Chapter 15 #3
“You okay?” he asked, once he was able to take a full breath, the overwhelming sensation of having his dick inside Luca battling, barely, raggedly, with his brain’s concern over the look on Luca’s face. But Luca reached up, gripped Emerson’s arms as he nodded.
“Yeah. Good,” he gasped. “Keep going.”
So Emerson did, and slowly Luca’s expression relaxed, his head tipping back against Emerson’s pillow.
“Keep going,” he murmured again. It took Emerson a while to figure out the best position for the rest of his body, where to put his hands, how far he could lever his chest down toward Luca’s, where he truly wanted to be.
When he finally settled into a position that felt okay, he worked on his rhythm, on angling himself in what he hoped was the same direction that had made Luca’s eyes roll in the back of his head with the toy.
“Still okay?” he asked after a few minutes of Luca not saying anything.
“Yeah,” Luca assured him. “Good.” But he added a second later, “You can go a little harder.”
So Emerson braced himself, and he did. Every part of this had felt good to Emerson, but now Luca started to make those noises he’d been making before, that Emerson had been craving, that let Emerson know he was doing an okay job.
Which was good, the best, but now Emerson was rutting into him at such a rate that he didn’t know how long he could last.
“Luca,” he got out, his lungs hungry for air. “I don’t know—this feels too good for me.”
Luca released half a laugh until his own throat cut himself off with a moan.
“Yeah,” he gasped, “I know. Let’s actually—wait.” He gripped Emerson’s arms, and Emerson slowed. “Can we flip over, so I’m on top?”
“Yeah.” Emerson withdrew himself completely, against his body’s protest. “Of course.”
Pushing the pillows to the side, they rearranged themselves until Luca straddled Emerson’s hips.
Without wasting a second, he sank down until Emerson was fully inside him again.
And even though it was a position they had just been in, there was something about it now—Emerson’s back relaxed against the bed, his body no longer questioning where exactly it should be, Luca’s own magnificent body towering above him, weighing him down—
Emerson released a long groan. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Luca panted. “Same.”
And then they were moving, Luca mostly in charge but Emerson’s body following along instinctually, hips rising up to meet him, Luca occasionally leaning down for sloppy kisses that made Emerson’s head feel like it was going to burst.
“Luca,” Emerson said. “Fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful.” The sun was starting to set; Emerson could tell from the way the light from the window painted Luca’s body orangey-gold.
“Emerson,” Luca panted. “You’re—god.” The last syllable came out on a garbled groan. Luca had to be close. He had to be. Emerson was about to break apart. He was about to double check with Luca about it but then Luca said, “You are so fucking hot.”
And Emerson started to laugh. This again. The only hot man in the room was the one on top of him. But then the laugh got caught up with his orgasm, garbling into a generally unattractive noise in the middle of his throat.
Luca sped up on top of him, his hand flying across his dick—I could do that, I should’ve been doing that, Emerson barely had the consciousness to think, except he couldn’t control any of his limbs—and then he was coming too, the release warm against Emerson’s stomach and chest.
“Jesus Christ,” Luca huffed, his head and his spine bent forward after he was done, his left hand propping himself up at Emerson’s side.
“Can you kiss me?” Emerson blurted, the seconds after the words hung in the air the first moment he’d felt truly embarrassed since Luca had turned on that toy.
But Luca, still breathing heavily, only said, “Fuck yeah I can,” and lifted his head to do just that. The kiss was soft, and perfect, all lips, somehow exactly what Emerson needed. “Thank you,” Luca said as he pulled away.
Emerson huffed. “Thank you. That was okay, then?”
Luca smiled, and Emerson had regained enough mental clarity to truly see it. The sleepy, sexy sparkle in his dark eyes, the curve of his mouth, just inches from Emerson’s.
“Emerson. Fuck you. Obviously that was okay.”
Emerson blushed. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Fuck,” Luca mumbled before leaning down to kiss him again.
“Okay,” he pulled away to say. “Gotta clean up.” He was in the middle of climbing off Emerson’s body when he asked, “Want me to take care of this?” with a hand around Emerson’s still-sheathed dick.
Emerson blinked at him in surprise before nodding.
With care, Luca removed the condom and padded away, his ass outstanding in the light as he walked into the hall toward the bathroom.
Emerson took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, a hand to his chest, monitoring his pounding heart.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when he stirred awake, the reality that Luca was curled up at his side, his head resting on Emerson’s right pec permeating his consciousness.
His stomach and his dick were wiped clean; Luca’s fingers brushed light circles over his waist. He must have drifted off somehow while Luca had taken care of everything.
The light from the window had faded, the room dimmer but not yet dark.
It must not have been too long that he’d been out.
He was ridiculously grateful Luca was still here, either way.
A second later, Emerson realized his own hand rested on Luca’s head, his fingers idly running over the soft dark hair.
