Chapter 15 #3
Lucas shook his head back and forth, back and forth, soothing himself as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him. “C-can’t. Can’t.”
Frankie removed a finger and began to gently pump two into his hole, slowing down like he was waiting for Lucas to breathe easier and relax. “May I ask you something?”
“I use a bidet,” Lucas said.
Frankie froze.
“To wipe my ass.”
There was a beat, and then Frankie tumbled out a laugh and leaned over, nipping Lucas’s thigh hard enough to make it sting. “You’re a fucking brat.”
Lucas grinned. “You turn me into a princess, you get a brat.”
He could feel the curve of Frankie’s smile against his leg as the older man kissed him again. “I was going to ask…” He hesitated, and Lucas knew then it was one of those tender questions most sighted people were afraid to ask him.
The ones that wanted to know how he knew when to stop wiping, or how he knew he was gay if he couldn’t see men, they were the bold ones. Frankie’s question was going to come from a place that was genuine and probably kind.
“I will answer anything you want to know,” Lucas promised, his voice still a little weak from the fact that Frankie was still fingering the hell out of him. He shifted his hips so the touch would graze his prostate, and he lost himself in the sensation of it racing up his spine.
“What does gorgeous mean to you?”
“Hmm?”
“Men have called me that in the past. To them, I knew it meant they liked my face and my body. I was always told I have pretty eyes and a nice smile.”
“I felt your smile when you kissed me. It is nice,” Lucas said.
Frankie laughed softly. “Thank you. But…I know it’s different with you. You don’t have to answer, but I’d like to try and understand.”
No one had ever said that before. He’d had friends and family sometimes put on blindfolds and stumble around the house as though they were moving in some kind of solidarity with him, even though he hated that performative bullshit.
But no one had ever asked him to describe his own experience. They thought cosplaying as non-sighted for ten minutes answered all their questions. They never wanted to know how it was for him.
“Your voice reminds me of cinnamon. Like the kind you put in a holiday pie. Rich and warms you from the inside out,” he said, gently rocking his hips on Frankie’s hand.
“Your skin has so much life to it. Smooth parts, scarred parts. Rough facial hair and tender lips. Your grip is strong, and you know how to touch me without making it hurt. All of that, to me, is gorgeous.”
Frankie kissed his thigh again and gently began to work his fingers out of Lucas’s ass.
Lucas wanted to whine and beg for more, but he knew what was coming. He heard Frankie tear open the box. He heard the crinkle of a condom, felt the way he shifted from left to right to keep his balance on his legs as he rolled the condom over his dick.
Then Frankie took him by the ankles and lifted his legs before moving one hand down. The condom didn’t feel good pressing against his hole—like crumpled plastic. And then he gave a single thrust, and he was halfway in.
Lucas grunted hard as he took it—bearing down slightly, holding his breath, then letting go. He felt himself relax as the discomfort and fullness of it all started to give way to something else. Something deeper. Richer. Overwhelming, but in a way he wanted to be overwhelmed.
“Yes.”
Frankie hovered over his chest. Lucas could feel the soft puffs of his breath and the heat off his skin. “Kiss me.”
Lucas lifted his head off the pillow an inch, and his lips met Frankie’s. His tongue dipped into Lucas’s mouth, tasting every inch of him as he rolled his hips and pushed in deeper and deeper, so fucking deep that Lucas felt he was going to split open.
And fuck, it was so good. It was everything he’d ever wanted it to be.
His hands flew to Frankie’s hips, urging him to move faster. Harder.
“Yes, princess. I’ve got you,” Frankie was murmuring as he began to speed up. “Anything you want. Everything I have, it’s yours. Love watching you like this. Love watching you take me. Love what a mess you are—the way you fall apart. Fuck, fuck.”
Lucas heard the words, but they had very little meaning as his body began to feel like it was full of soda fizz.
Pleasure was sparking and popping, and he didn’t know where his body ended and Frankie’s began.
He was only aware of his legs as he wrapped them around Frankie’s middle, and only aware of his arms as he lifted them to dig his fingers into the back of Frankie’s neck.
