The Bones of You

by Laura Stone

  Could Oliver have done that? Just had one night with Seth and not have expected anything else? The thought of not having their New Year’s together, their trip here in England… how could he not have seen just how far Seth was willing to go simply to be with Oliver for whatever time Oliver would give him, no matter the cost to his own aching heart?

  It’s like he’s making up for not being willing when we were younger. Oh, my God…

  With the towel wrapped around his hips and held in place with one hand, he quickly walked through the chilly house and back into his room. He slipped into bed and rested against the headboard with the sheets pooled at his waist and waited, with nothing but his thoughts about how selfless Seth had been.

  Oliver could hear the sound of him happily singing in the shower; his obliviousness to Oliver’s rising shame for his mistreatment of Seth over the past months went a long way toward easing it. He was so frustrated with himself for not realizing that he’d even been doing that.

  But.

  Seth was here, flirting and kissing and singing, and he knew without a doubt that for Oliver this wasn’t just now. Oliver wanted always. Which meant Seth must want that, too. And he’d flown across an ocean just to be with Oliver on the chance that they might have an always. Feeling more humbled by the moment, Oliver flashed back to years before, and what Seth had said to him:

  “If you wanted to be with me, then you would. It’s that simple for me.”

  Seth wanted to be with him and so he was here. In England. Waiting for Oliver. Waiting again.

  The door opened, releasing steam in curling tendrils as Seth stepped out, also in nothing but a towel. His body was strong and lean, and he was there. Seth walked to the dresser, but Oliver suddenly held out his hand across the mattress and said, “Seth. Please.”

  Seth walked to the edge of the bed, about to release his towel and slip in when Oliver stopped him by getting to his knees on the bed and grabbing Seth at the waist. Oliver tugged the towel off of Seth’s hips and skimmed his hands slowly up Seth’s ribs, across his chest and then up his neck to bury them in Seth’s thick, soft, still-damp hair. He leaned in, drawing his lips lightly over Seth’s but pulling back when Seth tried to deepen the kiss.

  “Thank you,” he said, not sure if it expressed everything in his heart, but unable to articulate any more than that through words.

  Oliver moved backward on the bed to make room, smiling as Seth stretched out. Seth’s body was almost otherworldly; he had long limbs and was well-muscled, but still managed to be lithe. He was strong, he moved effortlessly, he was everything Oliver found attractive in a man. But it was who Seth was that made him so attractive. Oliver traced his fingertips along the defined muscle of Seth’s thigh, up and over his hip bone.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to Seth’s solar plexus and drawing his lips lightly up Seth’s body to suck gently at a spot just above his Adam’s apple. “Just beautiful.”

  Seth let out a whine and tugged at Oliver’s hair to get him closer. Oliver’s fingers ghosted along the faint shadow of stubble at Seth’s jaw.

  “I’m so unbelievably lucky,” Oliver whispered, kissing Seth’s temple and nuzzling his cheek.

  “What?” Seth’s voice was breathy as he strained upward, bringing their bodies into closer contact.

  Oliver settled his legs between Seth’s, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation of Seth’s cock against his belly, growing even harder. He cupped Seth’s face, thumb pad drawing lightly over Seth’s high cheekbone. “I’m lucky that you’ll let me do this, that I get to be with you.”

  Seth closed his eyes, shaking his head and pulling Oliver back to kiss him slowly and deeply, his hands gripping at Oliver’s back. They rocked together, gasping into each other’s mouths, legs twining together as if they couldn’t get close enough.

  Oliver mouthed along Seth’s clavicle only to come back to kiss his lips again all the more fervently. He needed Seth, needed him to know how much this meant, that this was supposed to be how every night ended: Seth in his bed, their hands on each other and their love for one another filling them.

  Seth’s hands were buried in Oliver’s hair and he tugged on it lightly. Oliver loved that Seth was so physical. Seth wasn’t overly vocal in bed, surprising given that he was a performer and singer; but what Seth didn’t say he made up for with his body language. He wrapped his legs around Oliver and splayed his hands across Oliver’s back to hold them as close together as could be; he rocked their bodies languidly, he arched and gasped and clutched and dragged his lips over every inch of Oliver, and Oliver didn’t think he could ever get enough of it.

