Fierce & Fabulous (Sassy Boyz) (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Fitch couldn’t see anything but the black toy against the black blanket. Out of the corner of his eyes he knew Ansel was already half naked. His lover’s words made a vague impression, but he was stuck. Pinned, by regret and fear and a hunger he couldn’t deny.

He’d avoided saying it, again. What was his problem?

His chest felt too tight, like a thousand rubber bands had wrapped around him. Fuck, he’d seen the expectation in Ansel’s face too. Known his lover was waiting, maybe even hoping, but he had chickened out.

Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.

Why couldn’t he get it out? What was holding him back? Was it just the fear of pushing too hard or was it some kind of perverted self-preservation? He didn’t know and didn’t have time to analyze now, because Ansel was getting naked.

They were about to fuck.

Anxiety slithered through him when he considered what was about to happen. He’d thought he was prepared. He’d used the butt plug enough over the past few days to feel comfortable about it. He’d studied articles online. He’d even signed in to an anonymous chatroom to ask questions. He’d bought the right supplies and made sure he was super clean before dinner. But Christ, he’d been fooling himself. The reality of knowing he was about to have a dick in his ass was so much more terrifying than he’d imagined, even while his cock filled and ached within the tight confines of his jeans.

He struggled to take in air. Every inhale was short and bitter. Just when he was sure he was going to ruin the night by passing out, Ansel’s palm cupped his cheek.

“Hey. Are you sure? Because you’re looking a little green.”

Fitch blinked until the eyes he loved so much came into focus and suddenly he could breathe again. The warmth of Ansel’s touch gave him another connection to hold on to, so he did. He covered Ansel’s hand with his own and kissed his wrist.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I mean, I know my cock is pretty fucking scary, but you’re a big guy, I’m sure you can handle my massive penis.”

Fitch laughed and pulled Ansel in for a hug. “You got me. I’m shaking in my boots because I’ve seen the anaconda in your pants.”

Ansel snuggled closer, burrowing until Fitch felt the hard beat of his heart on his own chest. Knowing his dancer was just as anxious calmed him a little. He tucked his fingers into the waistband of Ansel’s loosened pants, teasing the top of his ass.

I
love you.

His lips might not be ready to say it aloud yet, but his heart was.

“Don’t worry, Grumpy Bear, I’ll take it easy on you.” With those words, Ansel grabbed his ass and both of their cocks twitched.

“I trust you,” Fitch said.

After a deep breath, Ansel pulled away and look into his eyes. “Thank you.”

Ansel started unbuttoning Fitch’s shirt, one button at a time. He pushed the fabric off until Fitch was naked from the waist up. With a sexy little hum, Ansel combed his fingers through his chest hair, tugging gently.

“I love your hairy chest,” Ansel said.

Something about the way he put extra emphasis on
love
caught Fitch’s heart.

Ansel pressed a kiss there, then swirled his tongue over the nipple just beneath until it tightened.

“Are you going to torture me all night?”

“Not
all
night.” Ansel laughed and the cool air fanned Fitch’s other nipple into the same reaction as its twin. “Just until you’re begging.”

With nimble fingers, Ansel flipped open Fitch’s pants and lowered the zipper while his lips played on his collarbone.

“That’s not gonna take long.”

Not long at all. Especially when Ansel slipped a hand into his boxers and gripped his throbbing cock in a sure fist. On the first pull, Fitch was already cursing to the ceiling. All his uncertainty about bottoming forgotten. As long as it was Ansel touching him, he didn’t give a fuck whose cock was in whose ass. Whichever way they made love, it would always feel amazing.

* * *

Ansel kept a tight hold on his libido and took his time undressing Fitch. He wanted tonight to be good. He needed to show Fitch the best part of bottoming.

He shoved the jeans and boxers down Fitch’s thighs and knelt to pull them off. Naked, Fitch looked down at him, his stomach sucked in and his chest still like he was holding his breath. Then Ansel mouthed the head of Fitch’s cock and all that pent-up air burst out of the guy in a low whine that drove Ansel crazy.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing those amazing lips around my cock,” Fitch said, his tone guttural and desperate in a way that fired Ansel’s blood.

He licked again. “Sucking you is one of my favorite things so I guess it works out for both of us.”

Fitch played with the loose strands of hair near Ansel’s temple. With a quick swipe from balls to slit, Ansel tongued the length until Fitch’s abs trembled. With one hand, he palmed the sack hanging between Fitch’s thick thighs and felt those muscles twitch at each caress.

