by Sean Michael
"It's blue, like your eyes. The comforter, I mean."
"My assistant picked it out."
"She's got good taste. Do I need to be jealous?"
"Possibly. Marlena has a beautiful brand new grandson. I hear he's the most wonderful thing ever."
Ry had tightened up when he'd first started talking, but then he relaxed and laughed. "Tease."
"I told you, I'm looking for Mr. Right. I want forever." He wanted a partner, a lover, a husband. A life.
"And I'm looking for you. I thought my career meant more than anything, but instead it didn't mean anything without you. I love you, DJ. Forever."
"I hope you're sure."
"I hope you'll believe it one day."
"Me, too." He drew Ryan down into the sheets.
Ryan lay on top of him, pressing him into his comforter and rubbing against him, body hot and solid. It felt like every inch of his skin was being explored, adored. Soft kisses pressed over his lips, then his jaw, Ry making his way down, very slowly. Those hands mapped him, tickling his ribs, circling his nipples, spreading his thighs.
He could feel Ry's prick slowly firm up again, going from half to fully hard and hot as Ry explored him.
"Needy man."
There was no denial; Ry's agreement was immediate. "Fuck, yes."
DJ snorted, reached down, fingers searching Ryan's face. Ryan bit at his fingertips, then soothed them with his tongue.
"You're really here." He'd been dreaming it, but he knew this had to be real. He could see when he dreamed.
"I am." Ry pulled one of his fingers in, the suction going straight to his balls.
"You are..." His ass left the bed. His prick slid along Ry's chest, hit his chin. "Ryan." Oh, fuck. He was close.
"You want me, DJ?" Ry licked the tip of his cock.
"More than I've ever wanted anything."
Ryan kissed his belly. "Where's your stuff?'
"There's slick in the drawer in the headboard. Rubbers are in the bathroom." He hoped.
Ryan gave him a short, hard kiss. "Back in a second."
He pulled the comforter back, the fresh sheets. Were they doing this? Really?
Ryan was there a moment later, stepping up against his back. All he could do was moan, arch into the heat.
"Can't wait to feel you inside me, Danny." Only Ryan had ever called him that. Ever.
"Are you going to ride me?" The idea of burying himself in Ryan's ass made him need to tug his balls.
"You know it. Gonna make you come inside me." Ry pushed him down onto the bed, dropped down next to him.
He settled on his back, thighs spreading, his cock slapping his belly. Ry shifted and the next thing he knew his prick was swallowed up, Ry's head bobbing a couple of times before coming off again with a wet sounding pop.
Then Ry put slick on DJ's fingers. His eyes searched the darkness, the need to see Ryan instinctive.
Ryan straddled his waist and drew his fingers down, placed them against Ry's crack. "Get me ready, Danny. Please."
"No one's called me Danny since you."
"Good. That's ours."
He slid his fingers down, fingertips sliding around that tight hole. "Ours."
"Uh-huh. Come on, I want to feel you." Ry pushed against his fingers.
His fingertips pushed in, spreading, surrounded by heat.
"Oh fuck!" Ry groaned, so tight around his fingers.
"Baby. Baby, you're squeezing me. You're going to be tight around my cock."
Ry's answer was a moan, hands landing on his chest.
His fingers went deep and he curled them in the muscled channel, searching for Ryan's gland.
"Fuck!"
Bingo! DJ kept working it, focusing on nothing but touching and stroking, over and over.
"Oh, God. Oh, fuck." Ry kept vocalizing, moving with him. "Shit, you're going to make me shoot if you're not careful."
"Wait for me. Wait
til I'm in you. I need you." His fucking balls ached, his cock leaking.
Ry rose up, letting his fingers go, and a condom was smoothed down over his cock by Ry's trembling fingers.
"Please, baby." His balls drew up tight, aching.
Ry grabbed hold of his cock again, pressed it against that tight hole. "In me, Danny. In me."