  He moved down Seth’s body, taking his time, feeling in his bones that he would have time. This wasn’t just a week with a former love; it couldn’t be just this time, not with the way every part of his being burned with need for Seth back in his life.

  He sank his mouth over Seth’s cock and moaned at Seth’s shuddering gasp of surprise. It had been four long months since he’d connected with Seth in this way, and years, before that. Oliver gave himself a moment to pull off and hold him, his eyes closing with the sensation of Seth stroking his hair and the sweet way he murmured Oliver’s name. He mouthed along the sensitive tendon at the top of Seth’s inner thigh and shuddered again with the realization that for him, this was it. Seth was the only one for him.

  Oliver whispered the words, “I love you,” somewhere near Seth’s navel before sinking back over him again, flattening his tongue to taste every inch, to burn the memory of Seth’s body into his mind. Every whine he pulled from Seth’s lips, every tremor in his muscles as Oliver worked him with his mouth and hands, every cry of pleasure from Seth filled Oliver with so much joy. He was the one who could do this, who could reduce Seth to this. On the heels of that triumph was a feeling of utter humility that Seth trusted him enough to be this way, even though it might not be forever for them.

  It felt like a stab to his gut, the pain that thought caused him. He redoubled his efforts; he wanted this to be about Seth, not him. About him showing Seth that he mattered, and how honored and humbled and filled with need Oliver felt to be like this, together again.

  Oliver flicked the tip of his tongue along the narrow groove on the underside of the head of Seth’s cock, knowing how sensitive it was, remembering how much Seth had loved it when they’d discovered that particular spot years ago. Oliver was rewarded when Seth brokenly moaned his name as he grabbed the bedclothes near his hips, his hands curling tightly into the fabric. Seth arched his body, driving him deeper into Oliver’s mouth, as deep as he could go. Oliver took it all, letting Seth work him as he needed, desperate to give all the pleasure he could.

  “Please, I’m so close… please?” Seth carded his fingers through Oliver’s hair over and over, his voice plaintive and desperate.

  Oliver pressed his forearms on Seth’s inner thighs to spread him open, wanting to hold him down and never let him go. He wanted it to be so good for him that Seth would cry out his name and forget how to say anyone else’s. His mouth was tight and wet; he stroked and twisted with his hand in the manner he remembered—no, knew Seth loved. Seth’s hand flexed once in his hair and Oliver looked up; Seth’s head was thrown back, his mouth slightly parted as he softly panted Oliver’s name with each exhalation as if it was something precious.

  With a tiny whine, Oliver pulled himself to his knees, grabbing Seth’s body under the hips and pulling the heated flesh up to meet his mouth as he hollowed his cheeks and sank down once, twice, three times more, and Seth arched again, climaxing while Oliver swallowed him down, petting every inch of skin he could touch as Seth’s body shook with his release.

  Seth collapsed, breathing heavily. After a moment in which he tried to catch his breath, and Oliver stroked his thighs and hips, kissing away the red marks where Oliver had held him tightly, Seth stretched a hand out to him. Oliver lay beside him and entwined their fingers as he placed soft kisses on Seth’s flushed skin
and under his chin. Seth quietly but fervently whispered, “I love you,” as he ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair.

  It had felt amazing to be with Seth in December; he’d had no expectation of even speaking to Seth when he’d gone to New York, and every moment they’d shared talking and just being together was such a wonderful surprise that Oliver could hardly look past the moments as they happened. But now, knowing without a doubt that his love would never go away, knowing that Seth loved him too… being together like this was an absolute gift.

  Oliver cupped Seth’s cheek, taking in the gorgeous sight of him satisfied, pink-cheeked and breathless. Seth’s eyes closed as he gave a breathy laugh.

  “Good?” Oliver asked.

  Seth rolled his head back, hands splayed and coursing over the wide expanse of Oliver’s back. “So, so good.”

