18. BRUNO

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window of Danny's bedroom, its soft hues blushing and receding, I stirred and realized that here I was in bed with him. It was such a tiny bed, but somehow, after making love, we had both fallen into a deep sleep.

We had slumbered almost as one body, arms and legs entwined. There was no space not to. As I awoke, I was aware almost the whole length of our forms, naked skin, so warm, was touching.

My head was gently against his chest, and his arm held me lightly. I felt the tension of his bicep against my back and his fingertips unconsciously touching the space between my shoulder blades. I knew he was asleep. I could tell from the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing.

I opened my eyes more fully and tilted my head back a little, looking at his big, hairy chest, his round, strong shoulders. I moved my hand slightly to touch his flat stomach. As I did so, his erection brushed my palm. His penis was very hard. I think he had been hard all night long.

It was very early still. It gets light early in summer. I knew I had to go back to the main room so that when Evan awoke, I would be there. We were nowhere near ready to confuse him with this. To him, we were all just best buds. I wasn't sure what else Danny and I might be now.

Gently, I pulled myself from his loose embrace, and as I did so, unthinking, very deeply asleep, he rolled forward onto his belly and groaned. So softly, I rose from the warmth of the bed and tried to gather up my clothes.

I pulled on my underwear so that I could just get into bed in my room like that. I scooted around for my sweatpants and shirt and folded them under my arms. I could not find my socks. What had we done with them?

With a grunt, I heard him say, barely awake, "Where are you going?" He stretched one arm as if to re-embrace me.

I smiled to see him, this big, handsome man, calling me back to his arms. I would have loved to have gone there, stayed the whole rest of that morning there, but I had to think of what was right.

"Shh…" I went. "Go back to sleep."

"Come back to bed," he murmured.

"Shh," I said and stood there, waiting to see if he spoke again, but he didn't. A few seconds later, the slow, steady breathing resumed. He had fallen back to sleep.

I made my way to the bathroom, the floor cool beneath my feet. I didn't shower, but I checked my face to see it looked all right. I brushed my teeth quickly, and then suddenly, I felt it, warm, trickling down my leg: his semen.

He had left part of him inside me. I felt a little sorry. I had wanted to keep his sperm inside me a bit longer. I loved that knowledge of keeping a man's essence, ever since my experiences of bottoming with Marlon. Something about having your man stay inside you like that, after he had pulled out of your body, it was so intoxicating to me.

But with – to be a bit more down-to-earth about it – cum running out my butt, I decided to shower after all. I turned the faucet on good and hot and let it run for a while. Stepping into the steam-filled enclosure, I allowed the warm water to wash over me. I turned the pressure up, let the heat pound my skin.

As I lathered my body with fragrant soap, my mind wandered to the events of the previous night. Had I expected the sex to be so electrically, so wonderfully, good? Maybe I had, in fact. I hadn't been disappointed. It had bonded me, bound me, to him only the more. He was such a great guy, on so many levels. But the fact that our sexual connection was so amazing, that he was not just a great guy but a great lover, a great top, how could that be anything but a wonderful thing?

The memory of our lovemaking, of his weight on me, his touch, his lips, his tongue, lingered on my body. The shower could not shift that, the impression his form had made on mine. My hands lathered my stomach, my buttocks, ran over my nipples. I began to feel aroused again, just thinking of our sex.

I pondered the possibilities of what was ahead now as I rinsed away the suds, the steam swirling around me. Lost in contemplation, I emerged from the shower refreshed and invigorated, a smile playing on my lips. I toweled myself off, pulled my underwear back on, and walked softly back into my room, and silently got into my own bed. Evan was sleeping on his roll-out mattress, snoring softly. Before I knew it, I was sleeping, too.

I wasn't sure how long I slept, but I awoke with a start, with Evan in his pajamas standing like some ghost kid at the end of my bed. I jumped with a start, seeing him, which made him laugh.

"Daddy, can I have my breakfast now?" he asked, clear and eager. His question pulled me back to our life, the simplicity and routine of family.

"Sure, bud." I wondered what stage they were at out in the living room. "Is Danny up?"

"He's in the bathroom, Daddy."

"Okay," I said. "I'll be up in a sec. What do you wanna eat?"

My son planned his next maneuver.

"Froot Loops?"

I laughed.

"We don't have them in the house. I won't buy them no matter how many times you ask me, so how am I going to give you Froot Loops?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know."

That wasn't his problem.

"How about toast and a banana?"

He ate some version of this most days, but now he looked crestfallen, as if he was sure the Froot Loops thing would work one day.

