Page 104 of B is for Beg
My lip curls.
Cal shrugs. He moves himself and Blake forward a little so we’re all pressed up to each other even closer than before. He puts his hands on my hips. Blake runs his hands over my chest. Soon we’re touching each other as well as dancing cock-achingly close. It’s impossible not to be aroused by the hot closeness of their bodies. The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and alcohol. The music continues to pound and thrum through me. The atmosphere is hypnotic and sexy. The last of my inhibitions flutter away, allowing me to move freely.
We move around each other as we dance. At one point, we’re all facing the same way, Cal’s arms around me and mine around Blake. Our boy tips his head back against my shoulder and rubs his arse against my cock, making me hard. Cal slips his hand between our bodies, stroking my cock through my trousers and presumably Blake’s arse as well. I run my hands over Blake’s chest, loving how thin his top is because it means I can feel the hardness of his nipples.
Cal ends up in the middle of us, and I explore the feel of his muscles beneath his lace shirt while Blake holds his hips and sways in perfect time with him.
When we need a breather, we get another round of drinks and manage to snag some seats at the bar. It’s too loud to hold any lasting conversation, so we watch the dancers and enjoy the music. There’s a new drag queen on stage, a larger lady with bright pink hair and ridiculously long fake eyelashes. The songs have moved into the nineties.
I suppress a yawn with the back of my hand.
“Tired?” Cal asks.
“Apparently, I’m too old to stay out all night.”
Cal snorts, though the sound is drowned out by the music. “Fuck off.”
“We could go home?” Blake suggests.
I stare at him. Home. We don’t have a home together, but now the thought is like a seed that has been planted in my head. A seed that might take root and sprout into a beautiful idea one day soon.
“Good idea,” Cal says. He lifts his glass. “Bottoms up!” And downs the rest of his drink in a couple of gulps.
I take a couple of significantly smaller gulps. Blake takes one last sip and then abandons half his drink as we get up and leave hand in hand. The bouncers bid us goodnight on the way out, and we head towards the tube station, hoping to catch the last train home.
23
Blake
Blake:How did lunch go?
Archie:Mostly okay.
Blake:Mostly?
Archie had lunch with Mum and Dad today. Normally, that would be no big deal, but it was an official ‘meet the boyfriend’ lunch. I assume they decided it was time, as Hamish asked Archie to move in with him on Monday. After talking things over with Corey and me, Archie said yes. I’m happy for him, but it’s going to be weird not living with him anymore. I’m also not looking forward to moving out of the house we’ve been sharing for the last four years. It’s home. It’s the house we helped Corey bring Lexi up in. Part of me always knew we wouldn’t all live together forever, but even with Archie spending more and more time with Hamish, it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d want to move out.
It blindsided me.
Despite that, I was positive and supportive of Archie. But now, three days later, it’s really starting to sink in.
Corey doesn’t have time to house-hunt, so I spent Tuesday and Wednesday scouring rental websites and estate agents for houses I think we can afford between the two of us. There are a few estate agents I haven’t been to yet, but I won’t have time between getting home today and picking Lexi up from school.
I’m curious how Archie’s lunch with Mum and Dad went, mostly so I can use my parents’ reaction to Hamish as a benchmark of how they’ll react when I eventually pluck up the courage to tell them about Gabe and Calvin.
Archie:Even though they knew who Hamish was in advance, they were still a little uptight about the age gap. They got over it, though.
Blake:That’s great.
Blake:The ‘getting it over it’ part. Not them being uptight.
Archie:LOL! I knew what you meant. They know I’m moving in with Hamish, by the way, so they’ll probably call you and Corey later.
Great.
Archie:You know Mum and Dad. They love to help.
I’d have chosen ‘interfere’ over ‘help’, but whatever. Archie gets on with Mum and Dad much better than I do.
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