“Because I want to,” he said stridently. “Because I’m done withthis.”
“Alain -”
“No! No. Tonight’s been great, and fun, and all that. And you! You’re awesome, but it’s not for me. I can tell. I’m vanilla as the day is long.” He chuckled bitterly. “Just ask my ex-boyfriend.” He grabbed a shuddering breath. “I’m getting really uncomfortable now,and...”
“Scared.”
Alain’s mouth opened, then shut. He frowned beneath the scarf. “No.”
“Yes,” Dillon said softly, stretching himself out along Alain’s back. His hands - hands that felt both rough and strangely familiar on Alain’s body - had stopped their kneading, but they rubbed slow circles along Alain’s biceps. “Not of the darkness, and not of me, but you’re scared. Scared of trusting me, trustingthis.”
Alain swallowed, but said nothing. Dillon’s words had a ring of truth, but that didn’t change anything. Didit?
“You’re always thinking, alwaysoverthinking. Sometimes you just need to trust what you’re feeling, believe what your gut tells you instead.” The hands moved higher, fingers smoothing along Alain’s cheek, dragging along the corner of his mouth, making his heart skip-BOOM, skip-BOOM. Dillon’s voice was a ragged whisper in his ear. “Let me show you Alain. Baby, please, letme.”
Alain nodded, caught by the words, by the tone of them. “Okay.”
Always overthinking,he’d said, and he wasn’t wrong.But…Always?How wouldDillonknow?
“If you really want to stop, you tell me. Say the magic words and I’ll remove the blindfold.Yes?”
He nodded.Trick or treat.If his suspicions were correct, the irony wasstrong.
Still, he cleared his throat and told Dillon in a whispered rush, “Lube and stuff in thenightstand.”
Dillon laughed softly and buried his face between Alain’s shoulder blades like he was savoring the scent. “Oh, Alain. Christ, I love how your mind works.” And Alain’s heart skipped a beat because those were not the words of a perfect stranger, but of someone Alain had come to trust and to maybe, possibly even...love.
Dillon began his ministrations again, his hands tracing patterns on Alain’s skin, but this time it was clearly with intent. His hands began to wander, one fingertip dipping low to trail over Alain’s pucker, the other reaching around to trail down hiship.
Alain felt him leave the bed for a second, and when he returned, he helped Alain onto his knees. Kisses rained down his neck as a thin trickle of lube spread over his hole, and then Dillon’s blunt but clever fingers - first one, then two, then three were inside him, slicking him, preparinghim.
“God, you’re so hot, baby. So tight. I can’t wait to get in there. I feel like I’ve been waitingforever.”
“I can’t... I can’t wait. Dillon, please.” He gave a weak chuckle that ended on a moan as Dillon’s fingers pulled all the way out before sliding home again. “I’m as high as I can go without losing my mindforever.”
“We can’t have that,” Dillon said, an audible thrum of excitement in hisvoice.
His fingers moved away, and Alain found himself rocking on his knees, practically keening withneed.
“Hurry, Dillon. God.Hurry!”
There was a rip of paper, the squelch of lube, and the harsh sounds of their breathing - everything sounding incredibly loud and meaningful with no sight to give itcontext.
Dillon pinched his ass, hard. “One more thing, Alain,” he whispered. “One more thing before I come inside you.” He hesitated for the first time all night, and Alain’s muscles locked down. The voice was familiar, yes, but he’d never heard that tone from him before. “Tell me this isn’t just a one-night fantasy. Tell me you really want this. Tellme...”
“I do,” Alain said, because even though admitting it was scarier than every Halloween horror movie he’d ever seen all rolled into one, the joy spreading through him made the butterflies quiet for once and for all. “I want this every day, more than anything. Iwant...”
Dillon pushed inside him with one thrust, and Alain gasped at the fullness.Pleasure-pain-pleasure,as it always seemed to be with this man, who knew exactly how far to pushhim...
Who had always,alwaysknown exactly how far to push him, in the gym and everywhereelse.
“I want...” Alain began again, but then Dillon slid all the way back and thrust his way home once more, and Alain’s words were momentarilyforgotten.
And so it became a rhythm,theirrhythm - Alain chanting a litany ofwant, please, want, while Dillon delivered with mind-obliterating precision. His fingers dug grooves into the soft skin of Alain’s hips just the way his quiet words had carved themselves into Alain’s mind - firmly, simply, in a way that was meant tolast.
Dillon slid out and turned Alain onto his back, and the scarf around the bedpost unknotted, giving Alain extra leverage, but he had no intention of using it. Instead, as Dillon slid back home, Alain grabbed the post in both hands and used it to hold himself in position, to more perfectly align himself for Dillon’sthrusts.
“Yes!” he cried, as Dillon’s cock tagged his prostate on a thrust. “God, yes. Please. I want you to come insideme.”