With a chuckle, I pulled myself out of bed and told him to run along. Evan's bright eyes and infectious smile stayed on me. "Okay, buddy," I said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Let's go make some breakfast."

I pulled on a T-shirt I had left on my bedside table, and just in the shorts I had slept in, I got up. Together, we ventured out into the kitchen. Yawning, I put the bread in the toaster, set the espresso maker up, chopped and plated the banana. I was aware of my own body, having been fucked the night before, of where it was sore, but also how fulfilled I felt, having been fucked like that, for the first time in a long time. I felt whole, good.

The toaster popped, and I took my son his breakfast. The aroma of brewing coffee and toast mingled in the air. Morning sunlight danced across the room. I set out some plates for Danny and me at the table, made more toast, got some peanut butter and jelly, set out the coffee cups.

Then I heard the bathroom door open, and out he came, tall, dark, and handsome, with a white towel wrapped around his hips. He looked incredible. I felt so connected to him as he stopped and looked at me, flashed me the most gorgeous, masculine grin.

"You good?" he asked, looking at me very directly the whole time.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm great."

He briefly looked at Bruno, who was searching the cartoon channels for something he liked, then back at me.

"Happy?" he asked.

I gazed at him.

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm happy."

He winked at me.

"Good," he said. "Me too."

Danny got dressed for work, and when he came back out, we sat down to eat our breakfast. Even with Evan barely in earshot and rapt by whatever cartoon was on, Danny and I didn't talk about what had happened the night before. Actually, it didn't feel like we needed to. With our plans for the day set, we seemed to have a shape to the day.

Eventually coming to the table, Evan's excitement bubbled over, filling the apartment with his talk of what he was going to do at the construction site and everything he was going to "advise" the contractors on how they should do their job.

"How are you the expert?" I asked.

I paused a moment on the word "expert," what it might mean or imply.

"'Cause I am the ark-teck," he said.

I laughed, shook my head.

"Danny is the arch-i-tect."

Evan rolled his eyes.

"That's silly, Daddy. We are both arky-tecks!"

At this, Danny burst into laughter and pulled a goofy face at me.

"See?"

Evan finished his breakfast, and I got him dressed, and he bounded off with me to get his bag for school. Danny, too, having cleared the breakfast things, started moving about getting ready for work. He said he had to shoot, he had an early meeting.

"I'll see you later," he said eventually, coming close to me when Evan was still in the bedroom, his voice warm with affection. "Shall I just meet you at the school? I can go there straight from work."

"You can't come home first? It would be nice when he is not here to have a chance to…you know…"

He grinned and drew his face close to mine.

"To fuck?"

I blinked shyly.

"Yeah, for you to fuck me."

"I'd love to," he said. "I don't know if I'll have time. It's hard enough to get away for this."

I nodded. I understood.

"No problem."

Then he touched my hand.

"We have all the time in the world to have sex, Bruno. I want to cum inside you every day from now on." He shrugged. "At least when I'm here."

He reached in and gently kissed my lips, just a husbandly peck, as his fingertips ran down my arms, and briefly, he caught my hand. It took my breath away.

The big-bedroom door opened. Danny took a small step away. Evan started bellowing, "Right then, I am ready, Daddy!" He marched out with his school bag. "See you later, Danny!" And without looking back, he thundered toward the front door.

I turned to look at Danny.

"See you later," I said.

He winked at me.

"See you later, baby."

The word "baby" was like a magic spell. I was breathless that he had even said it.

As Evan disappeared into the bustling schoolyard, I made my way back downtown, my thoughts heady, hazy, with what had happened. The events of the night before danced in my mind, a whirlwind of images, sensations, memories: his fingers in the small of my back, his lips on mine, his tongue first gently kissing, then with more passion, feeling his penis in my hand, unprepared for its size, for how urgently hard he had been for me, his mouth moving down my body, right to my most secret places, and how he asked me to show myself to him, and how I had wanted to do it. I was so lost in it on the train and had to shake myself to pay attention to the stops.

Back home, settling into my workspace, I focused on what I needed to. I read through the pitch my agent, Cheryl, had asked me to prepare. As I hit Send on the email, a rush of anticipation hit me, the promise of new things on the horizon. And a few minutes later, the response came, a single phrase illuminating my screen: "SO EXCITING!!!"

I felt a wave of validation cover me, a sense of affirmation of which I could hardly have dreamed before Danny had come into my life and pushed me to do this. The idea of Kelly doing the same was unimaginable. He seemed just the perfect guy: handsome, sexy, smart, kind, generous, great with Evan, totally supportive about my career. I felt such a spark of hope within me.

