Miles picked up a remote from the table by the door and started his sound system. Then he returned his attention to Gavin. He unbuttoned Gavin’s shirt, then pulled off his own, and they embraced again. Gavin’s smooth skin rubbed against Miles’s soft chest hair, and it felt like every nerve ending in Gavin’s skin was electrified. His dick was already hard, and so was Miles’s. They moved together to the music’s rhythm, skin touching, dicks pressing against pants legs.
Gavin was in no hurry to get naked with Miles. He’d waited too long for this moment, and he had no idea when he’d get another chance. So he forced himself to go slowly, to revel in Miles’s musky scent, to caress his biceps and feel the tender skin of his lower back. He traced that pattern of music notes up Miles’s arm. “Is this a particular melody?”
“The first four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.” Miles sang, “Duh-duh-duh-DAH.”
“Why that?”
“It was revolutionary for his time. The tempo is so fast—one hundred eight beats per minute. And it has a fermata after that fourth note. That means you can hold that note for as long as you want.” Miles shrugged. “It just spoke to me, I guess.” He smiled at Gavin, leaned forward, and kissed him again.
As they kissed, Gavin listened to the slow, sexy Latin tune, and he began to move in time with the music. Miles began to sway his hips, and he took Gavin’s hand. “Let me teach you a dance,” he said, his voice thick.
“I dance better barefoot.” Gavin kicked off his deck shoes, and while he did, Miles removed his shoes and socks as well. Then Miles put one hand around Gavin’s waist and the other on his shoulder and swiveled his hips.
Gavin did his best to follow his lead, and it felt so right to be in Miles’s arms. Gavin dug his hands beneath the waistband of Miles’s sweatpants, feeling the smooth skin of Miles’s hips.
When the song ended, Gavin reached forward and rested his palm against Miles’s hard-on. It was warm and felt thick, and Miles shivered at his touch. Gavin’s hair fell over Miles’s shoulder.
Gavin couldn’t wait any longer, so he untied the string that held Miles’s sweatpants up, and they slid down over Miles’s narrow hips.
He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Gavin slid to his knees and cupped the hefty dick and balls in his hand. “Nice,” he said.
Miles groaned as Gavin licked from his dick’s root to its tip. Gavin grabbed the round globes of Miles’s ass and pushed his head down, swallowing Miles until his nose was buried in the rich, wiry bush. “Not here,” Miles panted. “Bedroom.”
Miles tugged Gavin to his feet and turned toward an open door. Barefoot and bare-chested but still wearing his skinny jeans, Gavin followed. He admired Miles’s ass, a glowing tan with a trail of dark hair disappearing into the cleft.
Three of the bedroom walls were covered with vintage concert posters; a tall bookcase jammed with oversize books took up the other. At the center was a big bed with a black-lacquered frame. It was neatly made, with white sheets peeking out from beneath a geometric-patterned comforter, big fluffy pillows at the head.
Gavin planned to make a mess out of that carefully made bed. He pushed Miles backward, and Miles flopped on his back as Gavin crawled on top of him. He began kissing and licking his way down Miles’s furry chest, burying his nose in the feathery-light hair, until the landscape changed and he was in the domain of the tight curlies.
His hair falling around him like a curtain, he nosed around Miles’s crotch, inhaling his tangy scent, while Miles put his hands on Gavin’s shoulders and urged him forward. “Don’t tease me, man. Just suck me. Please.”
“All in good time.” Gavin loved the feeling of Miles’s hands on his skin, the way Miles dug into his shoulders like a massage therapist.
He took a few experimental licks up the lollipop of Miles’s dick, and Miles shivered beneath him.
“Dios mio,”
Miles said in a raspy voice that was almost a growl.
Gavin took Miles’s dick in his mouth, nibbled around the mushroom cap, licked, and sucked. He tried to go slowly, to savor the feeling of having this man in his power. Miles squirmed and wiggled and muttered Spanish phrases.
The precum oozing from the tip was a salty aphrodisiac, like oysters or caviar, and Gavin couldn’t get enough of it. Miles grabbed a fistful of Gavin’s hair and tensed. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “Can’t hold back…been too long.”
Gavin pushed forward, sucking and licking as hard as he could, tickling Miles’s balls and the sensitive area around the base of his cock, and then Miles was bucking beneath him and shooting his load. Gavin was proud to swallow it all.
