Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

STARTING THE NEW YEAR

“They’re keeping me until tomorrow, just in case,” Aaron says. “But my doctor said I was lucky. She didn’t find anything serious.”

“I’m so sorry…” Dale says with sad puppy eyes.

Aaron stops him before that goes any further. “There is nothing to be sorry about. It was my own damn fault, not yours. I didn’t look before I stepped back into the road. It’s the first thing every child learns, but I’ve gotten out of the habit of it.”

There’s the tiniest scrape on his cheek, not even large enough for a bandage. It feels so odd, all prickly and sharp.

“I’m starting to think this isn’t a good idea,” Dale says, looking down at his feet.

“Now you’re just being silly,” Aaron says, distracted. He pokes gently at the scrape and winces with the pain. Pain , he realizes, when was the last time anything hurt ? “The thing we have is far too good to give up now.”

“Don’t pick at that, or it will never heal,” Dale directs, walking over and pulling his hand away. “You don’t want to leave a scar.”

A scar , Aaron ponders. Imagine that. What about a tattoo? Is that possible now? He never even considered it, certain that the universe would intervene and do something terrible to the tattoo artist.

He drops his hand to his lap and turns his attention fully to Dale. “Sweet man, please go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine. I’ll be home tomorrow and we can hash everything out then. It’s very late, and I’m actually feeling tired. We should both get some rest, but I would like to see if the universe will grant us another kiss before you go. Just a little one, to tide me over.”

Dale looks so relieved it’s hard to watch. The man is an open book, Aaron realizes, and that’s part of what makes him so adorable. Aaron reaches over and weaves his fingers into Dale’s beard, gently cupping the chin that’s hidden within. Then he guides him over and gives him a firm, unapologetic kiss.

“There,” he says, releasing Dale. “Our second kiss wasn’t quite as romantic as the first, but I’m sure the third will be even better. Now off with you, off to your new house, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When Dale leaves, Aaron is left with his turbulent thoughts. There are so many questions. Could he actually do this? Could he start checking both ways before crossing the street, and everything that implies? And would it be permanent? Would Dale blunt his luck for good? As he’s drifting off to sleep, he wonders: but would that, all told, be any worse?

Aaron wakes uncommonly optimistic. It’s been a long time since he felt that way, and he realizes that sometime in the night, he’s made a decision. He’s not going to give up on this challenge without a fight. There must be a way to find a happy medium with his burly neighbor. Maybe they could find a way to merge their talents, perhaps start a business, together make the best of both of their gifts. Money would be no problem, of course, and Dale would be perfect for anything public-facing, but they’d have to keep him safe, build in some type of guard rails, with whatever venture they decide to create together.

Look at me, he chides himself as he heads off to the bathroom, already making wedding plans after a couple of kisses. Those kisses were something exceptional, though…

When he wanders back, Dale has installed himself immovably at his bedside, brandishing coffees and pastries.

“Woof woof!” Dale jokes. “That is one perfect tan line you have there. Yum. How do you line up your swimsuit so perfectly?”

“It just happens…”

“...all by itself. I should have guessed.”

Aaron is suddenly self-conscious about his butt hanging out of his gown. Not that he isn’t proud of it, but he doesn’t really want to give the entire floor a show. He goes to tie up the back, but Dale warns, “Not on your life...”

This pleases Aaron more than he cares to admit, so he purposely ignores the completely open side of the bed, instead squeezing through the crowded space between Dale and the other side. He dithers with the sheets, taking his time and leaning over to plump the pillows, giving Dale the full show.

“Go ahead,” Aaron whispers. “Nobody’s looking.”

He feels a whiskery tickle on his butt and a sweet little kiss on one cheek. A shiver runs all the way up to the tip-top of his head.

When he climbs into the bed, Dale is sitting, mouth open and speechless, totally moonstruck. Just for good measure, Aaron reaches down and rearranges his cock. It still hasn’t totally come down from his morning wood and the gown hides nothing. Aaron raises an eyebrow and Dale gets the picture soon enough. He slips his hand under the sheet, and Aaron feels meaty fingers stroking up and down the length of his cock.

“Damn, Aaron, I knew you were big, but that monster is a…”

The nurse walks in, a cute bearish fellow in loose scrubs, interrupting Dale mid-metaphor. Aaron has heard it all over the years: anaconda, firehose, hard salami, and once with a particularly receptive bottom, Train à Grande Vitesse . The nurse glances from one to the other, understanding the situation at a glance. “You boys need anything?” he asks with a knowing smile as Dale reluctantly removes his hand. “I see you already have something tasty for breakfast.”

