Page 35

The moment lingers, a brief cooldown in the otherwise steamy atmosphere of Mal’s bedroom.

Any other time Mal has been gagged during their scenes—made unable to speak, anyway—they’ve used a clicker. But Mal didn’t want to use one tonight. Wanted to be able to fully let go and not have to worry about holding on to the thing during the scene. They’ve already talked about Mal tapping out—“I’ll fuckin’ smack you if I need to, man,” Mal had said—but Rowan wants to double-check. Wants to be sure that it’ll happen if it needs to happen.

He locks eyes with Mal, pupils already dilated in the dim, warm light cast only by the two bedside lamps, and finds nothing but excitement and sincerity. No doubt or anxiety or anything else that would give Rowan pause.

He blinks, breaking them out of the still moment and crashing back to reality. The reality that he’s going to get his hands around Mal’s throat for the first time. Rowan pushes Mal’s chest, watching with rapt attention as Mal falls gracefully backward and hits the bed with a soft whump . The bedding rustles underneath him, as soft and supple as Mal’s spread thighs. He’d been longing for the day he’d get Mal in an actual bed, and now that that day is here, he hardly knows what to do with himself.

So he settles on what he knows, crawling onto the bed after him and raking his hands up and down Mal’s legs and thighs, fingertips digging into the lace tattoo on his upper thigh, watching the skin turn from black and white to red and pink. If Rowan were trying to show Mal his love of him as a person through his love of his thighs, he’s sure it would come across and leave little doubt.

He teases Mal until every inch of his thighs and chest and arms and neck are flushed pink. Until his nipples are as hard as his cock. Until there’s a generous wet spot on the front of his briefs. Until his breathing is ragged and his voice is strained.

“Hurry the fuck up, man… I’m halfway to blowing already,” Mal whines after apparently too long.

Rowan smacks him hard on the inside of his thigh, the flesh jiggling underneath and turning a bright scarlet with the force of his handprint.

“Patience, Mal.”

But Rowan caves after only a few more minutes of exploring Mal’s body, mostly because he wants to get the show on the road as well. If he was a stronger man, he’d spend all night drawing sighs and whimpers from Mal’s lips.

With fingers hooked under the elastic waistband, he tugs Mal’s briefs over his hard cock and down his legs. Underwear gone, he shuffles closer between Mal’s spread legs, slotting his knees under Mal’s thighs. His cock is hard and flushed pink and dripping greedily from the tip onto his lower stomach, making the soft strands of pubic hair glisten with moisture. Rowan runs a finger through the precome and brings it to his lips.

“Tastes good,” Rowan tells him.

“Fuck…,” Mal breathes, jaw slack and eyes lidded.

Rowan watches Mal’s eyes dip down to his own cock as another bead of precome wells up at the tip.

“You wanna taste?”

Mal nods, face flushed.

Rowan grabs Mal’s hand, gathers a drop of the precome on Mal’s index finger and guides it back up to his mouth. The pearly liquid all but dissolves on Mal’s tongue as he sucks his own finger into his mouth.

“Mmm…,” Mal hums.

“So fuckin’ hot, Mal. How ’bout you get my fingers nice and wet for me, hmm?”

Rowan slips two of his own fingers into Mal’s mouth alongside his, feeling Mal’s tongue immediately coil around his digits and soak them in saliva.

“That’s it, just like that.”

As Mal sucks on Rowan’s fingers, Rowan gives his cock a few cursory strokes. He can feel Mal’s moan vibrate through his fingers and down his wrist, a direct line to his own sorely neglected cock. Their eyes meet—Mal’s lidded and heady—and Rowan can feel his own pupils dilate further.

Once Mal’s got Rowan’s fingers nice and coated, Rowan pulls them out and immediately dips them between Mal’s cheeks and circles his tight rim in teasing spirals until he’s able to slip inside to the first knuckle.

Above him, Mal moans softly.

“Give me the lube,” Rowan instructs.

Dutifully, Mal reaches to the bedside table and then passes a bottle of lube—the same Good, Clean Love brand that they use at the Menagerie—to Rowan.

As Rowan opens him up with his fingers, it’s all he can do not to rock forward and thrust into the mattress. He’s more turned on than he can ever remember being in his life watching Mal gasp and listening to him whimper as Rowan stretches him. He’s got Mal’s legs hiked up over his thighs, lower back arching off the mattress as he thrusts onto Rowan’s fingers.

“Rowan, wanna see you…,” Mal whines, apparently not content with Rowan still being fully clothed.