He squirmed around so that he was head-to-head with Miles, who was breathing heavily. “You going to be okay?” Gavin asked. “You being an older dude and all.”
“I’ll show you older.” In a moment, Miles was up and had his hand on the mound of Gavin’s dick through his tight jeans. Gavin resisted helping as Miles fumbled them open.
As soon as he could reach it, Miles began licking the pouch of Gavin’s briefs. His sudden burst of aggression fueled Gavin’s lust, and he felt his dick tensing with anticipation, the precum beginning to leak. Miles jerked down the waistband of Gavin’s briefs, and his dick jumped out.
Miles looked up at Gavin for a moment, his eyes glazed with passion and lust, and Gavin’s heart leaped. Then, with a grin, Miles went back down and gobbled Gavin’s dick, taking the long, slim length of it in his mouth. That wet warmth was almost enough to put Gavin over the edge. Then Miles grabbed his balls and began to massage them and started an up-and-down motion on Gavin’s dick.
Gavin began to whimper as his orgasm built. “Oh God, oh God, Miles,” he groaned. Then he shot the load he’d been wanting to ever since he felt Miles’s hand on his throat. Miles gulped and licked and swallowed whatever he could.
Gavin leaned forward and kissed him, tasting the salt of his own cum on Miles’s lips. He slipped down beside Miles, feeling the heat rising from Miles’s body, and rested one long leg over Miles’s legs. His dick was pressed against the smooth skin of Miles’s hip. “I could stay like this forever,” Gavin said. He nuzzled his cheek against the grit on Miles’s chin.
Miles didn’t answer, and it took Gavin a moment to realize that Miles had dropped off to sleep beside him.
The Limits of Language
When Gavin awoke on Saturday morning, he was alone in a king-size bed that he knew immediately was not his own. He looked around groggily, but once he focused on the music posters above the bed, he knew just where he was.
He heard the shower stop, and then Miles Goodwin walked into the bedroom, rubbing a towel over his head. Naked, he was a fine specimen, and Gavin took a moment to appraise what he’d only had a brief chance to study the night before. Miles had a stocky chest covered with a light furring and a healthy-size dick nestled in a tangle of pubic hair.
“What?” Miles asked. He grabbed for a pair of shorts. “I know I have love handles.”
“They call them that for a reason,” Gavin said, smiling. “Because I’d love to get a handle on them.”
Miles stopped with the shorts still in his hand. “Really? You don’t mind that I’m not…you know, buff?”
Gavin sat up in bed. “You look plenty buff for me.” It was true that Miles could stand to lose a few pounds and that a regular gym workout could sculpt his muscles. But none of that mattered to Gavin. After lusting after Miles for weeks, he’d finally had his chance to make the man’s lap rocket shoot off, and he couldn’t have been happier.
He patted the bed next to him. “Why don’t you come join me, and I’ll show you just what I think about your body?”
Miles grinned. “I’d love that. But I’ve got a recording session this morning, and I’ve got to get moving.”
Gavin was disappointed.
“But if you’re free tonight…” Miles said.
Gavin bounced up from the bed like an eager puppy. “You bet.” His dick wagged as he hopped over to Miles, and they wrapped their naked bodies together. Over Miles’s shoulder, Gavin saw the clock. “Shoot. I’ve got to get to work too.”
“Just pull the door shut when you leave,” Miles said as he turned to his bureau. Gavin was able to get a good look at Miles’s sweet ass, two rounded globes with a light dusting of brown hair. Miles stepped into a pair of briefs, then turned to look at him. “What?”
“Just admiring the view,” Gavin said.
“You’ll have plenty of time to admire tonight,” Miles said. “You’d better get in the shower unless you want every customer to know what you’ve been up to.”
He swatted Gavin on the butt as he walked over to the closet. Gavin grabbed his shoulder and stopped him, then leaned in for a long kiss. “Call me when you’re finished with work,” he said when they had pulled back. Then he walked into the bathroom, conscious of Miles watching him move.
By the time he got out of the shower, Miles was gone. Gavin pulled on the linen shirt and tight jeans he hadn’t spent much time in the night before. He checked the handle after he pulled the door to Miles’s apartment shut and made sure it was locked, then hurried down to Lincoln Road, arriving at Java Joe’s just in time to clock in for his shift.