“No,” Aaron says, pulling up the blankets to cover the obvious tent he’s forming in the sheet. “I think we’re good to go.”

“Great. The doctor should be in shortly, and hopefully you’ll be on your way.”

They both laugh when he leaves, closing the door.

As they’re having their breakfast, Aaron asks, “Shouldn’t you be at home? I thought the workers were starting.”

“It’s New Year’s Day,” Dale says with a mouth full of bear claw. “They’re starting tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe you’re having a touch of amnesia?”

“Not a problem, as long as I can remember that kiss.”

Dale finishes his bear claw, licking his fingers with relish, and suddenly has a hand free. He snakes it back under the covers, and Aaron feels him exploring the soft dusting of his pubic hairs and up to the tight strength of his stomach.

“I can’t get over your abs. Talk about chiseled…”

Again, the metaphor is cut off with a knock on the door, and the doctor enters. She blinks just once, then looks deliberately down at Aaron’s chart, giving Dale time to extract his hand. Damn it all, Aaron fumes, they need some privacy. This gives him a beyond-brilliant idea: Dale’s house is going to be a mess for weeks…

“Everything looks great,” the doctor says. “You can use over-the-counter pain relievers if you need them, and get some rest, but there don’t seem to be any major problems. After we finish the paperwork, maybe you can have your friend drive you home, just to be safe.”

After she goes, Dale tragically keeps his hands to himself. He says, “You can probably guess: I don’t drive. That’s tempting the Fates far too much. I called for a car this morning, so I’ll do the same to take us home.”

“Speaking of home…” Aaron starts.

“So I was thinking I could…” Dale continues at the same time, talking over Aaron.

They both stop, and Aaron says, “You first.”

“I was thinking I could help with meals and stuff like that, while you’re recovering.”

“Really, I’m fine,” Aaron says. “But I’d love that. In fact, I was going to ask you if you wanted to stay over at my place for a few days, while they have your house torn apart.”

Dale arrives at Aaron’s door with a gym bag of clothes and a big sack of groceries.

“Spaghetti tonight, my Mom’s recipe, and movies. I picked out some gratuitous action flicks and some slurpy gay romances. They’ll be mutual antidotes for each other, so we can alternate. You are not to leave that couch.”

“There’s room for two,” Aaron counters, wondering if there’s some way to skip directly from cooking to cuddling, but Dale has gone full mother hen and has it all planned out.

“I’m counting on it,” Dale says as his burly butt disappears into the kitchen. “Let me get you a beer, then I’ll get to cooking.”

The smoke alarm goes off only once, and Aaron can’t tell if it was a glass or a plate that broke, but soon enough they’re installed in front of his widescreen, watching car chases and explosions, devouring spaghetti. After a few bites, Aaron realizes that the marinara is sublime, far better than anything he’s made himself. He’s always been lucky in the kitchen—gourmet dishes seemingly construct themselves under his nimble fingers—but Dale’s sauce has a spicy edge he can’t quite place and just a tinge of scorching, giving it something mature and unexpected.

“Ginger,” Dale says. “Just between you and me, it’s Mom’s secret.”

When it’s time for dessert, it’s also time to switch movies to something more romantic. Dale whisks away the plates and returns with little bowls of spumoni. They settle close together and even before the bowls are empty, the hands start to wander.

On screen, the lonely hero gets his numbers crossed while waiting for his turn at the DMV, setting up the inevitable clash with the grumpy love interest. On the couch, Aaron sneaks his hand over onto Dale’s leg and stealthily creeps upward, but when he approaches his destination, the way is blocked. The bulge in Dale’s jeans is enormous.

Aaron sits up and turns to look. Dale is watching him, amused, obviously wondering what he’s going to do next. Aaron explores with both hands, feeling the contours, big and firm and round, not at all like his own inevitable snaky bulge.

“What do you have packed away in there?” Aaron asks.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Aaron is, in fact, itching to find out, so he undoes the top button. “Button fly,” he observes as he moves further. “That’s a fun challenge. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You know it. Zippers and dicks are a bad combination for guys like me. I learned that way back.”

Aaron winces, imagining a horror he’s never experienced himself.

