Page 8

Beau

Turns out, severe peanut allergies are something Azrael and I have in common.

Also turns out, they’re a major buzzkill.

We were both injected with epinephrine and monitored until Azrael’s swelling went down and my skin stopped looking like a sporadic case of chicken pox. By the time we could leave, it was late, and we were exhausted. My mouth was so sensitive I couldn’t even give him a proper goodnight kiss, settling for a light peck on the lips.

It’s been three days now, and he’s coming to my house after work. I’m dying to see him, no better than a teenager with a crush.

“Mr. Harris, you’re not listening.” One of my students chides me from her seat, and I force myself to concentrate on the lesson.

“Sorry, Katie, sometimes my train of thought gets derailed. What was the question again?” She rattles on, asking a dozen questions about next week’s biology test, and I manage to keep my head in the game, if barely.

By the time the final bell rings and the students file out of the classroom, I almost sprint to the parking lot. Even though I showered this morning, it’s hot outside, and despite living here my entire life, the humidity makes me sweat. We’re staying in tonight, so after I shower, I pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Ten minutes later, my doorbell rings, and I’m almost giddy as I answer. Az stands on the porch, looking like a snack in a pair of jeans and a shirt that reads Wing Man , the cerulean color turning his eyes more blue than gray. The street and driveway are empty, and I frown. “Where’s your ride?”

“I see that mouth is better,” he says, then lunges. There’s barely time for me to catch him as he throws himself into my arms, clutching my neck and pulling me to him. His lips crash into mine and a groan slips free, passing between us as his fingers weave through my damp hair. The hesitation from our first date is gone, and he’s insistent as he forces my lips apart, the tip of his tongue brushing mine.

A low rumble, almost a growl, rises in my throat as I lift him, his legs settling around my waist as I carry him into the kitchen. Our lips never separate as I place him on the counter, tongue thrusting into his mouth while his fingertips dig into my shoulders, spurring me on.

When we finally break apart, it’s because we both need to come up for air. Foreheads pressed together, we’re both panting as we smile in unison. “No adverse reaction this time?” I ask, and he huffs a laugh as he shakes his head. “Good, I was worried you were just allergic to me.”

“Your nuts are safe with me,” he says, unable to stop the giant grin from spreading over his face as I groan and roll my eyes.

“Or is it… you’re safe with my nuts?”

“Both are probably accurate.” He draws his full bottom lip between his teeth. “Maybe we could skip the archery lesson and test those theories…”

“Minx,” I tease, nipping at that lip when he releases it. “Don’t tempt me. I made a promise to make you a better shot, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.” One last, lingering kiss presses against his mouth before I slide him off the counter, setting his feet on the ground.

Muggy evening air washes over us as we step outside. The Tennessee sun is sweltering every day between mid-April and the end of September, hot enough that even the late hour doesn’t offer much of a reprieve.

Azrael takes his time as we walk towards the woods behind the house, stopping to watch the chickens peck inside their pen, then lazing over to the goats. He’s delighted when they prance over, long ears flopping, and crowd him while they fight for attention.

I don’t rush him. Content watching his face light up, I adjust my cap to keep the sun from my face and lean against the fence. “Their eyes are so weird!” he shrieks as they nibble on his fingers. “And why don’t they have upper teeth!?”

“Careful, they do in the back, and those sonsabitches hurt.” It doesn’t deter him, although he narrows his eyes when one of them nips his hand again. After a few minutes, he pries himself away, full of sunny smiles as he joins me, and together, we walk into the woods.

Paper bullseyes are pinned to hay bales between the tree trunks. “There’s nothing around the targets but trees, so if you miss, you won’t hurt anything.”

“ If I miss,” he mutters, “as though it’s a possibility and not a certainty.”

I turn to find him anxiously chewing on his finger. A rush of affection hits me as I walk over and nudge his hand away from his mouth. “You have no reason to be nervous with me.”

“Are you kidding?” he says with a derisive snort. “I’m still trying to figure out how I caught your attention to begin with.”

“Well, you were covered in flour. It was hard to miss.” His laugh comes easier this time, morphing into a groan as he smacks at my chest.

“Then we got dosed with peanuts and you had to witness my swollen, anaphylaxic goodness. And somehow, you still find me attractive after seeing my lips ballooned up like sausages on my face. Honestly, just two dates in, and we’ve faced tougher relationship hurdles than some couples who’ve been together for years.”

A slow smile stretches my mouth as I lean my bow against a sturdy oak, his steely eyes following my every step as I prowl towards him. “Is that what this is, Azrael? A relationship? Are we a couple?”

Another of those beautiful flushes overtakes his cheeks as he tries to glance away, but I catch his chin and force his eyes to stay on mine. “I know we haven’t discussed it,” he says, giving me a shaky half-smile, “and I’m not pressuring you, and there are lots of things you don’t know about me…”

“And so, so much time for me to learn,” I say, leaning in and catching his lips again. “Thoroughly.”

