When Ernesto came back to the table, he plunked down two shots next to Paulie. “Here.” His voice was tight, threaded with irritation.
I looked at him and found his eyes fixed on me in a glare. What the hell? Was he mad about the guys at our table? We sent them along without issue. I felt bad for Paulie if Ernesto was this jealous.
Except, he wasn’t glaring at his husband. All his ire was aimed at me. Confused, I turned around to see if I could gauge Steven’s mood. What I saw was his face stamped with anger as he shoved a man away from him.
I stood up quickly and made my way to him. The man, who was practically on top of him, crowded him into the bar. A flash of distress crossed Steven’s face, galvanizing me to all but tear the man away from him.
I pulled his collar roughly as soon as I was within arm’s reach. “Back off!”
The man stumbled. A good look at his red hair and stocky build, and I knew this was King. If anything, this realization enraged me further.
He followed him here.
He touched him.
I took advantage of his stumble and inserted myself between Steven and King. “Stay away from him,” I shouted. I wanted to be heard over the music, but also to show I wasn’t messing around. I didn’t know if it would work. If my brief encounter with Nico’s stalker was any indication, forcefulness didn’t always work as a deterrent. I braced myself for an unhinged attack.
For one moment, the man’s face screwed up in rage, but the second his eyes connected to mine, his demeanor changed. The transformation from tense and confrontational to subdued and apologetic was lightning fast, and it confused me.
My own muscles stayed bunched, ready for a fight, even when he stepped backward and lifted his hands in a pacifying, defensive gesture.
“I don’t want trouble, I just thought he might want a drink,” he said, taking another step backward.
I felt Steven’s face next to mine as he leaned over my shoulder. “Fuck off,” he snarled.
King looked from me to Steven, and his surprised expression turned sad. “I just wanted to be friends with you.” His eyes came back to mine and he repeated, “I don’t want trouble.”
“Then get the hell out of here. Now.” I gestured to the door and took a threatening step toward him.
He hesitated, his eyes flicking from me to Steven. He seemed to be weighing his choices and measuring the two of us. After a moment, and without a word, he walked away.
I watched his back, making sure I saw him leave. Once he had, I turned to Steven, who was watching his exit as well.
He sighed, bringing his eyes to mine. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking but we held contact for a long minute, until he reached over to the bar, downed a shot he’d ordered and said, “I’ll order us a ride.”
We didn’t say a word to each other until we got back to the apartment.
I wanted to talk in the cab, but too much eye-contact from the driver in the mirror, too-little eye-contact from Steven and the rigid set of his jaw, put me off any conversation. After accidentally looking in the rearview mirror and getting a wink, I turned my attention out the window and stewed in silence.
But as soon as we walked into the apartment, Steven laughed bitterly. “Well, that was a barrel of laughs, wasn’t it? I’m so glad we went.” He tossed his keys on the side table and walked through to the bedroom without so much as switching on a light. I was hot on his heels.
“I think you need to talk to your boss now,” I said as he turned on one of the bedside lamps.
“DKM, you were so magnificent. Such a knight! My strong protector!” His voice held such an exaggerated enthusiasm, it could have only been pure sarcasm.
I bristled. “Are you seriously pissed at me for coming over?”
His shoulders slumped. “No, no. I would have done the same if the situation were reversed. But, I’m not helpless, I’m not weak, and I sure as hell wasn’t afraid of him.”
I knew he wasn’t helpless or weak, but he’d looked afraid, I’d seen it in his face. I didn’t know if he was trying to convince me or himself.
“I know you’re not, Steven, but I’m not going to stand by and let you fight your battles alone.”
“He’s not even scary,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. He wasn’t looking at me, but instead, busying himself by pulling the comforter down on the bed. “Did you see how he just cowed down as soon as you put yourself between us? He’s a pussy.” He tossed one sham to the floor and grabbed another. “He was a pussy when he was here, and he was a pussy tonight.”
I took the pillow from his hand and stepped in front of him, encouraging eye contact. “But he followed you tonight. That’s not okay.”
Steven raised his eyes to mine and chewed on his bottom lip. “No,” he said with a sigh. “He didn’t.”
“How do you know?” I didn’t believe him. I thought he was trying to downplay the threat again.
“Because…” He swallowed. “Because he said he thought I came there to see him. He was already there.” Steven grimaced, shutting his eyes tight, then peeking at me out of one, like he was going to confess something terrible. “It’s where I met him.”
“What?!” My voice boomed, echoing in the quiet room.
“Shh,” he demanded, grabbing the front of my shirt. He pulled me in and pressed our lips together. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t want to let him deepen the kiss. It was a blatant ploy to shut the conversation down and I wasn’t having it.
But then he swept his tongue against my lips as his hand grazed my cock. I groaned and he took that opportunity to slide in. The synced strokes of his tongue and hand felt so good.
One kiss, I promised myself. I’d let him have one kiss, then we’d talk.
But the kiss never ended, it turned into neck sucking and belts unbuckling. When my brain came back online, we were naked, lying in his bed and Steven was partially on top of me, licking the crease of my upper leg.
