Straight Up

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Straight Up Page 16

by K. Evan Coles


  Stuart eyed Malcolm, his gaze was almost too sharp, and the frown didn’t leave his face. “I asked if the beef was too much. You mentioned focusing more on plant proteins—”

  “Beef is fine. I’ll eat pretty much any meat when it comes down to it.” Malcolm licked his lips. “I’ve been watching my budget and—”

  “Not buying meat helps with that,” Stuart finished. “Okay, got it.” He nodded at the bowl in Malcolm’s hand. “So if I made bone marrow with shaved bonito and teriyaki, you’d be game to try it?”

  “What is bonito, exactly?”

  “Dried, fermented fish that’s shaved thin into paper-thin flakes. Totally delicious.”

  “O-o-okay.” Malcom thought that over for a second. “I like everything you cook so I’m sure they’d be fantastic.”

  Stuart tipped his head back and belted out a laugh, and God, Malcolm’s breath caught. Stuart was…beautiful, really, with his strong features and plush mouth and Malcolm so wanted to touch him again. He gripped his bowl tighter to stop himself from doing so but Malcolm’s brain didn’t get the message about holding back and he started talking without meaning to.

  “Hey, do you want to go to a wedding with me?”

  Stuart’s eyes went wide. “A wedding?”

  “Sorry, that kind of came out of nowhere. Let me start again,” Malcolm said with a chuckle. “Carter and Riley are getting married in Southampton next month and I wondered if you’d be my date.

  “It’s fine if you think it’s too much too soon,” he hastened to add. “You know Car and Ri, though, and what they went through to be together. It would make me happy to have you there with me.”

  “Wow.” Stuart set his bowl aside. “I haven’t been to a wedding in a long time. Definitely never a same-sex wedding.” His expression was solemn when he shifted his focus to Malcolm. “My father was fit to be tied when Becky and I divorced—he’d really rage if he knew I’d witnessed two men vow to love each other until death do they part.”

  “Shit.” Malcolm’s stomach fell. He hadn’t meant to stir up Stuart’s awful past. He grabbed hold of Stuart’s hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Stuart squeezed back. “My mind got away from me for a second. Do the grooms know you’re bringing a date?”

  “Carter does. I told him about us today.” Malcolm knew he’d said exactly the right thing when Stuart’s face lit up. “He’s happy for me.”

  “I’m happy for you, too, Mal.”

  “I want to tell the other guys. The next party at Under is in a couple of weeks, and while I’ll see Kyle before then, I figure that’d be a perfect time to talk to everyone else.”

  “I like that idea.” Stuart knocked his shoulder gently against Malcolm’s. “And I’ll come with you. To Under and the wedding. Just tell me which days and I’ll work with the staff at King’s to make it happen.”

  Happiness bubbled up in Malcolm’s chest. “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely.” He ran his thumb over Malcolm’s. “I’d love to be your date. I know enough about your friends to guess they’ll support you. I still want to be there for you when you come out to them if you’re okay with that.”

  When you come out to them.

  Those words reverberated through Malcolm as he and Stuart turned their attention to cleaning up the meal. He would be coming out by bringing Stuart with him to Under and the wedding, or even to Staten Island for dinner with his mom. The world would assume he and Stuart were in a gay relationship because that was a logical jump, though the truth was far more complicated.

  Is it?

  Malcolm frowned. What he and Stuart did or didn’t do together in private was their business and no one else’s. So if people assumed Malcolm was gay? He couldn’t see why that mattered. Turns out he wasn’t exactly straight, so if the world needed to label their relationship, that was fine. Malcolm knew what he wanted, and that was to be with Stuart. Even more amazing, Stuart seemed to want to be with him, too.

  “There’s coffee granita if you have room for dessert,” Stuart said. He’d moved to the refrigerator, and though his words sounded careless, Malcolm saw tension in the line of his shoulders.

  Maybe because you’ve been stewing in silence for the last ten minutes.

  Malcolm moved to Stuart’s side. He needed to get better at talking about the crap going through his head. At least when it came to this man. Anything else could wait.

  “You told me you didn’t get fancy on your days off,” he said and slipped his hand into Stuart’s again.