Breath rushes from his nostrils in a whoosh as he kisses me back. It’s another distraction technique that’s far too effective, and it takes effort to separate myself. “Speaking of learning…”

His cheek falls against my chest as he pushes out a sigh. “Oh God, this is going to be awful. You’ll realize how incompetent I am, and I’ll make a complete fool of myself. Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you trusted me to help.”

“It’s embarrassing, ” he laments, and I can’t keep my slight chuckle from breaking free.

“There’s nothing embarrassing about trying to improve.” I kiss the top of his head as I pull myself away from him. “In order for me to understand where you need help, I’ll have to see a demonstration. Show me what you’re doing, step by step.”

Az makes a dramatic performance of his reluctance, but he complies. The confidence he’s started to have around me completely disappears, his posture folding in on itself. Arrow nestled into place, he lifts the bow, but his shoulders are tense, and his back is hunched. The arrow leaves the bowstring with a sharp twang , but his last-second flinch sends it careening far left, a dull thump marking its distant landing.

“Again,” I request, watching as he shoots. The process creates a pattern—the whizz of arrows followed by the thud of them striking the ground and ending with his annoyed grunts. Six more arrows fly before I identify the most obvious of his flaws.

“Alright, stop there for a minute.”

“I’m terrible,” he whines as I jog over and position myself directly behind him.

“Load another and hold it,” I instruct, dropping a kiss next to his ear as his body instinctively leans into my touch. He shivers, then sighs, nocking an arrow and holding it taut. We adjust his stance, and despite his insistence that he’s a poor student, he pays close attention and wants to do a good job. That much is painfully clear.

It also breaks my teacher’s heart, realizing how eager he is to succeed and wondering how often he’s been told he won’t.

With my guidance, his posture shifts, the muscles of his back now absorbing the tension that had been concentrated in his neck and shoulders. “Feel more comfortable?” I drop another kiss on his ear as he nods. “Good. Try again.”

I step back as he looses the arrow. It still goes wide, but the shot is much closer and flies in a straight line instead of wobbling. “Better.” I take my place behind him once more, and for the next thirty minutes, we work until he hits the target.

It’s just the edge, but we jump and cheer and celebrate, and his smile is breathtaking. Two more shots land before he misses another, but his frustration doesn’t flare like it did when we first started. More stance adjustments and a few tips on how to aim, and I step back once more.

Eight arrows in a row pierce the target, each shot growing increasingly close to the center.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing! Fantastic job!” I shout as he laughs, and then the next thing I know, he’s crashing into me, legs wrapping around my middle as I scramble to hold him. My hands land on his ass and he kisses me, smiling against my mouth.

“No one has ever been so patient with me,” he whispers between kisses, and it makes me want to hide him away so that the world can never be mean to him again. He wriggles free and shoves me with surprising force. Not expecting it, I stumble backward until my body thuds against the trunk of a tree. Az reaches under my shirt, fingers grazing my stomach.

“You’re trying to kill me with these slutty pants, aren’t you?” His fingertips slip under my waistband, tickling my skin as my brain misfires.

“Sl-slutty?” My dick catches up to the situation before my mind does, a dull throb forming in my core as it thickens.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, and I hiss in surprise as he drags a finger up my length through the fabric. “Everyone knows gray sweatpants show off your cock, Beau, and you’ve been teasing me since I got here with this thing.”

The slide of his finger turns into the weight of his palm, a shock of pleasure ricocheting up my spine. His stormy eyes flick up to mine as my mouth drops open, my hips jutting forward out of my control. “Maybe I wanted you to see my cock,” I finally get out. “Maybe I wanted you thinking about it.”

Az sinks to his knees in the grass, and a loud moan slips free as my head thuds against the tree behind me. “Well, then, mission accomplished, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about.” His tongue traces along the outline of my dick, so hard now that it strains against the fabric. He leaves it damp and darkened with his spit as I claw at the tree behind me, the bark rough under my fingers as I try to anchor myself.

“You’re ruining my plans,” I say with a breathy laugh. “Dinner was going to impress you, and then I had every intention of seducing you. I was supposed to be the one on my knees. What happened?”

Az glances up at me, humor dancing in his eyes as he continues to lick my aching cock. “Slutty sweatpants. That’s what happened.”

His fingers are like a brand as they curl over my waistband, burning against my bare skin. Insistent lips wrap around the bulge in my pants, sucking through the fabric as my hips move of their own accord, rocking against his mouth.

Knuckles drag along my skin as he slides my sweatpants and boxer briefs down, exposing my cock. He presses his face against my groin, burying his nose in the dark hair as he takes a deep inhale. “Fuck, you smell good,” he mumbles as he drags his mouth over my skin, dotting me in feather-light kisses. “What do you like?”

“I like you. Everything else is just semantics,” I answer honestly, and his eyes soften. “But I also will give you anything you want if you’d please put your mouth on me.”

Hot breath blows across my cock as he laughs, then he takes the head in his mouth and my knees go weak. “Fuck,” I groan as his tongue explores, swirling around the flared ridge of my head and dipping across my slit, licking away the pre-cum that pools there. Dark curls bob in the sunlight as he moves, taking me deeper with every pass.

