I woke up sad and couldn’t pin down why. The last time I’d cried—okay, sobbed—was a few weeks ago, when Major had moved his mattress and bed frame into my—our—room. After coming out to the Lost Boys, the timing had felt right for that step, even if it did end up being emotional.
Major, who always seemed to know exactly what I needed, had taken me into the shower at the end of move-in day. He’d washed me gently and then given me a sweet blow job as I’d spent the rest of my tears. The urn had been judgmental, of course, but I’d maintained coming while crying had its merits. Both had offered release.
I suspected the down feeling had to do with Robert, though I couldn’t put a finger on why. Sure, it was weird that I woke up next to one of his former students, but as I nuzzled against Major for comfort, I couldn’t think of anything sweeter.
While I’d known that his easygoing, peaceful manner would make for a pleasant living arrangement, I’d not anticipated how much joy I’d feel watching him integrate his life with mine. Whether it was the furniture, the paint, or the way he treated myson and grandson, Major brought a lightness to this family that we’d been missing for far too long.
This morning’s melancholy, then, was a reminder that—as my therapist had told me—sometimes I’d get walloped for no reason at all, and I’d just have to process it. I sighed, annoyed that grief could have its way with me whenever it wanted, but I wasn’t going to let it take over my life.
Since I couldn’t get back to sleep, I decided that I might as well work in the garden. I pushed up Major’s shirt and nosed at his nipple, which was still a little puffy from last night’s activities. Major muttered, shifting under me like my own personal mountain. Thankfully, my restlessness hadn’t fully woken him, and his breathing quickly returned to its usual soothing rhythm.
I rolled over and checked my phone, then nearly dropped it as reality punched me in the gut. It was later than I’d realized, but that wasn’t the most pressing issue. I’d somehow made myself so busy I’d forgotten that today was the second anniversary of Robert’s passing.
For the first anniversary, Holden and I had kept our observance small because we were still too gutted to do anything other than hold on to each other and weep. Maybe we could do something a little more positive today.
I pulled up my messaging app.
Me:Today is a tough day. Do y’all want to come over for brunch to celebrate Pops’s life?
Holden:I was thinking we could do something a little more… official.
I narrowed my eyes at the screen.
Me:Why do I have a feeling that you’ve already planned something?
Holden:Hey, don’t look at me. Blame the big guy.
I looked down at the big guy in question, my chest feeling warm as his sleepy cock and balls peeked out of the leg of his loose boxers.
Holden:But you should be ready (and dressed, ahem) by noon. Just sayin’.
Considering it was half past ten, I was grateful for the heads-up.
Me:Okay. But we’re going to have a family discussion about springing things on the widower at the last minute.
Holden:I miss him too, Dad.
I set my phone on the side table and sighed, then squawked as Major pulled me from my seated position to lie back against the wall of pillows. He laid his head on my chest, adorably warm in his stretched-out T-shirt and boxers. Chuckling, I buried my fingers in the thick, soft hair at the back of his head.
“That’s better,” he murmured, kissing my chest. He tugged at my T-shirt, removing it before scraping his plump lips across a sensitive nipple. In light of my nipple obsession, he’d become quite the student and loved teasing me in the same ways I teased him.
Was it wrong to feel horny today? I knew what Robert would say.They don’t call it a celebration of life for nothing, my dear. Though… is it appropriate to play grab-ass on a day that should be all about me?
“You do know that Robert would be highly offended that you’re pawing me like this on the anniversary of his death.”
“It’s true,” Major said, interspersing deep, almost painful suction with soft, velvety licks.. “He’d want all the attention on him. Still, this is kind of his fault, so I don’t feel bad about it.”
“Fair enough,” I replied.
My breath hitched as Major pulled down my sleep pants and nudged my legs apart, muttering “Damn right, fair enough,” and “We can get each other off whenever we damn well please.”
To be clear, Major wasn’t ignoring the importance of the day. We’d discovered that fooling around helped me get through the sad parts, and now every time I got sad, I also got a little horny for my man.
Once he was finished removing my clothes and complaining about his old shop teacher, Major adjusted himself, his eyes roving my body before he shifted into my space. Pressing his warm, cozy weight on me, he latched on to my other nipple, drawing it out from flat disc to peaking, pleasured nub. My cock swelled between us, and I couldn’t help the groan that left my lips.
He rocked up and back, trapping my leaking cock under his belly, trailing kisses up my chest and across my collarbones until he was sucking on my neck. It was gentle, not likely to leave a mark, but eye-rollingly good all the same.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I gasped, gripping the back of his head and pressing him against me.
