Authors: Cjane Elliott
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Gay, #New Adult, #Contemporary
“Ignore them,” Matthew said.
“I was planning to.” Despite his anger, Pete had no desire to challenge a bunch of good ol’ boys. His eyes widened when he saw Bud and Jed come through the door, Bud looking mad as hell.
“Who you callin’ faggot?” Bud demanded, stepping in front of the group and blocking their path. Jed came to stand by him, muscled arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Hey, cool it, Doremus,” one of the guys said. “Just havin’ a little fun.”
“Fuck you, Welburn, that’s my cousin, you homophobic asshole.”
Pete realized the three guys were members of the rugby team with Bud and Jed. He and Matthew stood still, watching the drama unfold.
“Guess you better watch your back, then,” snorted another guy. The grin on his weaselly face died when Jed stepped forward and grabbed a handful of his T-shirt.
“You might need to watch
your
back, dickhead,” Jed said in a steely voice. “I’m gay too.”
“Uh, okay.” The guy tried to take a step back, but Jed held on until Bud touched his arm.
“Come on, man. We made our point.”
Welburn and the other guy had already taken off, as did weasel face as soon as Jed released him.
Bud whacked Jed on the shoulder. “My homie! Running off the bad guys, you badass mofo.”
“Shut up.” Jed’s cheeks were red, but his face showed the hint of a smile.
Pete felt Matthew’s hand brush his as they approached, but he didn’t take it. It was awkward enough seeing Jed for the first time since that awful conversation in his dorm room without throwing his new relationship into his face.
“Hey, thanks, guys.” He wasn’t quite able to look Jed in the eye.
“No problem, bro,” Bud said. “No one gets to call my cuz a faggot and get away with it.”
“Pretty macho, both of you,” Matthew said. “I’ll know who to call next time I need some heads knocked together. So how was your spring break?”
Matthew and Bud chatted while Jed and Pete stood in awkward silence. Just when Pete couldn’t stand it any longer and was about to bring up rugby, of all things, Jed spoke.
“Sorry I missed your film fest. I was planning to come, but we had a game.”
“That’s okay, Bud couldn’t make it either.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Sure.”
They lapsed back into silence, fidgeting, while Bud and Matthew discussed how much it sucked that Charlottesville didn’t have Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Pete was relieved to see John strolling toward them, gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, what’s this?” John asked. “A nerd convention?”
“Speak for yourself, Borden,” Pete said. “Given you’ve seen
The Hobbit
now in every possible 3-D version.”
“That’s not a nerd movie!” John glared at Pete.
Matthew broke in. “You missed it. Bud and Jed were defending our honor with the rugby team.”
“Defending your—huh?”
“I’ll tell you inside.” Pete stepped away from Matthew to avoid any PDA in front of Jed, but turned to him and said, “Good luck with the thesis. I’ll bring you some coffee when I’m done here.”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Bye, guys,” Pete said to Bud and Jed and turned to follow John into the gym.
“Later, bro!” Bud called as the door shut behind them.
“Wow.” John eyed him. “You mind telling me what that was all about?”
“Some homophobes from the rugby team giving us shit and Jed and Bud got in their faces about it.”
“Okayyy….”
“Forget it. Time to work out.”
“Fine by me.”
Aidan came down the hall as they approached the weight room, clad only in a tight T-shirt and gym shorts, hair damp and curling around his neck, and Pete schooled his face not to show his embarrassment. They’d seen each other at U. Singers in the week since Professor R’s party but hadn’t spoken, and Pete had gotten the impression Aidan was avoiding him.
“Hi,” Aidan said with nothing near his usual blinding smile.
“Hey, there,” John said while Pete managed a nod in greeting.
Aidan continued on by them, a hint of his spicy scent lingering in the air.
“Well?” John asked.
“Well, what?” Pete threw his gym bag on a bench, wishing John weren’t so interested in his reactions to things.
“Oh, nothing. You do know that you’re well out of that mess, don’t you?”
“Yes.” His body might always react to Aidan’s presence, but he was over fantasizing about something more. Besides, he was with Matthew now.
“Good. Let’s work out.”
P
ETE
tiptoed up the stairs of the blue house, coffee in hand, hair damp from his postworkout shower. Matthew’s bedroom door was ajar. He cracked it open enough to peek in, and chuckled. Instead of working away at his desk, Matthew was sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep, laptop beside him.
