Chapter Twelve

JUST before six, an hour earlier than their planned time, a knock came at the door to Marcus’s second-floor apartment. In the midst of chewing on a handpicked mint leaf from his windowsill herb garden, he looked up and froze, his stomach churning like a KitchenAid. Absorbed in his food creation mode—he had been assembling slices of marinated apple on top of pastry in a flan dish—he hadn’t even showered or spruced himself up. For a moment he wondered if his wooden spoon wall clock—a Christmas present from Katie and Charlie—had run out of battery, but then he noticed the second hand still merrily circling the clockface. Wiping his hands on a nearby tea towel, he decided the caller had to be Ruth, the neighbor from across the hall, probably returning his juicer. She’d said she might pop by at the weekend, and in his book, anyway, Friday was part of the weekend. Besides, Tom couldn’t get in without either keying in the entry code or using the video phone at the main entrance. Marcus padded barefoot over to the door and yanked it open.

Decked out in a navy boiler suit mottled with the speckled detritus of past building jobs, and wearing a tight white T-shirt beneath, showing off his bulging biceps, Tom lounged against the doorjamb dressed like every gay man’s fantasy. Dark fringed, with trademark slim-line sideburns, he also wore a five-o’clock shadow and was a vision to behold. Of its own volition, Marcus’s jaw dropped at the sight, turning him temporarily mute.

“Your downstairs neighbor let me in. Think she thought I was here to fix your plumbing. Or maybe she thought I was there to fix hers,” said Tom, chuckling nervously. Sporting a handsome but unsure grin, he looked down at his own attire. “Shit, yeah, sorry. Came straight from work. Been a crazy busy couple of days. Hope you don’t mind if I change here, maybe jump in the shower first. Got a change of clothes and a pack of London Pride in the holdall. Although if you’d prefer wine, I can always—”

“Slow down, Tom. And come on in.”

Marcus began to head down the hall but turned to find Tom still standing there. “Are you okay?”

Tom had his hand on the door handle, his voice seeming to have deserted him. Marcus noticed the hesitation in his face.

“Oh God, are you having second thoughts?”

“I’m—no—I just…. It’s all suddenly become very real.”

“Tom, it’s me. I’m still your friend. If you just want to have some grub, a couple of beers, and watch the game, I’ll be just as happy. And I can always sleep on the couch.”

Clearly Marcus would not be happy, but he couldn’t stand to watch Tom’s discomfort in his own home. Tom seemed to think the words over. “Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“If it gets you in the door, then yes,” said Marcus. For some reason a sudden rush of his own nerves rose to the surface. If he was going to be totally honest with himself, after hearing nothing from Tom all that day or the day before, he’d wondered if the man would show up at all. “Come on in and shut the door.”

“Thanks,” said Tom, entering, then turning quizzically to Marcus. “Are you okay?”

“No, it’s nothing. You’re fine. I—I just…. You’re a little early. And you caught me in the middle of prepping,” said Marcus, about to head back to the kitchen.

“Hey, hey,” said Tom, catching his arm and pulling him back, a playful grin on his face. “I really want to be here. Just give me a little time to adjust. Can you do that?”

“Take all the time you need,” said Marcus, and he could not help the overwhelming emotion that overtook him, feeling his own features relax while staring at this man he had admired for so many years. Tom sucked in a sharp breath, dropped his bag, and then turned Marcus around so that Marcus’s back pressed up against the hallway wall. Stepping in close, he brought their foreheads together.

“I’ve had an erection the whole week thinking about tonight,” he murmured while grinding their groins together.

Marcus froze for a second before really taking Tom in. Despite the initial anxiousness, tonight there stood before him a confident, masculine sexual beast who, quite frankly, Marcus found both attractive and intimidating.

“I would answer that, but I’m giving you time to adjust.”

After a soft chuckle, Tom dropped his gaze to Marcus’s lips, and he only hesitated a split second before finding his target. Lips sealed together, Tom pushed his tongue past Marcus’s teeth, rushing to meet Marcus’s. Of their own volition, Marcus’s arms wrapped around Tom’s neck, pulling him closer, his head tilting to deepen the kiss. Before long Marcus pushed away, gasping for breath.

“Mmm,” murmured Tom, breathing heavily. “You taste of mint and apple. You know, I never thought I’d enjoy kissing another man. But you’re all I can think of these days.”

“I still can’t believe this is you. Tom Bradford. About to get naked in my apartment,” said Marcus, stroking a hand over Tom’s rough stubble. “Fuck me.”

“That is part of the plan,” said Tom, smiling, but then stopped when he saw Marcus’s expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Marcus, but his face had given him away. “Of course.”