  Oliver nuzzled Seth’s hair, a little damp and sweaty at his temples, coming undone at the undeniably unique and wonderful smell of him. It brought to mind so many memories of the two of them slipping away from family events, hiding from their friends, stealing moments to be with each other, their overwhelming need to connect physically. Oliver thought those memories were almost choking him; he needed more than just memories.

  “Love you,” he whispered in Seth’s ear, growling low in his throat when Seth arched up against him, wanting their bodies to touch again. He hung his head and pressed his forehead into Seth’s neck, shaking with need. It was beyond the physical; it was everything. He didn’t just want to get off. He wanted Seth’s love, his time, his future, all wrapped up with his, so tangled together that there was no question of ever separating them from one another again.

  Oliver curled up against Seth; he didn’t want to be away from him, even to cool off. Seth hummed happily at Oliver’s side, his hand lazily stroking Oliver’s shoulder and arm.

  “I think I lost my last name and the year back there,” Seth laughed.

  Oliver laughed softly against Seth’s neck and smiled with pride.

  “Let me catch my breath, and then—”

  Oliver silenced him with a slow, deep kiss. Seth melted against his lips as he took his time. “I just want you to hold me,” Oliver said. “Is that okay?”

  Seth looked into his eyes, a question on his face, so Oliver kissed him once more just to punctuate that it was what he wanted.

  “Are you sure?” Seth asked. “Because believe me, it would be my pleasure.”

  Oliver curled back up against him, his nose just under Seth’s chin so he could breathe him in. “I’m sure.”

  Seth wriggled a bit to pull the sheets and blanket up over them, then settled more comfortably into the bed, his arms wrapped around Oliver.

  “But if you have the urge to do anything later, feel free to wake me up,” Oliver murmured, already feeling tired from their day. He smiled against Seth’s neck as Seth gently shook with laughter. Seth found his hand again, pressed it to his chest and drew lazy patterns on Oliver’s arm until they both fell asleep.

  * * *

  They spent the next day taking the train into London and seeing the sights, holding hands and enjoying comfortable silences for stretches or chatting about anything and everything. In Trafalgar Square, Oliver stayed true to his word: a group of young musicians were busking near the fountain, and when they began to play Shostakovich’s “The Second Waltz,” Oliver held out a hand and gave Seth a small bow.

  Seth laughed and continued tapping his toe to the rhythm; they were really good. A few people in the growing crowd swayed in each other’s arms. Oliver cleared his throat, took Seth’s hand and tugged him into his embrace with a cheeky grin.

  Blushing and laughing, Seth allowed himself be waltzed through any open space Oliver could find in the square. Oliver hadn’t taken cotillion and ballroom dance lessons all of those years at his mother’s insistence for nothing, after all. A few other people—an older couple making up for their advanced years by staring lovingly at one another, and a young married couple who swayed rhythmically more than dancing—began to move around the musicians, spurring Oliver on. He moved them out of the main cluster of listeners and held Seth close and sure, his feet making the quick one-two-three steps as Seth easily kept up.

  In fact, Seth was so adept that once he got over the initial shock and embarrassment—it seemed as if no one really cared, or if they did, they kept it to themselves—he laid his head on Oliver’s shoulder, keeping his right arm in perfect position as they moved. Oliver flashed on another night of dancing with Seth in his arms, their last New Year’s Eve as a couple, when they had slow-danced in the Larsens’ garage; and he held Seth tighter, as tight as the ache in his heart had been. He could imagine the vision they made just then, Seth’s light hair in stark contrast to Oliver’s inky black mane, both of them long and lean, moving easily and competently across the open plaza in perfect sync. The song ended, the audience applauded, and a few people even nodded and smiled at them as they laughed and moved on. Seth slipped some bills from his pocket into the open violin case as they passed by.

  They rode the London Eye, Oliver making a point, in the crowded car, to keep a spot right at the glass at the back so Seth would have the chance to look out over the city with an unobstructed view once they made it to the top, while Oliver hooked his chin over Seth’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him from behind, simply enjoying the time they had together.

