Authors: Sean Michael
“Look at that cutie.” Rye’s face appeared next to his, his giant smiling.
“Just this guy.”
“Well, I think he’s completely adorable.”
“That’s probably good.”
“It’s definitely good.” Rye kissed the top of his head and put the bags into the backseat.
“What next?”
“Groceries and your hat, then we’ll see if we have time for a meal out.”
“And rings. Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, I’d totally forgotten about those. What do we need rings for again?”
Jeff looked at Rye, then grinned. Tease.
“Groceries first. Just in case the weather gets bad earlier than predicted.”
“That sounds reasonable. It’s not like things will go bad.” He hadn’t been inside a grocery store in years.
“Yeah.” Rye pointed out the grocery store, and they headed in. “Anything that looks good? Grab it.”
“I—”
God. Overwhelming. Totally fucking overwhelming.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t…. This is big.”
“Ah. Well, everything is organized by row, so we’ll just start at one end and move along each row. You can do this.”
“Sure. I’m not….”
Stupid.
Was he?
“I know, baby. It’s huge, though, and you’re used to food coming from the fridge or the cupboards in your kitchen.” Rye gave him a wink.
Jeff nodded. It was so normal, so weird. They moved down the aisles, Rye adding stuff to the cart as they went. He didn’t know what to add. All this food, everywhere.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get the fixings for lots of tomato soup and smoothies.”
“Okay. And cheese with bread.”
“And hummus and veggies. We’ll get the standards along with special goodies.”
“Okay. Okay. I like vegetables. And strawberries.”
“I know. We’ll do grapes too, and bacon and pancake mix and—oh, chips.” Rye’s excitement was bleeding into him, letting him relax and breathe. “You want fake bacon or are you good with the real stuff?”
“Can we try both?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” Rye dumped some fake bacon into the cart with the real stuff. “Are you willing to try shrimp and steak and hotdogs?”
“There’s no chicken lips in the hot dogs, right?” He wasn’t eating that.
“They’ve got all natural, all beef ones here. Or pork ones, same deal. No bits and pieces and by-products.”
“All natural. I like that.”
“Yeah. We’ll get some buns to go with it. Oh, check these out—frozen dough to make your own bread.” Rye kept stacking things in their cart, filling it with everything under the sun. Jeff couldn’t help laughing. Okay, this was fun, genuinely fucking fun.
They hit every single aisle, Rye sometimes asking him about stuff, but just as often simply tossing things into the cart. It blew his mind; Rye was definitely getting ready for a long winter. With him.
“Okay. Let’s check out and go ring shopping.”
“Yeah. Okay. And then home, huh?” He didn’t want to eat in a restaurant.
“You don’t want to eat out?”
“No. No, that seems stressful.”
“No stress. We’re on holiday.”
“Yeah. Yeah, right.” Real life was still waiting.
“Say it like you mean it, baby.”
“I just…. Real life is out there. It would be so easy to pretend to really be here, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. You really are here.”
Jeff shrugged, unsure how to explain it. It didn’t really matter anyway. Rye started putting their groceries on the belt, and he joined in, the cashier running it all over the thing that made it all beep.
“Do I need to pay?”
“I’ve got it.” Rye handed over his credit card again.
“Okay.” There was so much food.
“We won’t have to go shopping again for days.”
“Months.”
Grinning, Rye nodded and started pushing the cart full of bagged groceries out to the car. “Probably.” They loaded the car up, the damned thing full. “It’s a good thing the rest of what we’re going to buy is little.”
“Uh-huh. The tires aren’t going to hold.”
Chuckling now, Rye took his hand. “They’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure, I believe you.”
“I’m sure.” They walked toward the jewelry store.
“Do you want gold or silver?”
“What about a mix of the two twined together?”
Oh, that would be pretty. Interesting too.
“You like that?” Jeff asked him.
“I think I could, yeah.”
“Well, let’s see what we can get.”
He nodded, and they headed in, the little store warm, inviting. They wandered for a moment, looking in the display cases. The salesman walked up. “Can I help you?”
“Please. We’re looking for matching wedding bands.” Rye put an arm around Jeff’s shoulders.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
Jeff gave the guy a tentative grin. No haters. Good.
Rye smiled down at him, clearly thinking along the same lines. “Thank you. Do you do custom stuff?”
