Chapter 4 #3
Gabriel spread it over the floorboards. He gestured for Blake to sit. “I’ve brought some canned pears, Graham Crackers, chocolate, marshmallows, and best of all…” he waggled his empty fingers. “No candles.”
Blake laughed as he reached for the bag of marshmallows. They were stale, but maybe if they grilled them, they’d get gooey enough not to notice. “How did you manage to get an entire bar of chocolate?” he asked.
Gabriel made a face. “Beaumont. I swear he knows everything. Came up to me and offered a bar he’d been saving for our date. I don’t even know how he found out.”
Because a man with a secret makes it his business to know everyone else’s, but Blake didn’t say that.
Blake hunted for good roasting sticks in the yard while Gabriel heated up the grill. By the time he got back to the porch, it was warm enough to relax as they began assembling their smores.
“I think you can tell a lot about a person by how much they roast their marshmallow,” Blake said conversationally as he gently turned his over the heat, waiting until the rounded edges took on the faintest golden glow before sliding it off the stick with the cracker.
“Is that so?” Gabriel began roasting his marshmallow, keeping it close to the grill.
“Yeah,” Blake gently placed a square of chocolate on top of his marshmallow. “For instance, I heat my marshmallows enough for them to get gooey, and the heat melts the chocolate just enough that it all mixes together for the perfect bite.”
He demonstrated by hefting his dessert up and biting into it. Flavors exploded in his mouth, sugar hitting his bloodstream faster than a greyhound. It was so good he didn’t even notice the stale graham crackers.
Gabriel watched him out of the corner of his eye as he let his entire marshmallow burst into flames, twisting it until every inch was a smoldering, black ruin.
“And you, are clearly a savage. Why don’t you just eat the charcoal?”
Gabriel took that as a challenge and kept trying to get Blake to taste his desiccated monstrosity, wiggling the smoking marshmallow in front of his lips as if it could somehow tempt him.
They ate the entire bag, chatting as they cooked. Gabriel’s eyes darkened every time Blake licked the gooey mess off his lips. He would stare, unabashedly, until Blake squirmed and told him off. Or flicked crumbs at him.
Just as the sun was beginning to set, and the sugar was sitting low in their stomachs, Gabriel pulled Blake to him. He wrapped his arms around him, settling Blake’s back to his chest as they watched the clear, winter sky change colors.
“Are you cold?”
Blake shook his head. “Are you?”
Gabriel hugged him tighter, burying his nose in the fine hairs behind Blake’s ear to kiss the back of his neck. It tickled, and Blake squirmed, pinching Gabriel in the thigh for it.
“You know, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this date,” Gabriel said, thumb stroking Blake’s wrist.
“Why?”
Blake could feel Gabriel shrug behind him. “You’ve read so many romantic books and stuff. I didn’t think I could compare.”
The thought was laughable. There was a large difference between fiction and reality; a man on paper could do anything the author could dream of—situation be damned. It’s easy to fall in love when everything is perfect.
And this was about as far from perfect as Blake could imagine.
The world had ended, and every day was a fight for their lives.
They bathed in buckets of cold river water.
Blake was clinging to what was left of his sanity with blood-stained fingers.
Gabriel spent weeks in a dead city, hiding and running, just so they could have a chance for information, and still he worried that the efforts he spent organizing a date—something so frivolous in times so dark that it was almost like a black comedy—would not be enough.
Blake twisted so he could look up at Gabriel.
His eyes were Blake’s favorite shade, shifting from their gray of earlier to a warm caramel with the setting sun.
It always reminded him of sunshine through a glass of whiskey.On the rocks, so the ice fractured the light into dozens of little pinpoints, stars on a cloudless night.
He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.
Blake cupped Gabriel’s face and brought him close so they could kiss.
If a picture was worth a thousand words, then this kiss must be worth a million because so much was exchanged without a single uttered syllable.
Their lips parted only so they could press again, slow and deep, with Blake’s fingers stroking the stubble on Gabriel’s cheeks.
Gabriel brushed Blake’s hair back, knocking the hair tie from the tiny nub.
It fell to the blanket as Blake’s hair tickled his eyes, nose, and cheeks.
