Luca released half a laugh until his own throat cut himself off with a moan.
“Yeah,” he gasped, “I know. Let’s actually—wait.” He gripped Emerson’s arms, and Emerson slowed. “Can we flip over, so I’m on top?”
“Yeah.” Emerson withdrew himself completely, against his body’s protest. “Of course.”
Pushing the pillows to the side, they rearranged themselves until Luca straddled Emerson’s hips. Without wasting a second, he sank down until Emerson was fully inside him again. And even though it was a position they had just been in, there was something about it now—Emerson’s back relaxed against the bed, his body no longer questioning where exactly it should be, Luca’s own magnificent body towering above him, weighing him down?—
Emerson released a long groan. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Luca panted. “Same.”
And then they were moving, Luca mostly in charge butEmerson’s body following along instinctually, hips rising up to meet him, Luca occasionally leaning down for sloppy kisses that made Emerson’s head feel like it was going to burst.
“Luca,” Emerson said. “Fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful.” The sun was starting to set; Emerson could tell from the way the light from the window painted Luca’s body orangey-gold.
“Emerson,” Luca panted. “You’re—god.” The last syllable came out on a garbled groan. Luca had to be close. He had to be. Emerson was about to break apart. He was about to double check with Luca about it but then Luca said, “You are so fucking hot.”
And Emerson started to laugh. This again. The only hot man in the room was the one on top of him. But then the laugh got caught up with his orgasm, garbling into a generally unattractive noise in the middle of his throat.
Luca sped up on top of him, his hand flying across his dick—I could do that, I should’ve been doing that, Emerson barely had the consciousness to think, except he couldn’t control any of his limbs—and then he was coming too, the release warm against Emerson’s stomach and chest.
“Jesus Christ,” Luca huffed, his head and his spine bent forward after he was done, his left hand propping himself up at Emerson’s side.
“Can you kiss me?” Emerson blurted, the seconds after the words hung in the air the first moment he’d felt truly embarrassed since Luca had turned on that toy.
But Luca, still breathing heavily, only said, “Fuck yeah I can,” and lifted his head to do just that. The kiss was soft, and perfect, all lips, somehow exactly what Emerson needed. “Thank you,” Luca said as he pulled away.
Emerson huffed. “Thankyou. That was okay, then?”
Luca smiled, and Emerson had regained enough mentalclarity to truly see it. The sleepy, sexy sparkle in his dark eyes, the curve of his mouth, just inches from Emerson’s.
“Emerson. Fuck you. Obviously that was okay.”
Emerson blushed. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Fuck,” Luca mumbled before leaning down to kiss him again. “Okay,” he pulled away to say. “Gotta clean up.” He was in the middle of climbing off Emerson’s body when he asked, “Want me to take care of this?” with a hand around Emerson’s still-sheathed dick. Emerson blinked at him in surprise before nodding. With care, Luca removed the condom and padded away, his ass outstanding in the light as he walked into the hall toward the bathroom.
Emerson took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, a hand to his chest, monitoring his pounding heart.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when he stirred awake, the reality that Luca was curled up at his side, his head resting on Emerson’s right pec permeating his consciousness. His stomach and his dick were wiped clean; Luca’s fingers brushed light circles over his waist. He must have drifted off somehow while Luca had taken care of everything. The light from the window had faded, the room dimmer but not yet dark. It must not have been too long that he’d been out. He was ridiculously grateful Luca was still here, either way. A second later, Emerson realized his own hand rested on Luca’s head, his fingers idly running over the soft dark hair.
It felt good. Luca’s hair, Luca’s cheek on his body. Like what Luca and Emerson had just done had felt good.
Like how almost everything had felt good, ever since the skies opened up on Sunday.
As his faculties returned to him, he tried to picture what life would be like right now if it hadn’t rained that day. If Luca hadn’t followed him, if Luca hadn’t slipped. If Emerson hadn’t reached out and fallen with him.
If Luca had accepted his apology on the couch.
Would they have crashed together eventually? Or would Emerson be lying alone in his room, catching up on his small farm forums on his phone?
No. He’d probably be back out there, working on the wildflower field, working on the old barn. There was still so much work to do, and the calendar ticked each day toward September, and?—
Luca had been right about one thing, at least. Even with all the to-do lists that still existed outside these walls?—
Right now, Emerson only felt relaxed.
Which was probably why he felt totally fine answering Luca’s demand when Luca waved a hand toward the wall and said, “Tell me about these.”
