With Everything I Have (8 page)

“Did I die in that red auto this afternoon?”
Sebastian asked him blankly. “Is this Heaven? Am I dreaming?”

“I have wanted to make you feel the way you
make me feel.” Peter was cross, but only until Sebastian kicked
himself into motion and sat back at the other end of the sofa. Then
Peter’s eyes skipped over him, lingering on the aroused cock
ruining the line of his trousers.

With incredible slowness, Peter sat up. He
left himself half-naked without care but took his time before
tugging at the bottom of Sebastian’s shirt. Sebastian knew this was
no dream when Peter pulled his shirt from him then, far too serious
in manner, stopped again.

“I will be bad at this,” Peter told him as
his hands slipped down Sebastian’s chest. “You must expect that.
You must not judge me harshly.”

“Peter.” It took effort to speak, to focus on
more than rage at a man years dead and the intense rush of desire
at even the idea of Peter’s mouth on him. Sebastian took Peter’s
hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He met Peter’s gaze.
“You will be bad at this,” Sebastian told him just as seriously, in
the exact way that he explained to Peter what to expect at every
dinner party and what kinds of polite conversation he ought to make
with strangers. “You will be bad, and some things about it you
might not like. And I will not mind, because it will also be good.”
He kissed Peter’s hand again. There was a tremor in his voice. “It
will be very good.”

Precious, wonderful Peter took Sebastian at
his word, or kept his doubts to himself. His hands were callused
without being rough and he was attempting to be gentle. Sebastian
shifted his legs apart and Peter took over the space, leaning on
one knee to get close enough to exhale under Sebastian’s ear.

Sebastian splayed a hand over Peter’s stomach
without applying any force and Peter nodded before moving on, his
lips just a whisper over Sebastian’s skin. “You have had a lot of
time to learn my body,” Peter observed, making Sebastian shudder,
“I will have to catch up.”

“Please, Peter.” Sebastian did not know his
own voice. He’d barely been touched and he was already shaking. A
boy again, for the moment. Perhaps that was as it should be. Peter
pressed his open mouth to his chest and gave him a short, fierce
kiss. Sebastian leaned into him. He tried to draw Peter’s eyes up
but Peter was licking over each of his nipples and running his
fingertips over the waist of his trousers. “Please.”

Peter flicked a look up at him, his eyebrows
drawn together. “Do not beg for me,” he insisted, his tone too
measured for a man with his own seed in his mouth.

“I will do what I please,” Sebastian chided
him. He raised his hand and Peter took hold of his wrist. He licked
at Sebastian’s fingertips and Sebastian heaved a breath and put his
head back. Peter curled his tongue around his fingers. Sebastian
closed his eyes. “Yes, that. That is it exactly, Peter.”

“Will you last long if I try to suck your
prick?” Peter inquired, bending his head and leaving Sebastian to
claw at the sofa with his free hand.

“No.” Sebastian honestly did not think he
would. “You have me, ah—” Peter ran his fingers down his member as
if it were a tool he were thinking of using. Sebastian shut his
eyes tight. “You have me excited. Do not tease me, please.”

“I have scarcely done anything. “ Peter
whined at him, upset he would not get to explore at his leisure.
Sebastian felt blindly at Peter until he found his shoulder. He
pulled Peter in and then hitched forward at the sensation of
Peter’s breath on his still-wet skin. Peter put his hungry mouth to
use under Sebastian’s ear, sucking a hard kiss to the sensitive
spot while he wrapped his hand around Sebastian’s cock and gave it
a rough stroke through his trousers.

Sebastian petted over him and longed to push
his head down. He groaned weakly for the faint press of Peter’s
teeth at his throat and the slow glide of Peter’s hand. Peter was
intent on learning him. He shivered and fell against the arm of the
sofa. Peter followed him, sliding his mouth down his chest. “I
promise you all the time you want later. Will that do?” Sebastian’s
heart in his ears was deafening. “Ah, Peter, you have me a boy
again.”

Peter muttered something, possibly obscene,
possibly confused, but then stole Sebastian’s breath and ability to
reason by sliding closer to almost straddle his lap. Sebastian
opened his eyes. Peter stared back at him.

