Spreading his legs wider, Malcolm grasped at Stuart, his fingers spread wide and digging into Stuart’s muscles. Sweat broke out over his skin and he lost himself in the sensations washing over him. Hot skin against his. The rasp of beard on his cheek. The achy-good burn of being stretched. He moaned when Stuart pushed a second finger in, filling him up and yet not enough.
“Want it,” he murmured, throat going tight when Stuart hugged Malcolm tighter and pressed a lingering kiss against his temple.
“I’ve got you.”
Stuart pumped his fingers slowly, driving the need inside Malcolm higher and higher until he thought sure he’d lose it. Then Stuart slid a third finger home and curled them just right, reducing Malcolm to a trembling, gasping mess. He groaned loudly when Stuart finally slipped his hand away.
“Oh, God. Don’t stop, Stuart. Need more.”
Stuart kissed the corner of Malcolm’s mouth. “Okay.”
He slicked them both up with more lube before climbing over Malcolm, and as he lined their bodies up, he smiled. Malcolm could do nothing more than hold on and breathe. Stuart brushed the head of his cock against Malcolm’s ass.
His gaze didn’t waver as he breached Malcolm, pushing so, so slowly past the tight ring of muscle. He paused, murmuring sweet nothings to Malcolm, then sank deeper, still at that achingly slow pace and love written all over his face. Malcolm brought a hand up to twine in Stuart’s hair, his nerves alight as he stretched and burned.
“So full,” he whispered. “Fuck. I didn’t know. Didn’t know it could be like this. It’s—” His voice broke. “I feel you.”
Stuart wrapped Malcolm up tight in his arms. “You’re unbelievable,” he choked out, then pressed kisses against Malcolm’s face.
He rocked in and out of Malcolm, his movements gradually gaining speed until they found a rhythm that transformed the razor edge of Malcolm’s pain into a deep, delicious ache. Malcolm lost all sense of time, consumed by the man who held him, filled him, loved him.
His bones turned liquid when Stuart wrapped a hand around Malcolm’s cock. Desperate to get closer, Malcolm clung to him, raising his knees to Stuart’s hips. He jolted hard when Stuart shifted just so and lightning raced through Malcolm, the sensations so intense he sobbed.
“Fuck, Mal,” Stuart rasped out. “You’re gonna make me come so hard.”
Yes.
A fierce joy lit Stuart’s face. He gasped, his thrusts turned erratic, and came, his hold on Malcolm like iron. Malcolm fell apart without warning. Chest twisting hard, he soared, the world a blur around him and pleasure piercing him through. Time stretched, shining and perfect as his cock pulsed, marking his and Stuart’s skin. Distantly, he was aware of Stuart’s movements slowing and his tender kisses, and Malcolm gladly let himself fall. With Stuart beside him, Malcolm would be just fine.
* * * *
“Any chance you can play hooky tomorrow?”
“What did you have in mind?” Sprawled on his stomach with his arms wrapped around his pillow, Malcolm threw a lazy smile at Stuart, who waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Nothing that involves the motorcycle, right? I’m not sure I’m up for that kind of ride.”
“Ah, no.” Stuart laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” Rolling closer in the bed, he made a contented sound when Malcolm snuggled in. “Your body needs at least a day before you go climbing on the bike.”
Stuart ran a hand over Malcolm’s ass, petting him gently through the sheet. He’d taken good care of Malcolm in the aftermath of their lovemaking, grounding Malcolm as he’d come back to himself and wiping him down as he’d dozed. And while Malcolm was indeed a little sore, he’d loved it. Loved letting go and that Stuart had owned him utterly. Truth be told, Malcolm suspected he might still be sex-stoned, and he was glad he didn’t have to go anywhere until morning. And particularly not having to go anywhere on the back of the motorcycle.
“I’m not on until three and I’d like to take you out to the wood shop in Brooklyn,” Stuart said. “I did some work on the table that goes with those bar stools and thought you’d like to see it.”
