Fin & Matt (13 page)

“Wow,” I responded genuinely.  “It’s fucking huge.”

“I know.”

I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek, rubbing between his legs.  “Speaking of huge,” I teased.  “On second thought, you shouldn’t shave tomorrow.  You look ridiculously hot.”  In a bold, unconventional manner, I whispered in his ear, “I love to feel it scratch between my legs when you fuck me with your tongue.”

“It that right?” he murmured, turning onto our exit.  “In a few minutes, we can test that observation.”

Matt’s right hand drifted between my legs as he maneuvered the steering wheel with the other.  He rubbed over the material of my jeans as I bucked into his palm.  “God, I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”

“I can see that.”  He squeezed me gently one last time before putting the car in park for the valet.  “Think you can wait?”

♂♂

“Oh, fuck!”

As promised, within minutes, our bags were on the floor in a pile, my clothes were nowhere to be found, and Matt’s tongue was buried between my legs.  My hips elevated off of the mattress as he licked emphatically over my responsive opening.  I closed my eyes tightly as Matt delved deeper, releasing a hearty moan from my throat.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I murmured, afraid that one more push from that muscle would send me over the edge prematurely.  “I want… I want to do it to you.”

I had done many things with my tongue since meeting Matt, but I had yet to put it near the holiest of holy holes.  However, I was desperate to give him a taste of the pleasure he had given me practically every time we were together.

“Are you sure?” he breathed, lifting up to brush kisses on the insides of my thighs.

I scrambled to my knees and tugged at the button of his jeans.  “Can you help?”

He tugged them off quickly, along with his briefs and socks, tossing them over the side of the bed.

“Take off your shirt,” I instructed.  He pulled his t-shirt off of his muscled chest seductively, moving slowly before laying back onto a pile of pillows.  “Turn over… on your stomach.” 

His cock was rigid and tight as he turned, pressing it into the mattress.  I took my time, massaging the backs of his thighs before peppering kisses along his rounded ass.

I paused, taking a deep breath before gently spreading his legs wider to take one easy lick.  Matt responded immediately, gripping the sheets and letting out a deep, sexy “oh.”  His hips rose an inch before relaxing back into the soft, feather-filled duvet.  I tried to think of my own triggers – what set me off – before licking him a second time.

The saliva pooled on my tongue as I worked him over and over, taking short breaths often while gently spreading his cheeks with my palms.  Besides the obvious difference in location, it wasn’t that much of a contrast from any other of Matt’s body parts I’d kissed.  He smelled clean, like the simple bar soap he used mixed with a hint of salt.  Using the tip of my tongue, I flicked it just below his convulsing hole, grazing his perineum as he wriggled against the bed.  My finger moved over the sensitive spot, gently pushing inside of his body as he arched his back with a moan.  “Fuck… oh fuck.  Stop, Fin.  I can’t…”

“Relax.”  I used the same words he used on me whenever I started to lose control.  “Let me do this.”

“No, I mean you have to stop because I’m too close,” he pleaded.  “The bed…”

I read his thoughts, carefully turning him over as not to soil the sheets fifteen minutes after we’d arrived.  Lowering my lips to his pulsating cock, I worked my mouth down his shaft, moaning enthusiastically while carefully thrusting my finger in and out of his snug entrance.

His indecipherable choked-out warning came one second too late as his hot release filled my throat, forcing me to swallow immediately.  Another burst followed almost instantaneously as Matt’s hips rose off of the mattress.  “Fuck… baby,” he panted.  A wide grin plastered over his lips as he reached for me.  “Come here.”

We kissed lazily, my hand still grazing over his sensitive sac.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, biting my lip in post-carnal lust.

“They should make a card for that.  ‘Thank you, my love, for licking my ass and swallowing my cum.’”

He let out a soft laugh.  “It’d be a best-seller.”

“We could just give it back and forth to each other.”  I stroked his chest and looked up at him.  “You still nervous about tomorrow?”

“Less now than before, but yeah.”

“You think your dad will come around?  You know, before the wedding?” I asked.

