6
Eventually, Sebastian leaves. He has to have dinner with his family and has an early class the next morning. They sat on the couch watching a movie, his head in Sebastian’s lap, Sebastian petting him absently the whole time, and it was bliss to be with someone. To not be alone.
Sebastian put his number into Peter’s phone and said he didn’t have classes after Thursday afternoon, so if he wanted to spend the weekend together, they could. “Well, except for Saturday night. I have to go to a birthday party. You could come with me. Be my date.”
“Uh, no,” he said.
“Because you don’t want people to know you’re cradle robbing?”
Peter glared.
Which made Sebastian kiss him and play with his nipples until Peter whimpered in protest and Sebastian came all over them. Sebastian jerked him off, and Peter came on his stomach, and Sebastian rubbed the whole mess into Peter and was very pleased with himself. It was hot. Peter definitely felt like a filthy slut then.
Sebastian refused to take a shower with him. “There’s no way I can be in there with you all naked and wet and not have you again. And you are not ready for that. I’m a sadist not a torturer.”
“Is there a difference?”
“You better hope so. Seriously, though. If this fucks you up at all, give me a call. I’m going to check in with you tonight and tomorrow, too. We played hard. Very hard.” He frowned. “It doesn’t always have to be this difficult. If that’s a concern.”
It was the first hint that Sebastian wasn't quite as confident as he’d let on. They played hard enough that Peter broke down.
Sebastian’s concern made Peter smile and feel warm inside. “I’m good,” he said, wanting to reassure him. “It was hard, but it wasn’t that hard. It was hard enough that I know you wanted me.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to break down every time.”
Peter waved it away. “If it’s a problem, I’ll let you know. Also, I may be asleep if you text me tonight. I’m pretty sure I’m going to sleep really well.”
“Then why don’t you text me before you go to sleep? Can you do that?” he asked, one hand on Peter’s face, his thumb brushing over his cheek again and again.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
He leaned in to give Peter a kiss goodbye.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that, right? Anything you want. It’s yours.”
Peter blushed and watched Sebastian go jauntily down the sidewalk.
Just as Peter expected, he falls asleep early. He sends a text to Sebastian saying he is going to bed. Peter gets up at five like he usually does and goes for a run. He’s oddly conflicted about how healed he is. There are some bruises and a hickey on his neck, and his hole might look a little red, but frankly he looks at thatarea so infrequently he isn’t even sure. He is most definitely tight again. He clenches inside and gets a twinge or two, but that’s it.
He gets a text from Sebastian at seven wanting to know how he is.Basically healed, he texts and Sebastian sends back a:-(.
The problem is that it’s only nine in the morning and he doesn’t have anywhere to be.
He has a few local friends who have been calling and texting now that he’s without a job and politically homeless, so he decides to meet up with one of them for lunch.
Peter’s friend Mark has been dying to take him to a local Indian place for ages, but Peter doesn’t usually want to go anywhere where he has to take the time to sit down. He's had so many goddamn meals at restaurants that he hates eating out.
He is quickly reminded that it’s actually nice to go out with friends for a meal. It isn’t nice to go with lobbyists or narcissists.
The food is great, and they swap stories about the past and their buddies, and he thinks everything is going okay, but then he catches Mark looking at his neck.
“I gotta tell you, Pete, I was worried for you. We all were. But you seem happy. I thought it was quitting the job. But now I’m thinking the reason for your good mood has something to do with that hickey on your neck? Who is she?” Mark asks.
“Uh, well, first of all, it’s not a she.”
“Oh,” Mark says, seemingly unfazed. “Good for you, man.” And apparently that’s the end of that.
“So, is it serious?”