“We did this too, then,” Peter whispered and
put a hand to the side of Sebastian’s face to kiss him. Sebastian
opened his mouth and Peter licked at his lips in a manner he had
only now learned. Sebastian was a blessed man.

“Yes.” Sebastian would have agreed to
anything for more of that but Peter inched his head away.

“Like the things you do to me, you caress
until I cannot stand the pleasure,” Peter remarked and returned to
sucking harsh, hot kisses into Sebastian’s skin. “Is it good?” He
seemed almost drunk, or perhaps that was Sebastian. Sebastian was
floating until the downward drag of Peter’s teeth along his stomach
made him hiss and push forward for more. Peter hummed. “I want it
to be good for you, Bash.”

“It is good.” Sebastian tugged at Peter’s
collar, urging his head down to make that clear, and Peter shocked
him by sliding his fingers under his trousers and shoving them out
of his way. He freed Sebastian’s cock, glancing up once as though
still expecting rejection. He did not find it. His ears were red,
his lips wet and open. Sebastian thought subtlety would not do
Peter any good and pushed his hips up, reminding Peter of the cock
frustratingly close to his mouth. “I will not mind your
inexperience, I promise. I swear.”

Peter’s tongue was curious. One swipe and
Sebastian groaned, “Have mercy on me.” Peter wrapped a hand around
the base Sebastian’s cock before returning to put his tongue to
use. Sebastian wrapped a hand over his, holding firm and stroking
up once before letting go. Peter stared at him, but he listened,
imitating the act several times, with greater confidence each time.
The dragging suction of his mouth was slow and deliberate and
better than Sebastian had ever imagined. “Peter.” He exhaled the
name and instantly regretted it.

Peter pulled away to consider him. He was
still unsure no matter how wonderful his mouth felt. Sebastian took
hold of Peter’s hand and moved it for him, up and down, the
pressure exquisite. “Don’t leave me to wait any longer.”

Peter noticed. “I won’t,” he agreed thickly
and lowered his head again, swallowing around the head of
Sebastian’s cock and allowing Sebastian to guide his hand along the
shaft. It took everything not to thrust into his mouth, to stay
still as Peter learned the taste of him and the places that made
Sebastian’s fingers tighten in his hair. Then when Sebastian
thought he could take no more, that he had to shut his eyes or come
in Peter’s mouth, Peter hummed.

Peter choked, of course he did, spunk
exploding from his mouth since Sebastian had not warned him. He had
not had a chance to. Peter’s eyes were sparkling as he came up, his
face a mess, but he barely slowed. Sebastian wanted to think, to
apologise, to explain, but Peter grinned at him, grinned as he only
ever did with the wind in his hair, and then ducked his head back
down to draw more seed onto his tongue.

He rose up onto his knees and leaned in, his
hand at Sebastian’s neck, his breathing noisy. Sebastian gathered
him in and kept him there, close. In a moment there would be
questions, frowns, more talk, but for now there was this.

“Here you are,” Sebastian told him, running
his hands over him without grace, “Beautiful.”