“No,” he responded immediately.  “You know that stuff he said… about you being my ‘faggot’ boyfriend?  He means that.  He’s always used that word and wouldn’t be caught dead at some
faggot
wedding, even if that faggot was his son.”

“Hey, don’t.  We don’t need him there.  I just wondered.”  I kissed his chest gently before moving up to his neck.  “Guess that means your brother is out.”

“Your family will be there… my mom.  Maybe we could invite Emily.”

“She won’t have the money and won’t accept mine.  It’s always been that way with us,” I answered.

“It’s good, in a way.  You know she loves you and not your checkbook, you know?”

I nodded.  “I know.  But just once, I would have liked to have gone on a Spring Break with my best friend.  I never got to do that because of her stupid pride.”

He traced over the planes of my back, pulling me closer into his chest.  “We need to sleep, baby.  I have to meet Nate at nine and I want to get in a run.”

I snuggled close.  “God, you smell good,” I murmured.  “Sure you don’t want to go for round two?”

He laughed and turned to cover my body with his, showing signs of a new, budding erection.  “I’m sure I could be persuaded.”

M
att was gone by the time I woke.  It was empty in the large bed; I found myself wondering how I suddenly had become so attached to sleeping in the same space.  It was cold without Matt’s body wrapped around mine.

When I wandered into the bathroom, the scent of my cologne lingered.  He had his own, but had been wearing mine more and more as the days passed.  I showered, taking my time under the hot water.

Once dressed, I checked my schedule and made off for my first open house.

We weren’t exactly serious about buying real estate, but I thought I should see what was out there in case he actually was offered the job.  I was done with an apartment.  It was fine for me as a single man but, with Matt there, we were quickly outgrowing the small space.

Chris Fenton was my for-the-day agent, dedicated to showing me every property in the downtown area that I desired.  Once he was informed of our budget, he quickly changed half of the listings, starting with a condo listed at a cool three-point-seven million.

He oozed confidence, seeming unaffected by the extravagance around him.

“Urban living… modern kitchen, complete redo.  Most sought after neighborhood in the city,” he boasted.

“Chris, our goal is to find a place we feel comfortable with, but… I don’t feel comfortable here.  It’s too… cold.”

I looked around at the marble floors, envisioning always having to wear socks.  Everything was stark white and silver – nothing had Matt’s mark on it.

“I’ve got one on Mass.  Five bedrooms, six-and-a-half baths.”

“I… I don’t think so.  It’s just two of us,” I responded.

“You and your—” he inquired with a pause, waiting for my answer.

“Fiancé.  He’s interviewing for a job here.”

“Yeah?  Where are you guys from?”

“St. Louis.”

Chris shuffled the paperwork on the counter.  “I’ve got a sister there.  What part?”

“Lafayette Square.”

He shrugged.  “I can’t remember the name of her neighborhood.  Want to go check out the next place?”  He pulled up the next property on his iPad.  “It’s a little smaller.  Three bedrooms, four baths.”

“Okay, that sounds a little better.”

“A little over five-thousand square feet.”

I winced.  “Okay, let’s talk for a second.  Matt’s gonna hate this.  He’s a simple man.  He likes wood and soft leather.  He likes to cook and read… take long naps and watch football.  He’s not a marble column and granite tub guy, you know?”

“Sure you want to live downtown then?  There are lots of other places you might like more.”

“I wanted to look downtown because of his job.  If he gets it, he’ll be based in this area.  But we could drive a bit, if it wasn’t too far.”

“I’ve got a listing at 55
th
and Delaware that sounds more like your style.  Exposed brick, dark wood floors… it’s a Tudor.  It’s got a nice pool and a new patio.  Mature trees… fireplace in the bedroom.  A chef’s kitchen with all new Viking appliances.  Hot tub, wet bar.  You want to see it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s a lot less than what they’re asking around here.  Six eighty-nine.”

It was still expensive.  How Chris never batted an eye over the cost baffled me.  But, a pool did sound nice and at least he was trying.

When we arrived, I knew.  From the manicured lawn to the dark brick surrounding a fire-engine red door, Matt would love it.  The landscaping was immaculate, a curved lawn only interrupted by a beautiful rock garden.  I hardly needed to see the inside, if the outside was any indication of the homeowners’ taste.