  “Granita is basically slush you eat with a spoon.” Stuart leaned his shoulder against the fridge, his features more relaxed. “You can’t get less fancy than that.”

  “I could try. Got any canned cheese?”

  “Gah, no.”

  “Don’t be a snob,” Malcolm said with a laugh. “Will the not-fancy slush keep for a while?”

  “If it needs to.” The corners of Stuart’s lips curved upward. “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to go back to kissing you if that would be okay.”

  Stuart pulled Malcolm close. “You never have to ask me that,” he said, voice a low purr that got right under Malcolm’s skin. “I only stopped before because I didn’t want to push.”

  Malcolm rested his hands on either side of Stuart’s neck. He sensed power in the body pressed to his, like the man was a coil about to spring. Closing his eyes, Malcolm rubbed his lips against Stuart’s beard and sighed at the tiny shockwaves of bliss that simple motion brought.

  “You’ll know if I don’t want something,” he promised. While a part of him still wondered what he was getting into, all rational thought fled when Stuart slotted their mouths together.

  Yes.

  As before, Malcolm felt the kiss everywhere, this time the sensations even more heightened. His skin and lips tingled, and the first time Stuart slid his tongue against Malcolm’s, Malcolm groaned. Heat slashed through him, warming him inside and out so every nerve hummed.

  “Fuck,” Stuart whispered.

  They kissed some more as they crossed the room, and then Stuart was opening Malcolm’s shirt, plucking at the buttons with a dexterity Malcolm couldn’t fathom.

  “This okay? I need to feel you,” Stuart explained in between nips, and yeah, Malcolm wanted that, too. He needed to touch skin and tattoos and to breathe in wood and musk and Stuart.

  Malcolm really couldn’t stop kissing him, though, and got distracted halfway through pulling off Stuart’s shirt. Happily, he let Stuart take over, and soon they were both stripped to their underwear.

  “Gorgeous.” Stuart’s eyes glowed as he looked Malcolm up and down. He brought a hand to Malcolm’s chest, smoothing the lean muscle and creamy, fair skin with his palm. “You should show this body off more, Mal.”

  The buzz inside Malcolm stole his voice. He sat on the bed at Stuart’s urging and watched in a daze as Stuart straddled his lap. Grasping Stuart’s hips with both hands, he pressed his face against the tight torso before him, slowly rubbing his cheeks, nose and mouth against Stuart’s tattooed skin, eyes closed and elation rolling over him in waves.

  “Feels so good,” he murmured, sweat springing out on his skin. “God, you feel so good, Stuart.”

  “You do, too.”

  They groaned together as Stuart settled down against Malcolm’s lap, his erection rigid against Malcolm’s belly. Malcolm’s head spun. He whimpered softly when Stuart rolled his hips and, eyes still clenched closed, tilted his head back, seeking a kiss with a desperation he’d never, ever known before. Stuart’s mouth on his seared away the last of Malcolm’s nerves.

  “Show me what to do,” he begged when they finally came up for air. Staring up at Stuart as he was, every part of him ached. “I want to make you feel good.”

  “You do.” Stuart kissed Malcolm again, slower this time but with no less feeling. Malcolm’s insides trembled.

  God, how he wanted! So much more than he’d felt with the girls he’d dated, even Li
z. Malcolm wanted to crawl inside this man. Feel him head to toe. Watch Stuart tremble and come undone. Hold him for as long as he was allowed.

  Malcolm’s hands shook as Stuart climbed off him. Standing beside the bed, he slid off his briefs, movements lithe, revealing the miles of skin that Malcolm craved. Stuart’s cock stood erect and red against his abdomen, and Malcolm couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  This is really happening.

  He shifted higher onto the mattress, his heart pounding in his throat, and Stuart pulled a small bottle from the nightstand drawer. Stuart slicked his hands, then stretched out beside Malcolm and kissed him until the need inside Malcom sharpened to a point it almost hurt.

  Malcolm wrenched free with a grunt. “Show me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Please,” he began again and stopped when Stuart gave him the tenderest of smiles.

  “Okay.”

  Linking his free hand with Malcolm’s, Stuart guided him, spreading lube between their fingers with that easy motion. Together, they took Stuart in hand and Malcolm bit his lip at Stuart’s sharp inhale.