Two more buttons down, he discovers, to his delight, that Dale isn’t wearing any underwear. A dense forest of hair springs up. He stops and savors the moment, dipping down to bury his nose and breathe in the spicy scent of man and sweat and arousal. Aaron feels Dale’s thick fingers sneak into his hair, holding him fast in the sensual jungle.

Heady from the intoxicating wash of aromas, Aaron gets back to work. With another two buttons, Dale’s cock pops out, completely hard and demanding attention. He’s not large, certainly not as large as Aaron’s impatiently straining cock, but more than enough to be a mouthful. As Aaron is admiring, Dale shudders and pumps out a glistening drop of precum. It sits like a crystal ball foretelling the pleasures ahead, but threatens to drool down into his pubes, wasted. Can’t have that, Aaron’s greedy tongue demands, diving in to have a taste. It’s delicious, salty and sweet, a perfect after-dinner treat.

“Enjoying yourself down there?” Dale says, watching with interest. “Be warned, I have big balls.”

Aaron undoes the last button, but, puzzled and vaguely disappointed, all he can see is Dale’s perfectly vertical dick poking straight up out of a thatch of dark hair.

“Here, let me help,” Dale says, shimmying his pants down a few inches. Then he does the big reveal, hefting his balls out and laying them out on the jeans.

Aaron’s jaw drops. They’re stupendous! Miles of stretchy sack and two chunky nuts just sitting there, teasing him and demanding attention. Dale laughs, “I know, they’re a bit much, aren’t they?”

Aaron launches into discovery of this unexpected treasure, a completely new experience. But where to start? He cups them in his hand, hefting their solid weight. He tries both hands, wriggling his fingers through the forest of wiry hair, and can barely encompass them.

“Feel free to tug on them if you like,” Dale coaxes.

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps his hand around the soft skin at the base of Dale’s balls and squeezes, gathering it all together into his fist. The balls push tightly, causing the skin to go all smooth and shiny, each one perfectly defined. With his other hand, Aaron gently strokes a smooth spot in the inviting valley between the two globes.

Dale says, with a catch in his voice, “I bet your tongue would feel mighty nice right there.”

Aaron tries it out and it feels mighty nice from his side. The earthy aroma permeates his head and Dale’s balls are slightly salty from the day’s exertions. As his tongue explores the smooth exposed areas, his nose tickles through the hairy tangle above.

“That’s the ticket,” Dale says, rumbling deep in his chest. “Don’t be afraid to tug. They can handle a lot of attention.” He pushes his pants all the way down to his ankles and spreads his knees wide, allowing unfettered access. Aaron jumps down, squatting on the floor between his knees, ready to embark on some in-depth exploration.

Aaron squeezes and pulls, experimenting and playing. They’re just getting started and he’s already dizzy with lust, but there’s no hurry at all. After all, there’s only one first time, so he gives himself the space to explore. The leverage is better from this angle, so he can put some muscle into it, and the sack gets tighter and more defined. He cups his other hand around the curves, caressing the slick surface, still wet from his tongue. He grips even harder, pulling and looking up to Dale’s face, watching for limits. Dale is gazing down at the action with lidded eyes, breathing deep breaths and licking his lips, so he obviously hasn’t reached any yet.

“Damn you’re beautiful,” Dale says, struggling to say coherent words.

With each tug, Dale’s dick waves back and forth, demanding attention. Precum is flowing freely now, cascading down his vertical cock and disappearing into his pubes, totally wasted. That won’t do at all. Aaron tugs hard, teetering his dick to face towards him, and plunges in, taking Dale’s cock in his mouth all the way to the base. His nose is buried in sticky pubes as his lips explore the girth, and Dale pumps surge after surge of precum down his throat. It’s so much more than he could have hoped. He wants to keep Dale’s cock nestled right there, filling him up and feeding his lust forever.

But Dale obviously wants in on the fun and grabs Aaron’s shoulders. “Up. Now. I need your monster in my mouth.”

Aaron grinds his nose into those scratchy pubes one more time, sucking out a few more tasty drops, and complies, letting go of this heady experience and jumping eagerly into the next. His immediate thought is to whip out his cock and stuff it down Dale’s throat, no fuss and right to the point. Although he barely knows the man, he’s certain this is exactly what Dale wants the most, but unfortunately, and with no surprise, the Fates simply refuse to cooperate. The button on his pants is no problem, but his hands are slippery with Dale’s precum and the zipper sticks. Aaron’s impatient cock can do nothing but struggle against the unwilling fabric.