“We have a number of options, and we work with a number of local jewelers. Do you see something you like?”
“It’s all very nice, but we were thinking of a band with white and yellow gold twined together.”
“Oh? Something like this?” He showed them something big and clunky, and Jeff shook his head.
“No.”
Rye took his hand and showed it to the jeweler. “Something more delicate that will look good on long, slender fingers.”
“Let me think….” The salesman pursed his lips. “I think I should get your e-mail, and let’s see if we can find something custom.”
Rye looked at him and grinned. “Yeah, yeah, that works for us, doesn’t it?”
“I think so. Something unique.”
Rye took the pen and paper that the salesclerk handed over and wrote down his e-mail address. “We appreciate your willingness to accommodate us.”
“Absolutely. Are you interested in stones?”
Jeff shook his head. “I don’t think so. Rye?”
“No. We’d like it to be simple. Classy.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“I’ll have our creative team put together a few sketches and e-mail them to you within the week. Is that soon enough?”
Rye nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.” They headed out, the snow beginning to fall. “That place the toy store lady said had nice hats is just around the corner. I think we’ve got time if we’re quick.”
“Okay. I don’t need anything fancy. Just soft.” He wasn’t picky. Well, okay. He was totally picky, but he wanted a hat.
Rye led him to the place they’d been given directions to—it was a craft place, and it didn’t take them long to find the knitted stuff. There was a cap made with the softest yarn he’d ever felt, ever.
Oh, that one.
“That blue brings out your eyes.” Rye smiled and touched his cheek.
“Is that cool? No one knows my eyes.”
“It’s very cool—they’re beautiful eyes.” The words warmed him, all the way through. Rye bought the hat and slid it onto Jeff’s head as they went back out. Oh, this was going to be his new favorite thing. Rye put an arm around his shoulders, and they moved quickly back to the car through the falling snow.
“It’s getting heavier.” Jeff raised a hand, catching flakes on his palm.
“Yeah. Going straight home after the hat was the right choice.”
“There’s lots of food in the car. Lots.” He hurried to the car, a little wigged out, ready to go home.
Rye’s soft chuckles soothed him a little. “There is. We’re going to be fine, baby. The roads are still clear, and I’m a safe driver.”
“Uh-huh. I know.”
Rye bundled him into the car, turning the heater up high.
“Home, home, home!” Jeff found a song he loved on the satellite radio.
Rye sang along with him as they drove, and as soon as they were out in the country again, it felt like they were already back in their own little white world. It was fascinating and wonderful and scary, all at the same time. But as long as he had Rye here with him, he figured he could survive it.
T
HE
STORM
raged and raged, and when they got up the next morning, it was still snowing and the lights were out.
Rye said a small thank-you for gas heating and gas stoves. What could have been a little scary was cozy instead. Burrowing deeper into the covers, he pulled Jeff close.
“It’s okay, right?” Jeff was still mostly asleep.
“Uh-huh. We’re just fine, baby.” He stroked Jeff’s side soothingly.
“The lights aren’t on. They’ve been out since three.”
“Why were you awake at three?”
“I don’t know. I think the quiet. Maybe the total darkness.”
He listened for a minute. “Wow, it is quiet. I mean, it’s quiet here anyway, but now it’s really quiet.”
“Uh-huh.”
Oh, how odd for Jeff. The man lived with noise.
“We’re good, though. We’ve got heat, and a way to cook. And we can always throw the food out into the snow if it lasts too long.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s true, huh?” Jeff snuggled into him. “It’s like we’re all on our own.”
“I know. The last two people on earth.” He made
dun dun dun
noises.
As he’d hoped, Jeff giggled, going along with the joke. “Dude. There’s no TV.”
“That’s okay, we have eight million games if we get bored of banging our brains out.”
“Banging our brains out?”
“Boinking? Hot whoopee? Making love?” Jeff cackled, the sound merry, warm. “All of the above,” Rye suggested, fingers beginning to move on Jeff’s warm skin.
“I like this, being with you.”
“It’s my favorite thing.” He felt Jeff smile against his skin. Tilting Jeff’s head, he took a kiss, feeling an easy morning want turning into something more. Jeff stroked his chest, touching him gently, carefully.