“As you say, we don’t have to actually do the deed, Marcus.”

“I know. But I want you to have me. It’s just… been a while.”

“Then I’ll follow your lead. And you can start by taking me to your bathroom so I can grab a shower.”

“How about we can grab a shower?” said Marcus, pulling Tom with him. “The main bathroom’s off my bedroom, so you can dump your stuff there. And then I’m going to undress you.”

“How about we undress each other?”

Which is exactly what they did, each of them kissing newly exposed flesh on the other’s body, until they stood opposite one another in only underpants. Marcus was the first to reach for the band of Tom’s white briefs and gently pull them down. The huge member that bounced out thick and proud took Marcus’s breath away.

“Fuck, Tom,” said Marcus, his eyes wide. Without a second thought, he fell to his knees, wrapping a fist around the girth and beaming up at Tom. “You’ve got a lot going on down here.”

Tom’s laughter was cut short when Marcus pulled back the foreskin and swallowed Tom into his mouth. In the past, Marcus had always taken pride in the fact that he could deep-throat any man. But Tom Bradford would be a challenge. Nevertheless, he took as much as he could, feeling the velvety head nudge the back of his throat. With one hand, he stroked the length while the other caressed and squeezed one ball, then the other and then tugged both. After a number of times, Tom growled, pushing his hips forward and starting to meet him halfway, his hands clamping into Marcus’s hair. Although Marcus had thought it impossible, Tom’s cock appeared to grow even bigger. But Marcus’s mouth had loosened up now, and after releasing Tom with a pop, he took the big guy down almost to the base, sucking hard, even though his jaw ached.

“Shit. Shit. Stop, Marcus” came Tom’s raspy voice above him as he yanked Marcus’s head away by the hair. “I’m right on the verge. And I don’t want to come yet. Stand up.”

When Marcus drew level, Tom’s eyes had a happy but glazed look. When he pulled Marcus into his body, melded their mouths together again, Tom smoothed his hands down Marcus’s shoulders, down his back, under his waistband, and clamped them on each of his cheeks before pulling his underpants down.

This time, finally naked, Marcus led them past the bathtub into the shower cubicle and let the water run. Once it was hot enough, Marcus pushed Tom beneath the flow while instantly Tom pulled Marcus to him, bringing their bodies and mouths together. Marcus’s cock finally got to say hello to Tom’s. Without prompting, Tom wrapped his hand around both their shafts, Marcus on top, Tom beneath, his hand big enough to grasp them both. Then he began the slow pump, the pull and push, sending a guttural moan of pleasure through Marcus. Still lip-locked, Marcus reached out blindly for the small bottle of liquid shower gel, squirting some on their joined cocks to add lubrication. After that he began to lather Tom’s body, never once breaking the kiss. With his soapy hands he explored the hard planes of Tom’s body: the rippled stomach, the firm pectorals, beneath his armpits and down his biceps, all the time kissing hungrily. Even when Tom reached around Marcus, smoothed into the valley between his buttocks, causing him to gasp aloud, Marcus continued his own exploration.

Maybe because of the earlier blow job, Tom soon began to pump faster, more erratically, a moan starting deep within his chest. Seconds later his whole body shuddered as he shot warm cum onto Marcus’s balls and down his legs. Marcus broke the kiss to watch and almost immediately followed suit, coming onto Tom’s stomach and into his pubic hair.

Both men leaned against each other for support, letting the warm water wash over them. Eventually, still unspeaking, they began to clean up. Tom’s large hands moving over him felt wonderful and soon had Marcus up and running again. And a quick glance down told him that the exchange was mutual. But Marcus had other ideas.

“Tom, we have all night,” he said, switching off the water, stepping out, and turning to face the man. “Let’s grab a beer, some food, and relax.”

“Did anyone ever tell you your nipples are huge when you’re turned on?” said Tom, reaching out and tweaking them, making Marcus flinch and swat Tom’s hands away.

“Hands off, tiger,” he said, grabbing two plump white towels from the rack and throwing one at Tom. “Beer, food, and Arsenal. Then we can do anything you want. Deal?”

“Deal.”

