“Yes. I…go slow, but yes.”
Ilan had no intention to do anything other than that, but he understood why Fredric needed him to say it. “I’m going to take care of you.” He leaned forward, thrusting his fingers in and spreading them until Fredric groaned, then he kissed the side of his knee. “I’m going to make it so, so good.”
He withdrew, and his hands were clumsy as he swiped them on the blanket, then got the condom wrapper open. He hadn’t been all nerves like this since he was twenty and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing, but he was not surprised that Fredric had managed to reduce him to that shaking mess.
He managed to get the thing rolled onto his dick, then he added more lube than he normally would before he pushed Fredric’s legs a little bit wider apart and used one hand to position himself. “Fredric,” he breathed out, and a hand reached for him, cupping the side of his neck.
“I want you, my heart. I need you. I’m ready.”
Ilan squeezed his eyes shut, unprepared to take that intensity of being cared for. But he wouldn’t want it any other way, because it was so Fredric, and he kept that thought beating in his heart as he pressed the head of his dick against Fredric’s hole and then pushed.
He went slow—torturing himself with centimeters of progress, not looking, but feeling the way shock pushed through Fredric’s limbs. When he was steady, he moved his hands, dragging them up over Fredric’s knees as he bent forward, and he took him by the hips.
“I,” Fredric managed, his voice rough and ragged. “I can feel you.”
Ilan forced his eyes open, staring down at the way Fredric was lying there with his lips parted on shallow breaths. “Can you take all of it?”
Fredric’s whole body stilled, then he reached down with both hands, curling them around Ilan’s ass, and he pulled. Hard. Ilan was powerless against it as he slid all the way in, the lube slick, the heat around him searing. Fredric shifted under him, his breath in small pants like he was uncomfortable, and Ilan knew he probably was. But Fredric’s hands kept him still.
“Full,” Fredric grunted. He released one hand, dragging it up the back of Ilan’s spine, and he pushed fingers into his hair. “Kiss me. Kiss me and fuck me.”
Ilan didn’t need telling twice. The space between their bodies turned into nothing, and their mouths met. Ilan fucked his tongue in with the same rhythm his hips took, more of a grind because he couldn’t bring himself to pull out far. Fredric’s legs lifted, his body less limber than Ilan’s, but he was just flexible enough to squeeze his calves around Ilan’s backside and thrust himself against the cock impaling him.
Ilan was close. He was so, so close. He could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, his balls going tight. “I…I can’t…”
“I know,” Fredric said. “It’s…I’m almost…”
Ilan pulled back just a little, shifting his angle, thrusting, again and again until Fredric arched. There. It was there, the right angle, the right force as Ilan picked up speed. His hand moved between them, grasping at Fredric’s cock, which was leaking a steady stream, and then he well and truly fucked the older man.
The room was a symphony of skin slapping against skin, of sharp cries and hard breaths, and Ilan swore he could hear both of their hearts pounding. The moment stretched on, and one ebbing pleasure melted into another and then into another, and he didn’t even realize he was coming until the ecstasy of it all peaked. He fell forward onto an elbow, shuddering through it, and he was only aware that Fredric had come at some point by the wetness on his stomach and his softening cock.
He swallowed, words beyond him, mouth dry as he eased back and pulled out. He was amazed that he managed to get the condom off and tied, flinging it somewhere in the direction of his bin by his writing table before he collapsed in a heap, the comforter cool against his back.
His eyes were still closed, sparks flashing behind his lids every so often, and then he felt a tentative hand push against his. Their fingers slid together, palms sweaty and sticky with the remnants of their love making, and it was probably the best feeling in the entire world.
“I didn’t know it would be like that,” Fredric said, his words slow and just faintly slurred. “I didn’t…it was never…not even before.”
With her, Ilan knew he was saying, and a perverse sort of joy rose in him because he wanted to erase every memory Fredric had of ever touching her. Rolling onto his side, he picked up a heavy arm and traced fingers down the side of Fredric’s face. His color had mostly returned to normal, save for a few splotches of pink at the tips of his ears. Ilan touched them to see if they were warm, then dragged his fingers along the shell before leaning in to kiss him.
It was slow, lazy, sloppy. It was everything.
“Will you stay tonight?” Ilan asked, making the same offer to Fredric as he’d received the night before.
“I shouldn’t. Everything I have for Bas is at my place and,” he stopped, but Ilan knew what was coming next. “We promised to take it slow.”
He knew it was true, even if the thought made his heart squeeze in his chest. “I like being with you.”
Fredric’s smile lit up like the sun, and he cradled the side of Ilan’s face with a warm palm. “And that’s why I can’t. Because I like it too. Enough to be reckless and make mistakes. I need you to be strong for us when I’m not able.”
Ilan closed his eyes and leaned in until their foreheads touched. “But soon?”
Fredric’s smile curved against his cheek, and he pressed the words into Ilan’s skin. “God himself couldn’t stop me.”
Chapter 23
“You’re smiling,” came Ted’s voice when Fredric stepped into the hollow gallery lobby a few weeks later.
He absently brushed a finger at the corner of his mouth as he let the door swing shut behind him. He was smiling. He’d been smiling a lot lately. Over the last few weeks with Ilan, change had ripped through his life in ways he’d never anticipated, and he was desperate for more. It was beautiful and perfect, and even though they were still trying to take it slow, Fredric could feel something big and important building between them as the holidays loomed and they reached the third week of December.
With Ilan busy trying to get his new practice in order, Fredric had volunteered his services to Ted’s art gallery, handling the handful of legal issues that had come up over the last few months. Fredric felt good to be useful again, even though it wasn’t full time work, but it was something to keep himself occupied. It felt like a glimpse into the future when Ilan got back to work and Fredric would need to start figuring out what the hell he wanted to do with the rest of his professional life.
“Sebastian, find the desk,” he commanded, and he made his way over to the little corner, his dog nosing his hand toward the arm of the chair. He sat, then gave Bas a treat and waited till the warm body settled at his feet. “Is smiling so out of character for me?” he asked after sitting back.
“No, it was just an observation,” Teddy said with a faint scoff, and Fredric heard him pull a chair out to sit. “I wasn’t trying to be rude.”