Endless, Forever (6 page)

Gabe’s hand was drawing lazy lines up and down his spine, and Oliver felt his eyes slipping closed as they rested there together.  “This is just as good, you know.  I just like being here with you.”

Oliver pressed himself against his boyfriend even harder.  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m grateful for it.”

Gabe chuckled low and gentle into the top of Oliver’s hair.  “Well I aim to keep you, Ollie, so brace yourself for it.”

Oliver laughed and pressed another kiss to the side of Gabe’s neck.  “I will.”

Chapter Seven

Morning came, and with it, warm arms and soft lips kissing along Oliver’s neck.  With a groan, he rolled over and shoved his hands up the back of Gabe’s shirt.  A hoarse, sleepy chuckle escaped Gabe’s lips as he continued to nip along Oliver’s collarbone which was barely visible under the neck of his shirt.

“Someone’s awake,” Oliver muttered.

“Mm, and someone else is waking up.”  Gabe pressed his hips against Oliver’s, rubbing against his morning erection.

“I might be.”  Oliver chuckled as he kissed the corner of Gabe’s mouth.  “My breath is disgusting though.”

“I’m alright with it,” Gabe whispered, then claimed Oliver’s mouth in a greedy, deep kiss.

It wasn’t as bad as Oliver thought it would be, the passion outweighing the sour taste in his mouth.  Before long they were rutting, his thigh between Gabe’s legs, knee pressing very gently upward.

“Want you,” Gabe whispered.

“God.  God,
yes
,” Oliver moaned in response.

Boldly, Gabe reached between their bodies and shoved his hand down the front of Oliver’s boxers, closing his thin fingers around Oliver’s swollen cock.  He began to stroke him, a light touch, increasing the pressure just a little on each upstroke.

“Uhg,
fuck
,” Oliver muttered, pressing his forehead against Gabe’s shoulder.  “You…should stop that,” he managed, “if you don’t want me to come before I’m inside you.”

Gabe let out a low moan, then rolled over toward the nightstand.  He opened the drawer, fumbling around and came out with a box of condoms that was ripped open along the front, and a small bottle of lube.

Oliver tried not to seem over eager as he took the box and lube from his boyfriend, but instead of immediately ripping into the package, he set it aside and hooked his fingers under the hem of Gabe’s boxers.  “May I?”

“Please,” Gabe whispered, needy and almost begging.

Oliver quickly pushed the offending material down toward Gabe’s ankles, and on his way up, removed his own.  They laughed, kicking the underpants away before pressing their legs back together.  Oliver’s cock twitched against Gabe’s thigh, and his hand moved down, pressing flat against Gabe’s lower stomach.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, yes you can,” Gabe said, and his voice trembled a little with the answer.

Oliver had experimented a handful of times before with both sexes at his school, so it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar territory, and it hadn’t been unpleasant in the least.  He carefully reached through Gabe’s soft curls, parting his folds, and the pad of his finger quickly found Gabe’s swollen clit.

He rubbed it gently, slow, circular motions which made his boyfriend gasp, dropping his head down hard against Oliver’s shoulder.  “Oh fuck, that’s good,” Gabe gasped.

Oliver chuckled, the sound low with want and desire as his fingers moved up and down, carefully circling around his entrance, dipping in just for a second to feel the walls clenching around him.  He pushed his fingers in and out, not going to deep, scissoring them just slightly, and Gabe hissed, thrusting his hips forward.

“Oh God, fuck me now, okay? 
Please
.”

“Anything you ask,” Oliver breathed, and kissed him long and slow as his hand reached behind him for the condom.  Without breaking the kiss, he managed to unwrap the rubber, sliding it over the tip of his dick, and rolled it down.  “You want lube?”

“Mm, yes.  The testosterone I take makes me a bit drier than normal.”

Oliver quickly poured a dollop of lube onto his fingers, stroking himself over the condom a few times, then carefully rolled over, propping himself between his boyfriend’s legs.  “Alright?”

“More than.”  Gabe arched his hips, letting Oliver’s cock line up with his hole, and then in a fluid motion, Oliver pushed in.

