Chapter 19 Miguel #2
Tipping his chin up so he’s looking at me, really looking.
“If this is just you trying to get out of your head, we don’t have to do this,” I tell him.
“If you’re using sex like a fire alarm, I’d rather we sit on the couch and breathe.
I don’t want to be a fucking escape hatch, baby. I want you with me.”
His eyes flicker, hurt and something like frustration flashing through them. “I know the difference,” he whispers. “I know when I’m trying to numb out. This isn’t that.”
“Tell me what this is for you, then,” I say. “Use your words.”
He swallows hard. “It’s… wanting you.” His fingers tighten on my shoulders.
“It’s feeling like everything else is loud and sharp and wrong, and you’re the only thing that feels like home.
It’s… wanting to make you feel good because all you ever do is hold me together.
” He hesitates, then adds, “You’re not a distraction for me, Miguel.
You’re the only thing that makes anything make sense. ”
Yeah. That’s gonna linger longer than it should.
I search his face for any sign of distance. All I see is raw, open need. Him. Here.
“Okay,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “Okay, baby. Just checking. I’ll always check first.”
A little relief flashes in his eyes, chased by heat. “I know,” he whispers. “I love that you do.”
Caleb kisses me then, slow and deep, and this time I let myself sink into it. The spray hammers around us, his hands roam my chest and my stomach, mapping me like he needs to relearn every inch.
When he pulls back, he’s breathing harder. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, like he’s standing on the edge of something big and shaky.
“Can I…?” he starts, eyes dropping, cheeks flushing.
“Whatever you’re asking, the answer is yes,” I say, trying to lighten it and it works, pulling the sexiest little side smirk from him.
He takes a breath like he’s steadying himself, then sinks to his knees, water cascading over his shoulders, his hands sliding down my sides.
My throat goes tight.
Not because I’m worried. Because I know what this costs him. Caleb doesn’t kneel casually. Not with what kneeling used to mean in his life.
“Hey,” I say softly, one hand automatically going to his hair, thumb stroking his temple. “Look at me.”
He tilts his head back, water dripping off his lashes, gaze locked on mine.
“You’re sure?” I ask. “You can stop anytime. You hear me? You owe me nothing.”
A small, crooked smile curves his mouth. “Shut up and let me suck your dick,” he says.
And then he leans in.
The first touch is cataclysmic, it’s a soft, uncertain brush of his lips against the head of my cock. The water beats down on my chest, a steady rhythm that does nothing to quiet my heart. I watch him, his eyelids fluttering, his brow furrowed in concentration. Careful.
Feeling his way through it. On his knees in the steam with me.
My hand stays in his hair, a grounding weight, while my thumb strokes the damp curl at his temple. “Fuck,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I intended. “Eyes on me, pretty boy.”
He does, and my lungs stall. The way he’s looking at me leaves nowhere for him to hide.
Whatever fear used to live there is gone.
What’s left is trust, laid bare between us.
Caleb parts his lips, and this time he takes me in, slowly and down to the third barbell.
The heat of his mouth contrasts sharply with the cool tile at my back and the hot water running down my front.
A groan rips up from my chest, my head falling back against the tile with a soft thud. “Fuck, Caleb.”
Responding only with a low hum, a vibration that travels straight up my spine and detonates behind my eyes.
His hands, which were resting lightly on my thighs, tighten, gripping me like I’m the only solid thing in a world that’s been spinning off its axis.
Suctioning his mouth around me, he starts to move, finding a rhythm that’s less about technique and more about intent.
Each slide of his mouth feels less like a technique and more like a reassurance—he’s here, he sees me, and he wants to take care of me for once.
I can’t stop watching him. Nothing else exists. He’s the only thing that feels real.
The water slicks his hair back from his face, his cheeks hollow as he takes my cock to the back of his throat, eyes fixed on mine beneath his lashes. I’m trapped in the sight of him, stripped down to nothing but this.
I’ve never seen him this unguarded.
The tension that’s been locked in place since the game starts to unravel.
It’s not a frantic rush toward an end—it’s a slow, deliberate melt.
My hips move on their own, a shallow, helpless rock that meets him halfway.
My fingers tighten in his hair, not to guide or take over, but to anchor myself to him. To this moment.
“Caleb,” I breathe, his name a ragged sound in the steam.
“Baby, you’re… God.” The words fail because there aren’t any.
Not for this. Not for the sight of him on his knees, giving me this gift of himself, so freely, so completely.
“Just like that, pretty boy. Fuck, you take this cock so fucking well. I wish you could see how fucking perfect you look right now.”
He picks up the pace, more confident now, encouraged by the sounds slipping out of me.
A whimper tears out of me when he gags. My spine bows, my body arches, answering without asking me first. Water hits the floor in uneven bursts, his mouth working on me, wet and relentless, echoing in the steam.
It’s messy and real and fucking perfect.
That’s when I feel it start low in my spine, a tightening, a gathering storm. “Caleb… I’m gonna come, baby… fuck…” I try to pull back but his hands hold me tight, a silent plea that says, “Don’t you dare.” He wants all of it, wants to be the one to take the edge off, to be the one I fall apart for.
And so I let go.
My orgasm crashes through me, a blinding wave that steals my breath. “Fuuuuck,” tears from my throat, echoing off the tiled walls. My cum pulses into his mouth, and he takes it, takes all of it, his throat working as he swallows, his eyes never leaving mine.
For a long moment, the only sound is the hiss of the shower and the frantic gasp of my own lungs.
I’m boneless, slumped against the wall, every muscle gone slack.
Caleb slowly pulls back, his lips swollen and slick.
He looks up at me, and there’s no hesitation now.
Just quiet satisfaction. I reach down, hook my hands under his arms, and haul him to his feet.
He stumbles slightly, and I catch him, pulling him flush against me.
His skin is hot and slick, his cock hard against my thigh.
My mouth attacks his, the kiss deep and messy, tasting myself on his tongue, a claiming as much as a thank you.
“My turn,” I murmur against his mouth, spinning us so his back is against the tiles. “Your knees aren’t the only ones that can hit the floor, hermoso.”
Once the water’s turned off and the steam’s cooling on the glass, we stumble out of the bathroom wrapped in towels, laughter filling the silence. My legs are a little shaky still, his smile borders on smug and soft at the same time.
“You okay?” I ask, just to be sure, brushing a damp curl off his forehead as we pause in the hallway.
He nods, eyes warm and a little sleepy. “Yeah. You?”
“Pretty sure my soul left my body… twice,” I say dryly. “So… yeah. I’m good.”
Caleb laughs, that quiet, real one I don’t hear often enough. It does more for me than anything that happened in the shower.
In the bedroom, he steals one of my oldest shirts—some faded band tee—and pulls on a pair of soft boxer briefs. I yank on clean boxers and drop onto the bed, patting the space next to me.
There’s no hesitation, he just climbs in, immediately curling into my side like he belongs there.
His head finds that spot on my chest where he says my heartbeat sounds the clearest. I wrap an arm around him, hand splaying between his shoulder blades.
His fingers trace the intricate patterns of tattoos over my ribs, his breathing already starting to slow.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into my skin.
“For what, baby?”
“For all of it,” he says. “For tonight. For… staying.”
I press a kiss into his hair. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I tell him, and I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything.
He thinks I’m sacrificing parts of myself to keep him whole.
Maybe I am.
But lying here with him wrapped around me, breathing finally even, heartbeat steady against my side, it doesn’t feel like a sacrifice.
It feels like the only place I’m supposed to be.