Page 7 of Once Upon An Ever After
All he knew was that one second he was lost in the feeling of being surrounded by so much certainty, of Beau and all his adorable personality quirks, and in the next the door of the bathroom was swinging open and Beau stood in front of him, frozen to the spot as he registered Dawson’s presence… and Dawson stopped breathing because Beau was totally and completely naked.
He knew his eyes must be as big as saucers as he took in a hundred things at once.
Beau’s beautiful hair was dry and he’d pushed it back off his face making his clean-shaven jaw look razor sharp. In contrast his lips were full and soft looking. The lips, the hair, the eyes… they were quite possibly the only soft thing about Beau, Dawson realized.
He’d always known that Beau was thin but seeing him without the perfectly selected clothes it was even more obvious how beautifully built he was. He wasn’t lanky, not with his broad chest and thin hips, but he also wasn’t sculpted with bulging muscles. The only thing about him that bulged was the thick cock between his legs which Dawson knew he should look away from but couldn’t.
A thin path of bronze hair trailed from Beau’s belly button down to a patch of curls that showed off his cock as if it was a statue in a garden. It was a ridiculous thought, Dawson realized, but everything he was thinking right now seemed ridiculous. Like how he couldn’t help but wonder what Beau’s cock would feel like in his hand, would taste like if he licked the tip, would…
“Jesus, fuck. Dawson!” Beau’s voice ripped out of him in a sound that was a mix of shock, anger and hurt. “Turn around.”
“I…” Dawson blinked, forcing his gaze up from the cock that had captivated him to the face of the man that had done the same from the moment they met.
“Dammit, Daws.” Beau’s beautiful dark eyes were pleading and he moved his hands to cover himself, “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I…” Dawson swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Can’t.”
“You damn well can and you should. Right now. Before I do something you’ll regret.”
The anger had won out in Beau’s voice this time and Dawson understood it in a way that he hadn’t even just five minutes ago. All this time, he’d been hurting Beau. He’d been causing his best friend pain and he hadn’t even realized it, hadn’t known it because he hadn’t wanted to look too closely at their connection. But it was clear on Beau’s handsome face now just how much he wanted from Dawson and just how sad and hurt he was because Dawson couldn’t give it to him. The anger was a defense mechanism to cover just how much Dawson’s expected rejection was going to hurt and in that moment he decided that he couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt this man that he loved so much for a single second more, not if it meant losing him.
“Something like this, you mean?” Dawson crossed the space between them and grabbed Beau by the cheeks, smashing their lips together in a hard, rough kiss.
A kiss. His brain spun off and crashed into all the walls he’d built up between his thoughts and his feelings. He was kissing his best friend. He was kissing another man and he wasn’t freaking out. It felt totally and completely right because it was Beau.
HisBeau.
Only Beau had ever made him feel like this. Only Beau could make him want this so much. It had only ever been Beau for him. The choice between men or women had never been a choice at all. Not for him. Because for him there was only Beau.
Beau was stiff against him at first, as if he was holding himself back. It broke Dawson’s heart all over again. He hated himself for hurting this man and redoubled his effort, putting everything he had into this kiss, their first kiss. Hesitantly at first, Beau softened against him. His lips relaxed and then began to move against Dawson’s in response.
He gave in to the urge he’d been ignoring for far too long. He raised his hands and slid them into Beau’s luscious hair. He tangled his fingers in the strands and pulled slightly, bringing Beau even closer. Beau made a sound, deep in his throat, and his lips parted on a gasp that sent power and desire surging through Dawson’s body. He slid his tongue forward, lapping at Beau’s bottom lip and then sliding inside his mouth to taste him in a way he’d never let himself imagine he could.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he should stop. He had come here to talk to Beau. He had needed to explain things to him. Set the record straight, or not straight, as it were. But with the minty taste of Beau on his tongue and the feel of his curls in his hands, with his body nakedly pressing against Dawson’s, the thick jut of his hardening cock against his hip, he couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to say or why they should stop to talk about it.
Why should he stop to tell Beau how taking this step in their relationship felt when he could show him instead? It felt perfect. Right in a way that Dawson could never have put into words. So he didn’t bother with them, instead he only broke the kiss long enough to breathe roughly against Beau’s sharp jawline.
“Can I touch you?”
Beau whined as Dawson released his grip on his hair and slid his free hand down to Beau’s hip, tracing the line of muscle there but going no further, yet, “Dawson…”
“Please?”
Beau nodded and Dawson smiled softly before kissing him again. This was Beau. His Beau. And his Beau always gave him exactly what he needed. Now, it was his turn to do the same. To give Beau whatever he needed in return, whatever he wanted, and some part of him he hadn’t known existed seemed to feed off that need sending power surging from somewhere deep inside him when Beau went soft against him, all needy and pliant.
Thismust be the thing his brothers spoke about, that spark they’d never felt with anyone until they met their perfect match.
Dawson had felt it from the first time he met Beau but he’d had no experience with it. He’d had no idea what it meant or what to do with the feeling. But he knew what to do now, with this man who knew him better than anyone, that he knew better than anyone.
He had to make up for lost time and he had to start right now.
Chapter Four
Beau’s heart was thumping so hard that he could barely hear anything besides his own labored breathing and the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He felt like he might have a heart attack, might faint from the sheer pleasure that coursed through him. If he hadn’t been absolutely sure that he’d just taken a shower because he could feel the steam from the bathroom just behind him he might have thought this was just another of his dreams that he would wake up from feeling cold and alone.
But it wasn’t a dream, he was certain of it when Dawson asked if he could touch him. Because that was pure Dawson, the real Dawson. Not the dirty fantasy version that tormented Beau’s dreams, not the one he’d imagined taking control of him body and soul, using him until he was aching and raw. That Dawson had always been a mere dream because the real Dawson was far too polite to shove him roughly down over his desk and take what he wanted. The real Dawson didn’t demand things, he asked for what he wanted, like he’d just asked if he could touch Beau.
As if he might ever say no? It was an impossibility. He’d never been able to tell Dawson no and he certainly wasn’t going to find that superpower when the man was finally, finally, in his arms and asking if he could touch him.
