“I’m really glad you invited me tonight,” I murmur in his ear. “I don’t ever want to miss another event with you.” He glances up at me, love and affection written all over his face, before he kisses me gently.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he laughs. “Truly, though, thank you for coming. And for giving this another chance. I know you’re sick of hearing it, but…” I place my index finger on his lips to stop him from apologizing again.
“Harlan, you don’t have to keep apologizing. I know you’re sorry. We don’t have to live with that weight anymore, baby,” I remind him. He kisses my finger softly before giving me a rueful smile.
“I know. It’s just that some days this doesn’t feel real, you know? On good days, I would hang on to hope that we’d find our way back to each other. But on the really dark days, the memories of us hurt so badly, because I couldn’t imagine finding someone who loved me the way you did. For me to love someone else the way that I love you. It felt like a physical loss without you, which I know sounds ridiculous.” Harlan inhales deeply before continuing. “You loved me so perfectly, and I want to be worthy of that—of you—now that I have you back.”
“Harlan, you know that I am still deeply, completely, and perfectly in love with you, right? Surely you know that,” I implore. He can’t possibly believe he has to earn my love back. “Let me be very clear. I love you. I have never stopped loving you.” Tears are falling down his cheeks as he takes in my words. I gently wipe at them with the pad of my thumb, and he leans into my touch.
“I love you, too. I have always loved you. You were made for me to love, long before I knew you existed.” With that, he kissesme again. We continue to sway to the music long after the song ends.
We take our leave before the gala is over, desperate to be alone with each other. I wonder if that fierce desire will ever fade. The one that demands that I keep him close, to have my hands on him in some way, at all times. It feels too intense, too overwhelming, like I can’t possibly breathe if he’s not within arm’s reach of me. In the car, I pull him in my lap and spend the ride kissing him as snow begins to fall in thick flakes.
“I feel like we’re in a snow globe,” he muses, watching the world go by. The streetlights reflect off the snow, and it does indeed look like a snow globe. Our own perfect place in the world. “It’s beautiful.” I stop staring outside, instead taking in the wonder on his face.
“You’re beautiful, Harlan,” I tell him. He doesn’t take his eyes off the weather outside, but he shifts, snuggling in closer to my chest. The driver pulls up in front of the brownstone, and it feels like we’re the only ones in the universe. It’s easy to pretend when there are no other cars on the road.
Exiting the car, I know there’s one more thing I need to do before I bring him inside. Under the streetlights, as the snow picks up, I pull him into my arms for another kiss. “I don’t want you to go back to your apartment,” I mumble against his lips. He smiles but doesn’t move away from me.
“That’s good, because you’ve already invited me to spend the night,” he giggles. “I was promised that you would strip me out of this outfit, and that you’d enjoy me all night.” He nips playfully at my lips before slipping his tongue into my mouth. The faint taste of wine, mixed with the taste of Harlan has me instantly hard. Before it goes any further, I pull away, causing him to protest.
I laugh before reassuring him. “Shh, I intend to follow through with that promise, sweetness. I meant I don’t want yougoing back there, period. I want you to move back home. I want to wake up next to you when I’m home, and when I’m away, I want to know you’re safe in our bed until I get back. This is your home. It’s where you belong.”
“Darío,youare my home. There are a lot of things I may be unsure about, but you are not one of them. My heart is whole when I’m with you. I’d love to come home.” My heart knew he’d say yes, but the relief of hearing his words is healing in a way that I can't explain. There is a sense of rightness when we exist in the same space, and we’ve both lived for far too long without it. We can finally let go of the past and move toward the future that was always meant to be ours. With snow falling around us, painting everything in white, I take him by the hand and lead him into our home.
The crowd in the Sea Scorpions’stadium is absolutely unhinged right now. That tracks, since we’re in Game 7 of the World Series against the San Francisco Grizzlies. Penny and I are seated with Dare’s family in the first row, right next to the Scorpions’ dugout. I mean ‘seated’ loosely, since it’s a tied game going into the ninth inning, and we’re all on our feet screaming our arses off. I’m not sure I’ll have a voice left after this series. The boys have battled through every single game, facing injuries, extra innings, and traveling from coast to coast.
The chill of the late October air does little to cool my overheated body from the excitement of the game. I watch Dare run out to center field, and I can tell that he’s absolutely exhausted. He’s been on fire this season, but especially in this series. He has hit four home runs and scored a total of eight runs through all seven games. Travis’s record is giving Dare a run for his money, so one of them is likely to be MVP at the end of this.
As Travis approaches the plate, for what is likely his final at-bat of the series, he’s met with a chorus of boos from theintense Brooklyn fans. As much as I want the Scorpions to win, I can’t bring myself to join in on booing Dare’s best friend. On the second pitch, he cranks one out to center field, the crowd holding its collective breath, because there’s no way that’s not a home run. When Dare leaps up the fence and catches the ball, the fans go absolutely insane. Mama is on her feet, screaming in Spanish and English, while Penny and Enrique hug and bounce up and down. We still need two more outs, and the Grizzlies have proven time and again that they do well under pressure.