The air grew thick around them, a mix of his perfume and the faint scents of sex and sweat. The candles Fitch lit earlier gave the room a romantic glow that suited the situation. He’d never been one for romance, but tonight was about more than just getting off. Tonight was about connection, and Ansel wanted to make sure they were on the same page. If he could make Fitch feel as good as
he
felt...Well, he was still a little too scared to put his wishes into words.

He closed his eyes and concentrated his efforts. He sucked and stroked in choreographed moves, up and down Fitch’s length while gently massaging the sack in his hand.

“Angel. Oh fuck.” The fingers in his hair tightened a fraction and he snapped his gaze up to see Fitch’s face scrunched into a mask of pleasure.

His own dick throbbed behind the zipper of his suit pants and he groaned. Fitch glanced down at the sound. When their eyes met, Fitch fisted his hair until it stung, those full lips parting as Fitch sucked in a breath. He whipped his hips back and forth in a crazed desperation until the balls in Ansel’s palm constricted.

Goddamn
,
that was hot.
Ansel’s chest swelled with heat and affection as he stared into Fitch’s eyes. But he couldn’t let the night end so soon.

Instead of following through and allowing Fitch to climax, Ansel slowed the pace. Pressing two fingers into the stretch of skin just behind the sack, he gave the cock one final kiss.

“Don’t stop.”

“That was just the beginning, Grumpy Bear.”

He stood and pressed a small kiss to Fitch’s lips before adding, “Lie down.”

Fitch swallowed but didn’t argue. He moved into position so his head rested on a pillow, looking at Ansel expectantly. Standing at the foot of the bed, Ansel unfastened his pants. And if his hands trembled a little, he ignored it just like he did when he stepped out onstage. Nerves had to be expected when something mattered as much as this did, but he’d always been good at dealing with the pressure. Of course, nothing in his life had ever been as important as this. And he’d certainly never been anyone’s first before.

He took his time, moving to a song only he could hear because he knew Fitch enjoyed watching him dance. Plus, it helped him relax. Eventually falling into a familiar rhythm, he kicked off the slacks and shimmied his lace-clad hips while playing with the tie still around his neck.

“Damn, the way you move...” The pleasure in Fitch’s voice made him mad with pent-up desire. But seeing him reach down to squeeze his own package like he was afraid he’d come just from watching Ansel dance, well fuck, that was unbeatable.

With a quick breath, Ansel pushed off his shorts and climbed on the bed to join his lover. Like his heart, their kiss was frantic. They grasped at each other, clutching skin and muscle, raking fingers into flesh. Desperate, like they both understood the gravity of what was about to happen, and they were both overcome with need for it. If he were honest, it was hard to breathe, not because of the frenzy of desire, but because his throat was tight with emotion.

Ansel struggled to regain his composure. Slowing down, even just a little, felt like he was dying of thirst and Fitch was the only cure. Just because he couldn’t help himself, he sucked Fitch’s throat, then his chest, his belly button, then his pelvic bone. With each kiss, Fitch’s panting slowed, but his moaning grew louder.

“Knees up,” Ansel murmured between kisses.

Fitch complied, raising his head enough to make eye contact. His mouth hung open, his cheeks ruddy.

“I’m going to show you how good this can feel.” Ansel maneuvered himself between Fitch’s legs.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Ansel’s tongue was made of magic. Fitch’s hips surged up without conscious effort because what his lover was doing felt so damn good. His cock leaked steadily onto his tense abs, and his thighs hadn’t stopped trembling since Ansel began.

It seemed like Ansel had been at it for hours. His appreciative moans were muffled because his face was pressed so deep, but they still stirred Fitch’s passion higher. Impossibly high. Any minute now and he’d fly apart. Every slight wisp of air across his cockhead tightened his balls painfully.

“Angel,” he chanted over and over again.

His body couldn’t make up its mind, to seek the pleasure or to run from it. It was too intense. He fought with himself, thrusting up then back, and up then back, in constant conflict. But Ansel held on, both arms wrapped around his thighs, his long and slender fingers digging with a strong grip, spreading him open.

Christ, he had never been so vulnerable before, with everything on display. He let his head fall back to the pillow as sweat beaded on his forehead. Watching Ansel’s partially buried face just pushed him higher.

“God, fuck,” he groaned while clutching the sheet near his hip.

Somehow, his lover swirled his tongue just right and caused Fitch to shout and vault up again. At his reaction, Ansel chuckled but didn’t stop. Their combined hunger and panting breaths, the curses and moans, every grunt and holler, heightened his desire until he was right at the peak, ready to come without anything touching his cock. Just one more thrust of that sweet tongue and he would die.

