Crisp. Bright. Addictive. Vincent raked his teeth over Mal’s skin, and Mal made the prettiest, papery noises of pleasure for him, so thin and delicate Vincent was sure they’d tear, caught in the ferocity of the currents between them. Vincent’s cock twitched, and he thrust his hips just once, pushing his erection against Mal’s body, right over his groin. Pleasure exploded behind his eyes, and the growl rolled from his throat anew.
Halfway across the country, he’d stepped into the wrong room and found everything that he’d been missing. There was no more fear, no more apprehension. This was what he was meant to do, and where he was meant to be—an omen of what was to come.
“Come,” Vincent uttered. His voice was husky in a way he wasn’t used to, its cadence rounded and heavy. His cock protested against his fly, wanting out and wanting into Mal. “Come in your briefs. I want you to soak them. The rest of the evening, I want you to remember how I made you feel.”
There was a sound in the back of Mal’s throat, highly aroused and so fragile it was almost crystalline. A whine, Vincent would have thought, if it wasn’t for the way it sounded so sweet.
“Oh, god,” Mal breathed. His voice was strained in the same, sweet way, like sugar dusted over honey.
Vincent nosed against his neck and grazed his teeth across Mal’s skin. Another sound broke from Mal’s lips, fuller and more confident than it had been before.
He was accepting his pleasure, Vincent realized. He wasowningit.
All at once, Mal lurched forward, and Vincent readjusted his position to pin him back in place. He was glad that he had. A second after Mal’s rebellion, he slumped, boneless, against the wall. His chest heaved, and wetness bloomed on the front of his boxer-briefs.
He’d come.
Vincent eased the vibrator away from Mal’s body and switched it off, then took a modest step back to give Mal some space. The scent of his heat was nothing more than a hint on the air, but Vincent found himself breathing more deeply than he needed to so he could memorize how it sent goosebumps down his arms.
“That…” Mal exhaled slowly and heavily, pushing the air from his lungs. “That was… way too good. I don’t… I don’t hook up with guys. It’s really not like me. I hope you’re not offended, or anything. I, um…”
“Here.” Vincent produced a business card from his pocket. The name on it was old and outdated, but it was what his patients knew him by. What mattered was that the phone number on it was still accurate—and it was. “It’s not a hookup if you get my number out of it, right?”
“You want to give me your number?” Mal asked, sounding mystified.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Vincent smiled. He presented the card and the vibrator to Mal as a package deal. “You’re not the only one that had a fun time.”
Mal accepted his offering, a hint of a blush spread across the bridge of his nose. It was charming.
“I, um, I should probably be… be going,” Mal stammered. He tucked the business card and the vibrator into his suit jacket’s interior pocket, then sidled around Vincent on his way to the door. On the way there, his foot caught on the yellow mop bucket, and he careened forward, arms flailing. Vincent reached out to catch him, but Mal snagged a shelf and righted himself. Balance regained, he brushed off his suit like he’d meant to perform clumsy acrobatics, then nodded at Vincent a little too seriously. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mal moved to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob, but his wrist remained still, and the door remained unopened. Vincent watched him curiously, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head.
“You’re here for Alex and Laurence’s wedding, right?” Mal asked at last.
Vincent nodded. “I am.”
“Then…” Mal swallowed nervously and smiled. The expression, although tense, was genuine. “Then maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.”
Seemingly too flustered to say anything else, Mal opened the door and left the room, leaving Vincent on his own.
“Well, then,” Vincent murmured, grinning. He sank against the wall where Mal had been and took a moment to let his heart calm down. Then, without anything more to say, he laughed.
If this was an omen of the life he was about to lead now that he was starting over in Aurora, the move from Corvallis was worth the heartache and hassle. For the first time in the last several years, Vincent felt like his wings were spread and the winds were in his favor.
He never wanted to lose that feeling.
While he grinned at nothing, too swept up in his reverie to bother with his full bladder or the erection that would, inevitably, complicate the piss he needed to take, Vincent’s phone buzzed. He took it from his pocket to find there was a message waiting for him from the Single Dad Support Group—the small group of formerly digital friends who’d become some of the most important people in his life.
Formerly, Vincent distinguished, because today, for the first time ever, the Single Dads were gathered in the same place at the same time. Every one of them had taken time out of their schedules to attend the wedding of one of their own—Gwynning—who’d just married the love of his life, and who was now late to his own reception.
The message was from TeenDad2, who was best friends with Gwynning’s new groom.
TeenDad2: @LoveHarley @xVerity @KnotMyProblem, where are you guys??? Not tagging Gwynn for obvious reasons, but come on! We need to hustle!