Peter shivered from the word but stayed,
weary and sated, against Sebastian’s shoulder. “Bash,” he answered,
sweet with longing, and did not seem aware that he had not yet
pulled away.

~~~

Sebastian woke at the shrill sound of a
ringing telephone. There was a noticeable chill at his side. He did
not move though the scent of the room told him he was in Peter’s
bed and a quiet murmur indicated he was not alone. It was not his
first time waking in Peter’s room, although he could not recall
ever feeling quite so physically tired, as if he could sleep for
hours longer.

Without opening his eyes, he considered
getting up, and shivered with each faint breeze that washed over
him, the result of motion somewhere else in the room. Peter working
most likely. Nice of him not to wake Sebastian.

Sebastian rescinded the thought a few seconds
later when the metal mouthpiece was pushed into his hand. Peter was
standing over him when Sebastian opened his eyes. He shoved the
rest of the heavy phone at him and forced him up into a sitting
position.

“Your mother,” Peter informed him tightly,
head down at a guilty angle. Sebastian’s mother had that effect on
Peter. Sebastian’s mother had that effect on most people. Sebastian
mostly would have preferred to not talk to her while naked.

He looked down, coming more awake as he
realized he was completely naked in Peter’s bed. That was
sufficiently unusual to make him take a moment to recall the events
of the night—and the day—before. Once given very vocal permission
to do so, Peter had set to understanding everything about
Sebastian’s body with disturbing thoroughness. Sebastian was on top
of the bedding, stark naked because Peter had insisted he undress
for the explorations of Peter’s hands, and on the bed because
Sebastian had wanted to be comfortable for that. It had seemed
warmer. But then, Peter had been studying him with earnest
dedication while making free with his person; they could have been
outside in January and Sebastian probably wouldn’t have felt the
cold.

Sebastian cleared the sleep from his throat
and watched Peter sit at the chair in front of his desk. Peter was
wearing an undershirt and trousers with braces slung casually up
over his shoulders. There were bruises scattered over his throat.
He was sketching. Sebastian spoke into the telephone without taking
his eyes from him.

“Good morning, Mother.” Of course she had
tried to reach him here when he had not answered at his flat. He
did not want to imagine what she and Peter had talked about before
he’d been handed the phone. His mother had seen the need for love
in Peter the first time Sebastian had brought him home, but
Sebastian had always believed she thought of Peter as the lost
cause who was hurting her son. Now he knew that wasn’t entirely
true if she had been having Peter over for tea on a semi-regular
basis. He didn’t know what to think about that, or when it had
started, but there was no conceivable way of explaining the events
of last night to her. Not even someone from his scandalous family
wanted to weather that conversation.

“Sebastian.” His mother did not waste time.
“I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. I should have tried
Peter’s first.”

“Very probably. He keeps telling me to leave
and yet here I am.” It wasn’t the wisest joke to make. His mother
starting demanding explanations in a ringing, strident voice and
Peter glanced at him, his cheeks red with some emotion that he
would deny having. Sebastian started to smile then noticed the tea
tray on Peter’s desk. That tea tray meant that Smythe had come in
here while Sebastian had been sleeping naked in Peter’s bed.

Sebastian wasn’t going to imagine it. He
wasn’t. It was simply too early in the day to be worrying about
what the old man thought of him or Peter would have said to explain
it. He did not think Peter would lie, not to Smythe, but surely
even Peter knew how beyond the pale it was to leave your naked male
lover out for anyone, even someone as tolerant as Smythe, to see.
Peter had certainly never done it before. There had to be some
explanation for it other than Peter’s carelessness about the rules
of polite society but Sebastian had no time to dwell on the
issue—or how he was going to be able to look Smythe in the eye from
now on.

“What, Mother?” Sebastian cut her off when
she paused for air, because while he could agree that she might
have once had something to worry about, she was wrong to fret over
this. The situation had changed. It was no longer Sebastian
eternally drawn to Peter with Peter resisting, it was Peter drawn
to Sebastian, Peter who had also resisted, Peter who had kissed
Sebastian and touched him and slept in his bed with him. “Please
don’t,” Sebastian murmured when he heard her small, shocked inhale,
as if he had done something by interrupting her that he had never
done before. “Mother…” he hesitated, wondering again what Peter had
said to Smythe this morning as well as what he had said on all the
other mornings when Sebastian hadn’t been there. “I thought he
didn’t want me here but he does,” Sebastian told her simply when no
other words seemed to fit. Peter released a long, shaky breath but
kept his eyes down.

Peter wanted Sebastian to be happy. Peter
wanted to touch him. Peter was listening to every word Sebastian
said and mulling it over in that maddening mind of his.

“Dinner tonight. Tell him he will be there,”
his mother hissed, not at all softened by the words. “If he cares
for you he can be at your side. Not all the time. I am willing to
allow for that. But he can’t leave you alone. Tell him.”

“How many people?” Sebastian asked so he
could get Peter used to the idea. He eased back against the
headboard when he learned it would be less than five. Less than
five should not frighten Peter too much.

“Sebastian.” His mother was no humor for
Sebastian’s warm thoughts. “You will ensure that he is comfortable
and keep him from nervously knocking over a soup tureen.” It was
not a polite request. Sebastian wondered vaguely if she and Peter
spoke to each other in declarative statements and observations when
they had those teas, then abandoned the thought and focused on the
concern in his mother’s voice.