Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (20 page)

“I’ll have to give him a good bit of attention in the morning. Get to know him properly. It’s only polite, after all.”

Perry shook his head and smiled. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Only when I sleep.” In fact, the pressure of Perry’s dick against his hole was making it tough to speak, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Then I’d better make sure I wear you out, hadn’t I?”

“You’re welcome to try-yy.” Mas’s last word elongated on a gasp of pain as Perry pushed inside him, but Perry kept on going, and Mas ground his head back into the mattress, breathing hard. “Fuck!” That was intense, but he loved it when a man forced his way in, beating that initial resistance.

He didn’t want to be treated like some precious flower.

So it was good that Perry fucked him like a man drowning in lust. Desperate kisses to Mas’s neck, sharp, jabbing thrusts that shook his entire body. Banged his head against the wall. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it behind him in an attempt to save himself from concussion.

Perry changed his angle then, shoving Mas’s knees up to his ears and looming over him. Watching his every reaction as he nailed his gland repeatedly. Mas moaned, reaching for his cock. Not long now.

“No. Not yet.” Perry shifted his weight again, pinning down Mas’s arms with his hands and bending him in half when he leaned down to kiss him. “Want it to last a bit longer.”

Sweat dripped down off Perry’s nose and landed on Mas’s face. He was trembling and probably wouldn’t last much longer himself.

Mas rippled his muscles around Perry’s cock, urging him on.

“Bloody hell! Do that again.”

Mas obliged. “You’ll get even more of that when I come, so you might as well let me get myself off.”

“Nuh-uh. I want to be the one who makes you. Just like this.” Perry began thrusting again, slow yet deep, with a bruising grind when he bottomed out. It went on forever. Almost too much to bear, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Couldn’t be. Mas never came without something on his dick. But then Perry leaned down to kiss him again and the pressure of his belly, all scratchy with hair, was just right.

“OhfuckohGodohfuckingfuck.” Mas’s entire being tried to splurt itself out through his cock in a blissful suicide attempt. The spasms were so powerful he’d have shaken his way right off the bed if Perry hadn’t been pinning him down.

“So good. Oh God, I can feel you coming.”

Mas’s body clamped down around Perry’s cock, the girth stretching him to his limits. He was still shooting spunk, turning the space between their bodies all slippery and slidey.

Perry kissed him, urgent, openmouthed, like Mas was something vital like oxygen. He pulled back and went onto his knees, pulling Mas up onto his lap and thrusting hard and fast.

Mas watched Perry’s face, transfixed. Must have been his postorgasmic haze, but right then he’d have sworn Perry was the most attractive man he’d ever set eyes on. Even with Perry’s face all slack as his body froze and jerked, his cock pulsing inside him. It was beautiful. It was worth the stinging pain of being fucked hard past his own climax.

He couldn’t watch forever, though. Eventually Perry collapsed and slid out of him. Mas stifled a hiss and buried his face in Perry’s neck.

“Fuck.” That was all he could manage to say, but it did double duty as an honest expression of how he felt and a quick recap of what they’d just done. Not that Perry hadn’t been paying attention or anything. “Fucking bloody fuck.” There. Three words.

Perry mumbled something in response. They lay there awhile, bodies heaving, cooling off, until Mas felt the excess lube begin to ooze out of him.

“Think I’m gonna need a shower.” Mas wriggled, but Perry just grunted. Felt like he was falling asleep. “Oi. Shift your arse, then. You don’t want your bedsheets all stained, do you?”

“Mmmm?” Perry looked like he couldn’t have cared less. His hair was rumpled and sweat soaked, and all the tension in his face had been smoothed away. He could have passed for a teenager.

He looked fucking gorgeous.

Mas reached out and stroked his cheek. “You look like you need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm. Didn’t sleep much last night. Kept thinking about you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You’re incredible.”

