Page 70 of Must Love Christmas

For a fleeting moment, Garen recalled the whole reason he’d stayed out of Simon’s bed to begin with: They lived together, and if this…thing between them went wrong, it could make life in this flat at best awkward and at worst heartbreaking.

But right now, drowning in Simon’s hands and mouth, drunk on the feel of this lithe body under his palms and fingertips, Garen couldn’t imagine anything less wrong.

Even as he hurried down the hall to fetch the lube and condom, his certainty remained. Because this time, it wasn’t just lust, it wasn’t just the magnetic pull of pheromones. After the last month, the gravity between them was built of something more tender and wise than anything Garen had ever felt.

He returned to Simon’s room to find him with the duvet pulled nearly up to his chin, biting his lip in concentration as he fumbled beneath the covers with what looked like an effort to undress.

“Let me do that for you,” Garen said.

“I can take off my own trousers.”

“But it’s so much sexier if I do it.” Garen set the condom and lube bottle on the bedside table. When he went to peel back the covers, Simon stopped him.

“I don’t look the way I looked before.”

Confused, Garen glanced toward Simon’s crotch.

“That’s still the same.” Simon let go of the covers. “I mean my muscles.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Garen said as he pulled down the duvet, “but you were never Mister Universe. You are a long-distance runner, after all.”

“But even my legs are like sticks now.”

“Your legs are beautiful, just like the rest of you.” He knelt between Simon’s thighs, careful not to tickle his belly as he drew back the open flaps of his unzipped trousers. Garen swirled a palm over the bulge in the front of Simon’s black boxer briefs.

“You’re right,” Simon gasped out. “This is much sexier.”

“I telt you.” Garen gave him a wicked grin as he pulled off the trousers and briefs together. He tossed them to the floor, then ran his hands up Simon’s thighs. Not only were they not “sticks,” they actually seemed more substantial than before, no doubt due to Simon’s rehab regimen and the fact he wasn’t burning away every superfluous ounce by running. “Does that feel all right?”

Simon’s eyes closed. “Feels amazing.”

“I wanted to do this to you when you were in hospital, just throw off your covers and massage your legs. Not for therapeutic purposes, or even to turn you on. Just to touch you.”

Simon opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it and simply nodded.

Garen imagined what it must have been like for Simon all those weeks, having people handle his body so clinically—like it was an object to manipulate, not a bit of divinity to worship. He wanted to give Simon’s body all the adoration it deserved.

“Is it okay if I taste you?” Garen asked.

Simon gave a short, sharp inhalation. “Oh, please.”

Garen bent over and drew Simon’s cock into his mouth.

“God…” Simon’s heels scraped against the mattress as his thighs folded in to embrace Garen. Then he gathered Garen’s hair in his hands and pulled it back from his face.

Garen looked up to see Simon gazing down at him. He smiled and took him deeper, to the back of his throat, relishing the noises of delight. He grasped Simon’s hips with both hands, thinking of how soon he’d be grasping them with his legs.

Soon Simon tugged Garen’s head up. “I’ll come if you keep doing that. And I really want to fuck you, so…”

“No arguments here.” Garen handed him the lube bottle and hurried to remove the rest of his own clothes. Then he shifted up to straddle Simon’s waist so he could reach. “I could do this myself if you—oh…” He lost all words as he felt the gentle press of Simon’s fingertip against his hole. This warm, wet, welcome invasion sent a shudder up his spine, all the way to his shoulders. He clutched the top of the headboard to steady himself. “Yes…more.”

He got more. As the sensations spread and intensified, Garen was aware of Simon’s eyes upon his face, watching his reaction to every twitch and wiggle of finger.

When he found himself grinding down upon Simon’s hand, desperate to be filled, he knew he was ready. But first he had to confirm, just in case.

“You still want this?” Garen asked as he fumbled with the condom, his pulse pounding.

“More than ever,” Simon breathed, his face the picture of eager affirmation.

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