ten
Duke Dolce
I wake up slow on Christmas morning. It takes me a minute to orient myself, to know where I am and who I’m with, that I’m not at Ma’s brownstone in my childhood room with Baron. That I’m in my own home, in my bed, with Colt Darling curled up in my arms.
“Hey, you,” I mutter, still groggy from lack of sleep. “Merry Christmas.”
Giddy from our reunion, we stayed up half the night, teasing each other about missing Santa Claus and whether we could get ourselves on the naughty list before morning. It all felt like such a ridiculous dream that I halfway expected to wake up alone.
“Coffee,” Colt groans.
“Espresso okay?” I ask, sweeping the hair off the back of his neck and planting my lips there. It feels like a miracle that I can do that, that I’m allowed to. But then, Christmas is the time for that kind of thing, so I’m not questioning it.
“Mm,” he mumbles, pushing his ass back into my lap.
“Did you say coffee?” I ask. “Or cock?”
“Both,” he says. “Preferably in that order.”
“Okay, damn.” I swing my legs off the bed and grab a robe. “You could have just started with that.” I pad into the kitchen, calling back over my shoulder to tell him to use my toothbrush if he wants.
I stand at the espresso machine, marveling at each act. Each one feels sacred and meaningful, though I know each will be forgotten, blurred into all the other mornings that I make him a cup or call to him about where to find the toothpaste.
When the espresso is done, Colt still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom. I find him just where I left him, though I heard him up for a few minutes.
“Come back to bed, Candy Cane,” he says, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. With his shoulder-length blond mane all messy and wild first thing in the morning, he looks like a powerful lion.
I slide under the sheets with him again, tangling my legs with his. Cool morning light streams in through the windows, and the world below is still white except for the lanes where cars are already coasting by. But here, we’re warm and cozy.
“Did you change your mind about the order of things?” I ask, scooting close and sliding my hand up the back of his thigh.
“No, but listen,” he says. “I want to apologize. I was a dick to you yesterday morning.”
I didn’t expect an apology. He came back. That’s more than enough.
“Yeah,” I say. “You were. But I get it.”
He shakes his head. “That shit I said… It wasn’t even true.”
“I know.”
“If anything, I was the one stuck on the past.”
“How so?” I ask, searching his eyes.
“Not giving you credit for how you’ve changed,” he says. “Thinking you were still that guy who bullied me in high school. You’ve obviously done a lot of work on yourself.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
“I guess I’m the only part of the past you’re stuck in.”
“Hm, not yet I haven’t been,” I say, nuzzling into his neck.
“Really,” he says, nudging my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Duke. It looks like you’ve made quite the present and future for yourself. The truth is… I think I was a little jealous.”
“Don’t be,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him in. “This isn’t mine. It’s ours. I want to give it to you. All of it. Everything.”
“I can’t accept that.”
“You don’t like it?” I ask. “Because we can find somewhere else. We don’t have to stay here.”
“I like it,” he says. “It’s perfect. But I didn’t do any of the work. You did all this. Not me.”
I link my fingers through his, my right hand to his left, and graze my finger across the missing space where his middle finger should be. “Consider it payback,” I say. “I should be giving you a hell of a lot more than an apartment.”
“Oh yeah,” he says. “You still owe me a finger, and a lot of skin.”
“I think I can arrange for the finger,” I say, running my nose along his jawline, inhaling the masculine scent of him mingled with the familiar scent of my sheets. It sets me on fire, the smell of us together.
“You were right, though,” he says, his tone serious again. “I was running away.”
“You were right too,” I say. “I shouldn’t have dropped all that on you at once when you just came to fuck.”
“That’s not the reason I came,” he says, then cracks a grin. “At least, not the only reason.”
“You do keep finding me,” I say. “I’m starting to think you’re my stalker. Is that how you knew I was at the market, where you could ‘accidentally’ run into me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh, but I love flattery,” I tease. “Maybe you’re the moth. I’m the flame. That’s why you came back.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “Wouldn’t want to spook you again. You might run. I’ll just have to move to a higher building. Then you won’t run because you’ll know you can’t make it up the stairs when you come back.”
“Fuck you,” he says, shoving me playfully.
“I’m planning on it.” I roll over onto him, nudging his legs apart so I can fit between. “You always have to top?”
“Pretty much.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
He hesitates, then shakes his head. “No.”
“Would you?”
“Please don’t tell me you’re a top now.”
I can’t help but laugh at his defeated expression. “Only once in a while. Is that a problem?”
“No.” He runs his hands up my sides, around my shoulders. “It’s not a problem.”
“Would you bottom for me? Just once?”
He hesitates only a second and then nods. “For you? Yeah, of course I would.”
I lean down to kiss him, bracketing his head with my elbows. “Prove it.”
“Right now?”
I rub my nose against his. “Do I need to make an appointment?”
“Maybe,” he says, but I can already feel him hardening against me. “I think that requires some preparation. Especially with you. You’re hung like a fucking stallion, in case you didn’t know.”
“Oh, I know,” I say, smirking down at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll prep you.”
“You will, huh?” he asks, smirking back at me with that fucking piercing just below his lower lip making him look tough as fuck. I can’t wait to make him whimper for me.
“I will,” I say, adjusting my position so our hips are pressed together, my length against his. “I’ve been preparing for the last five years. You think I don’t have it planned to the very last detail?”
“You’ve been planning to fuck me for five years?”
“Maybe ten,” I say, fisting my fingers in his golden strands. “Planning, preparing, fantasizing… Wishing on stars.”
“That’s what you wished for? To fuck me?”
I let my lips dip to his before I whisper against them, “More.”
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“Then it won’t come true.”
“Too late,” he says, grinding up into me. “I wished to spend Christmas with you. So it already came true.”
“So has mine,” I murmur against his mouth. “You just haven’t said it yet.”
“Oh,” he says, and then his eyes grow serious again, and he goes still under me. “Oh… Of course I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“I love you,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I love you too,” I say, dropping my forehead to his, weak with relief that he said it. And so easily, like he’s known as long as I have. “I’ve always loved you, Colt.”
He slides his leg up the outside of mine, his strong thighs gripping my hips.
Lifting his hand, he wraps his fingers around my throat, forcing my head up, so I have to look him in the eye.
“I loved you too. I didn’t want to, but I did.
I couldn’t help myself. You’re brave and…
I don’t know how to say it. It sounds stupid. ”
“No, go on,” I say. “I like flattery, remember?”
“You’re special, Duke,” he says. “Really fucking special.”
“Special enough to forgive?” I ask, wanting to drop his gaze but forcing myself to hold it.
“Yes,” he says, and the relief that floods through me makes me want to cry. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”
I lean down, pressing my lips to his again for a longer, lingering kiss. When I pull back, his blue eyes are hazy with lust. “Is this really what you want?” I ask.
“I want you,” he says. “Now fuck me before I think you’ve changed your mind.”
“No,” I say, and I cover his mouth with my hand, so he can’t make jokes to ease the weight of the moment. “I’ll never not want you, Colt. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
His eyes search mine, and then he gives the slightest nod, his mouth still silenced by my palm.
But it’s my turn to speak at last, to say what I always should have said.
So I tell him the truth I’ve never told anyone, that I’ve been carrying for a decade.
“You’re it, Colt. For me, it’s you. Every wish, on every star, in every sky.
It always came back to you. You were always the flame. ”
Colt’s hand knocks mine away before snaking around the back of my neck. “Then burn with me,” he says, and he rises to meet me in a kiss.
The End.