Disclaimer:
This story contains homosexual themes. If you are offended by such topics or not of legal age to read such stories, please do not read on. The names of characters and their engagements are fictitious. Any resemblances to real life are completely coincidental.
The author asserts all legal and moral rights to this work and it may not be copied or transmitted in any way except in its entirety along with this disclaimer.
Copyright (c) Anne 2009. All rights reserved.
You Don't Say - 4
After the red he was seeing had subsided, Michael found that he could unclench the fists that were held inside the pockets of his coat. When he spoke he that found his voice came out coarser than he had intended.
"Andrew."
"Holy shit!" the guy getting some good work on his cock, was appropriately shocked by the man in the doorway.
Michael was still waiting for Andrew to say something, or turn around at least. He was unable to take his eyes off the guy who had had his dick in Andrew's mouth.
"You better go." Andrew said finally.
The calm in Andrew's voice almost drove his anger back into him, but Michael waited until the stranger gathered up his clothes and left. Both men waited to hear the front door open and shut.
"I'm gonna take a shower" Andrew said, running his hands through his hair and headed for the bathroom, situated to the right of his bed.
"I'll be here."
"That'll be a change." Andrew turned to look at him before closing the door to the bathroom. "Welcome back."
Michael noted that there was no resentment, his voice was flat emotionless. It didn't sound like the Drew.
Taking off his coat, Michael looked around at the room. The neatest part was the desk and that had files and papers strewn everywhere. He went over to open a window, wanting to dilute the smell of sweat and sex from the room and the image of Andrew's lips exercising around another man's cock.
Michael turned on the stereo towards a familiar station and did what he could to the room, working out what he was going to say to Andrew as he did.
When Andrew stepped out of the shower he looked around his room. His carpet, which had been lost to him for some time had returned. The room was almost spotless and Andrew couldn't remember being more angry. Gritting his teeth he turned his back to Michael, as he retrieved some boxer shorts.
Michael on the other hand had stopped to stare, caught amidst his struggles with the vacuum cleaner's wire to see that Andrew's body wasn't as he'd remembered or dreamt about. It was more defined now, but on Andrew's frame it looked out of place. He had always been lean and now that was more visible.
"Drew?"
"What Michael?"
"I meant it, I'm sleeping here tonight."
"Go ahead, the bed's big enough for four." Andrew paused and looked back at Michael before adding "Trust me."
"Let me put this stuff away and maybe we can talk." Michael found he had to start doing something. His cheeks were burning with frustration. He knew he had no right to be mad.
"I have an early start tomorrow."
"It's Sunday."
"I know. Goodnight." Andrew found himself shaking his head as the smell of clean sheets entered his nostrils. `Bastard,' he thought before turning off the light on his side of the bed.
Michael was left standing within the confines of household wiring, confused and scared. He got himself out of it eventually and put it away. He couldn't stop himself from taking a shower despite having taken one prior to visiting Andrew. In bed with Andrew, Michael watched the shoulders to his left rise and fall.
It would have been presumptuous of him to think that all it would take was for him to reach his hand over and run it along the backbone next to him. That the body would wake up, turn and forgive him wordlessly. In his mind's eye Michael saw himself not having to explain why he left and Andrew understanding.
Staring at the ceiling and pushing aside his need to clean it, Michael thought back to the first time he was in this bed, six months ago. He remembered tasting Andrew over and over and dozing off, only to wake up wanting more of him. Andrew never blushed, either he could control it or it wasn't in him. Yet, Michael could have sworn that he saw Andrew blush that night on every inch on his body and he had been responsible.
Hindsight being beneficial, Michael knew that he shouldn't have left and definitely not after they had first made love. He couldn't stop wondering about the period of his departure and the time it took for other men to occupy the space he was now in. He had no right to be mad, but still.
He had honestly wanted some air, which the walk had given him. Then he decided he wanted a drive, which is how Michael found himself back at his house. There, he thought about the heat that was still on his body after being with Andrew. As he packed his bags and went to the airport Michael realized he couldn't remember the name of the wine that had lingered on Andrew's lips. It bothered him as he boarded the plane. In Paris sitting on one of the benches outside the Musee d'Orsay, he remembered Andrew's grin as he said "Ha! And you thought you couldn't do it."
He had meant what he had written in his text, he had meant to return sooner. The problem was that the longer he stayed away, the harder it became to bridge that gap he had put in place.
Michael returned his mind from his thoughts and reached over to Andrew, wanting to turn him around, but his arm was stopped midair.
