Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Kieran
We turned onto Motzstra?e, the glow from the bars and cafés spilling out onto the pavement, the usual hum of conversation and music carrying through the evening air.
It looked the same, familiar and alive.
“We’ll get out here,” Stefan told the driver as we drew close to Romeo und Romeo. The car came to a halt, and he collected my suitcase and set it down on the pavement. I glanced at the familiar cafe, alive with music and voices.
And then I noticed what was different.
“There seem to be a lot of police around here.”
Stefan nodded. “There have been incidents.”
I frowned. “What kind of incidents?”
“There have been a string of attacks on queer locations in Berlin recently.” He pointed to the cafe. “And last month, the owner was attacked here, on the street.”
I recalled the owner, a quietly-spoken man in his fifties. “Is he okay?”
“He’s better now. Someone hit him over the head with a beer bottle, and it broke. The guy who did it was in his twenties. He also thought it was okay to fire off homophobic insults.” Stefan grimaced.
I peered inside the cafe. “They’re still open.”
“Of course they are.” Stefan took my hand in his. “We can come back later.”
And there was that word again.
We walked along the street towards Stefan’s apartment, my hand in his.
I’m really here.
And Diana and Miles would be here in two days’ time.
“There are a few things I need to tell you,” I said as we drew closer to his door. “Diana and I have applied for divorce.”
“I see. I take it this is all amicable?”
I smiled. “You can ask her that yourself in a few days.” Stefan blinked. “She and her boyfriend Miles—yes, she has a boyfriend—are coming to Berlin to visit the Christmas markets. And of course, she wants to meet you.”
“How long does it take to get a divorce in the UK?”
I huffed. “Twenty weeks from first applying, then we apply for a conditional order, which basically means the court reviews our case, then tells us they don’t see any reason why we can’t divorce.
That part can take several weeks. If all goes well, they send us a certificate, but we’ll still be married at that point.
We’ll have to wait forty-three days after the conditional order is granted before we can apply to finalise the divorce and end the marriage.
So all told? It’ll take about seven months. ”
We stopped outside the door to Stefan’s building. He turned to me, smiling.
“And then you’ll be a free man.”
Something in me caught on that, but before I could say anything, my phone pinged. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen. I chuckled.
“It’s from Karl. He says Am I forgiven for the deception?”
“Are you going to reply?”
I gave a half smile. “Later.” Right then I was still thinking about what Stefan had just said.
By the time we were inside his apartment, I knew I couldn’t let the moment go by. I waited until he closed the door before speaking.
I removed my boots, just as I’d always done. “You said downstairs that I’d be a free man. But… I don’t think that’s the right word.”
Stefan’s brow furrowed. “No?”
I shook my head, my chest tight. “Free makes it sound like there’s… space. Options. As if I’m stepping out of something and back into—” I paused, searching for it. “Possibility.”
He didn’t break eye contact.
“That’s not how it feels,” I said quietly.
I swallowed. “I lied about not having a speech prepared. I’ve been practising something.
In German.” Before he could say another word, I took a breath.
“Ich liebe dich. Seitdem ich aus Berlin weg bin, war ich mit niemandem mehr zusammen. Ich will keinen anderen Mann au?er dir.” I enunciated every word, not looking away, watching his face.
“That’s what I mean.” My voice was quieter now.
“I don’t feel… free.” I paused. “Not in that way. I chose this. I chose you.” Another pause.
“And I’m not looking for anything else.”
I didn’t want to put pressure on him, to demand anything of him, but I had to tell him the truth.
Stefan caught his breath, his eyes glistening. One hand cupped my cheek, the other was on my neck.
“I love you, Kieran Walsh. And since you left, I too haven’t been with anyone else. And as for that last part? I don’t want any other man but you either.”
A heartbeat later, his lips locked on mine, and I looped my arms around his neck, moulding my body to his.
“I got tested in Manchester,” I murmured between kisses.
“I was tested last week.”
I didn’t waste a second. I shrugged off my jacket, Stefan removed his coat and scarf, and we were right back to kissing again. I gave him a shove, until his back met the wall, and seconds later I was on my knees, his jeans unzipped, his cock in my mouth, his balls in my hand.
“Oh, fuck.” Stefan closed his eyes. “I’ve missed that mouth.”
