Only he would be dorky enough to believe he couldn’t be totally gay unless he took it up the ass. But he did believe that—no matter what arguments he made to himself—and he’d never feel authentic unless he did. “Maybe I’ll be into it,” he muttered to himself as he stood under the hot spray of water.
Ten minutes later, he came out of the bathroom wearing the freakish aqua robe his mother had sent him at rehab, because as ugly as it was, he was pretty sure it was hotter than his naked self. While he’d been soaping up his body, he’d realized that while he may be thin, he sure the fuck wasn’t in shape.
Dalton was in shape. Perfect shape.
Now, back in the bedroom, he could verify that. See all the perfectly defined slimness of Dalton, his smooth chest showing textbook-ideal muscles. He lay on the bed mostly naked, except for a pair of briefs. They were the kind of underwear Tierney had always suspected gay men wore in real life, patterned with something he couldn’t identify in the low light. Probably cheeky and very of-the-moment, but abstract. Only straight men wore boxers patterned with objects like airplanes or monkeys.
I have utterly lost my mind.
He grabbed the belt of his robe, hanging tightly to the ends. “This isn’t just a pity fuck is it?” Get a clue. He whacked himself in the forehead with his palm. “Shit, of course it’s a pity fuck. I asked you to have sex with me because I’ve never been with a guy before, and you’re taking pity on me. That’s, like, the definition of a pity fuck.”
Dalton had lifted his head from the pillow, and was now wrinkling his nose at Tierney. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re so . . . stunning. Like, everything about you. You even have abs. I mean, I don’t even know if I own those, let alone could make them show.”
“Tierney.” A smiled flitted across his face.
“What?”
“Come here.”
Climbing on the mattress and knee-walking across to him was awkward swaddled in a bathrobe, but Tierney did it, lying down on his side next to Dalton when he patted the bed. He ended up with his head on the same pillow as Dalton’s, staring into his eyes.
Then Dalton took Tierney’s face in his hands. “How many times do I have to say I’m attracted to you before you believe me?”
“Um.” Tierney swallowed. “Probably more times than you’re going to.” In my life.
“Can you at least believe that this isn’t a pity fuck?”
“I think so.” He brought lube, just in case. “Yeah.”
“Are you certain about doing this?” Dalton smoothed his warm palm over Tierney’s shoulder, under his robe and down his arm, baring it to the air. Squeezing his biceps.
Tierney’s skin prickled where Dalton’s hand had been, and a wave of something shivered through him. “I think so. I mean yes.”
“That doesn’t sound very certain.”
He took a huge breath and let it out slowly, but he still had to swallow before he could say anything. “I’m a thirty-four-year-old virgin. I don’t think not being nervous is an option.”
Dalton didn’t respond, not verbally. He kissed Tierney instead. Soft lips, like a question. Tierney answered by stretching toward him, pushing his mouth against Dalton’s. Unsure what to do, because they’d kissed before, but this time it was intended to lead to something else, and maybe—
Dalton engulfed him. Nudging with his tongue until Tierney opened for him. He didn’t ravage his mouth—instead he caressed Tierney, convincing him this would all be all right and he could do it. Convincing him he actually wanted it so thoroughly that when Dalton drew away from him, Tierney found his thigh wrapped around Dalton’s legs, holding them together. Dalton laid a hand on Tierney’s hip and brought his hard cock against Tierney’s through the layers of fabric.
Dalton smiled and kissed him quickly once more. “It’s good to know you’re excited about it.” He ground them together, sending another wave of sensation through Tierney. One strong enough to make him suck in a breath and grab Dalton’s arm and hold on.
Dalton coaxed him the rest of the way out of his fluffy aqua armor while Tierney soaked in the feeling of being touched like this by someone he wanted, no barriers between them. Dalton worked down Tierney’s body, feeling him everywhere with his fingers, then his tongue. As if he didn’t find Tierney’s muscles weak or his skin too pale at all. Like maybe he actually was attracted to him.
Then Dalton lay between his spread legs, gripping Tierney’s dick in his fist while looking up at him, lips moving.
Tierney blinked, straining to hear over the blood rushing in his ears, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. Give the dude permission? Ask for it again? Was there some ritual saying he should know, but didn’t because he hadn’t been watching the right porn? Shouldn’t someone make an instructional video for dorks like him?
“Tierney.” Dalton’s lips moved again, this time with soundtrack. “Hand me the lube.”
His lungs seized up, just for a second, but then he managed to reach across the bed and grab the bottle Dalton had left on the nightstand. After handing it off, he closed his eyes and lay back, searching through the catalog of meditative breathing exercises he’d learned for the one most likely to get him through this.
“Relax,” Dalton whispered, the word brushing against the head of Tierney’s dick. Best breathing exercise ever. He shivered, gasping when Dalton’s lips glided over the same skin. Then his tongue, swirling across the top of Tierney’s cock, tracing contours.
“That’s—fuck—totally relaxing.”
Dalton’s quick laugh vibrated down Tierney’s shaft as the guy sucked it into his mouth. It was better than the first blowjob Dalton had given him, mostly because of how Tierney felt about Dalton. He didn’t trust anyone else enough to ask them to fuck him, only this guy. Dalton wouldn’t sneer at him, he’d take care with him.
Like now, he was taking care to make sure Tierney was suitably distracted before pressing a fingertip against his asshole. Oh, Tierney noticed, but it wasn’t alarming so much as surprisingly pleasurable, even when Dalton had to use slight force to get past Tierney’s ring of muscle. But Dalton made it in, slowly working his finger back and forth, until it was moving in the same rhythm his mouth was on Tierney’s cock.
Then came another finger, in tandem with the slurp of a long pull up Tierney’s cock. And he kept introducing more that way—distracting, exciting suction on Tierney’s dick, another digit in—until Tierney didn’t know how many were in there and didn’t care. Seven maybe. Having his dick in Dalton’s hot, wet mouth, tongue pressing against the bottom of Tierney’s shaft, while something filled his ass, felt so much better than he ever thought it could. When Dalton pushed inside him, it was a weird kind of desirable discomfort. His nerves sent alarm signals at the same time as they were beguiled by the feeling, encouraging Tierney to rock with the rhythm. His sphincter stopped trying to force the intruders out and started gripping them, wanting them to stay and play awhile. When Dalton rubbed against his prostate, it felt even better, although it wasn’t the jolt of bliss Tierney had expected. The best sensations came from the stroking in his hole, coordinated with the bobbing of Dalton’s head, engulfing his dick.