“Truth! It’s almost like all Barty’s witchiness is in his cooking. Wait, Jordan said that, right?”
Cully’s eyes widened. “Yes,” he said, and a wistful expression crossed his face. “He did. That’s real. We both remember it.”
“It’s real,” Dante murmured, holding him close again. “Our friends are real. You and me right now are real. And we’ll make that date real. We’ll choose a good restaurant, and we’ll dress fancy, and we’ll be a couple. This—you and me—we’ll never get lost again.”
Cully’s smile grew stronger. “Shower,” he said. “I swear to Goddess, it’s like I want to shower more to prove we can achieve a goal than because I actually feel the need to wash.”
Dante snickered, but he also turned and grabbed Cully’s hand to lead him to the bathroom.
THIS time there was brushing of teeth and using of the facilities. That last, they took turns doing while the other turned their back, but the general discussion came about that no, it didn’t matter how often they shared a bed, this was not going to be an okay part of their relationship unless forced upon them by a sadistic house with its own agenda.
Eventually, they made it into the shower, but this time… well, there was boundary crossing. There were liberties taken. There was exploration.
Enough to make them both tingly as they emerged, and Dante took pains to towel Cully off thoroughly, running his lips down Cully’s shoulder, along the side of his neck, over the back of his ear.
And Cully melted into his arms, nestling in there as though this was where he belonged, had always belonged, and wouldn’t think of ever belonging anywhere else.
“Cully?” Dante whispered, making sure his lips brushed the whorls of his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s put off the food for a little.”
“Yeah.”
And with that, Cully turned in his arms and they managed to find their way back to the bed—or the mattress on the floor, as it were.
Dante went slow this time.
He spent an eternity learning Cully’s body, exactly how sensitive his nipples were, how he liked his cock fisted. He kissed his way down between Cully’s legs, hooking them over his shoulders and looking up his body.
Cully bit his lip and gazed at him nervously, and Dante got it. Being splayed out in front of a lover like this left a guy vulnerable, and he was pretty sure Cully wouldn’t let just anybody do this. As he parted Cully’s cheeks and made a meal of him, from his taint to his hole, he knew he was a member of a select club.
He wanted to be the only member, he decided as he licked. Above him on the bed, Cully cried out and grabbed the sheets, body wiggling. Dante kept a firm hold of his thighs and licked harder, taking joy from every incoherent cry.
When Cully started to beg, his voice rough with passion, with need, Dante toyed with his entrance, stretching it while moving up to take his dripping erection in his mouth. Cully knotted his fingers in Dante’s hair, tugging, driving up the urgency, but Dante kept sucking, kept thrusting, until he felt that first hit of come in the back of his throat.
It was as sweet now as it had been the first time.
With that, he pushed himself up, taking a heartbeat to slick his own cock, and drove home, thrusting hard and smooth, using Cully’s face, his voice as his guide.
“Oh yes!” Cully’s cry of satisfaction resonated right in Dante’s groin, and Cully clenched down, shaking with desire, squeezing Dante to the point where he almost lost control.
“Not yet,” he begged, beginning his thrust.
“Now?” Cully begged back, fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Hold on, baby,” Dante urged. “Almost there….”
But Cully couldn’t wait. Driven beyond his breaking point, he arched into Dante, then wrapped his legs around Dante’s hips, spurting between them without even touching himself. The feel, the smell, the simple knowledge that Dante had taken him to ecstasy so fast, so hard, was enough to pitch Dante over his own ledge, and he flew, rutting, crying out, coming, before he drifted down to earth in Cully’s arms.
For a moment their breaths, the feel of their bodies sweating together, even the smell of their sex, were all that was real.
Then Cully spoke. “Did that get better? How did that get better?”
Dante’s low chuckle vibrated in the place where they were both still joined, and Cully threw his head back, arched his back, and breathed through an aftershock so exquisite Dante felt it through Cully’s ass.
And the tightening there sent him into one of his own.
When he finally sprawled against Cully again, he managed words. “I got no idea how it did, but it did.”
“You can’t fall asleep,” Cully said, not like he was mad, but like there was something more to do. “We’ve got to get dressed and break bread, and you have to tell me your big secret, and then we’ll be ready when our friends pull us out of here.”
Dante raised his head and smiled. “You got your faith, then? That they’ll do it?”
“Yeah,” Cully said, stroking his cheek. “I think… I think remembering them with you reminded me of all the times I’ve had with them. And you’re right. They’re my friends. They’ve always been mine. I needed to trust that.”
“Good.” Dante pushed up enough to kiss him tenderly and then had the presence of mind to pull away. “Let’s get dressed.”
Revelations
THEIR dining room table was gone, and so were most of their pots and pans. When they looked at the calendar, it said, as Dante had speculated, they had one night and the next day to go.
They ate dinner—pumpkin ravioli and salad, prepared by Kate and Bartholomew according to the Post-it in the refrigerator—leaning against the sink. Given how little time they had and how quickly it seemed to be going, Cully didn’t let Dante get more than two feet away from him during the entire food-prep time.
“Do you think Glinda missed us?” he asked, his heart hurting for their little friend.
“’Course she did,” Dante soothed. “Remember, Alex has been watching out for her, but I bet the whole gang has taken her on. Think about it—she’s like their mascot.”
“Yeah,” Cully sighed. Then he remembered: Dante had been going to tell him something, and Cully apparently didn’t get to see his dog until all the emotional honesty had been played out. It was his turn to listen. “Don’t you have, I don’t know…. A deep, dark secret or something?”
Dante grimaced. “God, it’s so stupid. I mean, it’s stupid that it’s a secret. I just, you know, my parents are so big on the having-a-real-job thing. And the rest of you guys are so creative. I mean so creative. Jordan with the witchcraft, Barty with the cooking, you with all the sewing, and Kate with the soaps and the lotions and the whole product-and-packaging thing—”
“You make our logos and help with the advertising!” Cully laughed. “And you write the best spells. I mean, Jordan’s got the oomph in the magic, but you’ve got the words. What do you mean you’re not creative? You made Barty’s shelves.”