Page 39 of Until We Fall

“D…” His eyes dart past me to where my phone lights up with a notification.

I keep looking at him, wondering if he’s going to talk. Instead, he nods at my phone, so I give him some space and twist to snag it off the bedside table then smile at the screen.

“Look.” I tilt it toward him. “My dad.”

In the family chat, right under the notification where it said I invited Rory, one of my dads typedWelcome, Rory!three times in a row followed by a gif of balloons.

Rory blinks at the screen. “I didn’t even accept. I…” His voice cracks. “Your dad is…”

My other dad replied too.So good to have you, Rory. Send some pictures of D. He’s always just sending pictures of you.

Rory clears his throat. “They really want me in there?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” I toss the phone aside and then rotate back to him. “Are you reading about Leo and Oliver?”

He smiles. “I started it over again. They’ve kinda become a comfort read for me, I guess. Whenever the world feels like too much, I pull them up. And things feel better for a while.”

“Will you read to me?”

He’s quiet long enough that I finally pick up my head to look up at him more directly. He’s studying me, eyes moving along my face, down my body where I’m still rock hard.

“You’d really want that?” he asks.

“I want to know what happens with them. And you know, I’m not all that great at reading. I’d rather listen to you.”

“Do you want me to start at the beginning?”

“If that’s cool.”

He swipes his reader awake.

Then he starts. The first words are in Leo’s point of view, telling us about this guy he’d seen. He’s completely entranced with Oliver, every little thing he does, every thought, every movement, every breath. Like Oliver is the most amazing man in the world, and Leo is just lucky to be anywhere in the vicinity of him.

I close my eyes and listen to Rory’s voice in the deep quiet of the night while I snuggle closer to him. And he snuggles back, right against me, clammy skin and rigid dick and all.

I sigh happily. I understand, Leo.

I’m there, too.

12

I go on a freckle hunt.

The morning sunlight warms across the sheets, illuminating Rory’s hair to a brilliant copper. My heart pitter-patters as I crawl over him, kissing the freckles on his neck, then sucking them, then tickling them with my tongue as he sighs and moans and laughs. I let him catch his breath for a few minutes, lingering over him with my dick hanging heavily in my lounge pants and a flush across my chest. Then I start the process all over again, and I keep doing it, kissing over the top of his t-shirt, down to his stomach, but careful to only touch him above his waist, although he doesn’t cover himself this time. He’s hard in his sleep shorts, and he moans when he accidentally brushes against my chest.

I don’t draw attention to it. I don’t want to risk breaking the moment. So I keep kissing and teasing him until he pushes his palms against my chest, laughing at me to stop. And I do, of course.

I’m so happy.

I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s our last full day here. I don’t know how the time went so fast, but I have a surprise for him.

“Bungee jumping.” I collapse onto my side and adjust my dick.

“Really?” He grins. “I’ve wanted to try that.”

“I know,” I say. “You mentioned it about two years ago.”

He blinks. “You remember?”

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