Hands flailing for a moment, DJ searched for a place for them to land, to settle. Grabbing his hands, Ry put one on his hip, the other one on the man's hot prick.
"So hard for me." His hips rolled up.
A low, needy moan sounded, Ryan taking him all in. Oh, fuck. Hot. Tight. For a second DJ couldn't even breathe.
"Danny. Danny. Oh, God. Oh, God." Ryan sounded desperate.
His shoulders left the mattress, bucked up, pushing deep. Crying out, Ryan came down hard on him. Shit, yes. They found a restless, awkward rhythm, the mattress soft underneath him. He jacked that sweet cock, pulling more moans, more shudders out of Ryan.
Bending forward, Ry brought their mouths together, the kiss wet and sloppy and perfect. He worked the tip of Ry's cock, his own need so close to the surface that he couldn't bear it much longer.
Ry pulled up and started bouncing on him, little movements that matched the sounds Ryan made.
"Soon. Soon, baby." He couldn't hold on.
"Yeah. Please. Oh, God." Ryan slammed down on him one more time, and come sprayed out of him.
DJ sobbed, head tossing as he bucked up, drove into Ryan's perfect body. The ripples drew up, all around his cock, pulling his come out of him.
Ryan collapsed down onto him, breath panting over his neck. "Danny. Love. Fuck."
"Uh-huh." Also, wow.
They panted together for awhile, and then Ryan shifted, sliding off him and getting rid of the condom from around his prick.
"I... Have you eaten, baby?"
"Are you hungry?" countered Ryan. "We could order Chinese or Italian or something."
"I'd love that. I have Mama Lu's on speed dial."
"Perfect. I don't care what you order for mains, as long as there's tiramisu for dessert."
"I'll see what Kim says." He sat up, reached for his phone, and pressed one.
* * * *
Something wet was licking his face. Wet and cold-nosed. Ryan groaned and batted at his own face, connecting with a furry muzzle. What the-- Oh. Right. Walter. He was at DJ's. In fact, he was in bed with DJ.
He wrinkled his nose when his lips were licked again. "Go
way, Walter."
"Walter, go outside and do your business." DJ sat up, hair going every which way. "You sleep okay?"
Ry blinked as Walter did as he was told, going out onto the balcony through what turned out was a doggie door.
"Yeah, really good. You?" He slid his hand through DJ's hair.
"You snuggle. It's wonderful."
He chuckled. He hadn't known he was a snuggler. He'd never really had a chance. Even when he and DJ had been together, there'd always been the fear they'd be caught. This was new, being able to linger, touch, not worry. It was...luxurious. It was magical. It was fucking his.
Danny's room was big, open, with lots of wall space for someone with an interest in art, with a collection of weird neon signs. He wondered how DJ might feel about sharing this place with him someday.
He'd been so worried ever since he'd decided to really do this. Talking to the owner, and then his immediate boss, hadn't really alleviated that. Only DJ had. He'd been more worried about Danny rejecting him than coming out, and that was saying something.
"Man, I want to kiss you, but your dog just macked all over me."
DJ snorted, then started laughing, hard. "God, I missed you!"
He popped DJ in the arm and got up. "Back in a minute. I'm gonna steal your toothbrush."
"There should be a stash of travel toiletries in there. Just don't move anything."
"'Kay."
He found the en suite just off the bedroom and found the travel toothbrush. He did his teeth and his business and hightailed it b
ack to his lover. His lover.
DJ was standing at the window, the light not making the man flinch at all. He was going to have to learn all the things DJ needed, how to help, how to make things easier; he could live with that.
He went up to DJ and stood behind him, mouth dropping to the warm neck.
"No regrets?" DJ leaned into him, rested hard.
"Yeah, I've got one." He felt DJ stiffen, but refused to let go of the man. "I should have done this sooner."
DJ's fingers twined with his, holding on.
"Sorry it took so long. I can be a bit...uh, stubborn."
His Danny snorted. "No... You?"
"Don't make me beat you."
