Glitter

Chapter Eight

Blue

The sound of a monstrous yowl made my eyes snap open and my entire body jolt.

“Gah! What the fucking fuck?!”

Just like last night when I’d woken the first time, it took me a moment to figure out that I wasn’t at my place but was actually still at Henry’s. This time, however, I’d been draped over the warm body of the quietly snoring man in question when I jerked awake and accidentally kneed him in the thigh.

“Ow…” Henry snuffled a little as he shifted underneath me, the hand not wrapped around my back rising to swipe over his still closed eyes as he let out a yawn.

“Oh, Jesus! Sorry!” I tried to scramble away, only to be stopped by Henry tightening his arm around me.

“It’s okay, angel.” The hand that had been rubbing at his eyes fell to the side and he blinked twice before turning his face to kiss me on the top of my head. “Was a reflex.”

Another yowl screamed through the door, the sound similar to nails being dragged on a chalkboard mixed with a death metal guitar solo, lilting until the noise became almost plaintive.

“Ah. Sir Cattus is up.” Henry huffed a quiet laugh, his body jostling mine from his stifled chuckles.

It was my turn to blink. “And here I was thinking it was the apocalypse descending.”

He snorted. “Pretty sure Sir Cattus would say it was. That was his morning wake up, my lazy servant, and feed me my due wail.”

“Oh,” I said as I frowned at the door that Henry’s cat was now scratching at. “Do we need to…?” I planted my hands on the mattress next to his torso and started lifting myself off him.

“Nope. He has plenty of access to his food. I built him an automated food and water dispenser that gives him what he needs. He just prefers me to stand there and watch him eat. He’ll give up soon enough.”

I relaxed back on to him, my chin resting on his pec while I played with his chest hair. “What do you mean? You actually built him an automatic dispenser?” I wasn’t sure why this thought seemed so surprising to me considering he was building a glitter bomb out of a lunchbox, but it was early, and my brain hadn’t fully woken up yet. Apparently, I needed coffee before I could stop myself from asking questions that had obvious answers.

A warm flush spread over his cheeks as he averted his eyes from mine. “I didn’t want him to starve if I found myself working late.”

Smiling softly, I tapped him on the chest. “You know, you can buy those dispenser thingies now. You didn’t have to build one for him.”

He shrugged, his blush still burning brightly. “I looked at a few, but none of them looked like they’d last longer than a year. I wanted something sturdier.”

“Pretty sure that they purposely design things to break, so we’ll keep going back to buy more and keep them in business.” I snuffled into his chest before giving his pec a quick nibble. “Good on you for sticking it to the man.”

He laughed, his sturdy body shaking under me and making me grin. “I can honestly say that wasn’t what I was thinking of when I built it.”

“Doesn’t matter. You stuck it to the man, and Sir Cattus is presumably happy with it, even though he sounds like an out of tune violin being played with a tire iron. Color me suitably impressed.” I pressed my lips to his torso one last time before I reluctantly got off him and rolled to the side, my bladder arguing with me. “What can I cook for you for breakfast? Do you have enough ingredients for pancakes?”

“I think so.” He reached for me as I got off the bed, but he let his arm drop when he saw I was heading to the ensuite. Groaning, he scrubbed his hands on his face before he sat up, the sheets and blankets pooling around his lap. He looked around the room, then sighed, resigned to the new day starting.

Once we were refreshed and dressed, we headed out to the kitchen. Sir Cattus glared at us both when we opened the bedroom door before he sauntered his way slowly down the hallway ahead of us, his tail lifted high and flicking from side to side in contempt. I swallowed a laugh at his antics and chanced a peek at Henry, who simply shook his head, shrugged, and muttered, “He’s such a prima donna.”

While Henry pulled out the ingredients for pancakes, I took a closer look at the food and water dispenser he’d built. It appeared to be somewhat modular, with each mechanism easily able to be lifted out of the overall base to be cleaned or refilled as necessary without affecting the other segments. The first end section was a water fountain that looked like it continually bubbled away like a miniature infinity pool and was low enough that Sir Cattus wouldn’t have to bend down to lap at the water. The middle section was the dry food dispenser that looked like ones I’d seen in pet stores in the past, but the other end section intrigued me the most.

“That’s the wet food dispenser,” Henry said from the pantry door, his arms crossed as he watched me now that he’d finished getting everything ready to mix. “It’s more finicky than the other two, but it does the job.”

“How?” I couldn’t see how he’d figured out how to keep the wet food fresh and not clog the mechanism inside. I studied it as he came over and knelt next to me, lifting the lid off to show me the interior.