“If the table looks anything like the stools, it’ll be stunning. But sure, I’d love to go with you. As long as you don’t mind taking a train or boat.” Malcolm paused as a thought occurred to him. “Are you planning to sell the set?”
“No. I’m sure it’d fetch a good price, but I always meant to keep it. And now that you’re here, it’ll be nice to have somewhere to sit that isn’t the floor.”
Malcolm angled his head up for a kiss. “I like that idea. I like our picnics too, though. I’d miss them if we gave them up entirely.”
“Then we won’t.” Stuart pressed his lips to Malcolm’s again. “It doesn’t matter to me where I eat as long as the food and company are good.”
“That’s nice. You’re such a sap.” Malcolm knocked his knuckles against Stuart’s chest. “Hey, would you let me cook for you sometimes? My food won’t be as cheftastic as yours, but I’d like to do it anyway.”
“That word you just made up does not describe the meals I make here. Heck, I still skip plates and eat out of the pan when the mood strikes me.” A laugh rolled out of Stuart. “Every meal you’ve made for me has been great, plus your cookies are some of the best I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
“Okay.” Malcolm smiled. “I want to do something nice for you for a change.”
“What do you mean, ‘for a change’?” Stuart cocked his head. “Like you don’t do nice things for me on the regular?”
“I suppose that’s true. I also feel like I could do more. Make you happy, the way you do me.” With a sigh, Malcolm brought a hand up and smoothed Stuart’s hair back from his forehead. “You’ve given me so much. Helped me understand myself. Showed me what love can be. You changed my life and I’ll never forget that.”
The intensity in Stuart’s gaze made Malcolm shiver, but his voice was quiet as he laced their fingers together. “You’ve done the same for me, Malcolm. Don’t you know that by now?” He settled down against the pillows beside Malcolm and wrapped him up tight. “You give me everything, just by being you.”
Chapter Twenty
January 2017
“You need anything before I head out?” Stuart stuck his head in Marisol’s office. It was his day off, but he’d come in to catch up on some paperwork from a recent catering gig. Stuart had seen a definite uptick in interest since the first CEC event last spring. The CEC had hired him for another fundraiser last fall and the annual holiday party. He was also booked for an upcoming fundraiser in May and it was only late January now.
Marisol looked up from her laptop screen. “Nope, I think we’re good. I’m just going over the books.”
“How’re we doing?”
“Pretty fucking well.” She leaned back in her chair with a pleased smile. “We had a record number of sales in the last quarter of the year and profits are up.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She lowered her voice. “Don’t share this with the rest of the crew yet but I’m planning to announce raises for everyone.”
Stuart offered her a grin. “I’m sure that will go over very, very well.”
“Hey, you know I’m committed to making this a good place to work. For everyone. I want you guys to have some quality of life.”
“I do know that, and you’ve done a hell of a job with it,” Stuart said. “Don’t think I don’t realize how lucky I am to work here every day I come in.”
“Yeah, yeah. Cut that shit out. I’m not looking to get my ass kissed here.”
“Apologies, Chef.” The corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.
Marisol gave Stuart a look that told him she’d picked up on the teasing note in his voice. “And I don’t need your sarcasm either.”
“You like my sarcasm. It’s why you hired me.”
“True. It certainly wasn’t for your handsome face.” She briefly dragged her hands across her own face and yawned, prompting a spike of concern in
Stuart.
“And what about your quality of life? Are you looking out for that?”
“Hmm?” Marisol rubbed at her eyes again.
Stuart dropped into the seat across the desk from her. “You look exhausted. And you deserve a break. Have you considered taking a vacation?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Marisol’s face and she looked more like her usual self. “I’m fine, just a little tired. And I have actually considered a vacation. Beth and I have been discussing it. Probably just a long weekend upstate or something.” She shrugged.
“It would at least help you recharge your batteries.”
“Exactly.” Marisol drummed her fingers on the desk. “You good with filling in for me while I’m gone?”
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t overlap with any catering gigs I have lined up, I’d be happy to.”