Laughing gently but not unkindly, Rowan withdraws his three fingers from Mal’s hole, pulls off his T-shirt, and tosses it onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

“That good, your highness?”

“All of you….”

Mal sounds like he’s halfway to being fully fucked out, not like he’s only been caressed and fingered for twenty minutes or so.

Rowan could argue the point that he shouldn’t be taking orders from his sub, but it’s not that kind of mood tonight. Not really. And Rowan would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be naked in a real bed with Mal fucking yesterday .

So he gets off the bed, keeping eye contact with Mal as he unbuttons his jeans and steps out of them, pulling his socks off in the process. Grabs at his hard cock through his briefs for a moment before shucking those off too. He stands before Mal fully naked, and the hungry look in the other man’s eyes pulls him back to the bed like a magnet.

He takes his place between Mal’s spread legs once more, shuffling forward as far as he can. With a generous coating of lube, he takes both their cocks in one hand, stroking them together and making a keening cry spill out of Mal’s mouth.

“Oooh, fuck !”

“Thought you might like this. Feel good?”

Mal nods frantically.

“C’mon, Mal. Wanna hear how much you like it.”

“Feels so fucking good… big hands around both’a us.”

“Yeah, know how much you like my hands, Mal. Tell me all the time.”

Likes that they’re big and can span most of any one of Mal’s body parts—his torso or his hips, sure, but especially that he can completely encircle Mal’s wrists with plenty of room to spare. That he can completely cover Mal’s neck.

Rowan’s instantly harder than he thought possible, fucking into his fist and feeling the slick slide of Mal’s cock against his own. It’s hot and firm, and he can feel every vein and every twitch as he rubs them together, hips and fist working overtime to chase the pleasure.

Mal’s jaw falls slack once more, hitting his chest briefly before his entire head thrashes back against the pillows and his thighs tighten around Rowan’s waist. It looks and feels and sounds like Mal’s seen God, and it sends Rowan’s ego into overdrive.

“Shit… gonna…. Please , don’t wanna—” Mal mumbles, one arm slung over his mouth and muffling his words as he writhes against the bed.

But Rowan gets the gist anyway, quickly removing his hand and watching Mal’s chest finally deflate in reprieve.

“Can’t have you coming too soon,” Rowan laughs. “Haven’t even gotten my hands on you where we both want ’em yet.”

Rowan runs a hand up Mal’s torso, feeling his taut abs quiver under his touch. He skirts his fingers to Mal’s neck, ghosting over his clavicle and the hollow of his throat. Mal’s body is racked with a shudder as he moans.

Rowan slides back onto his heels, slicking his cock in lube and wiping the excess on the sheets before pushing Mal’s legs up to his torso.

Their eyes meet as Rowan slides into him in one long motion, eyes fluttering shut at once again being inside Mal’s tight heat. It’s a feeling like no other, one that threatens to drive him insane each and every time. A heavy, gut-wrenching feeling that hits him in every single cell in his body. At first he keeps the pace slow, letting Mal adjust once more to his size and girth. When he feels Mal’s heels dig into his lower back, driving him forward, he picks up the pace ever so slightly.

Rowan fucks into him languidly, right hand resting on Mal’s clavicle.

“Rowan… choke me,” Mal rasps.

He looks so desperate yet so eager that Rowan relents at once, a thrill rushing through him. This is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. The moment Mal’s been waiting for.

Rowan wraps his hand around Mal’s throat, fingers spanning the entire width of his neck. He’s done this before, plenty of times. Mal and he both get off too hard on it to keep entirely away from each other, but to actually get to squeeze , to dig his fingers in and see Mal’s reaction to the real deal? He can hardly wait.

But he hesitates, stilling his hips and his hand. From here Mal’s neck looks so fragile. So pale and thin that all it would take is one wrong move and….

“You won’t hurt me,” Mal whispers to him.

Rowan feels Mal’s Adam’s apple bob beneath his palm. Feels Mal’s muscles ripple under his fingertips. Feels Mal’s chest rise and fall under his wrist.

And he squeezes.

Gently to begin with, until there’s the first sign of Mal’s mouth parting in a perfect O.

Then firmer. With more confidence as Mal’s skin tints from peach to pink to red. As his eyes roll back in his head and his eyelids flutter shut. As he clenches impossibly hard around Rowan’s cock.

Rowan fucks into him hard and fast, and he chokes him with a firm, steady grip that has a hoarse, wordless rasp of a cry dripping from Mal’s lips.

Rowan’s other hand caresses the side of Mal’s face until he manages to open his eyes wide enough for Rowan to see the gold nearly completely blacked out.

