You Are the Reason (34 page)

And hell yes, he knew what he was doing, because his hand came up and cupped his butt cheeks, rotating them in small circles until they were parted to my avid gaze.

My lungs were screaming for air, and I gasped frantically. I couldn’t die yet. I needed to get inside Lee’s body, or it would haunt me for eternity. Joe Cocker was finishing up his song, so Lee kicked aside the heels and turned to face me, cupping his balls from below and rubbing his chest with his other hand.

The song ended, and there was a pause. Suddenly the next song started. Within three beats, I’d recognized it as Ginuwine’s “Pony
.
” I couldn’t think of a song with a more sexual beat to it. With each beat, Lee deliberately stepped forward, closer to the bed. Closer to me. I knew what he was about to do.

Pony.

Hell. I was about to be ridden.

“Shit. Condom.” The words were muttered by my mouth, but I didn’t feel them. I was rolling, reaching, scrambling for my bedside drawer, where I could find a condom and lube. I found the required items and rolled back to find Lee had reached the end of the bed. With each beat of the song, he was advancing on me, one knee on the bed, then the next, a look of sexy intent on his face.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

I hurried to be ready in time. I tore at the packet, pulled out the sheath, and rolled it down my length in seconds. Then I was stretching desperately for the lube. Lee had reached my feet and was making his way up my legs, his knees spread wide and pressing forward to his goal.

The singer had made it to the chorus.

I squeezed the clear gel onto my hand and, with shaking fingers, I spread the lube over the condom. Lee’s knee brushed my hip as he crawled up over my body. He was mouthing the words.

It was clear my pony was about to be ridden, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head at the thought.

Then he was moving into position, taking my cock, and lining it up with his entrance. The song continued, and I braced as Lee slid down my shaft until he was fully seated in the saddle.

“God, I love you, Lee.”

The words burst forth. I’d been holding on to them for so long, ever since that episode with Cynthia, but they escaped now. I didn’t know why I was refraining from committing myself completely. I think, in the back of my mind, I was still nervous that I would fail that last hurdle. That “I like to dress in women’s clothing sometimes” hurdle.

But that night I had cleared it. It was a personal best for me. A new record. A new height.

I was flying.

“You don’t realize how much I love you, Lee,” I gasped out as he undulated up and down my length. Perhaps I could’ve been more romantic about the declaration and said it over wine with dinner, or in front of a large audience so everyone would know. But I was Davo, and Lee was Lee. And we were having some fantastic sex, and the
L
word was the icing on the cake.

Lee rocked back and forth on my cock, still keeping the rhythm of the song.

“Lee?” I questioned urgently. He was continuing the slow beat of the song, and in the back of my mind, I hoped the next song was a disco beat so we could break free. But now I was concerned. I’d told him twice, and he hadn’t answered. Did he love me?

His body ground into mine in a particularly mind-blowing way, and I nearly lost my train of thought. Nearly. But no, the topic was too important. I was hanging in the wind with this one. Had I given my heart too easily? Was it about to explode in my face?

“Lee?” I burst out. “Do you love me?”

He reached down and kissed me, hard and with a lot of pressure, just the way he liked it. I allowed my hands to roam his chest, loving his body as my heart loved his soul. We kissed as he fucked himself on me, both of us adoring the sensation as the next song on his playlist started. I didn’t recognize the tune, but its rhythm was animalistic and primal.

We rocked together faster, both reaching for our peak. I climbed and fought furiously with him to control the speed of our mating. The next song started. Once again its beat was earthy, but I was beyond caring. I pushed Lee off me, and he scrambled to the position we both knew would get us off quickly. He buried his face in the pillows as I moved in behind him and buried my dick in his arse.

“Oh.” His moan was one of exultation. Of relief. Of homecoming.

I pushed in further and began to pump at a frantic rate. This was no time for finesse. This was no time for slow and gentle. This was about coming. This was about joining. This was about loving—hard and furiously.

“Yes.”

I knew that response. After making love to this man for months, I knew his cues. He was about to come and he needed me to provide that last push over the cliff. I bowed my body over his and planted my face in the curve of his neck while I reached around his hips and grasped his cock. I licked and sucked at the sensitive skin on his collarbone and throat as he jumped and flew along on that climax that we often experienced together.

His climax triggered my own, and as his body clenched around mine, I leaped after him, floating in mid-air for a fraction of a second before my balls exploded, filling Lee’s body with my excitement.

“I love you. Love you,” I cried against his neck as I jerked uncontrollably within him. He pushed back, as if he were trying to crawl inside me. I knew the feeling. For that instant, we were one.

I fell to the side, my arms still wrapped around him so he was pulled with me, our bodies still joined, our hearts still flying.

I panted, trying to regain my equilibrium. It took a while. Lee had knocked me for a six.

Eventually we had to move. I reluctantly withdrew from him and left the bed to get rid of the condom. With our passion cooling, I realized he’d not answered my question. Did he love me? His mum seemed to think he did, but mothers didn’t know everything. I grabbed a towel, threw it next to him on the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom. There, in the harsh light, I disposed of my rubbish and grabbed a cloth to mop up the last of my fluid.

If he loved me, he would’ve said, wouldn’t he?

I snatched my toothbrush out of the cup on the bench and began my nightly routine. The fact that he didn’t say it back didn’t mean that he couldn’t come to love me some time in the future, right? And did he
have
to love me? Would “really, really, really like me” be enough?

I looked at myself critically in the mirror. I wasn’t a great catch. I was just me. Just Dave. And I could survive the pain if Lee couldn’t say the
L
word back.