“Maybe you can try your hand at it?” Aaron suggests, throwing up his hands in frustration.

“Probably not a good idea,” Dale says with a wry grin, obviously expecting obstacles like this. “Remember? Zippers and cocks? Based on my past luck, that zipper is not going to budge. So, sexy boy, you have a decision to make. We can try again later and you can wear some easy-access shorts with elastic, or you can sacrifice the pants to the cause.”

There’s really no question: his straining cock tells him in no uncertain terms that later is not an option. Dashing off to his office, Aaron says, “Gimme a second.” He grabs a pair of scissors from his desk and takes just a moment to breathe deep, consciously stifling any thoughts of disaster scenarios. Carefully, ever so carefully, he snips the waistline of the pants, making the incision way over by his hip bone, miles away from his more susceptible bits. Placing the scissors carefully back on the desk, he lets the exhilaration flood his body again.

“Maybe you can help with the rest,” he shouts, racing back to Dale.

Dale is enthusiastically helpful and rips the pants down to the knee. He reaches inside and rubs his hand over the huge bulge in Aaron’s briefs. Aaron watches, wondering if he should whip him out and stuff him down, but Dale is already taking a few exploratory tastes of the wet spot of precum on his briefs. So he holds back, allowing Dale to set the pace.

“All off,” Dale demands. “I’ve been dreaming too long about that tan-lined nakedness. Time to see it in action.”

Again, he thinks of getting right to it, dick out and stuffed in, but then he remembers how Dale watches him when he’s out at the pool, admiring and probably lusting. Maybe it’s better to make a show of it, to paint Dale a sexy memory before they dive into the main attraction.

He kicks off his shoes and peels down his pants, leaving on his tight white underwear, since it shows him off perfectly. Dale is sitting on the edge of the couch, hands on his thighs and heavy balls dangling over the edge of the cushion, struggling to be patient. It must be excruciating, deliciously so. Next goes the shirt, one button at a time, slowly revealing the lines and curves of his chest and abs. Dale’s heels are tapping involuntarily on the floor in anticipation. Finally, Aaron stands almost naked, knowing that he’s a perfect picture in underwear and socks. Of course, he’s rock hard—how could he not be with this hairy beast watching his every move? His cock forms a huge arch inside his underwear, straining for release.

“Are you ready for this?” he teases.

“You know it, buddy. Bring him out to play.”

With two thumbs, Aaron inches the briefs down, revealing first his thatch of golden blond pubes, then the veiny base of his cock. Finally, his cock is released, unfurling to full length and pointing the way to his admirer on the couch.

Dale can’t wait a moment longer and impatiently stabs his finger at the floor between his knees. “Now! Here!” he demands.

Finally, it’s time for action. Aaron strides over, feeling very proud of the way his stiff cock bobs with each step, and shoves it in Dale’s mouth.

“MmmmmHmmmm,” Dale mumbles through the mouthful, grabbing Aaron’s butt and forcing him in further with exactly the greedy sounds Aaron knew he would make. With each thrust, Aaron feels the tight fit of Dale’s throat around his cockhead. Dale sputters and drools as Aaron pounds away, unquenchable in his quest to take every last inch. Aaron grabs Dale’s beard in both fists, holding tight and ramming in, and Dale roughly grips Aaron’s butt, demanding and trying to stuff him deeper and deeper.

But the angles aren’t quite working. Aaron has a slight upward curve of his snaky cock and he’s unforgivingly stiff. He pulls out and Dale wipes the back of his hand across his beard, gushing, “That was delicious , but let’s set it up differently. If I lay upside down, you should be able to shove that tasty treat all the way to the hilt.”

Dale hops up, kicks off his shoes and pants, and flops back onto the couch, flinging his legs up over the back.

“Watch out!” Aaron shouts as they hear a loud Crack! The couch lurches as the leg breaks and tumbles entirely over backwards, dumping Dale on the floor behind.

“Sorry about that,” Dale says, hopping up with a lopsided grin. “Should have known I needed to take it more slowly.”

“Not a problem, Bulldozer,” Aaron says, admiring the sexy swing of his balls. “I’m guessing we’re going to have a lot of collateral damage.”

“If we’re doing it right…”

Aaron’s heart sings with joy: so this is what it’s like to be with a man and not be afraid to touch him. His body hungrily insists that the fun has just begun, and Dale is showing no signs of flagging, so he suggests, “Let’s see how strong the bed is.”