That’s all it takes, really. A few minutes of sustained thrusts and squeezing and Mal’s whole body is shaking beneath Rowan. He knows he’s hitting him deep, hitting him right where he wants it, and cutting off the sweet supply of blood to his brain and getting him right to that dizzying state that Mal so desperately craves.

Mal comes violently, with a wordless cry as he spills across his own stomach, a sticky mess that smears across Rowan’s lower belly as he fucks hard into him.

At once Rowan releases his hand from around Mal’s throat, and he watches the color rush back to his face. Mal takes great gasping breaths and pulls Rowan down by the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together and breathing hot into the space between them like Rowan’s going to provide all the oxygen Mal’d gone without for the past few minutes.

“Fuck, Mal…” is all Rowan can say as he squeezes his eyes shut and comes in long, thick pulses that must fill Mal to the brim.

The strength of the orgasm nearly takes Rowan’s own breath away, forcing him to gulp down the air in the scant space between them to stop his limbs from shaking. He’s still inside Mal, but he can feel his cock softening and the come and lube leaking out onto the bed, and he knows he needs to pull out soon. But he wants to lie here, inside and surrounded by Mal, basking in the afterglow. He allows himself the luxury for a minute, maybe two, before he forces himself to pull out and roll over onto his back next to Mal, chest still heaving.

“I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever come,” Mal says, voice still hoarse.

Rowan laughs. “Gonna have to do this more often, then, if you wanna top it.” He props himself up on one elbow, turning to Mal. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm,” Mal hums softly. “Good. Great. Knew you’d be fuckin’ perfect at it, Red.”

“I’m glad. Was really hot seeing you like that.”

“Ditto.”

Rowan caresses Mal’s neck softly with his fingertips, the red welts in the shape of his fingers already starting to take shape. He knows they won’t last until tomorrow—he wasn’t choking him that hard—but they’ll last for a few hours at least. Rowan’s tempted to ask if he can take a photo to remember this night and everything that it’s entailed so far.

Mal’s breathing slowly returns to normal, along with his pale complexion. Rowan watches the rise and fall of his chest, focusing on the solid lines of his tattoos with each exhale and on his musculature with each inhale. In profile, he’s beautiful. All sharp nose and delicate eyelashes and high cheekbones and mussed hair with traces of sweat drying at his temples.

They lie there in silence, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. Rowan continues his touches along Mal’s chest and arms and neck if for no other reason than he wants to touch him. Wants to still be connected to him in some way. The only sound in the room is the gentle, soothing pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows outside, and Rowan thinks he hasn’t ever been this content in his entire life.

“Think I wanna change my safewords,” Mal says after a long few minutes of nothing but slow and steady breaths.

“Yeah?” Rowan replies, curious.

“Yeah. Use actual words instead’a colors.”

The admission surprises him. Rowan remembers something about Mal saying he didn’t need to think about his old math teacher when he was in bed, which is why he uses colors in the first place.

“How come?”

Mal hesitates, rubs at his eyebrow with his index finger before meeting Rowan’s eyes. He rises up on one elbow, partially leaning over Rowan, the look in his eyes unreadable but determined.

When he answers, his voice is softer than Rowan’s ever heard it before.

“’Cause now I associate red with you… and I don’t ever wanna think of you as a bad thing.”

A lump forms in the back of Rowan’s throat that doesn’t seem to want to go away no matter how much he swallows around it.

“Mal….”

“You always keep your promises?” Mal asks in a whisper.

“Always.”

It doesn’t register with Rowan why he’s asking until Mal’s free hand comes up to cup Rowan’s cheek, warm palm gently resting on his skin.

Time moves in slow motion.

Vaguely, Rowan registers Mal leaning closer, leaning in , but it isn’t until his soft lips are pressed against his own that he realizes what’s happening. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, an undignified whimper erupting from the back of his throat. Rowan’s brain finally gets with the program, and he kisses Mal back. Slow and soft and filling Rowan’s entire body to the brim with butterflies and fireworks and cotton candy. Mal’s plush lips moving against his own beat every single scene they’ve ever done. His kiss beats the high of getting him into subspace and making him come by a landslide.

Rowan wants to roll them over, press Mal into the mattress and kiss the life out of him until both their lips are chapped and their spit runs dry, but this isn’t the time. He thinks that maybe Mal needs to be in control right now. Set the pace. Later. Rowan can take over later, because there’s gonna be a later, he’s sure of it. With the way his heart is pounding in his chest and the way Mal’s shifting his weight to straddle Rowan’s hips and get closer, closer, there’s definitely going to be a later.

