An Ocean of Light

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An Ocean of Light Page 8

by Kit Fortier


  When they woke up in the morning, they weren’t mean. In fact, the two cooked him breakfast and offered to drop him off wherever. They seemed to flat out ignore the fact that they were too drunk to get it on. For his trouble, they gave him three hundred. That was a lucky break.

  The other guys... The quickies in bathroom stalls... The ones who wanted him because they could toss him around... They would pay for the room and leave him a hundred, sometimes two... Those nights, at least he had a room, particularly when the buses had shut down for the night and he was on the other end of town.

  But he only did that when he was desperate.

  Like now.

  God, he was treating the man who saved his life like a fucking john. This man who had kissed him so sweetly deserved more than that. Much more.

  “I want to make this good for you,” Eric said truthfully. “But I’m afraid all I know is what I learned from…”

  “From?”

  “Stuff I saw on the internet.” The lie was greasy in Eric’s mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth.

  “So, we’re both… both virgins?”

  Eric blushed. In a sense, he was, as he never bottomed with a guy who liked him.

  But still, that was also a lie. He just never bottomed with a guy who cared about him. No matter how he wanted to paint it, he hadn’t been a virgin since he was eleven.

  Lies, lies, lies.

  “Look,” Ben said softly. “You don’t have to do anything,” he said. “I just want you to feel safe, okay?”

  “We don’t have to do anything,” Eric repeated. He gave a weak smile. “You’re right. It’s late, and I’d be happy to sleep on a nice bed for once.”

  “Of course,” Ben said with such tenderness it turned Eric’s heart inside out. He stripped off his shirt, and dear god there were miles and miles of him. A rough thatch of jet black hair spread across the solid planes his chest and down the ridges his front. He also seemed to share his father’s coloring. Eric saw plenty of guys like him in high school—on the wrestling team, in football… He always thought to avoid them, as they were his biggest bullies. But Ben’s face, his smile, his sky blue eyes—they all read of a man who would beat the bully up, rather than be the bully.

  “Do muscles and chest hair run in your family?” Eric asked sheepishly.

  “Yeah, I guess they do,” Ben laughed.

  That laugh.

  It was liquid joy in Eric’s ears.

  Ben pulled his pants down, revealing black boxer briefs that did little to disguise the man’s dick. Given his size, Eric figured it made sense that he was proportional everywhere else. The big man crawled into the bed—near the center, as Eric had done before, lying on the covers.

  “I get hot,” Ben said. “So, I mostly sleep on the blankets.”

  Eric nodded. He slid over to the opposite end of the large bed, slipping beneath the covers. Despite being on his side with his back facing Ben, he could feel his host’s eyes on him. After a couple deep breaths, Eric flipped over to face Ben.

  Ben stretched out a hand to Eric, touching his face.

  Eric shuddered. It was a kind of touch he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something gentle, something kind. If he could, he would have burrowed into Ben’s hand.

  “This is good,” Eric said.

  “More than good,” Ben replied.

  “Goodnight, Ben,” Eric breathed in deep. He scented chlorine, but underneath, waves of the bluest ocean water he could ever dream of seeing. It was the blue he saw when he took in Ben’s eyes as his own closed for the peace that overcame him.

  “Night, Eric.”

  *** Jake

  “You’re kidding, right?” Jake asked in a screamed whisper.

  “Sorry, baby. I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Papa bear, you don’t look at someone the way Ben looked at Eric without having some kind of attraction to them.”

  “Still, that’s my—”

  “Jake,” Fox said, his voice serious for the first time in the conversation, “Ben isn’t a eunuch. In fact, if he didn’t have his father’s libido, I’d be pretty damn surprised. It’s gonna happen. It happened between you and me.”

  “I’m forty, you’re twenty five.”

  “So, you want him to wait until he’s forty?”

  “Yes! No, wait—Don’t mess with my head, baby.”

  “As for the age thing, you won’t find much of an argument here, big guy. I like ‘em older.” Fox said with a wink as he took off his robe.

  “Well, we’ve had more experience!” Jake said in a furious whisper.

  “And how, I wonder, do you think Ben will ever get experience if he’s never allowed to try?” Fox said calmly, stripping off his shorts.