Mas wished he could trust what a man said right after an orgasm, but he’d wanted to believe it so many times and been proved wrong. They never felt that way in the pale light of morning. So he just patted Perry on the cheek, tried to smile and dragged himself up out of bed, heading over to the small bathroom.

By the time Mas got back, Perry was fast asleep. Mas stood by the bed, wavering. The sensible thing to do would be to head downstairs. Perry might well freak when he woke up to find a man in his bed, and then Mas would be out of both a job and a home—even if both were just stopgap measures.

But he didn’t want to head downstairs to a cold, lonely camp bed. He wanted to take his chances and grab every bit of time with Perry he could get.

Mas tucked himself in next to Perry, taking care not to press too much up against him but keeping one hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall. It was soothing, and eventually the troubled thoughts gave way to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The scuffling and cooing of the pigeons on the roof woke Perry at dawn, as they did every day. But something was different about this morning, and it wasn’t simply that he’d forgotten to put his water glass on his bedside table the night before. It took him a moment to figure out what it was, as the memories came streaming back in a jumble of images and emotions. Yesterday’s confusion, seeing Mas in that suit, going out for dinner with him, coming back home again afterwards…

Oh.

As his awareness of the room around him widened, he could pick out the soft, slow breathing and the unfamiliar heat of another body under the duvet.

Perry turned carefully, not wanting to deal with an awake Mas just yet. Not until he’d figured out what he was going to say. What was the correct thing to say, under the circumstances? In all his twenty-five years, he hadn’t ever had to deal with a situation like this one before.

Mas was lying on his back, one hand up above his head, curled on the pillow with his palm exposed. It was the pose of someone without a care in the world, and a far cry from Perry’s usual foetal ball. He examined Mas’s face, looking for some kind of clue as to what to do next.

All his study gave him was the conviction that Mas was beautiful. Possibly even more beautiful than the most alluring woman Perry could imagine. He was angelic in sleep, all that teasing glint hidden away behind his eyelids. Eyelids Perry was suddenly filled with the urge to kiss.

Mas’s eyes flickered open, as if they’d heard Perry’s thoughts. He turned his head and smiled sleepily in Perry’s direction. “Mornin’.”

“I think I’m gay.”

Oh. What a great way to reply to Mas’s greeting. Perry fought down the urge to apologise, though, because he was damned if he was going to see it as something he had to feel guilty about. He already had plenty of stuff to angst over. He really didn’t need to add anything else to the list.

“Mmm. I think you’re probably gay too, or bi at the very least, but you’re welcome to test that theory out some more on me.” And there was the tease, back again.

“It doesn’t need testing. Not like that.”

“You sure? I’m feeling pretty horny right now.”

“I need to come out.”

“Oh.” Mas blinked some of the sleepiness out of his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow. “There’s no rush, you know. You do it in your own time, once you get used to the idea. And you don’t have to do it all at once either. A lot of bi guys never bother coming out at all. Not if they’re involved with women, anyway.”

“I need to be honest about who I am. But it’s scary. The idea of telling people and not knowing how they’ll react.”

“It’s not like it’s anyone else’s business who you choose to sleep with. Fuck ’em, I say. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to.” Mas sounded almost ferocious, making Perry wonder what had happened to make him feel that strongly.

“I feel like I shouldn’t hide this. It’s too important.”

Mas frowned, but he reached out and laid his hand on Perry’s chest. The touch was reassuring enough for him to dare another question.

“How did you come out?”

“I kind of never really needed to.” Mas chuckled, and his speech took on that sing-song quality it often had. “Believe it or not, my lover, most people figure it out within about two seconds of me opening my mouth. Some of them even before that. Babe, I’m just that little bit too swishy to pass for straight.”

“Were you always like that? Even as a child? Did your mother know?”