They kiss for what feels like hours and seconds all at once. Exploring each other’s mouth softly with lips, then more eagerly with tongues, a mutual gasp at the first touch. Mal tastes like fire and cinnamon sugar and something that makes Rowan’s toes curl and his belly twist itself into knots.

When they pull back, Mal’s eyes flutter open slowly, gilded honey even in the dim lights of his bedroom.

He’s beautiful, perfect, gorgeous , and Rowan’s never wanted to keep kissing someone so badly in his entire fucking life, his lungs aching for the taste of him.

“Stay,” Mal whispers, lips still brushing against Rowan’s.

Rowan nods silently, pressing his forehead against Mal’s and letting his eyes drift shut as his lips find Mal’s once more.

IT’S EASY, navigating being in Mal’s space. Far easier than he thought it might be in the spare seconds he’d given to thinking about it between kissing Mal. They slip their briefs back on and pad barefoot across the plush carpet of the bedroom to the bathroom.

Side by side, they wash their hands and faces and wipe the come off of their stomachs. They brush their teeth in tandem—Rowan borrowing an extra toothbrush that Mal had stashed under the sink—like they’ve been doing it for years. Rowan takes his pills he always carries with him with a cup of tap water, completely unashamed of doing so in front of Mal for the first time.

It feels so good, so domestic , that it fills Rowan with amber and sunlight in a way that he’s never felt before.

Together they change the soiled sheets, working side by side so easily that Rowan’s heart soars with every corner they tuck in. It reminds Rowan of that first time they cleaned up the bed together after the gangbang—working as if they’ve been cohabiting each other’s space for years, not months.

They climb into bed, Rowan on the left and Mal on the right, again so natural and uncomplicated that Rowan questions why he was ever worried about them working out in the first place.

They face each other, talking about nothing important as their eyelids droop closed and the promise of sleep takes them. Mal leans forward, drawing Rowan into a simple kiss that makes Rowan melt.

Mal rolls onto his other side, letting Rowan wrap his arm around his waist and pull him close against his chest. Rowan feels him sigh before relaxing completely into the mattress, warm and pliable and the best thing Rowan’s ever felt in his arms.

Like that, they fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

WHEN ROWAN wakes in the morning, it’s the warmest he’s ever felt.

For a brief moment, it doesn’t register why he feels this way, until he tries to turn over onto his side and is greeted with Mal’s peaceful face. Mal’s right arm is flung across Rowan’s stomach, curling protectively around his side. His face is nuzzled into Rowan’s shoulder, one cheek smooshed up so his lips are parted slightly, a thin wisp of drool in the corner. Hair ruffled within an inch of its life.

He’s by far the most beautiful thing Rowan’s ever seen, and he looks his fill to commit every part of this moment to memory.

Gently he brushes a lock of hair away from Mal’s forehead, the thin golden strips of light streaming in from the windows illuminating his perfect face. The action makes him stir, a soft trilling moan of sleepiness rising up from the back of his throat.

“Morning,” Rowan whispers, voice scratchy with disuse.

“Mmm, mornin’,” Mal rumbles back.

Rowan runs a hand through Mal’s soft hair, strands sliding silkily through his fingers. With a shudder that racks his entire body, he realizes he wants to wake up like this every single day for the rest of his life.

He cups Mal’s chin and draws him in, when Mal stops him.

“ Mmf , I’ve got morning breath, man,” Mal complains, hand over his mouth.

“Don’t care. Been waiting forever to kiss you.”

Mal does not, in fact, taste like morning breath. He tastes like nothing much at all and too much all at once. Tastes like Mal , and Rowan thinks that it might be his new favorite taste.

They kiss slow and languid, Rowan running his tongue along the seam of Mal’s lips before delving inside, licking behind his teeth. Mal moans, opening his mouth wider as he melts into the kiss. After a lifetime, Mal pulls away.

“Rowan, want you….”

“I got you, Mal.”

Rowan kisses him once again before coaxing Mal to roll over onto his side, his ass pressed firmly against Rowan’s morning wood. With a little finagling, they work their briefs off in a tangle of limbs, Mal pressing back against Rowan and grinding his ass into Rowan’s hard cock. It sends a pulse of desire through Rowan, making him buck his hips forward.

As Rowan reaches over to the nightstand to get the lube, Mal hikes up one leg, spreading himself wide for Rowan. After squeezing lube onto his fingers, Rowan wastes no time in working Mal open. He’s still so slick and open from last night that it takes only minutes for him to get Mal panting and writhing in Rowan’s arms.

“C’mon…,” he whines.