"You'd better be stretching."
"Goodnight, " Michael offered weakly.
Andrew replied by burying his head further into the two pillows he slept with.
Michael always woke up at six no matter how little sleep he had gotten. It was odd to find that he was alone considering how much Andrew loved his sleep, but it was understandable.
He knew that Andrew would avoid him, he expected it to be obvious and harrowing. But it still hurt. Seeing someone you care about live their life as if you don't exist. Andrew would leave early, come back late coupled with the stench of beer and whatever else he had been around, where ever he had been.
After three weeks it became too much and Michael got desperate.
"Michael!"
The man in question was downstairs humming to himself as he put the finishing touches to the breakfast tray. Andrew had woken up at around the right time and now it was up to him to make sure he fixed what he had done. Michael couldn't help but smile. It had been awhile since he had heard Andrew shout, or speak with any hint of passion in his voice.
"Fuck! They're digging into my skin!" there was a brief pause before Andrew hollered Michael's name again.
"Okay, okay, hang on" Michael said, mostly to himself as he remembered the pomegranate juice. Not to his taste but Andrew couldn't stop drinking the stuff. He looked down at the tray, double checking he had everything he needed before heading upstairs.
"I have to go to work!"
"I called in and said you couldn't make it in today." Michael's voice came out cautiously, as he tried to keep the newspapers from falling, as he turned the corner into the bedroom.
"Look, this can wait."
"No. It can't." Michael looked up briefly to look at Andrew. He tried to make it a quick glance, but it was hard since the man was only in his boxers. The muscles in his upper body highlighted by the morning light, his arms strained from being stretched out. Michael noted that Andrew had been out in the sun, his chest hair was a little tinted so was the hair that went from his belly button to...
Michael had to turn to hide the heat that rose in his cheeks. He went to put the tray filled with breakfast goods on Andrew's desk and proceeded to lay a napkin on his lap. He had never condoned eating in bed. However, this was proving to be desperate time.
"It doesn't have to be like this..." Andrew offered.
"Yeah, it does. You don't talk to me you barely look at me. When you do it's like I'm not there. It's getting annoying." Michael's voice revealed more emotion than he'd intended.
Pulling the bed covers away from Andrew's legs Michael had to remind himself to focus. The image of Andrew's long limbs against the light blue sheets played around in his mind as he went to retrieve their breakfast.
"This is ridiculous."
"Don't act like you've never been in this situation before."
Andrew's sense of smell had been correct when he saw what was placed on the tray before him. Bacon, the healthy kind of course, eggs, muffin, which appeared to be bran and wholemeal pancakes. `Only Michael' Andrew thought. It was sometimes hard to believe that someone so straight laced was an artist. Looking at the array of food, made with Michael's sensibilities but with his taste in mind, Andrew almost forgot his anger was still there.
"You colour coded the breakfast."
"Your morning wood is showing." Michael couldn't help the silent cheer when Andrew actually looked down to check. "Here try this, " he slipped in some eggs into Andrew's mouth before getting the paper.
"Michael!"
"Which section do you want?"
"I want you dead."
"Ok, here's the sports." He reached over and gave Andrew some juice, surprised that he drank it so easily. He continued to feed himself and Andrew, until most of the morning meal was gone. Turning each of their newspaper pages after an adequate amount of time had passed. "One day I'm going to understand what the stock market is all about."
"This is no way an apology."
"You'll know I apologise." Michael retorted, casually turning a page "This is breakfast. I know if you've noticed but you alsmot look gaunt."
"Let me go."
"No, " Michael spoke after swallowing down his cereal, his eyes returning to the paragraph about Guantanamo Bay.
"I need the bathroom."
"Oh, of course. I almost forgot."
"I'm not doing that infront of you."
"You do remember that I looked after you when you had a fever of 102. I've seen you do a lot worse."
Michael returned from the bathroom with the appropriate vessel. "Now just aim and mind the spray."
"You're sick." But Andrew did as he was told. After, he understood why Michael had washed his hands but not why he had had to follow suit. Andrew shook his head as the anti-bacterial wipe passed over his hands ...and other things.
"Thank you for breakfast. Now let me go."
"You're welcome and no." Michael retrieved the plates and then the tray. He returned and removed the covers all the way and folded them at the end of the bed. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No. Look I really do have a busy day today."
"You're already far ahead in your work. Mrs. Nolan says you've been putting too much pressure on yourself lately and she says you should call her."
"Mum, hates it that you don't call her by her first name."
"It just doesn't feel right."