“And I’ve missed how you smell.” I breathed him in. “You’re still using that citrus body wash.” I took him deep, pulling moans from his lips as I bobbed my head, his hands resting on my hair, stroking and tugging.
He slipped his hands under my pits and hauled me to my feet, spinning me around until I faced the door jamb. “Grab hold,” he ground out. He slid his hands around my waist, unfastened my jeans, and tugged them and my briefs to the floor.
“You’re wearing underwear,” he said with a catch in his voice.
“I didn’t know I’d be meeting you, or that I’d have a bare arse within an hour of landing.” Then he knelt behind me, pressed his face into my crease, and holy fuck, his tongue was exactly where I wanted it.
Where I’d been dreaming about it being since I’d boarded the flight back to Berlin.
Stefan paused. “Mention Julie Andrews and I stop.”
I made a choking sound. “I had no intention of… that name passing my lips.” I tilted my hips, reaching back to hold his head right fucking there, and my groans filled the air.
“Please… for the love of God… tell me you’ve got lube handy.
” I heard a drawer open and close, the snick of the cap, and another heartbeat later, the warm, blunt head of his dick demanded entrance.
Getting fucked standing up was about to be added to my list of—
Yeah. I wasn’t even going to think it.
Stefan’s breath warmed my neck. “Is that okay?”
I arched my back, and he filled me to the hilt. “Oh God,” I moaned. “You’re all the way home.”
And so was I.
Our bodies slammed together, the slap of flesh against flesh loud in the quiet of the apartment, competing with our cries and groans.
When he pulled free of me, I gasped, until he removed every stitch of my clothing, propelled me across the kitchen, and bent me over the table.
Then he slid back into me, my shaft solid and pointing towards the floor.
I rested my forearms on the tabletop, my body buffeted as he drove into me.
“My mother… would be telling me… off right now,” I managed to get out, my words punctuated by each thrust.
“For getting fucked in the kitchen?” he panted.
“No—for having my elbows on the table.” I was getting so close. “Stefan… pull out,” I croaked.
He was out of me within seconds. “Is something wrong?”
I stood, turned around, and kissed him, long and deep. “No. Just a change of direction, that’s all.” Then I flipped us. “Lie on the table.”
His eyes widened, but he did as I asked.
I grabbed his jeans that were still around his thighs and tugged them free of his legs. Then I pushed his knees towards his chest and went to town on his hole, flicking it with my tongue.
“Oh my God.” Stefan closed his eyes again, his arms hooked under his knees. “Don’t stop.”
I paused long enough to chuckle. “We still have a few flat surfaces to try out. So I don’t intend stopping anytime soon.” I lapped at his pucker, loving how it contracted, then looked around for the lube. “This won’t last long,” I told him.
“Then we’ll do it all over again tonight.” He moaned as I pressed two slick fingers inside him. “Who are you, and what did you do with Kieran?”
I sawed in and out of him. “That was meek and mild Kieran. I left him in Manchester. They’re welcome to him.” I pulled my fingers free and slicked up my shaft, guiding it into position. “This is bad, bold Kieran, who isn’t afraid to show what he wants.”
Stefan reared his head up off the table. “Fuck me, bad, bold Kieran.”
“With pleasure.” I tugged him until his arse hung over the edge of the table, then slid into my favourite place on this earth.
“God, I love your cock,” he groaned. “So good.”
“The name’s Kieran, but God will do just as well.
” I dug my fingers into his hips, drove my dick into him, the sound hot as fuck, and suddenly I was there.
I came inside him, mouth wide, breathless and more alive than I’d ever felt in my life.
Stefan followed seconds later, his cum arcing into the air, harder than I’d seen him shoot before.
I pulled him upright, and we were in each other’s arms, kissing, laughing, both of us sweaty and sticky—
And I was the happiest I’d been for a long time.
Maybe for ever.
This is what true freedom feels like.
I was finally a man at peace—with myself.
Stefan
The Ferris wheel carriage rocked gently as it lifted away from the ground, the noise of the Christmas market receding beneath us.
Berlin stretched out in lights, the Alexanderplatz market glowing below us, stalls clustered together, people moving in slow currents, laughter and music drifting upward in fragments, interlaced with shouts from the ice rink as people skated around the frozen fountain.