“Always so impatient,” Rowan says and laughs, dipping forward to kiss Mal’s neck as he continues to finger him.

“Mmm, fuck….”

Rowan sucks a bruise on Mal’s neck as he pumps himself, spreading the lube on his cock. And as Rowan slides into him, he gasps and feels his abs tighten as Mal’s heat envelops him. Mal moans, a bright and beautiful sound in the quiet of the room. His head dips toward his chest, and Rowan takes the opportunity to kiss behind his ear as he pulls out and thrusts back inside.

“Oh fuck… feel so good, Mal….”

“Rowan, fuck me….”

A swoop of desire fills Rowan’s belly as he fucks into Mal in deep, slow thrusts. A breathy sigh greets every thrust as his hips press hard into Mal’s ass. Mal hikes his leg higher, gripping under his knee to open himself more to Rowan, allowing him to slip impossibly deeper inside.

They move together, hitches of hips and breath as Rowan slides in and out of Mal’s heat. He chases his pleasure, clutching on to Mal for dear life, as if he’ll vanish if Rowan doesn’t hold him tightly enough.

“Fuck! There…,” Mal moans.

Rowan obliges him, alternating grinding against his spot and pistoning into him, turning him into a moaning mess in his arms. It’s like his hips have a mind of their own as he fucks him, Mal clenching around him eagerly and with abandon. He’s sucking him in deeper, deeper, undoubtedly bruising his ass as he drops his leg and reaches back to pull Rowan closer.

The position is good—incredible, even—hitting deep and hard and letting Rowan feel Mal’s muscular back pressed firmly against his chest. But it’s been too long since he’s seen his face. Too long since he kissed his lips.

“Mal, turn over. Wanna see your face.”

Rowan pulls out and they swap positions, Mal on his back with Rowan nestled in between his legs.

He can’t look anywhere but Mal’s face as he slides back in, watching that perfect mouth part in pleasure. Fully seated, he dips down, catching Mal’s bottom lip between his own, tugging gently with his teeth.

He keeps the pace slow, drawing whimpers from Mal’s lips as he kisses him deep. And fuck, it’s all so perfect, so warm and filling and fulfilling that he can’t help the words that escape him.

“Fuck, I love you,” Rowan whispers against his lips, hips moving on their own as his body fills with emotion.

He hadn’t meant to say it, but weeks—hell, months —of keeping it to himself has felt like a lifetime.

Mal gasps, a sweet little hiccup of a sound that Rowan’s going to remember for the rest of his life. He pulls Rowan down for a kiss that’s mind-blowingly tender, and feels more than hears Mal whisper, “I love you too.”

Rowan shudders into the kiss, eyes squeezed tightly closed as his chest constricts and his breath leaves his lungs in a whoosh . He wants to breathe in the residual oxygen from Mal’s exhalations so he can say that a part of him has been inside every single one of his cells.

It doesn’t take much after that. A handful of hard, deep thrusts has Rowan’s belly coiling tight and Mal clenching around him, and with mutual gasps they come together, shuddering in each other’s arms. It’s easily the best orgasm Rowan’s ever had in his life, and if the keening moan that Mal lets out as he comes across his chest is any indication, the same can be said for him.

They lie together, silent and sated, softly stroking whatever part of the other’s skin they can reach. Planting kisses here and there, on shoulders and foreheads and lips and hands because they can now. Rowan can feel the warmth seeping out of every one of his pores.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Rowan sighs.

Mal hums, curling into Rowan and snuggling into his chest. The casual display of intimacy is almost more than Rowan’s heart can bear.

“Me too, Red.” He’s quiet for a moment, breath coming down into soft little puffs out his nose. “You ever think we’d end up here, back at the gangbang?”

Rowan laughs softly. “I wanted it. From the start. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mal agrees with a nod of his head against Rowan’s chest. “I know exactly what you mean.”

It feels like they’ve done this whole thing backward, to be honest. Started with impersonal sex and ended with love, or something a hell of a lot like it. Rowan’s never been in love before, but he can’t imagine it feels like anything but filling his entire being with Mal.

They don’t talk about what they are. Rowan, at least, doesn’t feel the need to label anything when what they have is still so new, so tender and raw.

But Rowan knows in his fucking soul that what they have is real. Solid and sure and so damn right that no matter what happens, they’re going to make it work. They’ve been through so much together the past few months that it feels like they can take on anything that comes their way. And they’ll do it with the other at their side.

In his wildest dreams, Rowan never would have thought that a routine call to save someone’s life would end up saving his life. Never thought that it would lead him here , in Mal’s bed and Mal’s arms. But he wouldn’t change a thing.