The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) (21 page)

Rafe moved his tongue to Pierce’s cheek where he felt the roughness of a growing beard and licked up to the temple where he placed a kiss with his wet lips. Pierce closed his eyes and groaned. He continued his tongue’s journey to Pierce’s ear and he sucked on his lobe, licking the neck behind it.

His man tasted damn good. He couldn’t wait to taste the rest of him. At that thought, his penis pushed against his briefs. He wanted to fuck him so badly, he didn’t know how he was gonna hold all the desire any longer.

At first, Pierce felt peculiar when Rafe started navigating other parts of his body with his tongue — especially his ear, of all places. He’d been kissed in a few spots while making out, but never there, never like that. He’d never gone sexual with anyone, it was always tender making out he was after, always too scared to move to something more erotic. His family had definitely done a number on him if, in his twenties, he still hadn’t done foreplay, let alone fucked someone. It was always a nudging at the back of his brain, every time he kissed a guy he really liked, an activity he enjoyed so much. It would tell him that he and what he was doing was wrong, that being so intimate with another man was inappropriate. Sinful.

They’d done a number on him, alright. He always ran off with guilt overpowering his emotions, making him feel gross, disgusting. Exactly the same every time he’d try to beat off on his own, watching porn or fantasizing about the hottest guy in school or college, and the minute he’d reach the absolute pleasure, absolute depression deprived him of lasting feelings of happiness. He would want to wash, brush his teeth, rip his skin off, get the sin off him as if it was a disease and he was a snake that could shed it. But the craving never went away, only became stronger, as did his thoughts, preventing him from ever moving forward with anyone.

It was cute in high school when being with someone sexually meant doing something unthinkable. It was okay for the straight kids to step up their relationships, but for kids like him? Holding hands and sneaking kisses past the parents was the deal. And it was cute, despite the urges creeping up every time his skin touched foreign skin. But when he got to college? Holding hands was flirting and first date was sucking cock in the public restrooms.

All this, all these past experiences faded, when he sensed Rafe’s breath in his ear and his tongue wetted him. His temples pulsed and his erection begged for release from the prison of his zipper. As if knowing what he was feeling, Rafe bent down and rubbed his body on Pierce’s, their cocks grinding next to each other, separated by layers of clothing that were so unnecessary he wanted to tear them apart, burn them into ashes and never again be encaged in anything but Rafe’s steaming body.

 
And as if having Rafe on top of him working his magic wasn’t enough, his tongue continued its journey down his neck. And as pleasing as having his ear sucked was, goosebumps traveled from his collarbone to the rest of his body. Rafe didn’t stop there. He started placing wet kisses on his chest until his teeth gripped on his right nipple. A sharp pain shot through him and impaled his dick with an unquenchable thirst to come. And Rafe had no mercy; his hand found its way to his crotch and massaged his dick with his palm, while the other hand played with his unoccupied nipple, twisting it with his fingers.

Pierce couldn’t hold it anymore. His throat was dry. He was doing his best to keep the gasps inside, but the further south Rafe went, the stronger his insides trembled. He let out a loud moan as Rafe left a trail with his tongue, sucking on his belly button and licking at the top of his pubes protruding from his trousers. Rafe’s hands unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off, slowly. He threw them over his shoulder and hunched back down, biting on Pierce’s cock through his briefs. Pierce panted. What the fuck was he doing? He was going to come before they’d even started.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Pierce groaned, surprised his voice had any vibrato when his mouth felt so coarse.

Rafe chuckled. “You ain’t felt nothing yet,
cariño
,” he said, and then pulled on the elastic of Pierce’s underwear and placed his tongue on Pierce’s bouncy dick. “Someone’s happy to see me,” he said, and put his lips around the erect penis, pulling the skin down with his fingers, the head of his cock immediately salivated inside Rafe’s warm mouth. Pierce let out another groan with a “fuck” escaping his lips.

On one hand he was wondering why he’d never done that before, but, on the other hand, he was glad he had saved himself for Rafe, because it made him love him even more, going the next step with the guy he loved. And he did love Rafe. It was impossible not to. They’d been through so much together in the past three months, he couldn’t imagine where and what he’d be without him.

The thought of Rafe’s kindness was cut short when he felt his shaft being swallowed up, Rafe’s nose touching his pelvis. He moaned and the vibrations around his penis made Pierce gasp. Rafe pulled the dick out of his mouth and tried again, tightening his lips as he sucked with much more vigor. Pierce felt the blood boiling in his groin, heat pinching at the top of his urethra, his semen begging to shoot. Pierce put his hand on the back of Rafe’s head and pulled on his short hair. His dick felt cool when Rafe took it out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna come,” Pierce whispered.

Rafe sat up and moaned. He took hold of Pierce’s cock, rubbing it gently, his thumb pressing at the top of his head. He fell on top of Pierce and kissed his mouth, his breath a fire that burned Pierce’s senses. Rafe was still stroking the dick with his right hand, the left placed next to Pierce’s head, supporting him over Pierce and giving enough space between them for the handiwork.

Pierce couldn’t stand seeing Rafe with his shirt still on, so he took it off for him. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Rafe smiled and got back to business. He whispered in Pierce’s ear. “I want you to come, come right now,
cariño
,” he said.

Pierce wanted to hold it longer, he didn’t want to last so little, but his entire body was shaking. Desire was dribbling from his pores and the feeling of Rafe’s lips back on his mouth weakened him. His load shot through between them, sprinkling Rafe’s stomach and his. Rafe gasped.

