Page 57 of Baking Battles

“I haven’t seen you for weeks either, remember? I promised Sara. We are just dropping her off with Sara’s parents, and then we can disappear.”

That is a bit of a lie, Mattias knows that, because he would rather gouge his eyes out with razor blades than go and spend time with Sara’s parents, but right now? He has no choice. He has managed to be all adult, and compromise and has made an approved and agreed schedule of managing Emi’s care over the next couple of days, and he is sticking to it, come hell or high water. He can do this. He has to, for himself, for Sara, and mostly for all of their combined sanity so they can all just fucking chill.

He needs this. He needs time. He needs. He doesn’t really know what he needs. Well he does. Dick. He needs dick and sex and cuddles and time where he can just disappear into himself and… feel. He knows that now. It makes him all warm on the inside every time he thinks about it. He likes sex, with Christopher. And he probably liked it sometimes with Sara too. He just needed to relax, and not be so uptight about it. Perhaps. Fuck knows.

He takes charge, and drags them home, so Christopher can shower, and he gets Emi dressed in something he hopes Sara will approve of. Brushes her fine baby hair into some sort of tidiness, that her winter hat will squash before long anyway. Not that it matters, she’s a baby, and he doesn’t own any hair bows or ties for her hair. Unless Sara has put any in the bottom of one of her endless shopping bags, that he is currently digging through trying to find a spare pair of tights that will go with the dress Emi is wearing. Because he will need spares, just in case. You never know with kids, and Sara will have a meltdown if he brings Emi in and she has had an accident or…

“Relax.” Christopher says softly, suddenly standing behind him. “Whatever it is, it’s fine. I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way from the bathroom.”

“It’s… I just don’t think I can take any drama today. I’m just too wound up.”

“Why?” Christopher says, and wraps his arms around Mattias. Holds him tight against his chest, letting his mouth rest somewhere in Mattias’s neck. Comfort. It’s comfort and it makes his body melt into nothing. Like nothing else matters as long as he has this. And Emi, who he can hear crashing around in her room, no doubt turning her toy boxes upside down.

“I want… I just want a good life, and a good Christmas, where everyone is happy, and where I can fall asleep next to you every night. I don’t want any drama and I don’t want to argue, and I want to be good enough.”

“I don’t know where all that has come from, but right now, baby, you are damn-well good enough. I know Sara puts you down, I get that, but, I don’t think she realises she does it, nor how much it affects you. Or maybe she doesn’t mean it the way you perceive it? I think you need to have a talk, just sit down like adults so you can stop being so… nervous? I think… I think we need to work on this. Of slowing things down and realising that we are good at this. You and me. We are quite good at being us, we are quite good at being Emi’s people, all of us. You and me and Sara. We just have to figure out how to balance it all.”

“You are talking a load of shite.” Mattias mutters, feeling like Christopher has just punched him in the stomach. Because what he says is all true. It makes him nervous. Everything makes him wound up, sometimes so tight that he wants to scream. Which is probably why he shouts. Rants and raves and throws pens against the glass in his office, and now? Yeah. He has just hurled a pack of tights against the wardrobe door, and he doesn’t know what to think about that.

“Let’s go see Sara’s parents. Then we’ll come back here, and I’ll let you fuck all that frustration out of your system, with me. You can fuck me until you pass out, I don’t mind. I’ll probably pass out in the process…”

“Shut up. Emi can hear us!”

“Emi is playing with her Lego, she’s fine.”

“It’s not all about sex, you know. It’s…”

“It’s all about sex. Sex is like glue.”

“It gets you high?”

“No, stupid, it glues us together. You and me. We have sex, and it makes us stick. Like we realise that we belong, when we are all joined up and sticky and sweaty and sore…”

Now Christopher has his mouth on Mattias’s lips, andhello!Here is Mr Cock, all hard, grinding against Mattias’s leg, and he instantly freezes up, like that is what is expected of him. He just stands there, stiff like a board, trying to remember how to breathe. Because he doesn’t want to feel like this. Doesn’t want to go back to this kind of life, where there are expectations and he doesn’t want any of this…

“Breathe.” Christopher whispers. And Mattias blows out air. Breathes in, until he pushes away from Christopher, and holds his hands out in defence, mouthingStop!Because, a hard-on is the last thing Mattias needs right now, and he knows Christopher far too well, that the next thing he will do is have his hands everywhere and his mouth in places where it doesn’t belong and Mattias will lose all sense of reality and he’s looking after his child, for fuck’s sake!

“Stop. I love you, and I want to get your dick in my mouth and do all kinds of weird things to you, but not now. No, Chris… topher. No.”

“You have to start calling me Chris. It’s getting silly.”

“You making me hard every five minutes is silly.”

“You like it.” Christopher smiles.

“I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want all this to become what Sara and I had. I don’t want to be scared, and I don’t want to constantly second guess myself and wonder ifthisis the time I won’t like it. Perhaps one day you will touch me and I won’t want you to. How will that work? What if this is just a blip? What if…?”

“Then, we will deal with it. Whatever you need, you will have, and I will still love you. Remember that. This is it for me. You are it for me. You and me. For the rest of our lives. Do you really think that I would give up on us that easily? No, baby.”

He pulls him in again, like he always does. Tugs at Mattias’s arms until they are locked in that perfect embrace, where Mattias fits against Christopher like a mould. A perfect fit.

“Breathe.” Christopher whispers again. “Just breathe.”

And he does.

* * *

He breathes as they walk through the familiar door to Sara’s parents’ modest suburban home. Breathes like he’s taking his last breath, when Sara’s mother gives him a hug.

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