“The mechanism needs to be cleaned daily to keep everything in working order, which it does automatically, but the basic gist of it is this system here.” He pointed at a circular rotor that fed from one side. There were levers further up the casing, all at different lengths. The precision and ingenuity of how everything fit together astounded me. “It takes in the food pouch and holds it on a timer. Once the system determines that it’s time to feed Sir Cattus, it slices into the pouch and deposits the food where it needs to go.” He pointed to the hole that appeared to have a small turbine ready to spin when it was activated. “It’s a bit more involved than that, but that’s basically the gist of it.”

“And the automated cleaning?” I’d never seen anything like it before. I already thought Henry was a genius when he showed me the glitter bomb prototype, but this was on another level entirely.

He shifted on his knees to point at a different part of the machine. “Every time the wet food is dispensed here, the machine separates the dish trough to the inner workings of the dispenser. It then runs a wash cycle through,” he said as he scratched at his bearded chin. “Think of it like a miniature dishwasher or those glass washing machines that bars and clubs use. The dirty water needs to be emptied every second day, but I do that at the same time I refill the food supplies.” He pointed at another section where a pouch sat waiting to be dispensed, much like a junk food vending machine.

“Jesus, Henry. This is incredible.” I rocked back on my heels and stared at him before bringing my eyes back to the machine. “How long ago did you build this? Have you had any hiccups using it?”

He put the casing back on the machine and notched the locks into place before scratching his chin again. “About three years ago? I’ve had Sir Cattus for four years and it took me a few months to build and calibrate.”

My eyes widened as I took in the whole setup again. It all looked brand new. “And you haven’t had to do anything since then? It’s been working perfectly for three years?”

He shrugged and his cheeks flushed as he rose, then he offered me his hand to stand up as well. “Once I had the kinks ironed out, yeah.” He cast his eyes down like he was embarrassed. “It’s no big deal. I didn’t want Sir Cattus to starve, that’s all.”

I could feel the corners of my lips quirk as I shook my head. “Henry, there are pet owners out there that would pay big money to have this in their homes. You’re a fucking genius.” I stepped around him, washed my hands, then started mixing everything together for pancakes. “You could create a patent and sell it for millions. Or keep the patent and build and sell them yourself. Do you have any idea of the goldmine you’ve created?”

Henry’s cheeks darkened even more, and his eyes kept darting away, not meeting mine at all. It suddenly dawned on me that I might have been a little too enthusiastic in my praise, but I could only guess at the amount of pet owners, incredibly rich pet owners, that would snap up his machine in a heartbeat, regardless of the cost. People loved their pets and spent huge amounts of money on them every day.

But sometimes it took an outsider’s perspective to show a person their own genius.

If Henry lacked the self-belief he needed to see his own brilliance, then I wanted to stick around and show it to him every single day, even if I needed to build his confidence slowly. Whatever it took, I was ready for it. He deserved it.

I reached out and rested my hands on his shoulders, turning him slightly until we were facing each other. “Or not. It’s okay if you don’t want to patent anything. I just wanted to make sure you know how magnificent you are.”

His gorgeous pale blue eyes finally swung back to mine, softening slightly when he saw how honest I was being. He was obviously still wary at what I’d said, but the appreciation was there in the playful glint that sparkled in the morning light.

“You understand that, right? You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I’m a scientist who works in cutting edge cancer research.” I gave him a goofy grin as I leaned in towards him like I was going to tell him a secret. “I know a lot of very smart people.”

He puffed out a laugh, his demeanor relaxing even more. “Thank you, angel.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear pocket bear.” I pecked a kiss on the end of his nose, then released him so I could turn back to the pancake mixture and make it into a batter. “Now. What would you like on your pancakes?” When I didn’t get a response, I looked over my shoulder to see him looking somewhat perplexed. “What?”

He tilted his head to the side and put his hands in his pockets. “Why do you call me pocket bear ?”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, hon. You’re a bear.” I gestured the mixing spoon in the direction of his sturdy torso and thick beard. “With your beard and all, you’re the very definition of a bear.”

Nodding slowly, he absorbed that. “But why pocket ?”

I smirked, dropped the spoon back in the mixing bowl and sauntered over to him before draping my arms around his neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders. “Because you’re short enough to fit in my pocket. I could pick you up, pop you in my pocket, and carry you around all day.”

A flush appeared on his cheeks before he looked away, mumbling, “I know I’m short and fat…”

“Hey now. None of that,” I said, frowning while I gently scraped my nails against the back of his neck. “I adore the fact that you’re shorter than me. And get that thought about you being fat completely out of your head. You might be sturdy, but you’re definitely not fat.” I leaned down and nipped his earlobe, lowering my voice to warmly say, “I meant it as a term of endearment, Henry. If you’re not comfortable with me calling you that, I promise I’ll stop.”