  “Slow at the beginning,” Stuart said. “Slow and tight, so I can really feel it.” His eyelids fell to half-mast as they pumped, and his chest hitched as Malcolm gripped him harder. “Uhhh…hell. Just like that.”

  Sliding his other arm under Stuart’s shoulders, Malcolm pressed their mouths together and clenched his eyes tight when Stuart moaned against his lips.

  Stuart brought his free arm around Malcolm’s neck and their kisses grew sloppy because Malcolm needed that contact more than air. Stuart broke away with a gasp.

  “Fuck, Mal.”

  The plea in his voice sent a shock of heat through Malcolm unlike anything he’d ever experienced. I’ve got you, he thought, and though he couldn’t say the words out loud, he meant them, body and soul.

  He and Stuart swapped lingering kisses, their strokes growing faster while Stuart’s breaths echoed through the quiet room and he bucked and writhed. Stuart’s hold on Malcolm turned to iron.

  “Oh, fuck. Gonna come,” he babbled, his whole body trembling. “You… ’M gonna come so hard.”

  “Let me see you,” Malcolm murmured, his chest twisting when Stuart’s glazed eyes locked with his.

  Stuart’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. He arched his back, thrusting his chest up, and a hot slick of cum spread over Malcolm’s fist. Awestruck, Malcolm held Stuart as he came apart, cradling him tight until Stuart went mostly limp and his eyes fluttered closed.

  “Mmm.” Stuart nuzzled Malcolm’s cheek with his nose and lips. “So good, baby.”

  Eyes burning, Malcolm pressed a kiss against the corner of Stuart’s mouth. He wanted to smile at the mumbled endearment, but the moment felt too big and important, and everything about Malcolm was strung so tight he could barely breathe. He actually flinched when Stuart brushed a finger against the waistband of Malcolm’s boxer briefs.

  “Hey. That was amazing.” Stuart kissed him, his touch so gentle, and his gaze shone bright when Malcolm peeled open his eyes. “I’d like to return the favor if you’ll let me.”

  “I’m good,” Malcolm promised. His skin pebbled as Stuart rubbed a sticky hand over his belly. “That was for you.”

  Stuart uttered a low chuckle. “Is this for me, too?”

  Before Malcolm could ask what he meant, a big hand spread over his very erect cock and the touch sent a shudder up his spine.

  “Holy shit.” Malcolm huffed out a shaky laugh.

  “You didn’t notice?” The tender expression was back on Stuart’s face. He rolled so he was half on top of Malcolm and that delicious weight turned Malcolm’s bones liquid. Jesus, he loved Stuart’s body over his, pressing him down.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “Mmm. You like that?” Stuart rubbed a thumb over Malcolm’s lips and smiled when Malcolm moaned. “I kind of like it when you swear.”

  “I try not to usually.” Malcolm shivered again. “Been more focused on you than anything else.”

  “Well, now it’s my turn. I’m going to make you feel good.”

  Fire flooded Malcolm’s veins. He rarely got hard without direct physical contact. Then again, everything with Stuart was different. A hundred times more powerful and intense, so that even when Malcolm’s attention was on Stuart, something inside him reacted, too.

  He grabbed on to Stuart’s waist with a force he knew was bruising. “Stuart. I need…oh, need more. Please.”

  Stuart pressed their foreheads together. “Of course.”

  Malcolm managed to hang on to his sanity until they got his boxer briefs down around his thighs. When Stuart wrapped a hand around Malcolm’s cock, he rocked his world on its axis.

  He couldn’t remember ever feeling so good.

  Body jolting, he muffled a shout against Stuart’s shoulder, his body screaming for relief he hadn’t known he craved. Stuart held him close, crooning sweet nonsense as he stroked Malcolm off, while Malcolm moaned and gasped, too far gone to return the kisses being dropped on his face and neck.

  “I’ve got you,” Stuart said, his low words an echo of the silent pledge Malcolm had made only minutes before.

  A lump rose in Malcolm’s throat. He soared and fell, all at the same time, his brain and body pulsing, and he turned his face into Stuart’s throat, craving closeness even more as he came so hard he could barely breathe.

