14. Abbot #2
What Abbot wants? He wants to be here. Closer. As close as can be. “Some.” He hesitates, nerves washing through him, but the idea of a shared spot is just too sweet. “Have you thought at all about living together?”
“Course I have.”
There’s relief in that. More than Abbot knew he was hoping for. “Really?”
“Sure. I mean, we will, right?”
Right. Ned makes it sound so simple. “Should we take Steve up on his offer of a house?”
“Wouldn’t that end up being funny.” Ned brushes his fingers over Abbot’s cheek. “But seriously, you move down here, we get our feet under us, and then we have all the time in the world to figure out the rest of life.”
Oh. That’s not now, in his answer. That’s waiting for more time to pass by them.
Though it’s Ned, and didn’t Pat just say it takes him ages to come around to a new idea? What really matters is that Ned is different from any man who came before him. The simple assumption that there’s a future for them to move toward and that they’ll continue to be together when it comes.
Abbot leans in and kisses him. We will, Ned said, just as easy as that. Moving in together is a matter of when and not if, and Abbot can’t help his smile. “Will I have to formally ask Baxter if he wants to move in, as well?”
Ned grins. “Yeah, there’s an entire application process. References too, and probably a sacrifice of at least one pair of shoes for him to chew up.”
“And an endless supply of bones.”
“Yeah, we’ll be busy.”
Abbot shifts so Ned is under him. “Perhaps we should start now.”
Ned leans back into the pillows. “Yeah?”
“Is Peggy asleep?”
“She was when I left.”
“Convenient.” Abbot moves down his body.
“Mom’s awake, though.”
Abbot presses his forehead to Ned’s sternum, breathing him in, and slips a hand up under his shirt.
So they’ll be quiet, though they always are here.
Subdued and as discreet as they can manage, trying to ensure it’s only the shift of the blankets that’s audible, and even that surely doesn’t carry beyond the closed door.
Abbot kisses his chest through the fabric of his sweatshirt. “You’ll have to keep quiet, then.”
Ned’s hands fall to Abbot’s head and he noses the hem up enough to kiss his stomach. “I will,” Ned says, and his stomach twitches a little at Abbot’s next kiss.
“That remains to be seen.” Abbot brushes his nose over the front of Ned’s jeans.
Ned jumps and Abbot pulls back, surprised. Though it’s not the hint of contact to the growing ridge of his cock that startled Ned, but Baxter, whose nose is pressed to the skin revealed by Ned’s sweatshirt riding up.
“That’s cold,” Ned says and pushes the dog’s head away. “Go lay down.”
Abbot squeezes his thigh, bending back to the enticement of his zipper and the button on his jeans.
Baxter paws at the bed.
“Bax, please.” Ned points to his desk and the dog bed beneath it. “Lay down there.”
Baxter does, and Ned gives him one last glance, apparently satisfied he’s sufficiently settled because he’s rolling over Abbot and he lets Ned press him deliciously down into the bed.
He finds Ned’s mouth to kiss and loosely drapes his arms over his shoulders, laying there for a long moment to enjoy the give and take of their lips, the warm weight of his body, and the fact of being here, in bed together.
This is what he thinks about during those long nights alone, trying to conjure the details of Ned’s foot rubbing against his, exactly how the hair on the back of his head slips between his fingers.
And yes, the growing energy between them, a subtle shift of Ned’s hips that could be him just getting comfortable, but he repeats it, and then does it a third time, and Abbot answers with a tilt of his own, rising up to rub against layers of clothing.
“I really want to fuck you,” Ned whispers.
Abbot digs his fingers into his shoulders. “Can you be quiet?”
“Hell no.” Ned rolls his hips again.
Abbot arches against him. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a bad idea, but yes.”
“We’re full of those these days.” Ned grabs for the drawer in the nightstand.
Abbot lifts Ned’s sweatshirt while he’s stretched out, raising it up his torso and over long arms, Ned reemerging with a grin and dropping the bottle of lube between the two pillows.
Abbot pulls him back down and kisses him, shoving at his pants and his boxers, and Ned kicks them off toward the bottom of the bed. That’s so much better, Ned hardening in Abbot’s hand as he squeezes him, a small sound escaping Ned’s throat as they kiss.
“Quiet,” Abbot whispers, smiling against his mouth.
“I am—oh—quiet,” Ned says, dropping his head to the pillow beside Abbot’s.
“Quieter.” Abbot goads him with his thumb circling the head of his cock just how Ned likes.
“Oh,” Ned says, louder, but it’s muffled in the pillow.
Abbot does it again just to hear the moan. “Like that?” As if he doesn’t know by now.
“That feels so good.”
“More?”
“Yes. No.” Ned turns and kisses him, his face too close, his movements a little clumsy now, Abbot’s glasses wedged between them. Abbot frees them with his other hand and Ned puts them on the nightstand. Abbot quickly takes off his watch, too.
Abbot wraps his arm low over Ned’s waist as they kiss, keeping him pinned as his own body reacts.
It’s good. It’s always good, this eagerness building between them.
Ned, who is so fully in the moment when they’re together and Abbot finds he can meet him there.
He doesn’t worry whether Ned’s enjoying himself when he so clearly is, or what Ned wants when he’s so plain in his words, so keen in whatever they try.
They fit together. Work together, and the forceful, overwhelming attraction Abbot’s always felt for Ned shifts into just plain fun.
Other men were worry and anxiety and fretting over what he was doing wrong, but it’s Ned in bed with him now, and Abbot smiles at him.
“You have to take your socks off too,” Abbot whispers.
“C’mon,” Ned says, rubbing eagerly into his hand.
“I have standards.”
“I couldn’t think about anything else all through dinner.”
“A warm grain salad wasn’t riveting enough?”
“No and neither are damn socks.” Ned struggles with the blankets as he twists and turns to reach his feet.
Abbot strips off the shorts he wears to bed here, the T-shirt he kept on. It’s one of Ned’s, worn and threadbare and it smells of him, but Abbot happily trades it for Ned himself, the press of bare skin and the air beneath the blankets growing warm and humid as they kiss.
Baxter whines.
“You’re fine,” Ned says to him, barely pausing in their kiss. “Stay over there.”
Abbot spreads his legs, letting Ned settle between them. Yes, perfect, that anticipation building, the ridge of Ned’s cock between them and Abbot’s too. This is what he wants, Ned’s weight, their focus on each other.
Ned jerks.
“Are you alright?” Abbot asks.
“Cold wet dog nose,” Ned says, rubbing at his arm. “Baxter, c’mon, man.”
But Baxter whines, a high, thready pitch, and shifts his weight back and forth, his paws tapping the floor.
“You can’t have to go out right now. I just took you out,” Ned says.
Baxter jogs the few short steps to the bedroom door and then looks back, clearly wanting Ned to follow.
“I love you, but seriously,” Ned mutters.
The dog paws at the door, his entire body squirming, and Ned swears as he kicks the blankets back.
No, Abbot nearly says, but what is Ned going to do? Ignore the dog? He won’t, and Abbot wouldn’t either, but he still misses Ned’s body against his as Ned hops on one foot, shoving his legs into his jeans, wincing as he fastens them.
Abbot lays back, staring at the ceiling as the door opens and closes, Ned’s footfalls descending the stairs and Baxter’s steps a clatter of paws.