents. Upton wasn’t sure; he met so many people. Usually he was pretty good with faces, but this one he couldn’t quite place.
He shrugged it off as he parked, and he and Sloan headed up to the host to give his name for two.
A few people around them blinked and gave them a second look, but no one was so gauche as to ask for a selfie. That was pretty rare for Upton, usually he had to be at a Pride event for anyone to notice him that way. Eating out in DC, there were plenty of politicians to go around.
“Want to get a glass of wine at the bar?”
“Yeah.” Sloan slipped his arm possessively around Upton’s waist, as if he was showing off for the people looking. As if he was proud to be with Upton. It was so different from their last date before the wedding, when Sloan had been friendly and touched him with a certain decorum. This didn’t feel fake.
This was a real date.
They settled in at the bar, and Sloan rested his hand at the small of Upton’s back, as if he didn’t want to lose that connection. Sloan didn’t usually drink wine, but he ordered a glass of chianti, seeming to get into the roles they were playing for the night. He rubbed little circles into Upton’s back through that tight shirt, his fingers occasionally slipping obscenely low for a second before coming back up. He didn’t say anything, but he kept gazing at Upton.
Though Upton didn’t usually drink either, he went for a glass of merlot, beaming with excitement at being out. They said to fake it until he made it…. What if they’d made it? What if Sloan got that same flutter in his belly that Upton got?
Just the idea was dizzying, and the merlot didn’t help. He’d only had a few sips of the wine when the coaster buzzed and shimmered at them. Moments later, they were led into a sea of white-clothed tables. The scene was set to look quaintly of Italy, but having just been married there, it looked to Upton like a Disneyesque reflection of the stately reality.
All around them were families with kids along with nervous teenagers Upton could relate to. Young people who were attempting to navigate new or established relationships. All fresh-faced and primped, but without the aid of wine to calm their nerves.
Sloan seated Upton, which made him blush and chuckle as he gamely perched on his chair. They were handed menus, but Sloan had already made his wants clear, so Upton ordered accordingly but added calamari as an opener and reached across the table for Sloan’s hand.
“So, how are you enjoying your work? I know it’s wrapping up since school is starting.”
“I love it.” Sloan smiled and squeezed Upton’s hand. He was using that sultry voice he sometimes did, the one he broke out during sex that made Upton’s toes curl. Having him use it in public was simultaneously awkward and thrilling. “It’s a great internship, and everyone’s good to me. I can’t thank you enough for helping arrange it. I know my credentials are good for it, but...”