After finishing a dish of homemade cottage pie, organic carrots, freshly shucked peas, and homemade gravy, they sat together on Marcus’s leather sofa, watching the game. Both wore only sweatpants and T-shirts; both rested their bare feet on the coffee table. More than once, seeing Tom’s big feet next to his, Marcus told himself that he could get used to this. He also smiled at how Tom focused single-mindedly on the television every time action mounted, when one of the forwards managed to breach the opponents’ defense, but then, during the many lulls in the game, peripherally at least, Marcus could feel Tom’s hot gaze back on him. During short bursts of commercials, Tom never missed an opportunity to lean into Marcus and kiss him, wrapping a hand around his upper thigh, stroking his thumb across his groin. And then, the second the full-time whistle blew, Tom yanked the beer bottle from Marcus’s hand and pulled him up from the couch. No hesitation. He dragged Marcus back to the bedroom, where he immediately began pulling Marcus’s T-shirt off.

“Whoa, slow down there,” said Marcus, laughing and pulling away. “Let me get lube and condoms from the bathroom.”

“Condoms?” asked Tom, his brow wrinkling. “What? Are we back in college?”

“Seriously, Tom. Although I get tested after every sexual partner—not that there’ve been many recently—I don’t want to take any chances. And this thing we have between us might not end up being what you want, so we should play safe for now.”

“It is what I want,” said Tom quietly.

“Let’s see how you feel in the morning, shall we? In the meantime, condoms.”

When Marcus returned from the bathroom, Tom stood there completely naked and very definitely semierect. One amazing specimen of a man. Marcus placed the lube, box of condoms, and a small towel on the bedside cabinet. This was going to happen, but before passion swallowed them up again, he needed to set some ground rules.

“Another thing,” added Marcus, shucking out of his own clothes. “You’ve got a lot going on down there, so you’ll need to let me take control first time around.”

“Take control how?”

“Well, we could do this doggy style—nice and slow, though, with me on all fours and you behind—”

“No. I need to see your face.”

“Okay, then. Well, in that case you’ll need to lie on your back, I’ll straddle you, and then you let me take you inside—slowly, at my own pace. Then once I’m comfortable, once I’ve gotten used to having all of you in me and I’ve relaxed into a rhythm, I’ll let you take over. Are you okay with that?”

The darkened eyes and slow grin that spread across Tom’s face said everything, but he kept his voice low. “Yeah. I think I can manage that.”

For the next fifteen minutes, they reacquainted themselves with each other’s bodies, slower this time, but eventually Marcus decided to take over. After gently guiding Tom onto his back, Marcus helped get the condom on and then prepared himself with an overgenerous coating of lube. Straddling Tom, looking into those dark concerned eyes, he reached down and positioned the head of Tom’s cock against his entrance. Eyes closed, Marcus took a deep breath and began to take Tom inside. Just as the initial burn had begun to subside, Tom caressed his arms until he had both hands held in his own.

“Marcus, you don’t have to—”

“Hush, Tom,” said Marcus, eyes still squeezed closed. “I want this.”

After another deep breath, Marcus sank lower until he felt all of Tom’s considerable length buried inside him. Sweat beaded his brow and his own erection had taken a vacation, but he had managed to mount all of Tom. And then something happened. Unmoving all this time, Tom’s hips suddenly bucked upward and ignited something explosive deep inside Marcus, causing his eyes to fly open.

“Fuck, Tom,” he gasped. “What did you just do?”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry—”

“No. Fuck. Do it again.”

Tom obeyed instantly, bucked his hips, and once again the lightning bolt of pleasure fizzled through Marcus’s body. Not only that, but suddenly his cock had started to awaken.

“Work with me, Tom. As I lift off you and come back down, meet me halfway.”

Each time they did this, moving to a mutual rhythm, the pleasure became almost unbearable. Marcus’s cock grew painfully erect.

“Swap places, Tom. Can you get me under you?”

Tom, brought out from his own carnal trance, needed no prompting. With ease, and without even pulling out, Tom lifted Marcus and deposited him on his back on the mattress. As Marcus wrapped his legs around Tom’s back, Tom moved in for a kiss before starting the solid rhythm again.

“Harder, Tom,” cried Marcus. “Give me as much as you’ve got.”

But this time Tom ignored him and took complete control, alternating strokes between short and long, driving Marcus crazy. To get better access, Tom pulled Marcus’s ankles onto his shoulders. When Tom finally started to build to orgasm, pounding Marcus long and hard, Marcus lost control and, without even touching himself, shot a huge load between them. Not far behind, Tom growled long and loud, eventually collapsing on top of Marcus.

They stayed that way for a few minutes until Marcus could barely breathe under the weight. Tom must have realized instinctively, because he leaned up on his elbows, slowly and carefully withdrawing his cock from inside Marcus, and then rolled to one side. In the past, partners had mentioned the loss of having someone inside being worse than the initial pain of entry. For the first time in his life, Marcus understood what they had meant.

“Are you okay, Tom?”

