TWENTY SIX

 

It was a dream. It would have to be, because otherwise, how else could something which should have been so difficult have gone so easily? Why had Aaron somehow miraculously said all the perfect things, all the right things, when Brad had been so convinced that it would be him pathetically throwing himself at the beautiful young man?

In a moment, Brad had been handed everything that he’d wanted, everything that he’d struggled for. Not just professionally, though that was remarkable enough. He’d spoken to Lara, and she was enthusiastic about the idea of him managing Jamie and Lance in their project. But now he had Aaron, too, the solo act that he had wanted so badly, two huge projects that he was going to be responsible for. Yes, the Lost Boys had broken up, but they were going out on top, and that should help to launch both acts.

And, if nothing else, reunion tours were always a thing. There were options, that was the point, where Brad had been so sure that there were none.

It went beyond that, though, Brad realized, as he opened the door to his place and let Aaron in. He had been so very sure that Aaron would never see his place again. That Brad had lost him, and yet, here he was, and it was like he belonged here. Like he had never left, or, more accurately, like he should never leave.

“Aaron.” It was time. Brad knew it, and partially how he knew it was that there was no fear. He was a bit nervous, as he was sure that anyone would be, but the crippling fear, the worry that it would make him somehow less than he was to offer this, that was gone. “I want you.”

Aaron smiled at him and came to him, unbuttoning Brad’s shirt, taking his time with it like he wanted to savor it. And maybe that would normally be fine with him, but at the moment, he wanted more than that.

“I want you inside of me.”

There. That was blunter, though saying those words was hard, no matter how much he meant them. And he saw the shock in Aaron’s eyes, the surprise. If Brad wanted to, he could take the words back, and Aaron would let him.

But he didn’t want to, so he didn’t. He just took Aaron around his slender waist, pulling him close, tugging him to the bedroom. By the time that they got there, they were both completely naked.

“Do you want to, Aaron?”

Brad was starting to feel the first creeping tendrils of doubt, of worry, crawling through the pit of his stomach. Aaron had wanted this before, but that had been before. Maybe Brad had taken him by surprise too much.

But then Aaron nodded, just once, but when Brad looked into those eyes and saw the sincerity there, he understood, as few other people on the planet could understand. He knew that it wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want it. It was that he did, too much to be able to speak.

So there was no more talking. They just fell onto the bed together, kissing, and when Aaron’s naked, slender, lithe body fell on top of Brad’s bigger, stronger one, Brad let it happen. Even when his legs fell open and Aaron settled between them, he let that happen, too.

By now, Aaron knew where to reach for the condoms and the lube, but Brad gripped his wrist to stop him as he reached for the latex sheaths.

“Back before we broke up, I got tested. I’m clean.” Brad took a moment to kiss Aaron, to taste his lips, his tongue, his mouth, before he pulled away. “Are you? Have you been tested?”

Another nod, and then Aaron spoke, and the emotion in his deep, sexy voice was far too clear. Maybe that was part of why Aaron didn’t speak much because he showed so much when he did.

“I’m clean.”

“Good. Forget the condom, then.” This was Brad’s first time this way. He wanted to feel it, skin to skin, to celebrate this. Because not only was it Brad’s first time bottoming, but it was also the first time that they’d been together since they had broken up.

The first time that they were going to be intimate after having told each other that they loved each other.

There was so much trust between them, both of them making the choice to do it, to go for it, to give that gift to each other. Brad spread his legs and focused on his breathing, not really sure what to expect, as Aaron lubed up his fingers until they glistened even in the low light.

Those slippery fingers were cool, at first, as just the tips of them brushed over the puckered, tight entrance to Brad’s body. Brad jumped, but Aaron didn’t push him too fast. He spread the lube there, and the sensation wasn’t bad, actually. That area was very sensitive, and Aaron had good, firm hands.

And then the tip of a slick finger breached him, and Brad momentarily forgot how to breathe.

At first, he didn’t know if the sensation was good or bad, just that it was intense. Aaron was barely inside of him, just the tiniest bit of one finger, and Brad was already throbbing, his cock and balls painful with how swollen they were. It was such an utterly unfamiliar sensation, but as Aaron slowly, just a fraction of an inch at a time, pushed his finger inside of him, the strangeness dissipated.