  Jake opened and closed his mouth like a fish on dry land.

  “Leighton Jacob Foster-Hughes, did I stump you?”

  “No. I’m imagining how much you’re gonna scream my name with my mouth on your hard dick,” Jake said, leering.

  “My dirty, dirty old man,” Fox snickered. Jake saw that he was hard indeed. He walked to the edge of the bed in front of Jake and sat down. The redhead spread his legs wide, his length reaching out, desperate for touch, begging to be tasted.

  “I’m waiting for my three rounds, husband.”

  “I thought I got those when we were in the tub,” Jake said, raising an eyebrow.

  “I don’t know man, I was so drunk!” Fox laughed. “You could help me remember, though,” he murmured, giving his length a slow tug.

  Jake might have drooled a little. Or a lot. But he pulled off his clothes. He fell to his knees in front of the man he loved and spent the next three hours reminding him of it.

  Both slept soundly with the rest of the city at their feet.

  ***

  In the morning, Jake pulled on the sweatpants Ben loaned him, and one of the hotel’s bathrobes. He slapped his husband’s well-ridden ass, waking him.

  Fox groaned. “I swear, Jake—you wake me from one more dream about a five-way with you—”

  “You know, the number keeps climbing up, doesn’t it?” Jake smirked.

  “It should,” Fox said with a wink. “I wouldn’t mind having an orgy with you, and you, and you, and you, and you and you…” He tapped Jake’s chest with every you he spoke.

  “You’re just hungry,” Jake grinned.

  “After last night? With the wine? And the stuff we did?” Fox sat up and scooted towards Jake, taking his hips in his hands.

  “Foxy, you are insatiable,” Jake said as Fox pulled his sweats down.

  “Nope. You’re right. I’m hungry,” Fox said, pulling Jake into his mouth.

  “Fuck, me, baby…” Jake's hands slid into Fox's mane and gripped him tight.

  “If you want me to,” Fox said with a grin. He continued to pull pleasure from his man, who shoved him back onto the bed.

  “The morning’s still young, and as you put it, I’m insatiable,” Fox grinned.

  Jake sat up and rolled Fox onto his stomach. With a well-practiced delicious slide from Fox’s taut ass to his shoulders, Jake made Fox feel every inch of him. Jake took Fox’s hands and pulled them over his head on the bed.

  “What will it take for me to quench your thirst, baby?”

  “You know what I want, papa bear.”

  “Show me how much you want it.”

  Fox writhed beneath Jake. He slid himself against Jake’s hardening dick, slicking his crack with the filaments of clear fluid dripping from his husband's cock. He tilted his rear up, catching the head of Jake’s dick at the entrance. Then he pushed himself back, impaling himself slowly, taking the whole of his husband’s cock with agonizing care. Fox let out a ragged breath as he pulled his man in.

  Jake sucked on Fox’s earlobe as Fox began to undulate beneath his bear of a husband. He took his man from the tip to the hilt— feeling every inch of the warm, rigid hardness inside him.

  Jake b
reathed heavy, running his nose through Fox’s hair. The electric charge of sensation sent jolts from his dick to his brain as he saw the flush on Fox’s back going up his neck.

  “Are you close, baby?”

  “Yes,” Fox panted. “Want it, want you…”

  “Take all you want, Foxy. It’s all yours,” Jake panted, ready to fill his mate.

  Fox drove up his pace, and Jake squeezed him for every bit he had. The sweat between them added to the sensation of touch, of taste. Every moment was one step closer to completion until Jake roared in Fox’s ear, and Fox screamed into the mattress. Jake filled his man, and Fox messed up the sheets.

  The two lay there, one on top of the other, until their breathing finally evened out.

  “Papa bear…”

  “Foxy?”

  “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “Big guy?”

  “Babe?”

  “Think your son’s new friend heard us?”

  A pause.

  “Shit.”

  *** Ben

  Waking up to the sight of golden yellow eyes almost startled Ben until he realized what happened the night before. He smiled at the young man in his bed, reaching out to touch his stubbly cheek. But before he made contact, Ben retracted slightly.