Andrew remembered that that was what Michael had said when he'd first met his mother.
"Michael what are you doing?" Andrew asked tiredly.
"I'm taking her advice. She said I should make you understand."
"So what, you're going to rape me?"
"It isn't rape if you're already hot for me and from what I can see, really in the mood."
Working logically Michael started at Andrew's feet and worked his way up, licking and biting at the strong calves in front of him. When Andrew tried kicking him he had to hold both legs down, putting some of his weight behind the effort.
"She said that I should be honest." Michael let his lips savour the feel of Andrew's leg hairs tickling him.
"Ok." Even to Andrew that response sounded weak. He didn't know how one held up in such situations; handcuffed to a bed, whilst the man of his dreams gave him a tongue bath. Michael had taken off his t-shirt and Andrew couldn't stop focusing on the strong back and black boxer briefs hiding well shaped rear. Somewhere in the background, Andrew was sure Michael was saying something.
"I was just scared. I still am." Michael, now fully on his stomach had to push Andrew's legs wider to make room for himself. He noted that there wasn't much resistance from Andrew. He started nibbling at the inner thighs. Michael continued.
"I woke up and I walked out but I meant to come back. Then all I kept thinking about was how right and good it felt to be with you. It was like this huge weight had left me. You'd done that."
Michael paused getting his hands around Andrew's thighs and pulling his body forward.
"What would happen if you stopped? If you gave all that to someone else or you changed your mind. The questions just kept building and before I knew it...well you know the rest."
"Yeah...ins...instead of talking to me you ran away." Andrew stopped mid-sentence to make room for the moan he emitted. "You're such a pansy."
The words only caused Michael to increase his efforts. He soon found himself rewarded as Andrew convulsed.
"That was the apology bit." Michael offered, still nuzzling at Andrew.
"I hate you."
"You couldn't even if you tried." There was no mockery in his voice which was another surprise to Michael. He pulled his body up slowly, careful not to rub up against any body parts that were still too sensitive.
"Giving head makes you arrogant."
"From the quickness of your draw, I have every right to be." Michael leaned forward and stared closely at the man in front of him. He moved himself closer to Andrew's heat, his legs straddling the upper part of his thighs.
"I would kick you." Andrew spoke softly. He couldn't help his head turning to meet Michael's hand as it went through his hair.
"I'm sorry."
"Six fucking months."
"For you... maybe." Again there was no hint of a joke in Michael's eyes.
"I won't be held responsible for what you drive me to do."
" Drew neither of us has a good track record with relationships."
"Speak for yourself. My track record is perfect I'm friends with all my ex-es"
"You sleep with some of them."
"Only if there's time."
"You pretty much hump anything male, human and over eighteen and you're proud of it."
"I have lots of sex. Most of my relationships don't last long. But we were meant to be different. I've never walked away from you. I never will. It's always been that way where you're concerned. You just don't ever seem to get that."
"I've never asked you for a second chance."
"Because I usually fuck up, right?" Andrew looked at Michael challengingly. "Get off me."
"Can we be exclusive?"
"That's what you gauged from what I just said?"
"I'm taking that as a yes." Michael found himself gliding his tongue along Andrew's neck.
"I'm not going to forgive just because you're hand is around my dick."
"Fine."
Before Andrew could comment on the cold that invaded his body when Michael left it, he was back, lube and condom in hand.
They had only been apart from each other for long periods twice before. The first time had been after Michael had walked in on Andrew getting a rim job from Stephen. The second time had been after Michael had gotten married, against Andrew's protests. Like previous times, they made had made up.
"I want to go out with you," this time it was Michael's breathing that was trying to return to normal.
"Ok, " Andrew was running his hand down the forearm that seemed to be encasing his body. "You don't have to hold me that tightly."
"I know."
"Some breathing room would be nice."
"Mmhhmm" Neither party attempted to loosen Michael's grip.
"You can't just sex me up each time you do something wrong."
"Are you sure you're a guy?"
The room was heavily scented with their various love-making sessions. Michael didn't let Andrew leave the bedroom for most of the day. When he took the cuffs off, he then proceeded to follow Andrew where ever he went; they had talked screwed and then screwed some more. Finally they were back in the bedroom, tired, happy and finally certain.
"Why did you sleep with Stephen?"
"You really are as dumb as you look."
Andrew reached over to turn off the light. He thought back to the one man Michael had been serious about and would have fallen for, if he hadn't stepped in. It had taken a lot of effort to lead Stephen astray, but it had been worth it.