He’s really good at distraction. I made a mental note. I’d need to remember this someday. His lips and hands and skin had me operating on a basic, primordial level that was wholly centered around sensation. But I needed to wake up my higher brain functions and bring us back to reality.
“S-Steven,” I choked out.
“Hmm?” He hummed in question as he nuzzled my balls with his nose.
“Wait, we,” I let out a groan when he licked the puckered skin of my sac. “Shit, Steven, we really need to stop and talk about this.”
He raised his head and looked at me. His eyes, without his glasses (which I had no memory of him removing) had an obvious lust-fog quality to them, like he didn’t quite comprehend what I was saying. They looked soft and sweet. But then my words penetrated, and he shook his head. “What’s to talk about? The blowjob you’re about to get?”
I huffed out a laugh, but my traitorous dick twitched eagerly at his words. “Not the blowjob. Your boss.”
He growled, put his face down into my groin and let out a muffled, “No!”
The sound vibrated my balls. I moaned and grabbed my shaft. That felt good.
My moan encouraged him. He took one of my balls into his mouth and applied a gentle suction. I gave another firm pull on my cock, reveling in the heat of his mouth.
Minutes later, I tried again, fighting the libidinous pull. “Steven.” He hummed again, this time making my entire body jolt. “N-nothing,” I rasped. “Continue.”
He lifted his mouth from me and laughed, the lines around his eyes and mouth crinkling adorably. He rose up on his knees and made a show of stroking his own shaft. His hair was in need of a cut and messier than usual and I loved it.
“I’m glad you’re finally onboard, DKM.”
“Oh, yeah, I am,” I moaned. I was fully onboard. Conversation could wait. I watched him work himself with one hand while tugging my sac with the other. I loved his body. He had an abundance of light, springy hair. His pubic area was trimmed short, and the hair continued in a trail up his torso and across his chest. I loved it. I loved the natural hair, the unashamed masculinity of it. My own was sparse compared to his, and lighter, too. I’d wondered what he thought of my smoother chest, whether he liked it or wished I was hairier like he was, but those thoughts disappeared quickly because he was always touching it and looking at it and telling me he was dead from it. Or maybe that was just my nipples. I’ve been told my nipples have killed him.
Steven stopped the motion of his hands, then used his considerable reach to lean to the bedside table. He grabbed a bottle of lube, laid it next to us then rose above me for a deep kiss while he ground his cock into mine, his gyrations quickening.
I groaned in delighted frustration. I wanted more friction. Needed more.
Steven stopped his movements, rose to his knees again and maneuvered my legs farther apart. I heard the snick of the lube lid opening and tensed. Was he going to fuck me?
We hadn’t done that yet, hadn’t talked about it. But as soon as the thought came to me, I was excited. Yes.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, Yes, do this. Give it to me. I was ready for possession, especially after what happened tonight. I didn’t care that I’d never done this before, didn’t care that I wasn’t the one doing the fucking. I just wanted all of him. Wanted to be together in every way we could.
But Steven felt my stiffness and said, “Don’t worry, we’re not doing that yet. Relax, and trust me, I’m going to make you feel so good.” He slid to his belly, bringing his face back to my aching dick.
“I know you will.” Steven always made me feel good. I propped myself on my elbows for a better view but ruined the effort by falling back to the bed and closing my eyes as soon as he took me into his hot mouth and swirled his tongue.
I let myself get swept away again, losing all thought, focusing on the wet heat of him. His mouth and hands worked me, slowly at first, then with a faster rhythm. He pulled on my sac and massaged my taint, all the while keeping up that glorious suction. I felt like I was going to levitate from the bed, when suddenly I felt a cool, slick finger massaging lower on my hole.
I briefly stiffened. Steven didn’t take his hand away, but kept up his firm, circular massaging. He lifted his head and asked, “Do you play with your ass?”
I looked at him, felt my cheeks heat inexplicably, and answered, “Yeah.”
“Has anyone been here but you, Ken?” His voice was gruff and low, his finger exerting a slight pressure on my ring of muscles.
“No.”
“I’ll make it good, I promise,” he vowed. “Slow and easy and so very, very good.” I knew he would. I’d done this to him before, several times, and he’d always come hard. I’d thought a few times that it would have segued into sex, that I was preparing him for me, but it didn’t.
I was eager now to feel what he’d felt. I was eager for everything.
He bent his head and took my cock back into his mouth and I chanted, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Multisyllabic words weren’t in the cards for me tonight, I guessed.
Steven took his time with his hands, he also lightened up on the rhythm and pressure of his mouth, too. It was obvious he had a plan, because his mouth and his fingers were working in tandem, first light and tentative, lulling me into a semi-relaxed state—or as close to relaxed as a guy could get while he was being sucked and fingered—then more bold and exploratory as my ardor grew and my muscles started to tense. When he repeatedly bumped my prostate in time with the downward stroke on my cock, I knew I couldn’t last long. I felt every muscle in my body tense, the hair on my arms stand on end, and I roared my completion.
“Damn,” I huffed, barely able to catch my breath. My whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat and my hard exhales were cooling my chest. My muscles, which had all been clenched so tight seconds before, had become loose and languid.
I was wrecked in the best way.