Gabriel played with it, running his fingers through the crimped strands, occasionally tightening his grip so he could shift Blake’s face to deepen their kiss, change the angle, or allow him freedom to nibble at his plush bow.
Focused on the press of Gabriel’s kiss, Blake didn’t realize they were making out. Unhurried, just enjoying the feel of being together, with only the occasional brush of teeth and small huff when one of them got too enthusiastic.
They hadn’t had a chance to do this before. While they’d done everything they could think of in the privacy of their motel room, they hadn’t done this. The simple act of just kissing without the need to escalate, the heat between them a comforting simmer rather than an enflaming blaze.
Then Gabriel shifted, and Blake could feel the hard line of his erection pressing against him, and it was like someone turned up the heat. The simmer turned to a boil, and all of Blake’s blood rushed to his dick.
It had been so long for both of them that the moment their dicks entered the picture, their sweet kisses turned biting.
Gabriel’s fingers dug into Blake’s scalp, more insistent as his tongue licked against his teeth.
It felt like being devoured. Blake was helpless, not sure if he needed a moment to breathe, or if he wanted to let go and let Gabriel breathe for him.
Because that’s what it was like to be with Gabriel. He was quiet and affable on the outside, but once he was alone, he was all-consuming. He needed every part of Blake, and Blake? He loved it.
With Gabriel, the incessant churning in his mind stopped. Everything came to a screeching halt, and in its absence, blissful silence where Blake could simply feel. He could exist in his skin and the pleasure Gabriel brought him.
He was still bitter. That twinge of guilt, of anger, was still burning in his throat, but here, now, in Gabriel’s arms…Blake chose not to care. He chose to take this moment, this man, and let the rest stay back at the motel with its scratchy sheets and dusty corners.
The floorboards creaked under them as he shifted, sliding into Gabriel’s lap.
His big hands grabbed Blake’s hips, slipping under his pants to touch his skin.
His fingers were cold, and Blake gasped as they dug into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling his cock against Gabriel’s.
Pleasure spiked up Blake’s back, and his head fell back, mouth open.
Gabriel dragged his teeth against Blake’s neck. “You want me to fuck you in a little old church lady's house?”
Blake rolled his hips, smirking when Gabriel’s eyes rolled back.
“Nah. I picture her as more of a chill high school art teacher. Always drinking green tea and wearing handmade shawls. She hosts wine and séance nights on the weekends with her sapphic book club.” Blake dragged his nose along Gabriel’s.
“I think she’d want us to fuck in her house. ”
Gabriel chuckled, fingers flexing to pull Blake’s ass cheeks apart. “Well, when you put it in that oddly specific way—”
He rolled them so Blake landed on his back, legs spread around Gabriel’s hips.
It was a position he’d been in before; he loved it.
There was something about the vulnerability of spreading his legs, of feeling Gabriel press them apart and hold him down with his weight.
Unabashedly pressing his hard erection against Blake, showing him just how strong, how virile, how powerful he is.
How he could take Blake if he wanted—but he didn’t want.
He wanted Blake to give in to him. To welcome him between his legs.
And he did.
Blake’s new normal was an influx of emotions, a constant whiplash of fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, guilt, and pain. It was exhausting. A wind tunnel he couldn’t step out of because one wrong move and he’d be knocked on his ass. Finished.
But being horny was easy. Especially with Gabriel, where his mere touch could silence it all.
Mute his brain, and zero his focus onto just them.
There was no room for anything else in the millimeters of space between them.
Not when it was filled to the brim with this want that superseded anything else.
A north star that all his nerves turned to, yearned for, and in that blissful silence, where everything was touch and feel, he would grab onto that direction. Let it lead him to something better.
Let Gabriel lead him.
Despite the grill’s warmth, Blake shivered when Gabriel took off his shirt.
Gabriel’s hands chased the goosebumps on Blake’s skin, rolling over the planes of his ribs, the divot of his belly button, around his hips, before leaning down to follow that same path with his mouth.
Gabriel’s tongue was hot as he took Blake’s nipple into his mouth.
He worked it to a peak before swapping to the other side.