“I checked to make sure you weren’t otherwise occupied so I’ll email you the dates I was considering in the next day or two,” Marisol said.
“Sounds good.”
Marisol looked at the clock and rose to her feet, shutting the lid of the laptop. “We’re about to open for dinner so I need to get my ass in the kitchen.”
“You like these days I have off, don’t you?” he teased.
“When I have a chance to get my hands dirty on the line? You bet I fucking do. Now get out of here. I know for a fact you have a handsome man to go home to.”
Stuart grinned. “I sure do.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Stuart pulled his bike up to the curb and parked. A sense of contentment stole over him as he chained the bike and pulled the cover over it. He and Malcolm had recently moved, and while he occasionally missed living in Little Italy, it was mostly because he missed the food. Parking was actually easier around their new place here on the border of Kip’s Bay. He and Malcolm had searched high and low for an apartment around Little Italy and K-Town. They’d also weighed renting versus buying before finally settling on buying a studio on the edge of the NoMad district.
Stuart nodded at the doorman, who held the door and greeted him with a friendly, “Good evening, Mr. Morgan.”
“Hi, Dominick.” He tucked his helmet under his arm as he nodded his hello. A woman glanced his way as he strode through the lobby, eyeing him up and down with an appreciative glance. Stuart didn’t recognize her so he figured she must be waiting for a tenant to come down. Some of his neighbors had given him wary looks for a while—especially when he wore his riding leathers—so he’d gone out of his way to introduce himself and greet them warmly until their wariness faded.
A jog up several flights of stairs brought Stuart to the apartment he lived in with Malcolm and he hummed to himself as he fitted the key in the brand-new lock. The building was on the small side, it was well maintained, and their unit had been recently renovated. Their apartment made him smile every time he stepped inside of it and today was no exception. Although it was already dark out thanks to the early hour of sunset, the space felt light and airy.
At just over five hundred square feet, the studio was easily twice the size of Stuart’s old place and was laid out much better. A large closet and roomy bathroom were off to one side, but the majority of the space was an open rectangle with the kitchen at one end. The sight of it had made him gasp audibly one night when he and Malcolm had been online browsing real estate listings.
Malcolm had glanced over at him. ‘You love that kitchen, don’t you?’
‘I do.’ Stuart had groaned and leaned in to inspect it more closely. Although still compact, it had been well laid out with an excellent workflow. He had liked the cabinets that went all the way up to the ceiling and the stainless-steel gas cooktop and range, but they hadn’t been what drew him in most. Even the solid stone countertops and dishwasher—unheard-of luxuries for him—hadn’t outshone the vision Stuart had of himself cooking breakfast on weekend mornings while Malcolm worked on his laptop at the narrow breakfast bar nearby. Stuart had pictured the table he’d build with hidden leaves that would expand to seat their friends. And after he’d explained that to Malcolm, Malcolm had given Stuart a soft smile and kissed him lightly on the lips.
‘That sounds amazing.’ Malcolm had scrolled up to look at the price. ‘Oof. It’s definitely at the top end of the range we discussed.’
Stuart had stolen a peek and frowned. ‘It is. You’d have to be okay with me putting the bulk of the down payment down and I know that’s not ideal for you.’
Malcolm had nodded and bit his lip. ‘It’s not. We do have one other option.’
‘What’s that?’
He’d leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, when I mentioned we were shopping for a place, both Kyle and Carter offered me a loan. Separately. I’m not even sure they talked about it with each other at all. They just know how expensive Manhattan real estate is and that it’s a tight market.’
Stuart had raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘You’re considering it?’
‘Do you think I shouldn’t?’
‘No, I didn’t say that at all,’ Stuart had replied, his words coming out slowly as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to say. ‘I’m just surprised…’
‘Given the way I reacted when they bought me groceries?’
‘Yeah.’ Stuart had rubbed Malcolm’s shoulder.
‘I guess I learned from that whole situation,’ Malcolm had said with a little sigh. ‘There’s no good reason for me to be so stubborn. It’s one thing to have pride, it’s quite another to let it keep me from being happy. From doing something that would make you happy. And this place would make you happy, wouldn’t it?’