  He had no idea how much time had passed when he surfaced again. He found Stuart holding him, however, his grip firm in a way Malcolm needed. In the next second, he noticed his boxer briefs had been peeled away and his skin wiped clean, too, and that his and Stuart’s legs were tangled together beneath the sheets. Cheeks warm, he made to move, then settled back quickly when Stuart shushed him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Don’t know.” Malcolm smiled against Stuart’s shoulder. Funny that he’d feel even the least bit shy after what they’d just shared. “Didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  Stuart ran a hand over Malcolm’s hair. “Not sure that would be possible. I was planning to hang on to you until morning, if you don’t mind, and there’s still not-fancy coffee slush in the freezer for us to eat.”

  “You may be sorry you said that when I’m wide awake in the middle of the night.” Affection swelled in Malcolm’s chest as he listened to Stuart laugh.

  “Fair enough. I’ll make sure you’re up in time tomorrow to get home and changed for work.”

  They lay quiet for a bit longer, Stuart petting Malcolm all the while, and when Stuart spoke again, his voice was much softer.

  “How do you feel right now?”

  Like I’ve been half-asleep my whole life and am just waking up.

  Malcolm drew in a deep breath. “Better than I have in a long while,” he said. “And like I’m starting to know a whole different side of myself I didn’t know existed.”

  Stuart hummed against Malcolm’s hair. “I think I know what you mean by that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Man, I really worked up an appetite hiking in the Ramble today,” Stuart said as he filled a water glass from the tap. He guzzled it down, then refilled it to sip more slowly.

  “Me, too,” Malcolm called out from the other room. “I’ll get a change of clothes and throw together an overnight bag so we can head to your place and eat there. I promise I’ll make it quick.”

  “Do you want to stop somewhere and pick up takeout on the way?” Stuart offered, hoping they wouldn’t have to wait quite that long. After the hike, they’d eaten a small picnic Stuart had packed, then given bouldering a try on a nearby rock. Apparently, lunch hadn’t been quite hearty enough to tide him over. His stomach was rumbling already.

  “I’m watching my budget, remember?” Malcolm said.

  “My treat. Nothing fancy. I was thinking of this place around the corner from me. Amazing Northern Italian stuff.”

  “I’d rather not, if that’s okay.” Malcolm’s voice sounded strained even from two room
s away.

  “No problem.” Stuart knew Malcolm didn’t like feeling indebted to him, although he’d hoped he’d relax about it now that they were dating rather than just hanging out as friends. Oh well. Stuart pulled open the refrigerator door and called over his shoulder. “Hey, how about I cook here? I’m seriously famished and I’m not sure I can wait another hour or so to”—Stuart furrowed his brow as his gaze landed on the puzzling sight in front of him—“eat.”

  Malcolm’s fridge was empty. Like a box of baking soda and some condiments kind of empty. Not even a small block of cheese or eggs. The only time Stuart had ever seen a refrigerator with so little food in it was when someone didn’t cook. At all. And Stuart damn well knew Malcolm could cook. They’d talked about it plenty of times and he’d eaten the delicious taco salad Malcolm had made at his mom’s place. Something was off here. Very, very off.

  “Sorry, that won’t work. I haven’t been to the store,” Malcolm called back.

  Various scenarios popped into Stuart’s head as he closed the refrigerator. He opened a couple of cabinets, finding plates and glasses before finally spotting the food storage. Except there was almost nothing in it, either. He picked up a jar of peanut butter that was scraped so clean there was barely a teaspoon left. One can of beans on the shelf. Maybe a quarter cup of rice in a container. Stuart pulled open a few more cabinets, but no, there was no food in them outside of spices and condiments like soy sauce. Almost nothing that an actual meal could be made from. Stuart was still staring at a set of empty shelves in confusion and dawning worry as Malcolm walked up behind him.

  “Are you moving?” Stuart asked as he closed the cabinet door. He’d let his food stores run low before moving to make life easier. This felt like more than that. Malcolm certainly hadn’t mentioned he was leaving this place. Nor had Stuart seen boxes or other signs of packing in the rest of the apartment.

  “Oh.” Malcolm’s laugh held a nervous edge. “No. Like I said, I uh, haven’t made it to the store lately. I’ve been so busy and I’ve been spending a lot of time at your place. I haven’t had time. You know how it is.”

 

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