Page 23 of Regret Me Not

A hesitation at the waistband of his shorts, a flicker of lights as they were dragged down.

More tickling lights along his shaft, and a wafting pulse of breath along the head.

Pierce moaned, the actual sound in the quiet of the storm shocking.

“Hush,” Hal breathed, and that one word anchored him in the present.

The rest was sensual stimuli, his harsh breathing overshadowing the rain beating on the windows and that watercolor firework behind his closed eyes.

Rough tongue, wet heat, a hot cave of pressure—Pierce sighed loudly, afraid to make more noise, afraid that if he even blinked, the moment would disappear. He threw his arm over his eyes and arched into Hal’s mouth, his breathy moans growing but not breaking the bubble of silence over two men on the bed in the dark room.

He lost himself in the wonder of his body, the same body that had felt mostly useless, a betrayal of flesh and blood, over the past five months.

His body did amazing things.

Sure hands tugged gently on his balls, and that was it. “Coming,” he managed, but the heat and the pressure didn’t let up.

I should say something.About being HIV negative.

But he was coming, ejaculating, that part of his body working with amazing coordination considering it hadn’t been used in more than half a year.

He came forever, until he felt pumped from the inside out, collapsing on the bed and pushing feebly at Hal’s head when he became oversensitized.

“I… uh… neg—”

Hal covered his mouth with a sloppy, spit-covered hand. “Hush….”

Pierce moaned, his eyes closed of their own volition. Tired. So tired. Wrung out by emotion, by exertion, by oh-my-God sex! He curled into a ball on his side, only peripherally aware that someone was wiping at his groin with Kleenex and pulling his sleep pants and underwear up over his hips.

The rustling around his body stopped, and Hal backed carefully up against his front. Pierce flung his arm over that slim, taut waist and pulled closer, until they were spooning.

Warm and safe, content in a way he didn’t know he could be, he fell asleep.

When he woke up in the morning, Hal was toasting bagels in the kitchen, singing Barry Manilow to himself. Until Pierce went to the bathroom and tried to peel his underwear off his come-sticky pubic hair, he thought the whole thing had been a dream.

“It’s still raining and thundering!” Hal called from the living room. “You may as well shower—no pool today.”

“Bummer,” he muttered. The cleansing of the pool—that felt like something he needed right then.

“I’ll give you a yoga lesson and a rubdown,” Hal said, his voice coming right from the door. “So don’t hop in the shower just yet, ’cause yoga will make you sweat.”

“Okay—should I stay in my sleep pants?”

“Those’ll work fine. Now hurry up and eat—I need to work you out so we can go shopping today.”

Oh yeah.“Christmas shopping,” Pierce said, the thought actually comforting him. Christmas. His family. His plans. Things not derailed by what may or may not have happened in the heart of the night. “You want we should get decorations? I mean, I’m not leaving until Christmas Eve. Some tinsel might be nice.”

The breathing on the other side of the bathroom door grew awfully damned still. “Sure. Yeah. Let’s do that. It’ll be the only Christmas I get.”

Pierce sucked in a breath full of mostly razor blades, and Hal padded back to the kitchen.

By himself?

Pierce would leave and Hal would be here by himself?

Because it’s perfectly sane to ask this guy you’ve known for two weeks to come with you.

Alone?