He took his hand off Pierce’s wet dick and unzipped his pants. He whipped his dick out. It was red and throbbing. He stroked it quickly and panted, and surely, not too many seconds later, another hot load doused them both. Rafe let out a long sigh and fell on top of Pierce’s right side, their mixed come daubing their stomachs. Rafe came back for a softer, much more relaxed, kiss.

“That was…” Pierce started to say, but he didn’t know if he could describe what had just happened with anything other than the three words he’d been holding on the tip of his mouth for what seemed an eternity.
 

“I love you,” he whispered and wagged his nose with Rafe’s.

Rafe lifted his head and stared at Pierce, his lids heavy over his brown eyes. He blinked and breathed on his face, but he didn’t speak. Had he made a mistake? Had he just fucked everything up by saying the three formidable words that everyone seemed to always be so afraid of?

“Uh—,” he opened his mouth to apologize or take it back, although taking such words back felt like the biggest sin he could ever commit.

Rafe’s fingers touched his lips and shushed him. “I love you too,” he said in a long sigh, taking pleasure curling the words in his mouth.

Pierce smiled. Rafe smiled. He now knew why he’d never been able to shake the guilt off of him when he’d tried to be with other guys. It wasn’t his Christian background, or the strict parenthood he had endured, or the fate of his beloved gramps and what his family had done to him. No. The guilt had been there because his soul couldn’t allow anyone else touching what was rightfully and universally Rafe’s. Only Rafe made him feel at peace with himself.

Rafe. His soulmate.

Pierce woke up with a craving for Rafe’s lips and good coffee. He got them both before leaving the apartment for another day of hunting real life snapshots. Rafe had worked a double the day before and was off today, so Pierce wanted to let him rest for the morning, especially after working him up overtime. They’d both slept after they’d finished and Pierce couldn’t remember a time when he’d slept better.

A shower the next morning was much needed and when he came out, Wang was standing in the living room, staring at Pierce’s naked body. Pierce tightened the towel around his hips and greeted the old man.

He was a Chinese guy with salt-and-pepper short hair and a skinny, creased face. He was wearing a marshmallow colored shirt and black trousers, a man in his late fifties, and it showed in everything on him, even the way he breathed.

“Who are you?” he asked Pierce with a soft accent and a high pitch.

Pierce giggled and tiptoed closer to Rafe’s bedroom. “I’m Rafe’s friend. Remember me, Mr. Wang? I was here when Rafe moved in,” he said, clutching on the door knob, ready to dive in the safety of the bedroom when given the chance.

“What are you doing here? Where is Rafe?” he asked, the cringe in his face staying there with the accompaniment of a frown.

“I slept over. I hope that’s okay. Rafe is sleeping. He was working all day yesterday,” Pierce explained.

Wang looked around the flat slowly. He turned to Pierce with the same expression which seemed to be pinched on his face permanently now. “Tell Rafe I want to talk to him when he wakes up.”

Uh-oh! Pierce was praying to whatever God existed at this particular moment that Wang just wanted to catch up on Rafe’s life and not tell him off for bringing overnight guests.

“Actually, I’m just popping out and I don’t want to wake him. He’s really tired. I’m sure he’ll be up by noon, though,” he said.

“Okay,” was all Wang responded and Pierce found it the right moment to retreat back into the room and get dressed, trying not to make too much noise. Whatever Wang wanted with Rafe, he wasn’t going to wake up his baby. He needed his sleep and he needed to get out.

He put a kiss on his lover’s lips and left the apartment with his suitcase and camera in hand. He hadn’t had the time to fix his suitcase yet, only managed to tape it together, but he needed to take something with him to show he was leaving and wouldn’t cause further problems. Wang’s eyes felt pinned on his back as he made his way across the hallway and out the door.

When he left the building he was greeted with a sunny glare and a cool air, a combo that he wasn’t sure he liked. Sun had its way of fooling you it was hot when, in fact, it was just the same old shit with sunshine rained upon it. Thankfully, it hadn’t snowed yet and Pierce hoped it wouldn’t. Instead of worrying of what might happen, he decided to explore the streets of Brooklyn.
 

He felt like a homeless tracker pro. He could find his way to anything that was in the slightest bit being inhabited by a street-person. He felt like the odd one out asking permission to take their pictures, when only a few weeks ago, he would have been in his natural habitat.

He tried to explain who he was and what his situation was, although the latter seemed to be problematic. He wasn’t sure if he was homeless or not, anymore. He was unemployed again, which sucked balls, but hopefully either Vance or Sam could get him back one way or the other, or refer him to other friends. But his housing status was unclear. On one hand, he did not have a house, room or bed that was his own, but on the other, he had spent more than two weeks in Rafe’s apartment and it felt natural being there with him, especially now that all the tension had been released and they were an item.

Eventually, he stopped explaining himself. He couldn’t. But he started talking to the people and asking them what they felt like, how they became homeless, what they did before. Half of them had been normal people with addictions that cost them family, friends, and possessions, and the other half had been hit by a series of unfortunate events that led up to the culmination of their homelessness. Some, where gay. They couldn’t hide it even if they wanted to. But there were more ambiguous identities than the gays and the lesbians. There were two trans kids whose parents had abused them or kicked them out. A gay kid whose dad had sexually harassed him for years. There was an intersex person whose parents had sent them to therapy camps, and when they remained vigorous on who they were, they were left out on their own. One kid’s parents had actually moved out of their house without telling their daughter and left her to find an empty apartment when she got back from school. She had no clue where they’d gone.