Inside, the ceilings were high with carved wood beams running through the center.  The worn floors were a testament of someone who had loved that house unconditionally… and the windows – my God – the windows.  They were everywhere, letting light shine in from every angle.  I walked up to one of many, peering out into a gorgeous wooded back lot, showcasing a comfortable seating area and a crystal-blue pool.

“It’s got new geothermal heat.  Sun room,” Chris said, reading off of his list of amenities.

I walked past him and into the master suite.  The same hardwood flooring was laid throughout the house, leading up to a set of French doors which opened onto the expansive courtyard strung with clear glass bulbs.  The distressed, chic furniture seemed at home in this place, making me second guess my contemporary furniture at home.

“And the furniture?  If we wanted it, could we negotiate?”

“I could ask.  You like this stuff?”

“I like all of it.”  I turned slowly, making my way into the kitchen.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… that kitchen. 

Brick walls, butcher-block counters, stainless appliances, whitewashed cabinets, distressed shelving units housing every cookbook ever written.  Pots and pans dangling from every surface, begging to be used.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, bringing me back to reality.  I held up a finger to Chris and made back into the bedroom for privacy.

“Babe?  How’d it go?”

“They want me.  They want me to start next week, Fin.”

I took a deep breath. 
Next week?
 

“Um, next week?  Wow…” I responded, trying to sound upbeat.  “That’s amazing.”

“I told them… about us.  About you.”

“About me?” I questioned.

“About you, yes… specifically.  Please tell me you’ll come to dinner tonight.  I know you’re hesitant, but they didn’t even blink.”

“Can we talk about this later?  I’m in the middle of our future bedroom.”  I sunk down onto the beautiful bed and stared out of the massive window.

“Yeah?  I can’t wait to see it.”  His voice dropped lower.  “I can’t wait to see you.  Meet me at the hotel no later than five.”

“Okay.  I’m proud of you, Matt.”

“I love you so much.”

“Love you more.”

I walked back into the kitchen where Chris clumsily tapped on his tablet. 

“Matt got the job,” I beamed.  “I know you probably don’t work on Sunday, but can you make an exception and come back tomorrow?”

♂♂

“Mom?”

“Funny bunny!  How’s the trip so far?  Did they love him?” she asked.

“Yeah, they did, actually.  He got the job.”

The line went quiet for a few seconds.  “Are you going with him?”

I sighed.  “Yes, Mom.  You know that.”

“I just got you back.”  Her voice was a near whimper as I heard the sound of her lighter click.

“Are you smoking?” I asked.

“When are you leaving?”

“This all happened today.  In fact, he’s not even back yet.  He had some paperwork to wrap up.  We’re supposed to go to dinner with the recruiter.  I think he leaves at the end of the week.  I have a little more time, I think.  We still have to pack the apartment.”

“Do you want help?”  She sniffled quietly.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” she protested. 

“Mom, just think of this like college.  You did fine.  I saw you on holidays and breaks… it’ll be the same.”

“I was never fine,” she responded, a distinct crack in her voice.  “I missed you terribly.”

“I was a lot farther before than I will be now.  You and Dad can come on the weekends whenever you want.  I saw a great house today.  You would love it.”

“Yeah?”  Another sniffle.  “Are you gonna buy it?”

“Matt needs to see it first.  He may hate it.”

“He won’t.  I’m sure you had him in mind when you chose it.  You are unselfish and likely chose something he would like over what you would.”

“Actually,” I replied, “I love it.  If he doesn’t, I’ll be heartbroken.”

“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.

“Petrified.  This is a big deal, you know?”

“You’re still young.  I know it’s been fun… and I love Matt – you know that – but are you ready?”

The door cracked open and Matt came through with a wide smile, holding up a new box of condoms.  “Score one for the hotel convenience store.”  Once he noticed I was on the phone, he winced and mouthed,
I’m sorry
.

“Yeah, Mom.  I’m ready.”