Letting go of his plan to burst in yelling “Boo!” in order to make Matthew jump, Pete entered the room. He put the coffee on the nightstand and removed the laptop from the bed. Then he lay down next to his gorgeous boyfriend and snuggled in, kissing that yummy place at the base of his throat right next to his shoulder.
“Mmf.” Matthew shifted on the bed a fraction but showed no other signs of consciousness.
Pete worked his way up Matthew’s neck to his jaw and gently nipped it while Matthew continued to lie there like a sleeping angel. Pete admired the long sweep of his eyelashes as he nibbled on his earlobe. From this vantage point, the freckles on Matthew’s cheek were close enough to lick, so he did. He was running his hand through Matthew’s unruly curls when Matthew clamped his arm around Pete’s neck in a lightning ninja move and began to kiss him.
Pete pulled his mouth away eventually and smiled down at him. “You woke up.”
Matthew batted those long lashes. “I’ve been awake since you got in bed. I was enjoying your efforts to wake me. Or was that you molesting me in my sleep?”
“A little bit of both.”
“Kinky.” Matthew leered at him. “Get on top of me, ’kay?”
“Perv.” Pete rearranged himself so that he was lying on Matthew. “What happened to the thesis writing?”
“Sleep called. And now I’ve got my sexy, kinky boyfriend on top of me.”
“What a problem.”
“Yeahhhh.”
They kissed some more in the dim early-evening light. Pete felt Matthew’s hands grip his ass and he moved his hips in a slow grind, loving the way Matthew’s cock hardened against him. He wanted it in his mouth. But first, more kissing. Pete was determined to continue his quest to kiss each and every one of Matthew’s freckles before he died. He started in on Matthew’s right cheek but had to break away every few seconds to kiss his beautiful mouth, so the quest proceeded slowly.
Matthew provided additional distraction by kneading Pete’s butt while writhing against him and making all kinds of sexy humming noises. After one particularly delicious shimmy of Matthew’s hips, Pete abandoned the freckle quest to concentrate on the ever more heated friction happening between them. He answered Matthew’s wriggling with an enthusiastic hump, watching the color rise in his already rosy cheeks. Pete loved getting Matthew aroused just to see that flush—it made his eyes seem even bluer in contrast.
“I want to go down on you.” Pete enjoyed the effect of his words as Matthew’s lips parted and his eyelids dropped to half-mast.
“Okay.” Matthew’s voice was husky. “Who am I to deny such a sincere request?”
Pete rolled off him and gave his cock several firm strokes through his shorts. Matthew closed his eyes with a small groan and thrust back against Pete’s hand.
“Okay, you sexy beast. Thanks for wearing running shorts. They’re easy to remove.” Pete grabbed the waistband of Matthew’s shorts and pulled down, Matthew lifting his hips to help. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and his lovely naked cock lay hard against his belly.
“Oh yes.” Pete licked his lips and looked up Matthew’s body to find his eyes open again and on him. “You ready, big boy?”
“Suck me, baby.”
Pete fell to it. He took Matthew’s cock into his mouth, relishing the taste, glad he didn’t have to use a condom with him. Matthew had gotten himself tested earlier that year and was clean. The day after the film fest, Pete had gone to Student Health to get his own test, and was awaiting the results with impatience. He looked forward to foregoing condoms himself, although Matthew claimed to like the taste of the orange-flavored ones. They were planning to use condoms for anal in any case, if they ever got there. Pete was in no hurry and Matthew didn’t seem to be either.
Pete closed his eyes and sank his mouth down on Matthew’s cock. Matthew’s hips jerked. Pete pinned them with his hands as he swirled his tongue around the head. Matthew flung his arms back and grabbed the headboard, which gave Pete ideas about using handcuffs in the future. Sucking harder, he grabbed the base of Matthew’s cock with one hand while continuing to hold down his hip with the other. After a few moments, Matthew thrashed his head back and forth on the pillow and started babbling a string of incoherent words.
Pete’s dick hardened. He found it almost unbearably sexy when Matthew lost his mind as he approached orgasm. They’d gotten in lots of practice at oral sex in the last week, so Pete knew he was on the brink when Matthew started panting and going, “Ah, ah, ah, fuck!” A few seconds later, Matthew’s cock spasmed in his mouth and Pete swallowed down his come with a sense of satisfaction.