But, as if he knew, Ansel withdrew. Following one slow, gentle swipe, he slid up to his knees and kissed Fitch’s pelvic bone when he whined.

Yes, he fucking whined. Like a goddamn child. His balls ached, his muscles were so heavy he couldn’t move, and his cock was ready to split itself in two. So, yes, he whined. And if he didn’t get some relief soon, he might even cry. But, his lover just smiled and massaged his thigh while he reached to the drawer and pulled out the lube.

“Not much longer.” Ansel’s soothing voice calmed Fitch enough to realize what was coming next.

He tensed at the pop of the cap.

Ansel immediately focused the full intensity of his eyes directly on him. “I’ll take it slow. No pain, I swear.” He squeezed a healthy dollop of gel onto his fingers without breaking eye contact.

Mouth dry, Fitch labored to get the words out. “I know. I want you inside me.”

Those green eyes heated, the lids drooping seductively just as Ansel’s slick fingers found his asshole. Because of the foreplay, he was already relaxed enough that the first digit didn’t hurt.

“Nice,” Ansel whispered. “That’s it, just stay loose for me.”

With his dry hand, he rubbed Fitch’s flank. And it was a little embarrassing that the action went a long way toward calming him down. Though it was nice seeing Ansel be so sweet and caring. If he wasn’t already in complete and utter love with the man, this moment would have pushed him to it.

Ansel took his time, spending minutes stretching him with one finger, then two. Scissoring and twisting before adding more lube and another digit. His ass stung, but not in a bad way. It was a tightness that warmed and pulled until all his focus was on that point, on feeling more of the sweet burn. He wanted to be full.

“Damn, you’re so hot.” Ansel’s tone was full of awe as he pulled his hand away. “I think I could spend a lifetime like this.”

Fitch’s stomach tightened and his pulse raced, captured by Ansel’s confession.

A
lifetime
.

I
love you.
Stay with me.

Ansel ripped open the condom and rolled it over his cock.

“Ready?”

Mouth full of things he didn’t want to spill out, Fitch nodded.

Ansel positioned himself and bit his bottom lip, still smudged from their kiss. He glanced down to where their bodies were about to join, then looked up. Their eyes connected and he didn’t look away even while he slowly forced the head of his cock through the breach.

“Push out for me,” Ansel grunted.

Fitch obeyed, every ounce of air in his lungs rushing out through his lips as Ansel penetrated him. He lifted his hips and welcomed the invasion.

This.

God yes. It was like finding his way home after decades of being lost.

Just as his lover had promised, it didn’t hurt. Not really. Ansel went so slow, so steady that by the time he was balls deep, sweat had pebbled on his chest. Fitch had the bizarre urge to lick him there, to taste the salty evidence of effort and control. His cock twitched and the echoed ripple in his ass made him groan.

Braced above him with shaking arms, and blond hair hanging limply around a taut but beautiful face, Ansel waited. And all Fitch could do was stare up at his lover in awe. He really was an angel. With the glow of the candles reflecting off his skin, and the unrecognizable look in his eyes, he looked like heaven. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved, they didn’t blink.

And then his dancer smirked. “Jesus, Grumpy Bear, you’ve got one tight ass.”

Fitch’s heart grew even bigger and on his puff of laughter, Ansel thrust so the sound ended on a long moan.

“You are such a goddamn smart-ass.” Fitch pulled his lover down so they were chest to chest.

He loved this man. He really did, and somehow he’d find a way to tell him. A way that made certain Ansel didn’t run away.

Ansel’s hips plunged and retreated in shallow, gentle movements while they tangled together. Sandwiched between them, Fitch’s cock leaked his joy, making an ever-loving mess. Neither of them cared. They were both covered in sweat, lube, saliva, and precome. He rubbed his hairy calves over Ansel’s smooth thighs, enjoying the contrast, the strength. He tilted his hips up for more because having his lover inside him had become the greatest thing in his life.

He clutched at Ansel’s flexing, powerful ass, urging him faster, harder. Ansel murmured incoherently as they kissed, demonstrating the passion of their mating through grunts and sighs. Fitch responded, echoing the noises, only louder.

He seized Ansel’s hair and bit his ear, grinding his cock up for more friction. Ansel cursed and reached down to lift Fitch’s hips. The new angle pushed Ansel’s dick even deeper and ignited a cascade of fireworks behind Fitch’s eyes.