“No, it’s okay.” I felt the tension in his shoulders ease before he rested his hands on my hips, his fingers digging slightly into my clothes. “I’m not used to hearing that sort of thing said in a nice way…” He trailed off before the corners of his lips turned up in a tiny smile. “Thank you for explaining.”

I studied him carefully before I leaned down to kiss him softly. “I mean it, hon. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Just say the word.”

Slowly, his smile grew before he pulled me tight against him and let his hands wander up my back as he hugged me. “I know. Thank you, angel.”

Later that afternoon, I was back at my place doing laundry and missing Henry terribly. It had only been a few hours since I’d left his house, and already I wanted to go back.

While I was ironing my shirts for the coming work week and waiting on my last load of laundry to finish, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. I jumped over the sofa to grab it, thinking it might be the man I couldn’t get out of my head.

Alas, it was just Amy checking in.

Amazing Amelia: Coming to tomorrow’s jiu jitsu presentation? For some reason, my wife insists I remind you.

Ugh. Why are my work husbandly duties never finished? Even on the weekend??

Amazing Amelia: Because you’re the best work husband in the world. And you know I could crush you like a bug if you refused me.

Amazing Amelia: Like. A. Bug.

Fine. What time? Usual place, I’m assuming?

Amazing Amelia: Ten AM and yes :)

I tossed my phone back on the coffee table after sending her an affirmative, cursing that I’d completely forgotten about her presentation. She was a brown belt and helped out whenever her academy had their monthly performances. This time, she was taking part in a key demonstration with her coach and wanted her family and friends there for support.

The guilt at forgetting all about it irritated me. Thank God Amy’s wife had insisted on nagging her to remind me.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I stared at the clothes I still needed to iron. Of course, I knew where my mind had been all week, and of course, I knew Amy wouldn’t begrudge me obsessing over Henry like a shiny new bauble to play with. Especially once she inevitably dragged out as much information as she could on Monday about what Henry and I had got up to last night. But that didn’t lessen the guilt I felt.

I jumped when something heavy was thrown at the wall that separated my apartment from my neighbor. It only took a few seconds before the yelling started. It’d been quiet over the past few hours, but it was early Saturday evening, which meant it wouldn’t be long before the yelling would turn into screaming, screaming would turn into the sound of gunshots, and gunshots would turn into the sound of police sirens. Every Saturday night was the same, and I was sick and tired of it.

I wanted to be back at Henry’s.

My iron let out a hiss of steam, making me glare at it before I sighed. “You agree with me, don’t you?”

The iron didn’t respond.

Pity.

Before I picked up my iron again, my phone beeped once more. Amy had decided she wanted to continue the conversation.

Amazing Amelia: What are you up to tonight? Still going out with Joy and Eric? Another public fisting, perhaps?

They’ve asked, but I’m not feeling it tonight.

Amazing Amelia: Gasp!

Amazing Amelia: I never thought I’d see the day where you refused an outing.

Amazing Amelia: What gives??

I stared at my phone without responding. She made a good point. Why didn’t I want to go out tonight? It was Pride Month. Every weekend during Pride, I would go out at least once during each weekend. I hadn’t gone out last night because I’d been over at Henry’s, which normally meant I’d be going out tonight.

But I didn’t want to.

I cupped my palms around my phone and held it against my chest, nibbling my bottom lip as I thought about what I actually wanted to do tonight.

It didn’t take me long to figure it out.

Ignoring Amy, figuring she’d forgive me by the time we saw each other tomorrow, I sent out a different message.

How’s the glitter bomb going?

Almost immediately, I saw the dancing dots appear to show Henry had seen my message and was responding. My heart fluttered a little in giddiness, then stalled when the dots disappeared.

“What?” I frowned at my screen. “No. No! You’re supposed to respond. Why aren’t you responding?” I shook my phone like that would somehow make him respond to me quicker. Didn’t he know I was waiting on him?

The sound of my phone ringing with an incoming video call jolted me enough to yelp and nearly lob the blasted device at the shared wall with my neighbor.

Only when I saw it was Henry that was calling did I fumble with the phone. Somehow all my fingers had turned into thumbs and now couldn’t hold the thing steady enough to swipe to answer the call.

I finally answered on the fourth ring, only to see the phone was now upside down.

Fuck. My. Life.

I closed my eyes and inwardly cursed at myself for being such a complete dumbass before slowly rotating the phone so I’d appear right side up on Henry’s screen. “Hi Henry. Sorry. Nearly dropped the phone.”