The next batter strikes out, alleviating some of the tension in the stadium. When the third hitter smacks the ball into left field, earning a double, my anxiety skyrockets. It’s marginally less stressful going into the bottom of the ninth tied, so we need to wrap this up. The coaching staff obviously feels the same, as one of them approaches the mound, while the more intoxicated fans scream at him to pull the pitcher from the game. Mark Diaz is one of the best closing pitchers in the league, but clearly, everyone knows how to coach a team from the stands.
With Diaz left on the mound, the ump calls two strikes on the first two pitches for the current batter. Chants and cheers ring all around us, calling Mark the best and praising the pitching staff for leaving him in the game. I’d like to tell them to make up their minds, but getting into a fight will lead to the wrong type of media coverage. When the ump calls strike three, the crowd erupts into even more raucous shouts. The team crowds Diaz on the mound as they run to the dugout to prepare for what is, hopefully, the last at-bat for the Scorpions this season.
One run. That’s all we need to end this thing. Adrenaline feels like a living, breathing thing in the stadium. The ground vibrates with the sheer volume from the crowd as the first batter approaches the plate. When he strikes out, the jeers are deafening.
The game is still tied, with one out, when Dare walks up to the plate. He’s sweaty, and his eye black is smeared down his cheeks, but I’ve never seen him more focused and intense. “Come on, babe!” There’s no way he can hear me, but he looks over at us anyway and winks at me before focusing on the pitcher. I may swoon a little, but that’s my boyfriend, and he could potentially win this whole thing right now.
Dare is behind in the count, with one ball and two strikes, and I’m not even shouting words anymore, just noises, as I pray to whatever sports god that exists. Dare hits a ground ball into left field, earning himself a double that puts him in scoring position. A well-placed single could potentially bring him home.
AJ is up next, and he looks as worn out as Dare. They’re all going to sleep for a week when this is over. All we need is a base hit to win this thing. No one wants to go to extra innings tonight. With the crowd on their feet, he takes a swing at the first pitch and launches it into far right field, allowing Darío to score. There is nothing on this planet like the energy of a stadium when the home team wins the World Series. Mama and Penny are sobbing, and maybe, possibly, I am, too. Enrique is hugging his father, and confetti is flying everywhere as the team celebrates on the field. My heart has never felt more full.
When Darío approaches the barrier to the stands, I launch myself into his arms. “I am so fucking proud of you, babe. You did it!” He cups my face with his filthy hands and pulls me in for a kiss that has my toes curling. I wonder if he’ll be too exhausted to celebrate alone later. In the nine months since I moved back home, the intensity of our sex life has shown no signs of slowing. Not that I’m complaining. Well, except for right now, because the way he’s kissing me is making me really fucking hard.
“I can’t wait to celebrate by burying myself in that perfect ass tonight,” he promises, for my ears only. I shudder at his words, but pull away so his family can congratulate him, too. We haveall the time in the world when this is over to enjoy each other, and I intend to do just that.
By the time Darío and I get home, it’s well after three in the morning, since the celebrations went on for hours after media interviews and photos. The late hour doesn’t seem to matter to Darío, as he tosses me on the bed. “Keep the jersey on, Harlan,” he demands.
“Isn’t it a bit narcissistic to fuck me while I'm wearing your jersey, Molina?” He doesn’t bother to answer me as he rips my jeans down my legs and takes my already hard cock to the back of his throat on a needy groan. “Oh fuck,” I cry. He sucks at me urgently while he rubs up and down the inside of my thighs.
When he finally comes up for air, he has a feral grin on his face as he says, “I want you to sit on my face. I’m going to eat that ass until you’re coming all over my chest.”Hell yes.He makes quick work of removing his clothes before falling back to the pillows and impatiently grabbing me by the waist to manhandle me until I’m straddling his face. “Hold yourself open for me,” he growls.
I do as I’m instructed, giving him an unobstructed view of my hole. With his hands on my hips, he pulls me down and starts lapping at the tight ring of muscle like he’s been starved for it. “Oh fuck, Dare. So good.” The way he’s sucking at my rim and nibbling at my cheeks could have me coming hands-free, but I take my leaking cock in hand to stroke, anyway. Shifting just a little forward, I’m able to reach his erection, so I spit in my hand to begin stroking him.
With one hand still on my hip, Dare uses the other to start rubbing at my softening hole while he thrusts into my hand. The moment his finger breaches me, I’m grinding my arse into his face, which earns me a satisfied groan. The vibration only adds to the overwhelming sensation as I get closer and closer to the edge. “You need to come, Harlan, because I need to be inside you.” He returns to licking and sucking while working a second and third finger into me. The moment he rubs my prostate, I’m exploding on his chest. My vision whites out as the orgasm takes over.
Dare doesn’t give me a chance to recover before he’s pushing me off of him, and I whimper at the loss of his fingers. “I feel so empty, Dare,” I whine. “Need you inside, please.” He flips me on my back and spits on my hole before sinking into me. The burn quickly fades to pleasure as he pounds into me. “Just like that, god. You feel so good inside me.” My cock is getting hard again as the head of his nails my prostate relentlessly.