Kieran leaned back, one arm draped along the seat behind me, his other hand clutching the small glass jug that had contained Glühwein.
“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured.
I glanced at him. “Believe what?”
He gestured towards the view. “All of this. The lights. The Ferris wheel. The fact that I’m here.”
I chuckled. “You applied for the job.”
“Yes, but I didn’t factor in… this.”
“This?”
He turned his head, meeting my gaze. “You.”
I stared at him for a moment, then reached across, took the jug from him and setting it on the floor of the carriage before threading my fingers through his.
“You’re adjusting well,” I said. “You haven’t attempted to leave the country yet.”
He grinned. “Give me time.”
The carriage shifted as we reached the highest point, the city opening out around us.
“So how long do I get to stay with you?” he asked.
“Are you talking about this visit? Or when you relocate here?”
He blinked. “Well, the former. I was going to stay with Karl because I’ll be here until January.”
“I know. I told Karl I’d have you until then.”
He smirked. “And you just did.” When I gave him a puzzled glance, his eyes twinkled. “Have me.”
“I could say the same thing of you. But I mean it. Stay with me.”
He gazed at me. “For the next few weeks?”
I smiled. “For longer than that.”
His breathing hitched.
“You’ll need space for your things,” I told him. “If you’re relocating to Berlin, it would be inefficient for you to maintain separate accommodation unnecessarily.”
Kieran stared at me. “You’re inviting me to move in with you.”
I shrugged. “I’m stating the logical conclusion.”
He laughed under his breath. “That’s one way of putting it.”
I cocked my head. “You would prefer not to?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, that’s not—” He stopped. Exhaled. “I just didn’t think you’d say it like that.”
“How else would I say it?”
Kieran’s eyes flicked toward the city, then back to me. “Maybe something less like a housing proposal?”
I considered that. I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear. “Live with me. I want you to.”
Kieran’s voice was warm. “Okay.”
I smiled. “Good.” Then as an afterthought, I added, “There is also the matter of the piano.”
He blinked. “The piano.”
“Yes.”
His smile widened. “You’re using that as a selling point?”
“It is a very good piano.”
He laughed, the sound easy and unguarded. “All right. You’ve convinced me.”
I grinned. “I was confident I would.”
The carriage began its slow descent, the sounds rising to meet us again.
“Don’t forget the glass jug.” I handed it to him. “You paid five euros for that.”
“I thought I might keep it as a souvenir,” he said with a smile. “My first Christmas market.”
I chuckled. “It can join my collection. There are already three of them in a cabinet at home.”
Once we’d got out of the carriage, we made our way back into the heart of the market, the cold biting enough to make me yearn for the warmth of more Glühwein.
Kieran stopped at nearly every stall, peering at everything and commenting on most of it.
“This is dangerous,” he said, examining a game carved from wood.
“In what way?”
“I’m going to spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need.”
“That seems likely.”
He shot me a look. “You’re supposed to stop me.”
“I see no reason to interfere.”
He laughed, then gestured to the game. “What do you call this in German? It’s Ludo in English.”
“Mensch ?rgere dich nicht.”
He blinked. “That’s a mouthful.”
I laughed. “It translates as ‘Don’t get angry, man’.”
He shook his head before putting it down and reaching for my hand.
We drifted further into the market, the crowd thickening, voices rising and falling around us, the air warmer here from the press of bodies and the glow of the stalls.
Kieran paused at another wooden display, picking something up and turning it over in his hands with interest. The scent of cinnamon and sugar cut through the cold, laughter spilling from somewhere behind us.
I bought us two cones of Kaiserschmarrn, without telling him what it was, and watched his face as he ate the fluffy, torn pieces of caramelized pancake, the sour cherry compote catching him off guard.
His eyes were huge. “Oh my God, what is this?”
“Do you like it?”
“No,” he said, reaching for another bite. “I love it.”
I chuckled. “Then I could tell you anything, and it wouldn’t matter if it was the truth or not.”
He blinked. “Except you are the one person I expect the truth from.”
That hit me hard.
“That matters a great deal.”
We moved on without urgency, the market unfolding around us in light and colour, our steps unhurried, our conversation drifting in and out of silence with ease.
Nothing demanded our attention.
Nothing needed resolving.
We were simply here, together. And there was nowhere else I wanted to be.