There was a long enough pause to make me lift one eyelid, then the other, and I saw Henry was grinning cheekily at me. “Hey, angel. I’ve missed you.”

A smile quickly spread over my face. He missed me! Sure, it’d only been a few hours, but he missed me! “I’ve missed you, too,” I whispered, wishing yet again that I was back at his place.

“What are you up to?” I could see him settle on his sofa, Sir Cattus quickly climbing onto his lap.

“Boring shit.” I angled the camera to my ironing board. “Want to keep me company while I finish up?”

“Of course.” A tiny frown appeared on his forehead. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Oh, God no.” I sat the phone on the TV cabinet and moved the ironing board in front of it so I could see him while I ironed. “Tell me about your day? Did you get the glitter bomb finished?”

“Almost. A few more tweaks tomorrow and it’ll be done. It should be ready for its first outing on Monday.”

“That’s great news!” I beamed at him, so proud of what he’d accomplished. I still couldn’t believe he’d gone to so much trouble just to help me out. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

He shook his head and looked off to the side of the screen. “I was probably just going to watch a movie or something. Nothing special.”

The iron glided over my shirt as I carefully pressed around the buttons. “Oh yeah? What movie?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe an action comedy from a few years ago with that actor that was outed earlier today? I feel like I should support him, because it sounds like he’s been getting a ton of hate on social media.”

My ears perked up, but I kept ironing. “An actor was outed? Who?”

“Ruben Steele?” Henry scratched his temple in thought. “I’m pretty sure that’s who it was. Hang on, let me check.” His eyes narrowed and flew across the screen as he no doubt searched for the information online while I was still on the call with him. “Yeah. Ruben Steele.”

My iron hissed at me, and I startled when I realized I hadn’t moved it in a while. Thankfully, my shirt wasn’t burned, but it was a close call. I sat the iron on its end and stood at my ironing board, stunned. “Ruben Steele? Hollywood A-lister, Ruben Steele? Star of two recent Oscar nominated films and Hollywood sweetheart, Ruben—”

Henry laughed. “Yes, that Ruben Steele.” The humor dropped from his face, though, when he continued, “Poor guy. Apparently, one of his exes filmed them having sex and sold the footage to the highest bidder. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.”

“Holy fuck.” Ruben Steele had been starring in movies since he was a teenager, and conservative America adored him. No wonder it had been all over the news. I’d never had the option of choosing to come out or not, because I’d always been very obviously gay, but I couldn’t think of anything worse than being outed against my will. And to do it to someone so famous? It was times like these when I was glad that I didn’t live my life in the spotlight. “I hope he’s got some good friends supporting him at the moment. He’d be needing them.”

“Yeah.” His eyes refocused as he sat back on his sofa, his internet sleuthing apparently over for now. “Anyway, I was thinking of watching The Polka-Dot Whale . It’s been out a while now, and I figure it should be easy enough to find via one of the more common streaming services.”

I nodded absently, picking up the iron and attacking the last shirt. “You want some company? We could watch it together even though we’re both in our own homes. Grab some popcorn, settle in…”

Henry grinned. “That sounds perfect. Do you have much more ironing?”

I shook my head, furiously pressing the shirt in question to get it done quicker. “This is the last one. I haven’t eaten dinner yet though, so I’m going to need to grab something before we hit play.”

“That’s okay. We could eat dinner together, too.” He paused for a moment. “I mean, if you want to, of course.”

I paused my ironing for a moment just to peek at him and grin. “Of course I do, pocket bear. I think that’s a great idea. Dinner and a movie. I like it.”

Even with the iron hissing at me again when I pressed it down one last time, I could hear the breath he’d been holding release with relief. “Okay. Good. You could come over and watch it here if you want?”

Regrettably, I shook my head. “As much as I’d love to do that, I’ve still got a load of laundry in the wash. I need to hang around until it’s done.”

“That’s fair.” Henry nodded in understanding before scratching his chin in thought. “Are you doing anything tomorrow night? I’d like to take you out for a dinner somewhere.”

Grinning up a storm, I wiggled my eyebrows at him as I turned my iron off and stood it on its end to cool down before putting it away. “Are you asking me out on a date, pocket bear?”

He flushed, but he never moved his eyes from mine, his gorgeous eyes twinkling. “Maybe.”

“Then maybe I’ll have to say that I’m not doing anything tomorrow night and that I’d love to go to dinner somewhere with you,” I said, convinced that my eyes were sparkling just as much as his were. “Would six-thirty sound like a reasonable time?”

“That sounds perfect.” His eyes heated as they gazed at me through the screen. “If I can be so bold as to make one request?”