"I'm not scared of you, Ry. Not a bit." Danny leaned back into him, a warm smile on his face. "How long can you stay?"
"I have to be at work at two. I should be done around nine tonight, though."
"Yeah? You want to have supper?"
"Uh-huh. I can pick something up on the way over." He pressed kisses along DJ's shoulders and neck.
"Oh. Okay, that sounds..." DJ's head fell forward, a soft moan sounded. He licked and nibbled, humming at the flavor.
He wanted this--every morning, every night. He wanted to be able to touch, laugh, be a part of something bigger, damn it. Something bigger with Danny.
He hadn't realized just how big a burden being in the closet was until now that it was gone. Yeah, he was stressed about how people were going to take it, about whether or not he was still going to have a job, but that was still lighter than the tension he hadn't realized had lived inside him until now, when he didn't have it anymore.
"Would you... You interested in going out for breakfast? Together?" DJ's words were soft, tentative.
Ryan took a deep breath and nodded, then stopped himself to answer out loud instead. "I'd like that." He had to get used to it, right? Besides, it would make DJ happy.
"You don't have to. I have eggs, a microwave."
"No, we'll go out. I'm not ashamed to be seen with you." He wasn't. He loved this man and having people know was way better than being too scared to be seen together in public. Being scared sucked. Being in love didn't.
"Are you sure?"
"Danny..." He growled a little and smacked DJ's ass. "Get dressed already."
"Bastard." DJ reached back, pinched him. "Be good."
He made an unmanly sound at the pinch and took a couple of steps back. "And here I thought I was being good." Grinning, he looked around for his own clothes. "I think my stuff is still in the living room."
"Yep. Slut boy." DJ's lips were twisted, the laughter right there.
He grabbed a pillow, shouted "incoming," and tossed it at DJ's back. Walter came barrelling in, grabbed the pillow with his teeth and shook it, wagging furiously. Ryan laughed, leaning against the doorjamb as he watched the dog battle the pillow. DJ sat on the bed, cackling, then grunting as Walter pushed into the man's arms for love.
Still smiling, Ryan went into the living room, picking up his and DJ's clothes and bringing them back into the bedroom. "I'm going to have to go commando." He wasn't putting yesterday's underwear back on.
"I do have a washer and dryer. Also, I have a bunch of clean pairs."
"You don't like the thought of me going commando? Where's your sense of adventure?" He pulled his jeans on and considered his shirt. "I will take a T-shirt, though."
"Sure. In the third drawer down."
He walked over and the shirts were in there--one row black, one row navy blue, one row dark gray. "Danny. I am so buying you T-shirts. Birthdays, Christmas, Arbor Day..."
"What? I have T-shirts, don't I?"
"Sure. Plain black, plain blue, and plain dark gray." He grabbed one of the black ones and put it on. He was stretching it a bit, but not a whole lot. "Boring, DJ."
"Like I could tell." DJ chuckled and winked. "I have Marlena keep them easy and organized."
"I'll get you some from the team to start with and build your collection from there." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You ready to go? Do we need to feed Walter first or anything?"
"He eats at night. I just need to harness him up." Danny's closet was just as meticulous as the drawers.
"Should I know how to do it?"
Danny stopped, stared toward him. "You want to?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He was with DJ now, wasn't he? He needed to learn shit like that, and probably tons more besides.
"That's really neat. No one's ever asked before."
Oh. Cool. He was glad to be special. At the same time, it made him want to growl a little. What kind of jerks had DJ been dating that they didn't care to learn how to be a part of his life?
"So show me."
"Okay. Okay, sure. He knows he's at work when he has his halter on..."
Danny kept talking as they headed into the main room and Ryan stopped, grinned. It was going to be okay.
It was.
He'd trusted in his heart and it was going to work out.
Epilogue
So, the arena was loud. Really loud. DJ was incredibly grateful Marlena had agreed to sit with him--he'd put Ry off as long as he could, but they'd been together eight months. Hell, they'd been living together for two and Ryan was just insistent that he show up tonight.