It felt good. Luca’s hair, Luca’s cheek on his body. Like what Luca and Emerson had just done had felt good.
Like how almost everything had felt good, ever since the skies opened up on Sunday.
As his faculties returned to him, he tried to picture what life would be like right now if it hadn’t rained that day. If Luca hadn’t followed him, if Luca hadn’t slipped. If Emerson hadn’t reached out and fallen with him.
If Luca had accepted his apology on the couch.
Would they have crashed together eventually? Or would Emerson be lying alone in his room, catching up on his small farm forums on his phone?
No. He’d probably be back out there, working on the wildflower field, working on the old barn. There was still so much work to do, and the calendar ticked each day toward September, and—
Luca had been right about one thing, at least. Even with all the to-do lists that still existed outside these walls—
Right now, Emerson only felt relaxed.
Which was probably why he felt totally fine answering Luca’s demand when Luca waved a hand toward the wall and said, “Tell me about these.”
Emerson turned his head in the direction Luca was pointing. “The pictures, you mean?”
“Yeah. Who are all the people I don’t know?”
Emerson smiled lazily at his wall. The wall he’d never considered changing, even after Jay moved out. It should maybe feel strange looking at it now, these pure pictures of his loved ones, after what he and Luca had just done, but it didn’t.
Some days the wall hurt. And some mornings, it reminded him he’d had a life. It gave him a reason to get up.
“That’s from the first farm I ever worked at.
” He pointed at the photo of him and the crew from Cherrywood.
“I went to college for a year after high school, even though I kind of knew it wouldn’t be for me.
But I needed to get out of my hometown, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so… college felt like the only option.
“I met Jay there, so I’m glad I went. But summer after freshman year, I got a job there.
At Cherrywood Farm. And it was…I don’t know.
I loved it. Felt like I was doing something worthwhile for the first time in my life, and it made me…
calm. Growing up, my house…wasn’t. Calm, I mean.
And a farm’s never truly calm either, but—god, I’m saying a lot of words. I still feel kind of out of it, sorry.”
“No.” Luca’s hand rested on Emerson’s stomach; his thumb still traced over Emerson’s skin. “Keep going. You’re good.”
“Anyway, they were a good crew, the people in that photo. Breezy, Jasper, Neil. Still talk to Jasper sometimes. So yeah, I quit school after that. Kept working on that farm. Moved on to others when they couldn’t keep me on anymore.”
“But Jayden stayed in school?”
“Yeah.” Emerson shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, keeping one hand on Luca, the other tucked behind his own head.
“Cherrywood wasn’t far from Western, where we went, so it was easy at first. At least, relatively.
I was self-conscious that I couldn’t be like his other friends, that we couldn’t study together in the library anymore, you know. ”
It felt funny, reliving this portion of his life. It all felt so long ago. He couldn’t even remember what classes he’d taken, his singular year of college.
“But he supported my decision, my life. When I moved on to other farms, we survived some long years of long distance until he graduated and we finally got a place together in Portland. Lot of farms within driving distance of the city.”
Luca made a small humming noise, but otherwise stayed quiet.
“Did you go to college?” Emerson asked, curious about all of Luca’s history he didn’t know either. “For writing maybe?”
“No,” Luca said. “Didn’t go for anything. Who’s the older couple in that one?”
Emerson squinted toward where Luca pointed.
“Oh. That’s Yulia and Graham, my in-laws.” It took him a moment to realize he should correct himself. “Ex-in-laws, I mean. But we’re—” Now he paused on purpose. Changed the tense of his sentence. Maybe it was time to finally stop fooling himself. “We were close.”
He looked away from the wall.
“Is it okay if we finish storytime there?” he asked quietly, he hoped not unkindly. “I’m pretty wiped.”
“Of course.” Luca turned his head, kissed Emerson’s chest before extricating himself from the bed.
It was quick, brief, but that kiss made Emerson regret what he’d just said.
He should’ve kept storytime going forever.
He should’ve rambled about each photograph until Luca fell asleep on top of him. Until Luca stayed.
He wanted Luca to stay.
“I should get the rest of this cleaned up anyway,” Luca said as he stepped into his underwear, as he gathered the rest of his clothes and his sex supplies. Emerson’s gaze stuck on the toy in Luca’s hand. He almost asked if he could leave it.
“See you tomorrow,” Luca said at the door, an air of awkwardness suddenly hanging between them. Emerson pictured himself leaping out of bed, pushing Luca against the door for one last kiss, making that awkwardness disappear.
But the truth was, he really was wiped. He was having a hard time believing he’d ever leave this bed again.
“Sleep well, Luca,” he said instead, and was rewarded with a soft, barely-there smile in return.
“Sleep well, Emerson,” Luca said before he slipped away, leaving Emerson alone in the almost dark with the pictures of the life he used to live.