I skip my fingers down his spine as we kiss languidly. No hurry, no goal but to be together in the promising darkness of Charlie’s bedroom. When I slip a finger inside him, finding him already lubed and wet, he groans against my mouth. It’s kind of a trip to have a four-time Super Bowl winner trembling over me, waiting eagerly to take my cock. If I had any semblance of an ego, it’d sure be puffed up right now. But I’ve never had much of an ego, and all I want is Charlie, for as long as he’ll let me have him.
Once I’ve got two fingers inside him, working them in circles, then gently rubbing over his prostate, Charlie knocks his forehead against mine with a tired exhale.
“I want you so badly,” he admits, like the words cost him something.
“You can have me.”
Charlie pulls far enough away to blink wide eyes down at me. His eyes skip between mine, only closing when I gently pull my fingers out. Charlie reaches under his bed, leans back, then sits back and pours lube over my cock from the lube he magically procured. My little sex magician. Although not so little, but still very sexy. I bite my lip hard as he glides his hand up and down my cock because all I can do is imagine what it’ll feel like once I’m finally inside him. His abs contract tightly as he leans up to notch my cock against his entrance. Yeah, technically I’m fucking him, but it doesn’t feel so much like it when I sink inside him at his leisurely pace.
Every single emotion that washes across Charlie’s face is honest and true: fear, joy, need, and the final word that does me in, love. Love shines in his intense gaze, through the gentle curve of his mouth, through the bite of his nails against my pecs when he slowly glides down my cock. I want to live inside him, freeze this moment in a snow globe for all time. Instead, I tamper it all by grabbing his neck and pulling him down for a wet, messy kiss. The kind of kiss that says more than any word ever could.
Charlie groans into my mouth as he rolls his hips, somehow taking me even deeper. A shiver rolls through me at the sheer pleasure of the feeling. Our lips stop gliding, and we stay pressed against each other as we share breath in a moment that feels more precarious than I can ever explain.
Suddenly overcome, I grab his hips and still him. Charlie pulls far enough away to look into my eyes, and I come undone.
“Just let me be inside you for a minute,” I whisper, voice so low I almost don’t even hear the words.
Charlie lifts his hand to cup my face, looking far too beautiful for words. I reach up and brush the hair out of his eyes, then cup my hand around his ear to hold him close so he can’t pull away. I can feel my heartbeat in my cock, feel the urge to fuck up into him and make him my own. The feeling is so foreign, so new, that I don’t know how to rectify it with all the other feelings inside me. For so long I’ve spent my life thinking something was irrecoverably broken inside me, making me undeserving of love, despite all the love that surrounds me. But it took Charlie, a gentle man who accepted me into his house, soaking wet from a sudden rain, and who made his entire house gluten-free just so I’d share a single meal with him. Charlie has so much love to give, and I want to grab it, take it for myself, and never let go.
“Charles,” I say softly, voice tight and thick with all these new feelings.
“Tucker,” Charlie whispers before kissing me softly and starting to move again. I dance my hands up his back, down to his hips, back up to his shoulders, then back down to coast my hands over his thick thighs as they lift so he can take me harder. The sounds in the room are vulgar—slapping of skin, our moans, our pants—but it’s a symphony of its own. This is lovemaking.
“Charlie,” I say again, lost to it all.
Charlie groans deep in the pit of his belly and leans down to take my mouth in another wet, scorching kiss. His tongue slides against mine just as his hand wraps around his cock, his knuckles bumping against my stomach with each tightly controlled stroke.
“Tuck,” Charlie begs, lips trembling against mine.
My orgasm hits me with a force like never before. I lift my hips from the bed and still inside him, holding him down to give him every ounce of me. The feeling of my cum leaking out of him and onto my thighs is obscene, but so perfectly real. Charlie groans and leans back, a perfect picture of desire and need, and I almost come again when the ropes of his release splatter across my stomach. The tension in his body releases as he pants over top of me, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead. He’s so goddamn beautiful.
There’s no way I can keep him.
Charlie falls against me, smearing his cum over my stomach, but I don’t really give a shit. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in the sweaty crook of his neck. He smells like him, and us, and the smell of someone has never driven me so crazy before, never made me so bare with need.
Charlie’s fingers dance across my chest as he falls to the side, my cock slipping out of him. I reach back to press my fingers into him, needing to be as close to him for as long as I can be. Charlie groans and pushes against me, his soft cock pressing against mine.
“I’ve never… That was…” I don’t know how to put it into words. But Charlie seems to understand. His gaze sparkles as he kisses me with open eyes, seeing me like no one has ever seen me before.
“I know.” Charlie runs his fingers through my short hair with a bittersweet smile. “It’s never been like that for me before. I… Tucker… you’re special to me.”
I swallow hard, because I agree. “You’re special to me too.”
Charlie hums and buries himself against me. He falls asleep with my fingers still inside him, content and sated, and I fall asleep that way too, caught up in the dream of it all.
Gentle hands shake me awake.The room is dark, but it’s easy to see Charlie. His smile is warm and loving, his hands gentle on my arms as he dances them over me.
“Let’s go watch the sunrise, sweetheart.”
I kiss him softly despite the morning breath, needing to feel his lips against mine for as long as I can. We tug on sweatpants and I steal one of Charlie’s hoodies before we grab Cupcake and amble out toward the beach. The waves are loud this morning, the air especially briny, but the waves crest like a promise once we cross between the dunes. The sky is dark blue with orange starting to play at the horizon. Charlie lays a blanket on the soft, slightly wet sand, and we curl up in each other’s arms as we await the arrival of the sun. Charlie smells like sleep, his cologne, and like mint toothpaste because he had to brush his teeth before we came out for the sunrise.
His fingers dance over the top of my hand, thumb caressing my knuckles as he takes my hand in his own.
“You mean too much to me for us to rush this,” Charlie admits quietly. When I glance toward him, he’s staring hard at the horizon, a worry line on his forehead. “I think you’ve been rushed before, and I can wait a very long time to make sure it’s forever.”
“Charlie,” I say around the sudden lump in my throat.
Charlie turns to me with a blinding grin. His eyes are slightly watery, and I want to hold him to me, but I also want to push him away at the same time.