“I won’t break,” he assured Jeff, pushing into the touches.
“Am I doing it wrong?”
“No, there is no wrong. I don’t mind a harder touch, though.”
“Okay.”
Sweet baby. It amazed him, the mixture of cynicism and innocence. He took another kiss. He loved kissing Jeff. He could do it forever. Jeff reached up, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him. He knew Jeff loved their kisses too.
Sliding his thumbs back and forth across Jeff’s nipples, he teased Jeff’s tongue with his own.
“Love you….” Jeff hummed, so quiet.
“You too, baby. You’re my heart.”
Jeff’s smile was settled, warm. Happy. Rye loved that he’d given this to Jeff. He wanted to give his lover more. Rolling onto Jeff, he deepened the kiss. Jeff wrapped around him, arms and legs holding on tight.
“I want you. I want to feel your tight body around my cock.”
“Oh.” Jeff gasped, groaned a bit.
“Uh-huh.” He licked at Jeff’s lips, then nuzzled along Jeff’s throat, tongue sliding on hot skin. Jeff’s chin lifted, throat working. Rye explored every inch, then found a spot, the perfect spot. Opening his mouth, he began sucking.
Soft, musical sounds filled the air, Jeff right there, soaring with him. He slapped at Jeff’s skin with his tongue as he continued to suck. Jeff shifted under him and rubbed against him. His cock was hard, bumping against Jeff’s.
“So warm. Warm.”
“For you.” He bit at the spot he’d pulled up.
“Uhn.”
Oh, that was a good sound. So Rye did it again, rolling their hips as Jeff made the sound again.
“Want.” His lover still sounded so surprised.
“Me too.” He grabbed the lube from the bedside table. Jeff hummed and rocked, singing for him. Rocking in time with Jeff’s music, he slicked his fingers up.
Dancing for him. Jeff was dancing for him.
Sliding a single finger into Jeff’s hole, he encouraged the dance. Jeff’s lips parted, tongue lapping his lips. Pushing deep, Rye found Jeff’s gland. When he pegged it, Jeff sat up and gasped, hips rolling, once, twice.
“Easy,” Rye murmured, encouraging Jeff to lie back down.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
“No, no. That was an amazing reaction. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Okay. That was big.”
After easing Jeff down, Rye touched his gland again. Sliding a second finger in as well, he pegged the spot a little harder.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.”
The little noises just kept coming. They were fucking intoxicating. He spread his fingers wide, twisted them together, then pushed in deep again.
“Rye!” The cry was sharp, wanton, and Rye wanted more. Twisting his fingers, he kept pushing, kept stimulating that sweet little gland. He wanted Jeff to fly.
Jeff kept moaning, kept riding his touch. Fuck, yes. Yes. That’s what he wanted, that freedom, that need. With his free hand, he flicked Jeff’s right nipple. They needed rings. Needed them. Then he could twist and tug and flick and make Jeff absolutely crazy. He wanted the rings back everywhere they used to be too, wanted to touch freely, to make them sing. He’d find a place they could go to once this snowstorm was over, when they’d cleared the roads.
In the meantime, Rye had fingers and teeth and could make those pretty little nipples sing. He leaned down, caught one in his teeth, and rolled it, side to side, sensitizing it. He kept finger-fucking Jeff while he did it, letting the sensations merge together.
“Rye. Rye, I… it’s big.”
“It’s supposed to be.” He licked the abused nipple, pressing hard with his tongue. Jeff’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at him. He let Jeff tug him up so he could take a kiss, his tongue fucking Jeff’s lips like his fingers were fucking Jeff’s tight ass.
Jeff sucked his tongue, almost whining now. He had his baby needing. He’d wait until Jeff was begging, though. Breaking the kiss, he moved to bite at the unabused nipple, eager to give it extra color.
“No more biting—”
“You love it.” It turned Jeff on.
“I love you.” That wasn’t a denial, and he bit at Jeff’s jaw. Jeff arched, driving down on his fingers.
“Need it to be me.” He pulled his fingers out and grabbed a condom, sliding it on. Then he slicked up his cock, getting it well lubed.
“Uh-huh.” Jeff’s body moved like Rye was still touching. He loved how sensual Jeff was, how alive and responsive. Jeff had blossomed for him. And Jeff had given him a reason to care.