Spit leaks from his lips, making a slippery trail down my length. My cockhead bumps the back of his throat as he takes all of me, so deep his nose pushes into my skin. Fingertips dig pits into the meat of my thighs as he steadies himself, cheeks turning hollow with the pressure. With only the head in his mouth, he licks across the sensitive seam on the underside, and my legs turn to Jello.

My thighs quiver, and the sight of him grinning around my spit-slicked cock is enough to loosen the moans trapped in my throat. It’s a miracle I can even form words. “I want to see you. Please, let me see you?”

Gray eyes find mine, and he reaches down, unzipping his jeans and working himself free. He’s uncut, the head poking out from his foreskin, and he’s bigger than I expected. One of his hands wraps around my cock, pumping as he draws gently on the tip, while he grips himself with the other. Instead of stroking, though, he snaps his hips forward, thrusting through his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so hot,” I groan as he sucks me harder, hand working in tandem with his magic mouth. Everything in my body is tense—thigh muscles rigid, toes curling inside my shoes, and balls so tight they’re hugging against the root of my dick. “You’re going to embarrass me,” I say on a breathy laugh. “You’re about to make me come too fast, sweetheart.”

His eyes crinkle with pleasure as he slurps along my cock, the slick noises obscene as spit drips along my shaft and between his fingers. Further down, he fucks his fist, his hips moving faster. Az’s eyes squeeze closed, his mouth going slack as his body tenses. Lost chasing his own pleasure, my cock sits on his tongue as he whimpers and moans.

A few jerky, rough snaps of his hips and he calls out as his fist shuttles along his length. His hand closes around his cockhead as he comes, the vibrations of his moan travelling straight to my balls and I stare, enamored, as he shatters beneath me. “You are so beautiful when you fall apart,” I mutter, and he calls out louder as my pre-cum spills onto his tongue. “Show me what you did… let me see that mess you made for me.”

Eyes snapping open, he finds mine as he shudders through the last few pulses of his orgasm. He releases himself, still half-hard as he hangs out of his jeans, and raises his loose fist. I snatch his wrist, pulling it closer as hot, wet suction closes around my cock again.

A puddle of cum sits in his palm as he opens his hand, and my fingers drag through, coating my fingertips. His eyes never leave mine as I lift them to my mouth. Salty warmth hits my tongue, musky and masculine, and something inside me snaps.

It’s primal, and instinctual, and ravenous for what only he can give me.

Moaning greedily, I suck on my fingers, savoring the flavor until every drop is swallowed. Delirious with this sudden need, I scoop through his palm and bring more of his release to my lips.

My hips jerk forward as I moan louder, long and low, plunging my fingers into my mouth. I thrust and suck, jamming them deeper and rougher as my cock swells, throbbing insistently. The noises I’m making are inhuman as I gag, the taste of his cum coating my tongue and pooling hot in my belly. We sync our rhythm until I’m fucking my own mouth at the same pace I’m fucking his, and Az moans beneath me as my cock slides between his lips.

Intoxicated and half out of my mind, I pull his hand to my face and drag my tongue over it, his release sliding down my throat like honey. Everything is tight and heady and too much for me to hold inside anymore.

Before I realize it’s happening, my cock gives an impatient jerk, and everything breaks free. My shout is muffled against his palm as my hips snap forward and lock, my muscles pulsating against his lips as my limbs quiver. I whine, a needy noise I’ve never made before, as I drink the cum from his skin, hungry for more even as I spill my release into his mouth.

Over and over, I whimper his name, until every drop is wrung from my body. Spent, I sag against the tree, my ears ringing as electric aftershocks rocket through my limbs.

Az’s wrist is still in my grip, and I tug on it to help him stand. Rough hands seize my neck and smash my lips to his, and when his tongue rolls with mine, I realize my cum waits in his mouth.

“Fuck,” I groan as he smiles against my lips, and we kiss, tongues battling for dominance as we share the last traces of what just happened.

Gaze roaming my face, he pulls back. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “Eyes fucking feral, drops of cum in your beard, and your leaking, slick cock hanging out of those slutty sweatpants. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Why was that so good?” I ask, panting and half delirious.

He drags a finger through my beard and offers it to me, my dick giving a pitiful rebound flex as I suck the white drop from his fingertip. “Someone’s cum hungry, aren’t they?” My cheeks suddenly flush, eyes darting away, but he steers my face back to his, using my own words to comfort me. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Beau. Embrace it, baby. You’re safe with me.”

“Because you can protect me with that bow now?” My gut rolls with the vulnerability, but Az realizes how much this affected me. The lightness in my tone is a shield, the joking another way to hide from the rawness I’m feeling, but he sees past it.

“No,” he says, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. “You don’t need me to protect that part of you.” His hand slips over my chest, where my pulse thumps under my ribs. “Your heart is what’s safe with me, Beau. I’ll never hurt it. Never on purpose.”

“You’re an angel,” I whisper, and something strange and unreadable flickers in his eyes before he blinks and washes it away.

“Come on,” he says, cheeks flushing as he tucks us both back into our pants. “I believe I was promised dinner.”