Holy shit.

His body quaked involuntarily.

Ansel licked his throat, then whispered, “Prostate,” before doing the same move again and again and again until Fitch’s entire body electrified and his chanting became a perpetual hum.

Fuck. It felt too good. Ansel’s heavy body, his words, the connection. It was overwhelming. Christ, his heart was going to burst. His body would disintegrate. He whipped his head to the side and sucked in air.

“Can’t,” he muttered. Still holding Ansel like a lifeline.

“Too much?”

“Yeah. Yes. Oh fuck.”

Ansel kissed his eyebrow. “You want me to stop?”

The idea killed him. “Hell no,” he forced out. Another hard thrust and he gasped, “Don’t stop.”

“I’ve got you,” Ansel said. “You can break. Even if you shatter into a million pieces, I’ll put you back together.”

And there it was, the very thing that broke him. Fitch sobbed. He tucked his face into his lover’s neck and let himself burst. His orgasm ripped through him, wave after wave of bliss. His cock throbbed with the release; jets of warm semen covered both of their stomachs. His anus convulsed around Ansel’s cock, and on the tail end of his own climax, he felt his lover’s rhythmic movements stutter.

When Ansel cried out in surrender and collapsed over him, Fitch gathered him close and kissed his hair.

“We’ll put each other back together, Angel.”

* * *

“Is it always like that?” Fitch’s quiet question stirred Ansel’s damp hair. Limbs still too heavy to move he tried to tip his head to catch his lover’s eye.

“Bottoming?”

“Yeah.”

Ansel smiled and slid off enough so he could remove the condom and toss it into the basket near the bed. When he was done, he fell back onto Fitch’s chest and traced circles through the hair.

“Is it always like what?”

“Intense.”

Pride filled his chest. Combined with the post-orgasm high he was careless and dopey, so he told the truth.

“Only ever with you.”

Fitch’s arm tightened around him, his heart thudding under Ansel’s ear.

“Angel—” It was the same fearful, tortured tone Fitch had used before, and a piece of Ansel wanted to ease his lover’s worry, to make everything better.

But he didn’t know how. He’d never been in this position before. On the verge of something so great he couldn’t quite believe it was real. What if he fucked it up like he did everything else in his life? What if he got so fucking close to the rainbow only to have it ripped away?

That would hurt like a motherfucker.

He grazed Fitch’s nipple with his teeth to distract them both before Fitch said whatever it was he wanted to say.

“Glad to know I rocked your world, Grumpy Bear. Hopefully, we’ll do it again sometime.”

Fitch’s smile tickled his forehead. “Anytime you want.”

They cuddled in silence while the candles burned low. Even though the lights were still on, neither of them seemed inclined to move. Just as his eyes started to drift shut, Fitch spoke.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. I mean, you said yourself my place has enough space.” He brushed some hair behind Ansel’s ear. “You could always stay with me if you can’t find another apartment. Or just, if you wanted to. Or whatever.”

Cannonballs.

It was ridiculous how easily his heart seemed to flip these days, or how happy a simple sentence could make him.

He lifted himself up and looked into Fitch’s earnest face doing his best not to betray his excitement. “You want me to stay here?”

Fitch nodded. “Yeah, I mean, you can. I just wanted to offer the option.”

“Like live with you?” What happened to the air in the room?

“Well—” Fitch took a deep, unsteady breath and looked Ansel straight in the eyes “—yes.”

Ansel was quiet for moment, letting Fitch’s words, and his actions over the past few weeks, sink in.

“It’s just another choice, you know. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I’d...” Fitch paused and took another breath. “I’d love to have you here, but I know it might be too soon. So, whatever you need. Okay?”

Whatever he needed? What about what Fitch needed?

“Thank you. But how would I get to work?”

Fitch blinked in surprise then moved so he could rest against the head board. “I could drive you at first, and there are buses and trains that go into the city every hour. Do you have your license?”

“No, I never needed one. I’ve lived on the streets since I was old enough to drive.”

“Right, well, I could teach you, if it’s something you want to learn.”

“You’d teach me how to drive?”

The crease appeared again. “Of course. If it’s something you want, I’ll teach you even if you don’t move in with me.”

Move in with Fitch.

Ansel looked around the bedroom, imagining his stuff scattered around. His design aesthetic and colorful approach would change the space. And he found the idea didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.

He sat up and mirrored Fitch’s position. Holding Fitch’s hand, he said, “I’d enjoy knowing how to drive. I’ll consider the rest.”