Gasping, he felt Gabe’s insides clenching around him, and he had to fist the sheets tight to keep himself under control.  He’d fucked before, plenty of times, and those times had been good.  But never had he wanted it so badly.  Never had he wanted his partner to enjoy every second, to draw it out, to
feel
something.

“Move,” Gabe whispered, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts.

Oliver looked down at the other man, watching him from under heavy, dark lashes, and he couldn’t help a slow smile creeping over his mouth.  “You are
so
gorgeous.”

Gabe shifted his hips, making Oliver moan, and then he started a rhythm around Oliver’s cock.  “You’re amazing,” Gabriel gasped.

“Yes.  Good,” Oliver moaned, thrusting harder as Gabe’s hands urged him on.  “Good. 
Fuck
.”

It was over fairly quickly.  Reaching between their bodies, Oliver rubbed his finger along Gabe’s clit once more, feeling his boyfriend tensing and cresting.  The quivering inside around him was just enough to throw Oliver over the edge, and with harsh, erratic thrusts, he was coming hard and fast.

His head bent down, the front of Gabe’s shirt muffling his moans as he buried his head between his boyfriend’s breasts.  He trembled a little with the aftershocks, then finally rolled off to the side, surprised at just how much he was sweating for sex that hadn’t lasted a full five minutes.

“Damn,” Gabe said, rolling over to brush a few stray locks from Oliver’s forehead.  “That was fucking good.”

Oliver laughed, his hands still quaking a bit as he reached down to pull off the condom and tie it off.  He threw it in the direction of the bin, a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t even look to see if he’d made it, but he was too boneless and sated to care.

Groaning, he threw one arm up over his head, twisting his face to the side to get a good look at his boyfriend.  Gabe had his head against the pillow, looking fuck-stupid and more gorgeous than ever.

“We’re going to do that again, right?” Oliver asked after a moment.

Laughing, Gabe reached out and curled one hand around the side of Oliver’s hip.  “I think so.  If I have anything to say about it.”

“Mm.  Good.”  He shifted over to press a few lazy kisses along Gabe’s jaw, then nuzzled against his cheek.  “How about breakfast, yeah?  I don’t think I have anything here, but I know a good café.”

“Fine,” Gabe said as he nuzzled back.  “But after that, we’re going food shopping.  If I’m going to stay here all weekend, there’s no way I’m eating out every meal.”

Oliver sighed.  “Alright, but you’re cooking, love.  Trust me, you don’t want me to even try.”

“Fair enough.  Though I don’t know how you survived this long without even the basics.”  Gabe stretched his arms above his head.  “Hand me my binder, will you?”

Oliver laughed, rolling off the bed to rummage around for his jeans.  He picked up the fallen condom and threw it in the bin properly before picking Gabe’s binder up off his pile of clothes, tossing it over.  “You underestimate how posh I grew up, love.  My mum was either drunk or hysterical, so if we didn’t have a cook, we would not have been fed.”

Gabe’s face fell, and Oliver’s gut twisted when he saw a look of pity.  He hated pity more than anything, but he knew if the situations were reversed, he probably would have felt the same way.  Taking a breath, he went to his closet to rummage around for a fresh shirt.

“What if I showed you some cooking basics, hmm?  Then you can practice and ply me with delicious home-cooked meals and bottles of wine?”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver spun toward the bed just as Gabe was securing his binder on.  “Is this your secret, subtle way of telling me you’re a high-maintenance boyfriend?  Posh dinners and breakfasts in bed?”

“Oh dear,” Gabe said, stepping onto the floor to find his jeans.  “He’s found me out.”

Oliver snorted, grabbing his shirt by the hem, and he pulled it off without realizing what he was doing.  In fact, he didn’t notice anything at all until he caught Gabe’s eyes fixated on his right arm and side of his torso.

Bile rose in his stomach and he spun, grabbing his fresh shirt and quickly pulled it over his head.  He cleared his throat, saying a silent prayer Gabe wouldn’t ask.