  Everything seemed so natural, as if they’d gone back in time: the ease of their companionship, their ability to talk or just be silent and share space together, the never-ending desire that evidently coursed through them both. Seth stole kisses as they took their seats on the train, ran his hand down Oliver’s arm as he moved to take a seat in a restaurant. Oliver would look up from their map to see Seth breathing shallowly with a heated look in his eye.

  They did their best to be quiet and respectful of Janos back at the apartment, but Oliver couldn’t keep his hands off Seth. They made pleasantries with Janos until they could slip away and lock the door, Oliver pressing Seth into the bed, hands working quickly and surely to undress him as Seth did the same to Oliver. Oliver wanted to bring Seth off as quickly as possible just to show that he could, but always, always took his time, making a point of lavishing affection and attention on every inch of Seth’s body, as Seth did to him.

  It was if they both knew that there was still the chance that it wouldn’t work out in their favor, that life would come between them once again. Oliver stored up every caress, every kiss, not wanting to think about how it could be their last. There was almost an unspoken agreement not to discuss the decision facing them; they could feel the painful weight of it lingering in the background, a dull pain that they tried to cover with “I love you.”

  It was a heady few days of rebuilding the love they’d once shared, interspersed with trips to a museum here and there, forcing themselves to leave for food but coming back to the apartment as quickly as possible to wrap themselves up in their private world of lovemaking.

  Now Seth, his hand stroking lower and lower on Oliver’s body, breathlessly asked if Oliver would let him fuck him again; and before he’d finished asking, Oliver was already twisting and reaching for the bedside table.

  He pulled out a small gray bottle and a few condoms and turned back to kiss Seth, who was looking down at him with a peculiar sort of half-smile.

  “What?” Oliver asked, craning his neck up to kiss him again.

  Seth shook his head as if to clear away a thought, murmured, “Nothing,” and pressed their lips together.

  This time it was Oliver who pulled back, laying his palm on Seth’s chest. “Really. What?”

  Seth settled his body over Oliver’s, sighing and covering his cheeks with kisses. “It’s ridiculous, and I have no right, but…”

  “Seth. You can tell me anything.”

  “I just…” Seth pushed up on his elbows, dipping his head to kiss one of Oliver’s temples and then the other. “I don’t like the thought of you with c
ondoms. Because that means you’ve been with someone else. And of course you have, I just, well, I don’t like it.” Seth looked at him, and the fire in his eyes sent a tremor through Oliver’s body.

  He thought he understood completely. He felt the same. “Say it.”

  Seth buried a hand in Oliver’s hair, watching his fingers intently.

  Oliver shook his head a little to get his attention again. “Seth. Say why.” He needed to hear that this was real, that what they’d been to each other before was what they would always be.

  Seth took a deep breath, his hand drifting down Oliver’s body, loosely circling Oliver’s cock, sliding lower and stroking. “Because you’re mine,” he whispered.

  Oliver’s eyes closed as he sighed, “Yes,” and pulled Seth down to kiss him. He needed to feel every inch of their bodies touching, from tongues to fingers to toes. Seth barely missed a step in opening the top of the small bottle, to stroking inside Oliver with a finger, his lips ghosting over Oliver’s, swallowing every exhaled “Seth” that Oliver could barely find the breath to say.

  Seth took his time, seeming to relish every moan, every cry from Oliver as his fingers stroked deep, deeper. Oliver was grateful for the weight of Seth’s body on his—he felt as if he could fly apart at any minute. Finally, finally Seth entered him, holding his body close as he curved his spine, driving in so slowly, pulling out to kiss him and drive back in. Every nerve ending in Oliver’s body was on fire, tingling from the overwhelming sensation of Seth everywhere, inside him, on him, his every sweet breath flooding Oliver’s body.

  He could feel that deliciously intense sensation pooling low in his belly as Seth thrust into him relentlessly, holding his legs open and simply taking. He gripped himself, letting Seth’s thrusts drive his cock through his own hand, and he pulled Seth in by the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, moaning, “Love you,” as he climaxed, Seth gasping and following shortly after.

  They stayed wrapped in each other, catching their breath, kissing wherever they could reach, still needing to touch, to connect, to belong to each other. All too soon the reality of life and their separate living situations would make itself apparent. For now, though, the world was just the two of them.