So, here they were. Him, Marlena, and Walter.
"Are we doing well?"
"I think so." Marlena was the least... sporty person DJ knew. "All the players left the field, it might be over... No, wait halftime."
"Oh, cool. Ryan said he'd be up here for that, maybe."
There was a roar and then the crowd quietened down.
"There's a couple people in the middle of the field. I don't know why."
"That's the head coach," the guy on the other side of Marlene informed them.
Anything else was drowned out by the loudspeaker. "Hey, Cyclones fans. We're having a good game so far!"
The fans screamed their agreement.
"I want to introduce you to one of our magicians here who makes sure the guys are in top physical shape. Ryan Coulter. He's got a question for someone in the audience."
Oh! Oh, that was his baby! DJ leaned over, whispered to Marlena. "Is he gorgeous?"
She laughed and patted his hand. "Not as cute as you, honey."
"Flatterer." Marlena had taken to Ryan easily, once the whole "don't mess with a blind man's stuff" situation had been fixed.
Her chuckle was drowned out by Ryan's voice.
"Thanks, Bert. So, there's someone very special in the audience today." Ry's voice sounded a bit strange over the loudspeaker, but it was still his baby. "DJ, I told them where you were sitting and they said they'd get you up on the Jumbotron so I can see your answer."
"Oh, my God! We're on the big TV!" Marlena squealed.
"What? What's going on? Ry?"
The crowd suddenly shouted and Marlena grabbed his arm. "He's on one knee."
"Oh, my God." His heart stopped a little.
"Daniel James Delout. I love you with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. Will you marry me?"
The crowd was quiet and DJ stopped, stood, eyes so wide behind his dark glasses that they hurt at the corners. "Oh, Ryan. Yes. God, yes. Please."
The screams of applause were so big they were almost painful.
Marlena, still clutching his arm, spoke right into his ear. "He's coming up the stairs, honey."
"Oh. Okay. Okay, good. Hold Walter?"
"You got it, honey. I'll take pictures."
Like he cared about that.
Suddenly Ryan was there, hands on his arms. "You did say yes, right?"
"I did say yes, right. I meant it, too."
"Thank God." Ry's mouth covered his.
DJ pushed into the familiar, welcoming embrace, the sound of the crowd disappearing. They kissed until he was breathless and then Ry rested their foreheads together.
"I love you, Danny."
"Love you, baby. I guess you have to go back to
work now, huh?"
"Nope." Ryan took his hand and slid something on it.
"No?" His fingers traced the ring--it was smooth, satiny. Heavy.
"I kind of have the rest of the week off starting now."
"Oh. I kind of have a few thousand kisses to share with you, then."
Ryan laughed, the sound happy, free. "How did I ever survive without you?"
"I have no idea," he teased. "You must have been miserable."
"Yeah, I was." Ry gave him a quick hug.
"Congratulations you, two!"
"Thanks, Marlena."
"Thanks, lady. I think it's time for us to go." He wanted a long, leisurely dinner--preferably naked together, on their bed.
"You can stay if you like, Marlena. Those are VIP tickets, which means you can go to the owner's box and have some food, some champagne, anything you want."
"Oh, I might. There are some pretty men here."
DJ stroked Ryan's arm. "There are."
Ry's chuckle was happy and Ry squeezed his arm. "Let's get out of here, DJ. I have a much more private celebration in mind."
"God, yes. Yes, let's go home, huh, Walter?"
Walter's soft woof was almost lost in the crowd.
Ryan took his hand and he grabbed onto Walter and they made their way up the stairs and through the halls behind the seats, the sounds of the crowd fading away. He could feel the ring, heavy and new on his finger, a promise.
"Baby?"
"Yeah, Danny?"
"Do we have to have our frat brothers at our wedding?"
Sean Michael
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago.
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, Sean is currently attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate-spinning and soap-carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.