Chapter 9 Tobík #2
“Your hand on me is the best thing I’ve ever felt.” I say it plainly because there’s no other way I can say it. “You can feel how hard I am. That happened the second you walked through my door. It happens every time you’re in a room. I’m tired of hiding it.”
Something crosses his face. Hunger. He pulls my briefs down and his hand wraps around my cock, skin on skin, his grip unsteady at first. My hips go forward into his fist and his grip gets stronger.
“Fuck,” he says. “You’re so hard. From just…”
“From you. Just you.”
He strokes me. The grip is firm, almost too firm, and then he adjusts, reads my breathing the way he reads a striker’s run, calibrates.
His thumb swipes across the head where the pre-come has gathered and the slickness makes the next stroke liquid and devastating and my hand grabs his forearm and holds on.
“I want to learn every inch of you,” he says. “Tell me if I should stop.”
He moves down my body. His mouth finds my chest. My stomach. My hip.
He takes my cock into his mouth. He adjusts while his mouth is on me, careful, reading what makes my breathing change and doing more of that.
My hand finds his hair. “Damián.” My voice has gone somewhere I don’t recognize. “You don’t have to…”
He looks up. His mouth is swollen. His eyes are steady. “I want to.”
“You...”
“Let me, Tobík. Let me.”
I let him. I let him because his eyes are saying I’ve decided and saying no to that decision would be a cruelty I’m not capable of tonight for either of us.
His mouth is patient and unhurried and somewhere in the middle of it a sound comes out of him, low and surprised, the sound of someone discovering that he likes what he’s doing.
That sound sends me over the edge and I tug at his hair to try and pull him off. He keeps my cock in his mouth as I come with his hand on my hip. He works me through my orgasm.
When I am wrung out, he moves up and kisses me. His mouth tastes like me and that taste in his mouth is information I’m going to be thinking about for the rest of my life.
He pulls up, leaning on his forearm looking down at me. “You are so gorgeous. I loved doing that to you. Hearing the sounds you made.” He kisses me again, the kiss turning from soft and gentle to needy in the space of seconds.
I push him onto his back and pull his shorts and briefs down at once. He is hard, thick, his cock flushed dark and curving slightly upward, and the sight of him bare in my bed makes my mouth go dry.
I take him in my hand first. He watches my hand on his cock with an expression I don’t have equipment to translate.
Then I take him in my mouth and I learn him the way he learned me except I’ve done this before and I know what I’m doing.
His hand finds my hair and stays there, careful.
His hips lose their discipline. His breath comes in pieces.
“Tobík. I can’t…I’m not going to last.”
I pull off his cock and look up at him. “You don’t have to last.”
“I want this to last.”
“There will be more. Trust me. It’s not ending.”
When he comes he says my name twice, Tobík, Tobík, the second one almost not making it out of him. The intimacy of that act, the having of him, makes something in my chest go very quiet and very full at the same time. Six years of wanting. Three years of almost.
I move up and lie down beside him. He pulls me against him. His chest is still rising fast and his arm is heavy across my waist. His breathing evens out. Mine matches his. The fan keeps turning.
He turns his head. He’s smiling. Not the half-smile. Not the controlled one. A full, open, wrecked, real smile. I’ve never seen this one before.
“I should’ve done this in Brno.”
“You did it now. Maybe now was the right time.”
“You think so?”
“Brno didn’t have lamb barbacoa. Brno didn’t have the fan. Brno didn’t have my window.”
The smile widens. He pushes the hair off my forehead with his thumb.
“I’ve been with women my whole life. Women I cared about.
And every time I was the right version of myself.
Attentive. Careful. Present. Or I thought I was.
I didn’t know there was a difference between doing it well and being fully in it until tonight.
Tonight I wasn’t doing anything well. I was just here.
My whole body was just here. I didn’t know it hadn’t been before. ”
His thumb traces my jawline.
“I didn’t know my body could feel like mine,” he says.
I don’t say anything right away because what he just said is the truest thing I’ve ever heard him say and I don’t want to put a word on top of it. I let the cicadas work. Then I reach up and push his hair back the way he pushed mine.
“I’m glad that happened here with me,” I say.
“What happens tomorrow?” he asks, still smiling.
“Tomorrow you have a team breakfast at eight. I have a skate at ten. The world keeps going.”
“And this?”
“This keeps going too.” I run my fingers along his jaw.
He nods slowly.
“Can I stay?”
“You can stay.”
“Until when?”
“Until you have to go.”
He kisses me. A soft one. He pulls me against him and his arm goes around my waist and his nose settles against the back of my neck and his body goes heavy against mine and I close my eyes.