I lingered in front of the mirror until I was sure my face wasn’t showing all my emotions. I couldn’t go out there and look at him with a hangdog expression. That would be humiliating. Not self-conscious about my nudity, I reentered the bedroom and found Lee sitting on the edge of the bed, rolling Mr. Magic 8 Ball back and forth between his palms. His face was inscrutable. I hoped mine was too.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

I dredged up a smile. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I walked to the drawers and pulled open the one that held my boxer shorts. I pulled out a cotton pair for me but dug deeper for the satin pair that Lee preferred—the pair he’d claimed for his own. I tossed the boxers to him, stepped into my pair, and pulled them up.

“Dave?”

“Yeah?” I asked without looking at him. “Do you need to do your teeth?”

I could feel the indecision coming off him in waves. So I told him I needed to check the locks on the front door and almost ran out of the room. He was brushing his teeth when I returned, so I restored the bed to its usual neatness and climbed in.

He stopped at his side of the bed and looked down at me.

“What?” I asked, hoping that he wouldn’t answer. But what he did do surprised me. He leaned over and picked up Mr. Magic 8 Ball.

“Dave knows that I love him with all my heart and all my soul, doesn’t he?” Not looking at me he turned the orb over. He read out the answer. “Signs point to yes.” He smiled. “Phew. Here I was thinking that you were angry with me because you thought I didn’t love you back.”

He put the oracle down on the bedside cabinet while I lay there, stunned. He loved me?

Lee was scooting over to me for a cuddle when I almost leapt from the bed.

“What is it? Dave?” he sounded concerned as I stalked around the bed, snatched up Mr. Magic 8 Ball, and left the room. Thirty seconds later I was back in the bed and hauling Lee’s body to me. “What was that all about?” he queried.

“I threw it out. It was broken.”

“It was?” he said, coming up on one elbow to look at me.

“Yes. It gave the wrong answer,” I declared.

“When?”

“Just then.”

He stopped. “When it said—?” He sat up abruptly. “Hang on. You mean you
didn’t
know that I loved you?”

There was a foreign heat in my stomach. It was smugness mixed with hope, joy, happiness, lust, love, and a growing sense of elation. Lee loved me.

“How was I meant to know that you loved me?” I asked quite reasonably, given my present euphoria.

“Because… you… oh… but, didn’t you just know? Didn’t you feel how we were meant for each other? Didn’t all the pieces of your life just click into place when we’re together? Doesn’t it feel strange when we’re apart?”

He was delightful. “Of course. But I’m still not a mind reader. I need to be told things.”

“You do? Oh. Whoops. Sorry.”

He leaned over and kissed me. His voice was a whisper as he said, “Dave? I think I fell in love with you when you had to ask me if I was pregnant in the bar. I know I was heartbroken when I thought you hated me, after I told you I was actually a guy. I know I rushed to your side when you rang me in a mad panic, over a shitty nappy of all things, needing to help you, because I can’t say no to you. I know my soul wept for you when you told me that you didn’t want to be one of
those
gays, and I realized the depth of the wrong that had been done to you. I know I was never more proud of you than when you came with me to the Drop-In that first time and faced your fears. I know I have never felt more right than when you’re making love to me. I’ve been patient but impatient at the same time, while you’ve worked through some pretty big deals in your life recently. But there has never been a moment, through all of it, that every beat of my heart hasn’t been yours. I’m yours. My heart’s yours. We love you.”

He kissed me again, and I hugged him to me, scared and triumphant at the same time.

He was mine. He was mine to love and cherish, and that was a goddamn big responsibility. Loving him was something I never wanted to fail at, because there had never been anyone more special in my life.

We kissed. Hard and soft. Slow and frantic. Wet and dry. And in between kisses, I murmured, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

And do you know what? I think I noticed every last little thing about him.

W
HEN
I
was eleven years old, I worked out what it was to be gay.

When I was twenty-seven, I understood that being gay was a matter of mechanics. But being Davo meant doing what I felt was right. To me.

So, when I spent weeks searching for the perfect present to give to my goddaughter on her first birthday, I didn’t care who thought what of me. I didn’t listen to Lee tell me that it didn’t matter what color it was, that Maxine was only one and wouldn’t know. I didn’t listen to Jake when he told me that I should’ve waited a few more years for her to appreciate it more. I didn’t listen to Patrick when he said, “Who the hell is Minty and Applejack?”

I stretched out on the floor rug with my favorite girl and let her climb all over me while I explained that Minty was my all-time favorite My Little Pony, and that I thought she looked the best in her pretty yellow pony shoes and matching pony saddle. Then I retied the pink ribbon in Applejack’s hair and didn’t once wince when Miss Maxine shoved the whole of Minty’s head into her slobbering mouth.

I knew she was just showing me that Minty was her favorite pony too.

“Da, da, da, da,” she chanted as she waved the green toy.

“Ahh, Davo?” Jake asked me in a tone of voice that I recognized as his “I’m about to upset Davo so I need to take this slow” tone.

I glared at him and ignored Maxine’s squeal of “Daddee!” It was the same tone of voice he’d used when he had to tell me the pretty butterfly earrings I’d bought her wouldn’t be used for a couple of years because they didn’t plan on getting her ears pierced for a while, and when he’d told me the stuffed pink sheep I bought for her had made her scream in fright.

“What?”

“Davo, I’m sure Maxine loves your present, and she obviously adores the pony, but I’m going to have to take the accessories off her, mate.” He stuck a finger into Maxine’s mouth and removed Applejack’s pink shoe. “They’re too little, and she could choke.”

I watched with sadness as he picked up the shoes, combs, ribbons, and saddles, leaving just the two ponies for Maxine to play with. She bashed me over the head with the toy, as if to say, “What an idiot.”