  “May I?” Ben asked.

  Eric smiled. “We were spooning all night, Ben. It’s okay for you to touch my face.”

  Indeed, it happened that Ben woke with Eric in his arms. He smiled as he slid the backs of his fingers over Eric’s face. The scrape of stubble on the sole of his hand was electrifying. Eric turned his head up and kissed the inside of Ben’s palm.

  “Your dads are loud,” Eric said matter-of-factly.

  “They’re not—” Ben was about to say ‘my dads’ when he stopped. Fox may not be his father, but technically speaking, he’s a stepfather. It might lead to a whole round of awkwardness, but he had to admit Eric was right. “They’re kinda dorks about each other.” Smooth.

  “They’re kinda hot,” Eric smirked.

  “They’re my dads. Ew.”

  “You’re hot.”

  “You’re just saying that,” Ben said. But Eric was insistent. He pushed Ben back, straddling his torso.

  “You’re hot,” Eric repeated, purposefully, reverently, quietly. There was silence between them for a moment.

  “You are too,” Ben whispered as Eric closed the distance between their faces little by little.

  “I don’t want to do this wrong, Ben,” Eric said. “You saved my life, and though it’s not much of one, I am grateful.”

  Ben took Eric’s face in his hands, brushing over his cheeks with his thumbs. “Why?”

  “Why what,” Eric countered as he averted his eyes for the briefest of moments. He was dodging.

  “Who says you don’t have much of a life?”

  Eric swooped in with a kiss. It was raw, and dirty, and full of teeth and tongue and scraped lips. Ben was panting—he’d never had a kiss like that before.

  “Hey, hey—Eric,” Ben said, holding Eric by the shoulders gently.

  “You don’t want me?” Eric whispered.

  “What? No—I mean… God, Eric. I don’t know what to say to that. Yes, I want you. But that’s just me wanting your body. I want to know you, the person inside the body.”

  Eric looked away. Clearly Ben wasn’t making ground. He sat up, laying Eric next to him, and laying over him, gently pinning him to the bed.

  “We’re going to help you. I’m going to help you. I just want to know why you think your life isn’t much.”

  Ben looked into those eyes, the mysterious golden yellow. He wasn’t going anywhere until Eric spoke.

  “The clothes on my back aren’t mine, Ben. They almost wouldn't let me into the lobby. I didn’t have a lot of anything before this thing happened to me, and I have nothing now. What am I going to do?”

  Eric’s eyes flooded with unshed tears. Ben nestled in. He slid his arms under Eric’s shoulders. Their fronts pressed together in intimate contact. Ben was speaking in the only other language he knew how, and was to hold someone, to be held.

  “Ben, you don’t want me. I’m a loser in every way. I’m surprised the wolf even cared enough to bite me.”

  “Eric, just hold onto me, okay?”

  Eric’s hands tentatively slid across Ben’s shoulders.

  Ben kissed Eric’s chest and looked at him. He struggled with the words to say. Then a truth from a particularly rough therapy session wandered into his head. He spoke the words his thirteen year-old self heard from the psychologist overseeing his mental health.

  “I can’t make you any promises, Eric. All I can promise is now. If we can make it through now, then maybe we can make it to tomorrow. Can you do that with me?”

  Eric pulled Ben’s face to him. He looked back and forth in each eye, as if he was deciding which one was more sincere than the other. His eyes fell to Ben’s lips. He nodded and kissed the man on top of him.

  The taste of Eric was sweet, simple. Eric’s tongue slid against his own, causing him to groan. Ben met Eric’s tongue with his own, the sensation threatened to short circuit his senses. Eric sucked Ben’s lower lip in, worrying it between his teeth. Coupling the attack on Ben’s mouth with the friction between the both of them, Ben found himself panting. He fought back in vain for a foothold on his sanity and his senses, but Eric was a skilled and relentless opponent. Without breaking contact with Eric’s lips, Ben scrambled to tug his boxer briefs off before pulling the other man closer.

  Eric thrust against Ben, their hardnesses slick and desperate. Despite Eric’s smaller size, he forced Ben onto his back, traveling down his front and straight to his dick.