♂♂

I dug through the closet, shifting the five hangers back and forth as if something new would appear.  “I have nothing to wear to this thing.”

“I like
these
,” Matt replied, snapping the band of my red briefs.

“I bought them because I read somewhere that red makes you feel energized and unstoppable, but now I know that to be utter bullshit because, right now, I just want to curl up on that bed and eat ice cream.”

“Wear the gray pants, babe.  It’s not a big deal.  It’s casual.  No one expects you in a suit.”

I pulled a Burberry gray-and-black striped merino sweater over my black undershirt, smoothing it over a pair of gray wool pants.  They were a snug fit, as was the sweater, but there was nothing to be done.  We were meeting Nate in less than an hour and I would be there in all of my gay, fashionable glory.  At least my hair was cooperating, the long, wavy strands falling in a careless manner around my face.

“You owe me,” I grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed while zipping my Alexander McQueen three-buckle boots with shaky hands.

“You look beautiful,” Matt whispered.  He sat behind me, kissing the back of my neck and subtly inhaling my fragrance.  “And you smell so fucking sexy.  Don’t be nervous.”

“Matt, you were supposed to go to this thing alone.  Why do I have to go?”

“Because I don’t want you to eat alone in this hotel room, Fin.  I want you to be with me.  This is a great opportunity – a great fucking job – and I want you to share my excitement.”

He had a point.  I was looking at it all wrong.  This was about
Matt
. 

“Okay, you’re right.  By the way, Chris said he can show us that house tomorrow if you want.”

“Baby,” he murmured, his hand drifting over my zipper, “I’ll go see whatever you want.  Did you love it?”

I swatted his hand away playfully.  “I did.  God, what are we going to do about this whole thing?  They want you here next week, which means we have to literally buy a house, put in our notices, pack everything we own and move in seven days.  And my mother’s a wreck, by the way.”

“Your mom will be fine.  Listen, it’s all contingent on where we choose to live, right?  If we like this house, we’ll find out how long it will take to close.  When that happens, we’ll make a move.  We’ll put in our notices at work, but in the meantime, you can pack and get us ready to move.  I’ll be here, but I can stay in a short-term apartment.  Nate said he can help.”

“Nate?”  My green-eyed monster was rearing its ugly head.  “Why would
he
help you find a place?”

“It’s just temporary housing, honey.  Not a place to live permanently.  I thought that’s what we were doing together.”

“We are, I guess,” I mumbled. 

I was feeling sorry for myself; it was not becoming.  This was an astonishing opportunity for the love of my life and – here I was – thinking about how inconvenient it would be to uproot my life.  Leave my parents, find a new place, and abandon a job I loved.

My parents would still love me, it would be easy to find a house, and I could live without a job for as long as I needed.

“Tell me about the house.”  Matt wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tightly.

I smiled and let out a long sigh.  “You’ll see it tomorrow.  Let’s go; we don’t want to keep Nate waiting.”

♂♂

“Nate Curtis, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Fin MacAuliffe.”

Nate was exactly as I had pictured.  Sporty, tan, big.  Like fucking seam-ripping
huge
.

When he stood and extended his hand, I noticed the (not-so-subtle) subtleties between our two sizes, his thick fingers nearly crushing mine in his grip.

“Great to meet you, Fin.”  His voice matched his body, thick and gruff.  “We’re excited to have Matt with the organization.  Sit, please.”

Matt held my chair out for me as a blush crept up my cheeks.  I knew he was trying to be chivalrous, but I immediately felt like the woman.  The vulnerable companion.  The helpless bride. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, lowering into the seat.  Turning back to Nate, I finished with, “We’re happy to be here.  Indianapolis seems really great.”

He smiled widely.  “I work for the league, not the Colts specifically.  My job is to travel around – find the right fit for each position.  I’m based just outside of San Francisco.”

“49ers,” I blurted.  I’d studied all of the football teams since Matt had been approached, including stats and specifics about each city in the NFL.

“That’s right.”  He shrugged his shoulders and lowered his voice.  “I’m a Dallas man at heart though.  From Texas originally.  My wife is a former cheerleader for the Cowboys.”