“Of course,” I replied, my curiosity piqued.

“Wear your lace?”

I felt my eyes hood with desire as my cock went from zero to one hundred in point two seconds flat. I licked my lips, seeing Henry’s now hooded eyes track the movement. “Oh, sweetheart. I would love nothing better than to do that. I can’t let you keep just one pair, can I?”

He remained silent but shook his head, eager as a puppy. I could see his arm move right before he let out a wanton groan. I couldn’t be sure, but I would have bet money that he was trying to press down on his hard cock.

“Maybe this time, I’ll wear white.” I watched his arm move again, this time being a lot more obvious in what he was doing. “You want me to be your angel, don’t you, pocket bear?”

“Yes…” He moaned as the sound of him jerking filled my phone’s speakers.

I leaned over my ironing board with one arm bracing me and ducked my other hand into my sweats to give my cock a slow stroke. Fuck, this wasn’t going to take long. “I’ll be your angel, Henry. The lace I have in mind is snow white. So pure.” I felt my cock thicken, so I wrapped my fingers around the base, strangling it so I could come at the same time as Henry.

I watched as his eyes closed and his head fell back onto the back of his sofa, the slick noise of him jerking getting me even closer.

Pushing my sweats down to free my cock, I stepped out from behind the ironing board so he could see me. “Open your eyes, pocket bear. I want to see you watch me.” His eyes flew open and bounced around the room before they settled on me and focused. “Can you see me, Henry? See what you’re doing to me?”

He licked his lips and nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen, even though I could see his arm moving faster.

“Move the camera back, sweetheart. I want to see you, like you can see me.”

Panting, Henry didn’t move the camera; instead, he moved himself further back, never removing his rolling hand from his cock as he shifted.

“Perfect. That’s perfect.” I let out a moan at the sight of his almost purple cock straining to come. “You look so good like that, all debauched for me. Sweating and panting for me.” I let my hand fly over my cock. “Can you imagine me wearing my white lace, Henry? You’ll see them tomorrow, but can you imagine what I would look like with them on now?”

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his hips shifting off the couch as he thrust his cock into his fist. “I’m close.”

“They hug my hips so well, Henry. Much tighter than the black ones I wore yesterday.”

He closed his eyes as he let out another groan, his hand moving so fast the camera was having trouble tracking it.

“Open your eyes, Henry.” I stayed quiet until he did as I demanded. “Good boy.”

“Oh, fuck… ”

At that, I changed direction. “You want to be my good boy, Henry?”

He whined, his brow furrowing as he watched me, then he nodded.

“Good boys wait to come, Henry. They wait until they’re given permission to come. You’ll wait for me, won’t you, Henry? Be my good boy?”

He slowed down on his shuttling.

“Uh uh, pocket bear. I didn’t say you could slow down.” I watched him pick up the pace again. “Good boy.”

He frantically licked his lips before he started to beg. “Please angel, I need to come. Will you let me come? The thought of you in white lace… it’s driving me insane. Let me come, please. Please.”

“You’ll get to see me in white tomorrow, Henry. And once you see it, I’ll want you to make it dirty. Do you think you could do that for me? Make my pure white lace dirty? Make me dirty?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, angel. Anything. As long as you let me come now. Please.”

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you, Henry? Such a good boy, waiting for me to come.” I felt my cock thicken and the base of my spine tingle. I was moments away from coming, just like he was. “You’re my good boy, Henry. Come for me, pocket bear. Make me proud.”

He roared, come exploding out of his cock, spurting so high up his torso it nearly hit his chin. His fist kept shuttling as he rode his orgasm out, panting in time with every spurt.

Seeing him let go made his name fall from my lips as I followed him over the edge. I hadn’t been able to see his orgasm face last night, but watching it now made me realize it was truly a thing of beauty. He fought to keep his eyes open and on me because I’d asked him to, and that obedience was heady enough for me to come harder than I had since I’d been a teenager.

Silence descended between us as we caught our breaths and settled, our eyes staying on each other.

“Well…” The corners of Henry’s lips tipped up in a barely there grin. “That was unexpected.”

I chuckled, still getting my breathing under control. “If that’s what it’s like when you haven’t even seen my white lace and we’re in different locations, I can only imagine what tomorrow’s going to bring when I’m wearing them in front of you.”

He groaned and tilted his head back onto the sofa, a full smile gracing his face. “God help me.”

“Not God,” I said, repeating his words from last night with a laugh. “Just your angel. Just your angel with his very own good boy.”

“Fuck me.”

“Tomorrow night? With absolute pleasure, pocket bear.”