“You are very happy this morning, bwoi,” Careful said after watching Gavin hop around behind the bar, flirting and grinding beans and pouring coffee.
“I’m just a happy kind of guy,” Gavin said, grinning.
“Well, whoever this man is, you can tell him he’s very good for business.”
Gavin spent the day in a delirious haze, thinking of Miles and anticipating the evening. His spirits plunged, though, when he got a text from Miles late in the afternoon.
Session running long. Have 2 reschedge
. At least he’d ended the message with a little red heart.
When he woke on Sunday morning, he found an e-mail Miles had sent at two a.m.
Sorry about last night, but PB is a big client and very demanding. Just got home a few minutes ago, and I have to be back there all day tomorrow. I had a great time Friday night and can’t wait to see you again. Can you come to the studio after your shift on Monday?
Well, that was something, Gavin thought. He typed a message in return.
Of course they need you, because you are awesome in every way. I’ll see you Monday at two.
He hit Send and then sat up in bed with the book Miles had given him, learning about meter, rhythm, and the values of notes and rests.
Monday morning, he was copied on an e-mail from Alan in LA to Miles, confirming their agreement. Gavin nearly hopped up and down in his excitement at the chance to spend time with Miles in Wisconsin, and he was still jazzed by the time he burst into Miles’s studio that afternoon.
“Everything’s set, isn’t it?” he asked. “We’re really doing this!”
“Yup. I worked it out with your dad’s attorney in LA, and he’s been in contact with the concert promoters too. They want you all to sing three songs: ‘Apple Cider Time’ for sure and then two others. I’ve been listening to every recording I can find, and I have some ideas what you guys should sing, but I figure once we get up to Wisconsin, we’ll try out a bunch of choices and see what works.”
“Maybe we can fly up together,” Gavin said.
Miles shook his head. “I have a lot of equipment to bring. I have a friend in Nashville, and I’m thinking I’ll drive up there, stay for a few days, and then head to your family’s place.”
“What kind of friend?” Gavin asked, trying to sound casual.
“A straight one, from music school,” Miles said. “Don’t you worry. But if I’m going to be away for a few weeks, I have a lot of work to do, which means I can’t see you much.”
Gavin was disappointed but tried to cover it. “We’ll have Starlit Lake,” he said.
“For now, we have some time to work on your voice,” Miles said. “After that, if you don’t have any other plans, we can grab some dinner and then…”
“I like the ‘and then’ part,” Gavin said. “Let’s get to work.”
It seemed like Gavin couldn’t sing a single note without Miles stopping him. “Again, Gavin,” he said often. “You can do better. I know you can.”
Gavin was frustrated. Couldn’t they just skip this part and get right to the sex? That’s what he’d always done in the past. But one look at Miles reminded him that Miles was different. He didn’t just want to get Gavin in bed—he wanted to make him a better singer. Which was important because Gavin was determined not to embarrass his family on stage and to find something he was good at.
He wanted to do it for Miles too. He wanted to show Miles that he was more than just a pretty face, that he had a talent and follow-through, that he was worthy of all the effort Miles was putting in.
So he sang. Again and again and again. He pulled together everything Miles had been telling him about tone and breathing and hitting the right note. By late in the afternoon, he was able to sing entire verses without Miles stopping him once.
“I think that’s enough,” Miles said. He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a bag of throat lozenges. “You’re starting to sound raspy. Here, suck on one of these.”
Gavin looked down at Miles’s fingers, holding out the wrapped lozenge, and grinned.
Miles must have been reading his mind, because he blushed. “You’re wicked,” he said.
Gavin took the lozenge, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. Sometimes, he thought, it was better not to say anything and let the other guy’s imagination run.
They went to dinner at the restaurant where they’d had drinks a few nights before. Miles was obviously a regular, because the host ushered them immediately to a table in the back and the chef sent over an appetizer sampler even before they’d had a chance to look at the menu.
“You come here often,” Gavin said, spearing a slice of ruby-red carpaccio.
“Almost always alone,” Miles said. “When I’ve been cooped up in the studio all day, the last thing I want to do is go home and cook.”
Gavin let the “almost always” slide. Miles suggested the Caesar salad and the lemon chicken piccata with artichokes and capers, and Gavin went along. Miles ordered a bottle of prosecco, an Italian sparkling wine Gavin had never heard of.
“To music,” Miles said, lifting his glass in a toast.