As Matthew let go of the headboard and dropped his arms with a groan, Pete kissed his wilting cock. “Later,” he whispered to it, then scooted up the bed to behold the effect of his ministrations.
Matthew lay in a boneless heap and gave him a sated smile. “God, son. You’re good at that.” His eyes fell shut.
Pete was content just to look at him, despite his own insistent hard-on. Matthew made him so happy that for the first time in his life, the world didn’t revolve around Pete’s cock. If all he got to do from here on out was give Matthew orgasms that put that smile on his face, he’d be fine.
He didn’t have to put his noble instincts for self-sacrifice to the test today, though. Matthew soon stirred, flipped him onto his back, pulled off his shorts, and returned the favor in full.
“O
NE
more toast to the happy couple.” Angie raised her glass in Matthew’s dining room as the latest blue house party—this one called April Follies—roared on around them. Cleo, John, and Brian followed suit, while Matthew poured more champagne for himself and Pete.
“Come on, Ang,” Pete protested, “we’ve been together a month already. When are you going to stop proposing toasts to us?”
“Never!”
“Jeez, we’re not getting married or anything.” But he raised his own glass nonetheless, his other hand clasped securely in Matthew’s.
“To happy endings,” Angie persisted. “And to Pete and I finding The One. Told you so!”
Pete bowed down to her. “To Angie, the sorceress, whose premonitions come true so often that it’s scary.”
Brian nodded in agreement while the rest of them raised their glasses to Angie.
Matthew tugged on Pete’s hand. “We’re not getting married?” he asked, giving him the sad eyes. “
I… I thought I meant more to you, darling.
”
“
You do, dearest. You’ll never know how much
….”
“Are they always like this?” Brian asked.
John smiled and shrugged. “You mean the bad romantic movie lines? Yeah, pretty much.”
“How dare you mock our love?” Matthew asked, eyes widening in faux shock. “It’s a rare and tender flower.”
“Hoo boy.” Brian held out his hand to Angie. “Let’s go sit on the screen porch so you can whisper some bad movie lines in my ear.”
“Wow, Brian,” Cleo said. “That’s the most suggestive thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“What can I say?” Brian asked as Angie giggled. “She inspires me.”
When Angie and Brian walked away, holding hands, Matthew murmured into Pete’s ear, “Let’s go in the den. I want to sing ‘You’re All I Need To Get By’ with you.”
“Yes, Tammi.” Pete jumped when Matthew pinched his ass.
Pete secretly agreed with Matthew about the love thing. While he would never call it a “rare and tender flower,” he knew he’d lucked out. He could write reams of bad poetry just describing Matthew’s face, a case in point being the particular smirk Matthew was giving him right now—the one where his eyes crinkled up and he looked like a devilish angel.
“We’re going to get our karaoke on,” he told John and Cleo and followed Matthew as he made his way across the living room.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” Cleo called after them.
They went through the beaded curtain. Parker and a friend were finishing up “Born This Way” while Aidan and a couple of other theater people stood up front looking through the selections.
Matthew leaned over and gave Pete a kiss. “I’ll go reserve our spot.” Pete watched him approach Aidan’s group and greet them. Aidan gave Matthew a one-armed hug and engaged him in an animated discussion with much waving of hands.
“Is it weird seeing them together like that?” said John’s voice in his ear.
“It’s… interesting.” Since the incident at Professor R’s party, he and Aidan had moved from barely acknowledging each other to friendly nods in passing, but it wasn’t how it used to be.
“You got the better deal,” Cleo said. “Matthew’s perfect.”
“That’s true,” Pete said.
Parker had finished his song, and Aidan took the microphone from him while Matthew fiddled with the karaoke machine. Aidan began singing “Someone Like You,” his lovely tenor ringing out, and while Pete was sick of Adele by now, he had to admit Aidan’s rendition was beautiful. And so was Aidan.
That’s why I fell for him
, Pete realized with sudden insight.
Aidan is beauty. Or he makes beauty
.
Something like that.
Aidan’s voice continued to rise and fall in its mesmerizing journey, and Pete waited for the familiar Aidan longing to capture him. It didn’t. In its place came John’s long-ago question:
What have you learned from being around Aidan?
And an answer instantly appeared:
That it’s okay to devote my life to making something beautiful
.