Mas rolled away to stare back at the ceiling. This time his voice was level, without the affectation. “I was always a bit different. Liked playing with the girls more than the boys. For years I had it my head I wanted to be a ballerina. Not a male ballet dancer like that Billy Elliot kid, but a ballerina in a pink tutu. Used to dress up in my friend’s gear whenever I had a chance. So yeah, I think Mum knew, even if she wouldn’t admit it.”

“What about the kids at school?”

That earned him a grimace. “How about we talk about something more pleasant, like having root canal work?”

“It was that bad?”

“Worse. But hey, I survived, and these days, I can wear as much sparkly makeup as I want.”

“Do you really do that?”

Mas turned back to look at him. “Now and again. For Pride, or if it’s one of those kinds of parties. Why? Having second thoughts about me now you know I sometimes get dragged up?” Mas’s voice had the musical quality again, but something didn’t ring quite true. Perry stared into his eyes, trying to figure him out.

Might as well ask Perry to try and unscramble Fermat’s Last Theorem. He couldn’t even figure himself out properly, let alone anyone else. What did Mas need from him, and would he be able to give it? Perry would if he could, he knew that much. The trouble was working out what on earth the “it” was.

He must have been silent for too long, because Mas’s expression changed. There was a brittle falseness to his wide smile. “Well, sweetheart, it’s been lovely doing the pillow-talk thing, but I’d better get to work. Got to earn my keep here, haven’t I? And I might be homeless and jobless, but I’m not stooping to trading my arse for room and board.”

Ouch. Was that a dig at Cherise?

Perry watched Mas struggle out of bed and start gathering together his clothes from the floor.

He needed to defend his friend. “There’s nothing wrong with selling sex. It’s one of the oldest professions in the world.”

“Yeah, might have known you’d be into it, then. If it’s old, it’s good, right? And the modern world is all far too weird and scary.” Mas pulled up his trousers and began roughly buttoning his shirt. “Well, earth to Perry: I love the modern world. There’s all kinds of exciting stuff going on out there. You’ve just got to learn to live a little. Stretch your boundaries. Take a few risks.”

“I just said I was going to come out.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Jesus, don’t you listen?”

“Listen to what? I’ve been doing nothing but listening.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, then you heard exactly what I said. Someone as clever as you shouldn’t need it all spelling out in words of one syllable. Jesus, why do I always have to end up with emotionally stunted men? Do I have some kind of sign tattooed on the back of my head or something?” Mas turned on his heel and flounced out of the door, leaving Perry utterly perplexed.

He needed to talk to someone to help him understand what was going on. He mentally flicked through his list of potential confidants, and only one stood muster. Of course, she was also the one who had the most to lose from his news.

Perry ground his fists into his eyes, then went to wash the smell of Mas off his skin under a scalding-hot shower.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bastard!
Mas swallowed and blinked back the tears as best he could as he made his way back down the stairs. He’d been fooling himself, thinking that because Perry was straight-ish, he was one of those blokes who didn’t mind a bit of the femme in a man, but the way he’d looked at Mas when he’d confessed about the makeup! And it wasn’t like Mas was especially swishy… Okay, so maybe he was, but some of his mates were way more extreme and he was fucked if he was going to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

He couldn’t do butch. Didn’t even want to try. Not even for someone he loved.

“And there I was, thinking you were the one,” Mas said to a rail of jackets. They didn’t bother answering him back. Mas dug his phone out of his pocket. It was only quarter to seven, and he didn’t have to open up till nine. Plenty of time to work on the displays inside, but right now the thought made him sag like a cheap acrylic sweater. He needed to get out of the building and spend some time with someone who found him attractive just the way he was. He tapped out a text and two minutes later was headed out the door.

Mas shivered, sitting on the wall by the empty university car park. He should have grabbed one of the greatcoats from the shop, but he wouldn’t want Perry to think he was stealing the stock or anything. Instead he hugged himself and shoved his hands under his armpits, then got up and started pacing. Anything to get the blood flowing. Why did March have to be so bloody cold? It was mean to be spring, for fuck’s sake.