But his luck had never been any good.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he said sharply.  Grabbing the side of the closet, he clenched the door so hard his hands ached, hoping the pain would anchor him.  “If it’s all the same…”

“Just…what happened?  You know I’m not going to judge you.”

Rage and pain from his past eclipsed everything he felt, or might have felt, for the man standing beside his bed, erasing every moment they’d just experienced together.  Instead of understanding that Gabe simply cared, he was furious.  “How big of you.  How fucking
pragmatic
.  You’re not going to
judge
me.”  Oliver’s jaw was clenched so tight his head began to ache.  “You know what, I think I’m going to go for a walk.  And when I get back, you should be gone.  I don’t…this isn’t going to work out.”

Gabe called out a loud protest, but Oliver was running now.  He was only half aware of what he was doing, where he was going.  He felt the door slam as he left the house, and his feet were bare on the chilled pavement.  But he was going now, half-dressed, tears in his eyes, memories he’d locked away years ago threatening to break the surface.

This.  This was why he didn’t date.  This was why he didn’t get close to anyone.

He liked Gabe, and the thought of seeing that look on his face when he found out what happened, what Oliver had gone through…he couldn’t take it.  He couldn’t stomach it.  Not from anyone, but especially not Gabriel.

He felt like he’d run for miles, and when he finally stopped to look back, Gabe wasn’t there.  He hadn’t come after him.  He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or broken, but his chest was aching and he had to stop.  He collapsed against a garden wall surrounding a large house, and crooked one knee up to his chest.

Resting his head forward, he wondered how it could all go so badly wrong so fast.  He’d been falling for Gabe, in such a short time, but there was no turning back now.  He knew the other man wouldn’t understand—
couldn’t
understand.  No one did.  No one would be willing to accept why Oliver had done what he did.

He was destined to be alone.  This only served as a reminder of why he didn’t get close to people.  Because when you cared, when you wanted something, it hurt that much more when it was ripped away.

***

A tiny part of him hoped Gabe remained at the house.  That maybe he was someone who would fight Oliver to stay, but the front door was open and there was no sign of anyone anywhere.  With a resigned sigh, he slammed the door, turning to give the nearby arm chair a kick for good measure.

“Fucking
good
,” he muttered to himself, then rushed up the stairs, pulling his sheets from the bed and stuffed them into the wash.

It was for the best, he reminded himself.  When you were alone, you couldn’t get hurt.

Though, he wondered as he fixed himself tea and stared at his phone which hadn’t made a peep all morning, if alone avoided pain, why did he feel like this?

His brother texted late into the evening as Oliver sat in front of Netflix, a bag of chips open in his lap, though he hadn’t touched them.

What the fuck did you do?

Oliver sighed, staring at the screen, and decided not to answer.  He was making good on his promise to let Leo have his space, and he wasn’t going to bother his brother with his romance problems.  He would just wallow, trying to erase the lingering scent of Gabriel which clung to almost all of his things.  He tried to stop seeing him every time he closed his eyes, and stop feeling him every time his mind wandered back to that morning with warm hands, soft lips, and the most careful embrace.

Self-hatred was his home away from home, it seemed.

Sunday came around, and with the afternoon came the return of Leo, who was scowling as he dropped his bag by the front door.  Oliver, who still hadn’t moved from the couch, rolled his head to the side and let out the tiniest sigh of relief that Leo looked not only fine, but well-rested.

“So, how’d you fuck this one up?” he demanded, sinking into the chair near the couch.

Oliver rolled his eyes, then his head away from his brother.  “No idea what you’re on about.”

“You’re such a fuckwit, Oliver.  The
one
good thing that happens to you, and you turn into a transphobic arse.”

Oliver was immediately up straight, his eyes wide.  “What?  I’m not transphobic!”

“Really?  So you fuck a trans man, then run out on him immediately after?”  Leo’s eyes narrowed at his brother.  “He told me what happened.”

Feeling a fresh wave of panic rippling from his gut, Oliver threw his hands over his face.  “Fuck.  Is
that
what he thinks happened?”

“According to him that
is
what happened.  He said you fucked, then out of nowhere you just shouted at him to get out.”