For a moment or two, Brad still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. On the one hand, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he might have thought, because Aaron was careful and gentle and used a lot of lube. On the other, maybe it just wasn’t for him, because it didn’t feel, surprisingly, like that big of a deal …

And then Aaron’s fingers curled in just the right way, and his fingertips brushed over something that Brad had only experienced from the other side. He had found, and ruthlessly stimulated, the prostates of other men, but he hadn’t known, not until now, what it was like to have that most sensitive of areas touched.

It was so far beyond good. It was almost painful. Rocketing bursts of pleasure spun through his whole body, centered on where Aaron’s fingers were rubbing against him, and nothing else mattered. Not the slight sting as Aaron prepared him, working his fingers inside of him, loosening him up.

One finger, two fingers, Aaron rocked them inside of him, and soon enough, even that wasn’t even close to enough for Brad. He was a mess, his cock dripping precome all over his stomach, his hips rocking up to meet Aaron’s hand, his mouth desperately open to scoop in the air that he seemed to need more than ever.

“Aaron, now,” Brad finally murmured, when he realized that Aaron could probably keep doing this forever. Aaron had been determined to make this good for him, hadn’t he? And he would keep going until Brad asked for more.

Well, Brad was asking. He would beg if he had to. Those fingers had seemed almost like too much for him to take, but not anymore. He wanted, no, needed, to know what it was to have Aaron on top of him, to feel fuller, to be face to face with him as they joined this way for the first time.

“Now?” Aaron murmured back, and there was just the faintest hint of teasing in his voice like maybe he knew exactly what he was doing to Brad. A long, seductive, heated kiss followed, stealing Brad’s breath, maybe his very soul, even more, and Brad groaned and barely recognized the noises that spilled from his own lips as he forced his hips up, trying to take those fingers as deeply inside of himself, like they could somehow be enough even though he knew that they couldn’t.

“Now!” Brad insisted, and then there was an emptiness that was acutely painful because Aaron had slid his slippery fingers out of Brad’s body. He tensed up, only just then realizing how close those talented fingertips had been to getting him off, to making him come, when he lost them.

Aaron eased on top of him, and that helped. A little. Pausing only to drip more lube onto himself, he adjusted his cock, gripping and pressing it smoothly between the cheeks of Brad’s ass, and somehow, Brad found himself spreading his legs as widely as he could, inviting him in.

He had never thought to do this. And then he had thought, maybe if he and Aaron were really together, he would try it. But it had always been for Aaron, a favor to him. A sign of his love.

He had never known just how purely selfish it would make him, how good it would feel. How he might never let Aaron go, once he’d had that glorious dick buried inside of him.

“I love you,” Aaron whispered, and Brad had been waiting so long, his whole life, maybe, to hear those words. And with them, Aaron started to breach him, to push inside, slowly, so slowly. Just the tip, and when Brad’s ass opened up, Aaron sunk inside.

It should have been painful. That was what Brad had always heard, had always understood, about this act. It was supposed to hurt, especially the first time, but Aaron had prepared him too well, and any remnants of discomfort simply couldn’t stand up to the most intense pleasure, sense of fullness, connectedness, that Brad felt as Aaron bottomed out in him.

After that first thrust, neither of them moved for a long time. They just lay there, Aaron on top of Brad, finally connected in the most intimate way possible, and looked into each other’s eyes.

“I love you, too.”

Brad heard his own voice, but it didn’t really sound like him. His body didn’t feel like his own, either, but in the best way. As if his words were a sign, Aaron did start to move then, and that was perhaps unfortunate because Brad had already been so damn close.

It was a few thrusts, a few seconds, maybe, before Brad was crying out and biting at Aaron’s shoulders as if to muffle the sound, but it wouldn’t be silenced. They clung and writhed, and Aaron was making noises, too, at least. At least it wasn’t just Brad.

And then Brad was coming. He couldn’t have resisted it any more than he could have demanded that the tide stopped coming in. The waves lapped at him, then covered him, swept him out into a sea of pleasure and belonging and love that he hadn’t, for all of his experience, even known existed.

Right in the middle of all of this, Aaron groaned and seized Brad’s lips in an intense kiss, and then Brad felt a wetness, a heat, coating his inner walls, and he knew that Aaron was coming, too. Sweat coated them in the grips of their shared pleasure, and for the first time, Brad understood.

Making love, that was what this had been, and he knew then that things would never be the same. Not for either of them, not now that this connection had been forged between them.