“Need it. Need it,” Lucas begged. He wanted to give Frankie what he’d asked for—to come untouched on his cock alone, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too much. “Your hand—please.”
Frankie grunted, then trembled as he braced himself on one arm to use the other, grabbing Lucas’s cock in a tight grasp. He began to jack him off as hard as he was fucking his ass, and Lucas was immediately lost.
He wanted to slow down. He wanted to speed up. He wanted to come now. And he wanted it to last forever.
In the end, his body decided for him. The roughness of Frankie’s palm and the way he was slamming against his prostate was enough. He took in a single breath, stuttering on the exhale, and then he let go.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought, Who the fuck is crying? And then he realized the sobbing sound was him. It was a mixture of cries and moans tumbling from his lips as his body arched forward, and he buried his face in Frankie’s neck.
Frankie let his cock go, grabbing him with both hands and shoving all the way inside him, rolling and nudging his cock as deep as it could go. And just as Lucas’s orgasm began to ebb away, he felt Frankie thicken inside him.
Then his cock throbbed several times, the heat in his ass telling him that he’d filled the condom.
He was gasping for breath before it was over, collapsing down onto the pillows. Frankie followed him, smudging messy kisses along his face and neck as he slipped out and rolled to the side. His wet, condom-covered dick flopped against Lucas’s hip, making him cringe.
“Shit. Sorry,” Frankie slurred. He rolled away, and Lucas felt him moving around, assuming he was pulling the offending bit of latex off. When he came back, he pulled the sheet between them before wrapping his body around Lucas.
He wanted to cry at the understanding and kindness of it all. In the haze of his own undoing, Frankie was still so aware of what Lucas needed.
“Thank you,” Frankie said after a beat.
Lucas pulled back, his mouth half-open. “Thank me? Me? The virgin who—”
“Who gave me the best sex of my life,” Frankie said before Lucas could come up with anything else. Lucas froze, and Frankie cleared his throat. “I’m not taking it back. I’m sorry. It was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
Lucas had no idea what to say, so he rolled over and pressed his fingers to Frankie’s jaw. His beard was a little longer than it had been yesterday. Not enough that a sighted person would know it, but he could feel it. His fingers moved through it a bit easier tonight.
“This might only make sense to me because I’m autistic, and I enjoy certain sensations and smells that other people don’t,” he said very quietly.
“But to me, you’re a forest floor.” He took a beat, but he didn’t feel Frankie tense up like he was being fucking weird.
“Rich, earthy, soft in places, unforgiving in others. A little wild.” He leaned forward until his nose touched Frankie’s pec.
“I feel surrounded by trees—by shadows with flecks of warm sun. Your breath is the stream in the background. Your heartbeat is the wind through leaves.”
Frankie brushed a touch down the back of Lucas’s neck.
“I feel safe with you.”
After a beat, Frankie tipped Lucas’s chin up and kissed him. “I think I understand.”
Lucas bit his lip until it hurt, and then he let go. “Do you?”
“You’re a sunset. A soft brightness—like you don’t mind being seen, but you’re not trying to outshine anyone. Your beauty just…exists. No pomp, no circumstance. You ask the world to accept you exactly as you are. I would watch a sunset for hours if I had the chance to, but I don’t.”
“So you watch me?”
Frankie let his lips rest against Lucas’s jaw, and he smiled. “So I watch you. I hope that’s okay.”
Lucas pulled him even closer, until their chests were touching. He knew he’d regret it if he moved the sheet away because he couldn’t handle the sticky sensation of body fluids and cold lube, but he wished in that moment he could feel his skin.
“It’s okay,” he said, probably after too long. But Frankie didn’t seem annoyed. He just sighed very softly and kissed him one more time.
“Fenton will be here soon.”
“You want me to leave?” Lucas asked. He knew it was only fair, but his throat went a little thick anyway.
Frankie sighed against him, then held him tighter. “You can say no, but…I’d like you to stay and meet him. Only if you want.”
Lucas felt himself unable to hide his smile. “Yeah. I want.”
He was kissed for that answer too.