“You were still in a cast,” is the explanation Dylan offers as Rachel rushes over to us, leaping into my arms.
“Happy 30th, old man!” Her voice is full of excitement, as she squeezes the life out of me.
Scanning the yard, I see all of the people who are important to me and Dylan huddled around us. Everything is draped in “Over the Hill” decorations. “You did this?” I look between Dylan and Rachel. They don’t need to say a thing; the proud and accomplished look on their faces says it all.
After saying hello to everybody – and I mean everybody, co-workers from the gym, old Mrs. Keating, Maddy and Reid, Melanie and Bryan, Lucy and Evan, Adrian and Troy, along with some of my old fighting buddies, even John and Elise, Dylan’s old college friends – Dylan pulls me to the side and introduces me to two people I’m more than surprised to be meeting.
“I’d like you to meet my parents, Ben and Jillian.” Though nervousness begins to consume me, Dylan’s mom instantly makes it go away, engulfing me in a tight embrace.
“It issonice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.” Jillian holds me at arm’s length. Her eyes bright – the same color as her son’s - are shining with tears of happiness.
Ben extends his hand, shaking mine firmly, adding a solid pat to the back. “It’s a pleasure, son.”
There’s so much about them that reminds me about my own parents – their kind openness, their hearty laughter, their genuine love and concern for their son. But, perhaps the most astounding thing about them is their willingness to accept me in their lives just as Dylan has in his.
Dylan and his father walk to the cooler to grab some drinks and his mom pulls me to the side. “I just had to say thank you.” She sits in a chair and prompts me to sit next to her.
“For?” I ask, nervously fidgeting with the grey, plastic tablecloth.
“For making him happy.” Her simple answer speaks volumes. “He deserves to be happy, even though he thought he didn’t for so long. It took him far too long, and he wasted too much time thinking he wasn’t worthy. You’ve shown him all the things he couldn’t see on his own.” Her kind smile is impossible to dismiss, her powerful words, impossible to ignore.
Her eyes travel behind me just as Dylan’s hand claps down on my shoulder. “You two okay?”
Covering his hand with mine and looking up at him, I simply say, “Perfect.”
With lots of good food and company, the party passes by in a blur. Toward the end of the night, Lucy comes out with a huge sheet cake in her hands, and everyone starts in on a chorus of “Happy Birthday” as Dylan stands next to me.
The feeling of warmth that washes over me as I look around the yard is one that I’ve never experienced before. These people, some of who have only recently become important to me, have openly welcomed me into their lives. While I never wanted for a family of my own, I’ve missed it terribly in the last two years. They’ll never be replaced, but with people like this, their absence is a lot less painful.
After I blow out the candles, and everyone’s clapping dies down, Dylan clears his throat, holding his beer up for what I assume is a short speech thanking everyone for coming.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming.” Totally predictable. I peer over at him, offering him a wry look, which he ignores. “Since I met Conner, my life has been,” he rubs his chin, pretending to be lost in thought, “different,” he settles on. He ignores my playful nudge to the side, barely noticing it at all. “Different in the best of ways.” His blue eyes shimmer, a deep sapphire like the clearest of oceans. “I never knew how empty my life was until Conner revived it. We’re all here today to celebrate this man,” he laces our fingers together at our side, “so I just wanted to take a minute to tell you all not only how much I love him, but how thankful I am every single day for having him in my life.”
“Hear, hear!” Reid calls out as Rachel whistles, sending the rest of the crowd into an uproar of cheers.
I lean in, press a quick kiss to his cheek and whisper, “Thank you, for today and for every day,” in his ear, noticing the slight shiver that my warm breath causes.
The instant we’re through the door of our apartment, Dylan locks me in his grip, bruising my lips in a frantic and heated kiss. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he murmurs against my mouth.
He pushes me back, shoving me up against the door, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs. With nimble fingers, he unbuttons my shorts and shoves them down to the floor. When he wraps his hand around my instantly hard cock, I attack his mouth with bruising force. He strokes me from root to tip, back and forth, as his tongue slides in and out of my mouth. Capturing his face in my hands, I hold him still and suck his tongue into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks.
As he sinks to his knees, he reaches one hand up my shirt, pinching my nipple. His hot mouth wraps around my cock, forcing me to bow off the door. With his hands on either side of my hips, pressing against the door, it clatters on its hinges behind me as Dylan fucks me with his mouth.
My fingers dive into his hair, holding him in place as I shove every inch into his throat. “Ahhhh… Dylan…” His tongue swirls around the broad head of my cock, sending waves of pleasure racing over my entire body, drawing my balls tight up against my body. “Fuck,” I growl as he rakes his short nails over them, causing them to tingle even more.
With the sexiest look I’ve ever seen, he reaches up and puts his finger in my mouth, wanting me to suck on it. I match his rhythm, soaking his digit as requested. He drops my dick from his mouth and replaces it with his finger, adding to the moisture gathered there before he pulls me away from the door. His finger sinks into me easily, probing, stretching, fucking me.
The combination of his mouth wrapped tightly around my cock and his finger plunging in and out of my ass, my orgasm rips through me without warning. On a loud roar and final thrust into his mouth, I come, wildly, without any concern for the loud slamming noises my body makes against the door.
Dazed and thoroughly sated, I look down at Dylan licking me clean. “You’re fucking insane at that.” He stands and I rest my forehead against his, my labored breathing the only thing between us.
“Well, then you’re gonna love this.” He lifts a mischievous eyebrow at me, pulling me down the hall to our bedroom. We tumble to the bed – a heap of legs and arms. Our clothes are gone in an instant and Dylan is sprawled out on top of me, our chests pressed together without an inch of space between them. Hooking my leg into the crook of his elbow spreads me wide open. Trailing hot kisses across my neck and chest, the mood shifts. It becomes less frenzied, much slower. There’s an emotional drive motivating every touch, kiss, and lick. I hear a drawer opening, the cap of a bottle unsnap. Kneeling between my legs, Dylan coats himself in lube.
Watching him stroke himself, readying himself to fuck me senseless has a dizzying effect on every part of my strung-tight body.
Based solely on the look on his face, I’m expecting a hard punishing assault, but when he gently spreads me, and eases himself into me, a searing pleasure spreads throughout my body. He presses his body against mine and we’re completely connected. His arms stretch over mine, tangling our fingers together. My legs wrap around his waist, holding him fast to my body. His arms hook under my shoulders, holding me in a tight embrace as he drives into me over and over again. The power in his smooth, gliding motion sends me over the edge of my control. His name falls from my lips over and over against as he buries himself deep inside, getting lost on every single push.
His lips attack my neck, nibbling, biting, licking, kissing. “Want you so bad…” he grunts.
