Here's what I think is the last part of my M/M(/M) serial - or at least the last part I had planned. Do I need to go back, fill in the blanks, add backstory, explain a few things better? Definitely. And I will at some point. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoyed these Saturday interludes, as raw as they were.
Dave can’t look away from Steven.
He has seen pleasure on the boy’s features before, looking up as though to open his face to sunlight when Dave was kneeling at his feet, or picking quiet moans right from his lips when Steven was writhing on his lap, each happy sound like a wild flower, unexpected and that much more beautiful for it.
His memory has captured that pleasure as hundreds of snapshots. Some show Steven as the intensity builds, eyes narrowed to slits and his neck corded and tight. Others catch him after the wave, heavy lidded and sated, lips plump from being bitten, just ripe for a slow, deep kiss. In most of these memories, though, shines that one blissful moment when everything is light and pleasure, when there is no place for dark thoughts anymore. But that moment always vanishes in a blink, and the doubts and fears always come back.
But now… now it’s more than a glimpse, vanishing as fast as it appears in those endless eyes looking down at him. There’s no doubt on Steven’s face, no doubt in the way he moves his cock inside Dave, confidence guiding every smooth thrust, every hard jerk. There’s no fear in his eyes, nor in the way he touches Dave, pushing his thighs to open him a little more, caressing his cock until it’s slick and shiny in his fist, ready to come at his command.
Steven doesn’t say anything, but in every moan that blooms on his lips, Dave can hear those words he so longed to be offered by his boy. Those words he dreams of, sometimes, and waking up is always like tearing his own heart out. Steven has told him he loves him before today, but always, always after Dave said it first, always after a pause, brief enough to be meaningless, long enough for Dave to wonder – did he mean it, truly, or was he just giving the expected answer, good little boys say thank you and please and you’re welcome and I love you too?
He’s still not saying it now, but Dave doesn’t care. It’s on Steven’s face, in every gesture that pushes them both toward their release, and Dave won’t ever struggle again to remember Steven in the throes of climax. But then, he won’t need to do it either.
First words; first hint of unsteadiness in Steven’s rhythm. Dave trails his hands over his boy’s chest, feels the flutter of his heart beneath his fingertips, then cups his face in his hands. Smiles and shushes him softly.
“Shh… it’s okay, baby. I know. You can let go, now.”
Steven’s fist, so tight at the base of Dave’s cock for the past few moments, finally loosens, slides up and down, fast, tight, just right. His hips piston inside Dave a few more times, until all Dave can see is stars in Steven’s eyes, pleasure darkening them until they are midnight blue.
Dave couldn’t tell which of them comes first and triggers the other’s climax. It really doesn’t matter. Steven surrenders with a quiet cry. Dave draws him against his chest until they’re heart to heart, wraps his arms around his trembling body. Steven fits there perfectly, head tucked under Dave’s chin as pleasure washes away everything. When he catches his breath and whispers against Dave’s skin “I love you,” Dave could weep. Instead, he kisses his forehead, as chaste a gesture as he can imagine when Steven’s dick and come are slipping out of him.
“Love you too.”
They remain like this for a little while, until Steven’s cooling skin gives a less pleasant meaning to the trembling of his body, until Alex’s foot nudges Dave’s shoulder with all his usual impatience. Dave gathers Steven’s body a little closer. Half asleep, Steven makes a wordless sound of protest, muffled against Dave’s chest. Dave shushes him quietly and cradles him closer still as he moves them up the bed, then under the sheets. He catches Alex’s gaze, and considers leaving him where he is, come drying on his stomach and thighs, saliva dripping from the soaked tie. That would teach him to meddle. Although if he hadn’t…
With a soft sigh, Dave finally reaches up with one hand, freeing Alex’s mouth first, then his hands. He expects recriminations or sarcastic comments; he and Alex only ever seem to share bitter words, these days. Instead, all he gets is a quiet “Thank you” before Alex curls against Steven’s back.
“For what?” he murmurs, hoping he won’t disturb Steven.
He can only see one of Alex’s eyes. It seems clearer than usual, almost like Dave could see his Childe’s soul behind it if he looked closely enough.
“For everything?” Alex says, even more quietly. “For all the things I never said thank you for since you turned me? For not cutting me out of your life even when I was an asshole? For not telling him you tried to push him away because of what happened between you and me? For letting me take care of him, and for taking care of him, too?”
There are words, in there, that Dave never expected to hear; they don’t do so well with apologies, given or received. There’s a promise, too, that things will be different from now on, if Dave only wants them to be. Dave thought he was welcoming Steven back into his life tonight, but it occurs to him it’s a lot more than that.
“Seems to me,” Dave rumbles, his hand slipping upward to curl at the back of Alex’s neck, “He’s taking care of both of us.”
Alex doesn’t answer, but he presses back into Dave’s hand before closing his eyes. Dave does the same, and it’s not long before he falls asleep. He never worries about whether they’ll be there when he wakes up.
He doesn’t dream. There’s nothing left to dream of, is there?