When Marcus looked over, Tom was smiling contentedly at the ceiling, like a lion that had just feasted on a kill. “More than,” he said. “How about you?”

“Totally confused. I think I must have been doing something wrong all these years,” said Marcus, almost a whisper.

Next to him, Tom turned his head to gaze at Marcus. “How so?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve always thought of myself as the top. I’m usually the one doing the fucking. The few times anyone has fucked me, I’ve never really felt anything.”

Tom’s face turned thoughtful then. “You didn’t enjoy that?”

“Are you kidding me? Were you even watching? You and your magic cock have just turned me into a bottom. I fucking loved what we just did. That was, without doubt, the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. Hands-free too. Just one thing, as long as you’re up for it.”

“What’s that?” said Tom, his brow crinkling.

“We’ll need to try that at least a couple more times tonight. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Marcus’s heart warmed at the lustful smile that transformed Tom’s face. “Count me in.”

That night, as they prepared to sleep in the same bed, Marcus marveled at how relaxed Tom had become. Marcus donned his dressing gown and purposely took his time switching off lights in the apartment to allow Tom to pick the side of the bed he was most comfortable with. Marcus didn’t have a preference; he often ended up sleeping on the couch after a late night. And when he returned, as he had hoped, Tom sat up in bed on the right side. Marcus smiled, undressed, and climbed in next to him. When they both settled in to sleep, Tom pulled Marcus into him and spooned him into his body, an arm around his waist.

“Night, Marcus,” he said, his warm breath on Marcus’s neck.

“Back at you,” said Marcus.

Just before he dropped off to sleep, feeling cradled, safe, and cared for, a little thought popped into his head.

He could get used to this.

“I’D forgotten you have that huge cast-iron bath.”

That morning, Marcus had woken to someone nibbling his earlobe and something hot and hard nudging his backside. When his hand went behind him, he found that Tom had already slipped on a condom and smothered the whole thing in lube. What a way to wake up, and once again Tom managed to wring an earth-shattering orgasm out of him. When Tom had wandered into the bathroom to get a cloth to clean up with, Marcus had followed and now stood behind him.

“It’s a claw-foot vintage tub. You want me to run you a bath?”

Marcus enjoyed an occasional soak in the tub, especially after being on his feet all day in the kitchen. With the chrome taps, faucet, and showerhead attachment fitted along the wall side, the tub allowed Marcus to sit at either end of the tub or for two people to sit comfortably facing each other. Not that he had ever had anyone else in there with him.

“Only if you join me.”

Until now.

Marcus started the bath running, adding a sprinkling of herbal bath salts, and then left Tom to finish off while he returned to the bedroom to tidy the bed. They had woken after nine, and Tom needed to be at his parents’ house by eleven to help them start the barbecue. But with Tom enjoying every last drop of downtime, Marcus was only too pleased to oblige. When he returned, the man in question already lounged in the bath, his dark-haired chest glistening. When Marcus started to undress, he felt Tom’s lustful gaze on him, and by the time he yanked off his underwear, he already sported an erection.

“Nice” came Tom’s raspy voice. “Now hurry up and get in.”

Marcus stepped into the other end and dunked beneath the water, sending bathwater spilling over the side of the tub. Once he had surfaced and cleared the hair from his face, he sat back and marveled at having a grinning Tom facing him.

“Get your arse up here,” said Tom after a few moments.

In order to give Marcus more room, Tom lifted his right leg and draped it over the rim of the bath, sloshing bathwater onto the already swimming bathroom floor, while Marcus slid up between his thighs. They kissed again, leisurely now, until Tom turned Marcus around and pulled him into his chest.

“You have no idea what it’s been like,” said Tom, his face nuzzled into Marcus’s neck. “I’ve wanted you for the past three months. I’ve lain awake thinking what it might be like lying next to you. And it’s been killing me.”

“You think I don’t know what it feels like?” said Marcus, aghast, twisting around and holding Tom’s face in his hands. “I’ve wanted you for the past ten years. Ten bloody years. Ever since I saw you on that football pitch in the rain.”

After another long kiss, Marcus settled back into Tom’s chest.

“What do you really want, Marcus?”

“This is more than enough for now.”

“No, come on. We all have dreams. What do you really want?”

“I dunno. Someone to hang out with. Would be really nice if someday in the future, I could find somebody to say ‘I do’ to.”

Tom fell quiet then. And Marcus understood completely. Too much, too soon. One small step at a time.

“But honestly, Tom,” said Marcus, placing his arms over the large ones Tom held around Marcus’s stomach, “this will do for now.”