“I shouldn’t’ve run,” Trent said sternly. “I should’ve fought for you.”
“That’s why I hate misunderstandings.” Wood kissed the deep wrinkles between Trent’s brow. “You don’t have to fight anyone. You’ve already won.”
Trent nodded.
“No more, all right? Because if I ever have to call Mike again, I might not survive it.” Wood breathed against Trent’s temple, satisfied that he was finally home and in his arms. Those sixteen hours had been excruciating. “Damnit, Trent. Loving you is gonna get me killed.”
Trent’s watery eyes met his, a narrow, hopeful smile slowly curving his full lips.
“And I’ll die a happy man.”
Wood waited for Trent in his bed while he finished his shower. He had so many things running through his mind that he knew sleep was nowhere in sight. Things like his multiple sets of portfolios Adam had brought him that were stacked in his bedroom, or the storage that was full of the rest of his possessions. Items he thought were long lost, forgotten, destroyed, or stolen. Now he could stop stalling El and get his art to him so he could apply to start tattooing again and leave the custodial business.
Maybe he was old-fashioned, but it was important to him that he contribute equally to his and Trent’s partnership. To their home. He was happy here for now, but hopefully one day they’d want to have something of their own. Wood’s chest was so full he could hardly remain still. This was all such wonderful news, and he’d only wanted to share it with… with the man he loved.
Trent walked into the room with his towel tied low around his waist. He didn’t look as shattered as he had when he first got home, and that only made Wood want to do even more to help. Trent’s flawless skin called to him as he watched him move across the floor to his dresser. His hair was slicked back, and the few droplets of water Trent left across his shoulders suddenly made Wood thirsty. They made eye contact before Trent’s gaze dropped to Wood’s chest that was half-exposed beneath the covers.
Trent stood in front of his record player, staring at it as if seeing it for the first time. “Can I play something for you, Hersch?” Trent whispered into the dark room.
“Yeah,” Wood answered. After a couple seconds, a soft instrumental began to fill the room. There were no lyrics. Just soft strings and a sensual saxophone. “That sounds nice.”
“It’s called “in a silent way” by Miles Davis. It’s one of my favorites.”
Trent’s tone of voice was too distant for his liking, and Wood pulled back the covers and held his hand out. Trent dropped his towel, linked their fingers, and climbed inside with him. Wood spread his legs and positioned Trent on top of him so he could massage his back. “Are you tight? Did you take some medicine?”
“I’m okay,” Trent whispered. “I’m just pissed I have to get up for work in a couple hours.”
“Mike already told Summer not to expect you tomorrow,” Wood said.
“Damn him,” Trent muttered, beginning to kiss Wood along his throat. “He still sees me as a kid.”
“That’s how fathers are,” Wood answered solemnly. Most fathers anyway.
Trent paused his touch as if he were in thought, but after a few seconds, he continued, and it didn’t take long for Wood to join in on his passion. He tilted his head farther, groaning as Trent used his teeth on his throat. Wood pushed his hips toward Trent’s ass while his lover’s hard cock ground against his abdomen. He lost himself in the sweet sounds of the jazz serenading them while Trent lavished kisses down his chest. Tonguing and licking at his tattoos as if he cherished them. He drove his hand through Trent’s damp hair, pulling gently on the long strands as he held him over his nipple.
“Oh my god,” Wood moaned loudly. Trent sucked relentlessly until Wood thought he couldn’t take the stinging pain another second before Trent laved it with his warm tongue. Wood’s heart began to beat wildly the lower Trent crawled down his thighs.
“You’re mine too, Wood.” Trent gazed at him from where he hovered over his erection. “I love you too.”
Wood rose up on one elbow and cupped Trent’s cheek. He caressed his rough stubble, quietly losing his mind while he waited for Trent to take his first taste. They’d done a lot of exploring each other—well, it’d been mostly Wood feasting on Trent’s purity. Wanting to be his first everything. His first man, the first inside of him, his first good blow job, his first and only true lover.
Trent flicked his tongue out and tasted the head first, and Wood vibrated with the restraint to sit still. He pressed his fingertips into the base of Trent’s skull, stroking his jaw with his thumb. Trent slid his tongue down his shaft, and Wood curled his toes as pleasure shot up his spine. He wasn’t a cursing man, but there were a lot of vulgar words circulating in his mind.
Trent hummed as if he liked what he was doing, liked how Wood tasted. Trent’s mouth was so warm he ended up gravitating toward it, spreading his legs wide until his left one was hanging off the side of the bed. Trent settled more comfortably between his thighs as if he was finding his pace. He gripped him around the base and carefully lowered down on him, that hot mouth swallowing his head.
Deeper, deeper, baby. Wood’s back hit the bed, his eyes rolling as Trent messily slurped around his dick with vigor. Wood had long ago forgotten the music playing in the background, preferring the soundtrack Trent was making.
“Like that?” Trent asked so innocently Wood thought he’d cum all over Trent’s swollen lips. “Does that feel good?”
“God yes. Keep doing that.” Wood felt as if his head was going to pop off when Trent took a cursory lick up his balls. And as if he enjoyed the flavor he found, Trent moaned and sucked on his sack until Wood was speaking nonsense. His dick was so hard he had to take it in his palm and stroke while Trent’s soft lips pressed closer to his hole. Ahhh, yes. How had he gone so long without this heaven? Seventeen freakin’ years without this warmth. Trent was paying such careful attention to his body, the same adoration and attention Wood showed him almost nightly.
“You taste so much better than I thought you would,” Trent purred around him. “You smell good too, Hersch.”
“C’mere,” Wood said huskily, still flexing his hips. “Turn around.”
“Huh?” Trent stared at him through glazed eyes as if he was drunk.
Wood reached down and grabbed Trent in the bend of his right thigh and pulled him around until his knees were straddling his head and his silky body was curved around his. They ended up on their sides facing each other, their mouths hungrily biting and sucking at whatever they could reach. Trent palmed Wood’s ass, shoving him inside, gagging when he went too deep. Wood was going to cum soon, he knew it, but he needed to be inside of Trent, looking him in his eyes, telling him he loved him as he did.
He didn’t push his finger inside Trent’s tight hole until he’d coated and relaxed it good with his saliva, wanting every second of their lovemaking to be mind-blowing pleasure. He sunk deep inside, pegging Trent’s place that made him buck in his hold, knowing his body well.
“Fuck,” Trent groaned, pushing his ass against Wood’s fist. “Harder.”