  Suddenly, Ben was gasping for air as Eric took him to the hilt.

  “Oh fuck!” He cried. The inside of his mouth was warm, smooth, wet, and tight. Ben got worked over hard and fast. Eric fondled his sack with one hand, and with the other hand, he pressed against Ben’s perineum. He edged towards the center of his crack. Ben's breath hitched as Eric rubbed over the entrance that held the bigger man’s virginity intact.

  Ben grabbed at the sheets, unwilling to grab Eric for fear he might hurt him. Eric upped his speed, his intensity. Ben let out a stream of obscenities that Mrs. S would surely scold him for.

  Warmth encroached on Ben’s chest, his head. A flush was coming. Eric worked him inside and out with a finger wriggling its way to holyshitfuckgodyes—

  Eric found something that drove Ben over the edge. Something within him shot searing hot pleasure straight to his brain every time the little guy brushed it with his finger. Ben screamed through his teeth, his neck straining, as Eric drank him to the last drop. He then backed off gently, worshipfully kissing and caressing Ben’s dick as it was the only one on earth.

  Ben’s breathing eventually slowed. He pulled Eric up to him, kissing him deeply—the taste of himself intoxicating on Eric’s lips. Eric’s breath on his face fogged his brain.

  “Was it good?” Eric asked. Ben smiled.

  “So good.”

  “We can do more, if you want.”

  “What do you want?”

  Eric looked unsure. “I think if we want to do more, I should get tested first.”

  Ben’s eyebrows pushed together. He pieced together what was being said by what was being… not said. He didn’t hear Eric’s answer about virginity last night. What Eric did to him just now couldn’t have been easy for someone new to oral sex, considering his own sizeable dick. Ben realized Eric definitely had sex with others.

  But he wanted to thank him for saving his life by offering his body. He had no money, no belongings. He had nothing, no one, and… Oh.

  The probability that Eric had sold himself for money seemed more and more obvious. The horrors of lycanthropy that the poor guy dealt with was only one more issue on top of a mountain of issues. He wouldn’t bring up Eric offering his body as payment. That seemed like a minefield he was not equipped to trave
rse. Instead, he focused on the now.

  Instead, Ben kissed him. “We’ll do that today.”

  *** Eric

  There was no doubt about it, he wanted Ben. He wanted more of him, and he wanted to be right for him. But his life before, and his life now, seemed incongruous with Ben’s life. All he knew is that his dads must be rich if they could afford this mansion of a suite, and that in practically every way, Ben was way better off than he could ever be.

  While Ben stepped out to talk with his fathers, Eric washed his face. He ran a wet comb through his hair. Then he brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush that Ben hadn’t unwrapped at the other sink that Ben didn't occupy.

  At some point, Ben sent Eric’s clothes to the laundry. He hadn’t noticed, but he had been too preoccupied with the gentle giant in the room that he hadn’t cared. But now he had nothing to wear that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot in front of Ben and his family. And Ben was twice his size in every way. But his host had his clothes laundered overnight. He found the blue button down shirt and jeans had been cleaned and folded, sitting on the end of the bed.

  The big guy was thoughtful, that’s for sure.

  He dressed in the clothes Ben left out and was thankful for the board shorts. Eric could tighten the drawstring to keep the shorts from falling down. The jeans he stole were a size too small for his liking, especially without underwear. But fatigue and grief kept him from reacting to Ben at the poolside—and it wasn’t until he knew he was safe for at least one night that his body heated to the big guy’s attention.

  Eric padded barefoot down to the living room area. He could hear the men talking.

  “What do you mean you want to get tested? Have you even had sex?” Jake’s bassy growl.

  “It’s not for me, it’s for Eric.” Ben’s pleasant baritone, pleading.

  “Did he—did you—” Jake.

  “Let him speak, baby.” Fox’s warm, deeper tenor.

  “I know, I just... It’s sudden, you know?” Jake.

  “Dad, it’s alright. I like him. I want to help him.” Ben’s voice was suffused with an earnest kindness.

  “Sure, son, but you’re only eighteen. You barely learned about the things we told you before you graduated.”

  He’s only eighteen?

  “I can drive him, papa bear.”

 

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