Stuart had shrugged. ‘I like it a lot, yes. The kitchen is definitely a selling point and I can see us living there. None of that is worth causing you stress, though.’
‘I appreciate that. But I think it would be worth accepting the help,’ Malcolm had said slowly. ‘Now that my mom’s financially stable, my savings are building up again, but it’s going to be a while before I have enough to make much of a contribution to a down payment. I don’t want to wait a year or two to move in with you and I want it to be a place we can stay in for a long while. If borrowing some money from friends allows me to do that sooner rather than later…why not? I know I’ll be able to pay them back, and a loan will let us do it now rather than having to wait.’
‘If you’re comfortable with it, I say go for it,’ Stuart had said. ‘And let’s call the real estate agent immediately because this place will go fast.’
Thanks to a loan from Carter and Riley and a good chunk of Stuart’s savings, they’d managed to put in an offer that snagged them the studio and now they were settling in nicely. Moving had been easy enough because neither of them owned a lot and they were slowly furnishing it with items they’d found together at thrift stores and the belongings Stuart had tucked away in storage.
Stuart’s favorite spots—apart from the kitchen—were the two deep windowsills. They held small pots of greens and a variety of herbs. They didn’t compare to what he had planned for next summer, however. Their fire escape had enough space and direct sunlight that Stuart was going to try growing potted strawberry and blueberry plants along with patio tomatoes. He had plans to build planters that would hang from the railings and the grates above. Luka had cringed when Stuart mentioned it, but Stuart had shown him the small landing area out of the way of any foot traffic, Luka had agreed the garden wasn’t a fire safety hazard.
Stuart was both amused and appreciative of the way the speakeasy guys looked after one another. He was officially one of the crew.
Now, Stuart brushed his fingers across the tender basil leaves in one of the windowsill pots, releasing a cloud of spicy-herbal fragrance. Every time Malcolm caught Stuart trimming off dead leaves or carefully watering the soil in his herb garden, he gave Stuart a small, fond smile.
The whole apartment made Stuart happy. From the customized Murphy bed that tucked up into the wall to the kitchen island Stuart had built to give t
hem more prep space, the place was theirs. Some days he had to pinch himself to believe that he’d finally found the home he’d been searching for since he left Utah.
It wasn’t the space Stuart had moved into that made the place a home, though—it was the man he’d moved in with.
And the dog, Stuart thought as he felt a wet nose nudge his hand. He looked down with a smile. “Well, hello there. You must have been snoozing hard not to wake up when I got home.” He scratched behind Chase Barksdale’s fawn-colored ears and was rewarded with a thump of Chase’s tail on the floor as the dog wiggled happily at the attention.
They’d gone to the shelter with no particular breed in mind and Stuart had fallen in love with Chase the moment he’d laid eyes on his intelligent expression and saw his friendly nature. When Malcolm had expressed concern that the dog might not have the right temperament for a small apartment, the person on staff had assured them that the Whippet-Lab mix was perfect for them. Slightly bigger and broader than a typical Whippet due to his Labrador blood, Chase had the calm, low-maintenance temperament of the Whippet breed.
They had both bonded with the dog and now Stuart couldn’t imagine a life without him. He and Malcolm often spent evenings on the couch with Chase between them, his head stretched out on Stuart’s thigh while his tail whapped against Malcolm’s legs.
Debbie—one of Stuart and Malcolm’s neighbors—worked from home and loved to go on afternoon runs. When she’d met Chase, he’d taken to her immediately, and she’d enthusiastically offered to take Chase with her on those runs. It gave him a chance to stretch his legs and burn off energy. Most days when Stuart or Malcolm got home from work, they found Chase snoozing in his bed on the floor.
The sound of a key in the lock made Stuart look up. He’d been lost in his thoughts far longer than he’d realized. He glanced at the clock on the wall to see it wasn’t quite as late as he’d imagined. Perhaps Malcolm had left work early today.
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