As the day wore on, I worked hard, going through parts of the novel that were not finished yet. I knew Cheryl had said that she wasn't too worried, but even so, I wanted the book to be as good as it could be. I thought of going for a run around the East River Park, but my body felt tired – not least from the sex and then falling asleep in that tiny bed – and I just kept working and drinking coffee until it was time to head uptown to meet Danny and Evan.

I saw him waiting for me across the street from the school. As I approached, he saw me and raised a hand. He looked so smart in his work suit, with his briefcase. Crossing the street to meet me, a few of the other mothers looked at him, first with hunger at a passing handsome man, then with curiosity as that man walked toward me, Evan's dad.

He came right up to me and said hey. Just for a second, I thought he might kiss me, which I wasn't ready for, not there at least, but it was okay because he didn't anyway.

I couldn't help but notice more and more glances directed our way. The handsome figure in the sleek suit beside me drew admiring looks.

"Who's this?" Annie, my acquaintance from the school gates, asked.

"Oh, this is my friend Danny."

Annie's eyes ran all over him, eating him up, then switched back to mine.

"Uh-huh, your friend, is it?"

Then the school let the kids out, and Evan charged toward us, boisterously shouting, "Daddy! Danny!"

We walked toward the subway station, Evan between us, and instinctively, he caught both our hands. As we walked, he told us how he had made sure everyone knew that he was an arky-teck and he was going to work at the new building he was doing downtown. I could only imagine what Miss Taylor must have thought he was going on about.

Boarding the subway downtown, we settled into our seats, the familiar rhythm of the train echoing in our bodies. Together, this modern kind of family started drawing smiles from female commuters. I knew what they were thinking: this handsome corporate guy, his cute boyfriend, and the kid they had adopted. If only they knew the truth.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the subway car, a young woman's smile caught my eye. I smiled back at her briefly, then faced the window opposite, our reflections thrown back. I glimpsed an image of our journey, the three of us. Might this be how it would be from now on?

I almost forgot that we weren't actually heading home. Only at the last moment, as Danny got to his feet, did I remember we were headed down to the very southernmost district of Manhattan, getting out at Battery Park.

His project was not even a ten-minute walk from the station, facing out toward the Hudson River down there. As we arrived at the building site, the towering skeleton of the half-built forty-five-story tower block loomed large against the Lower Manhattan skyline. It would have been easily seen from New Jersey. Evan's eyes sparkled with excitement, shocked by the scale of what Danny was working on.

The air buzzed with the sound of construction, the rhythmic clatter of machinery, the hum of activity. Steel beams soared skyward, being taken up to the top of the huge structure, while workers scurried like ants across the sprawling expanse of the site.

Guided by safety protocols, Evan and I were unable to venture too close to the heart of the construction zone. Yet, even from a distance, the sheer scale of the endeavor left us awestruck.

Evan, brimming with enthusiasm, pretended to steer an imaginary digger, his imagination running riot in the presence of the real work actually being done. "I'm going to be an arky-teck like Danny!" he exclaimed.

"You said you already were," I teased.

"Pfft," he said. "You have to train a long time to become an arky-teck." He turned to Danny. "How long do you train to become one?"

"Seven years," came the answer.

Evan's eyes widened with the full reality of the situation.

"That means I won't be an arky-teck till I'm…" He counted on his fingers. "Twelve years old!"

Danny laughed.

"You'd better get started, then!" he cried happily.

Danny showed us what he could, offered insights into the technical complexities of building a skyscraper in the middle of one of the world's greatest, busiest cities.

He explained the challenges of managing logistics, navigating zoning regulations, ensuring structural integrity amidst the chaos of a bustling cityscape. Evan didn't keep up with that, but I did, and I was filled with admiration for him, for his talent.

His words revealed a different kind of intelligence and creativity to mine. While my own strength was one kind of artistic vision and expression, Danny had another, with so much pragmatic and scientific knowledge, experience, and expertise. I liked that, that he knew different things from me.

After the construction site, we made our way to Battery Park, where the children's playground awaited us. Evan's laughter echoed through the air as he raced toward the swings.

Danny shed his business suit jacket and joined Evan in a made-up game of Ninja Turtles, running around the apparatus and even climbing up on it. "Heroes in a half shell!" they both cried at the top of their lungs.

They engaged in an epic battle, their laughter mingling together, and sometimes Evan ended up on his shoulders, and once, jokingly, Danny said that he was going to get up on Evan's, who found this the funniest idea. He couldn't stop laughing.

I saw how Danny embraced his inner child. And I realized that what this was, in part, was him reconnecting with his own damaged childhood. Of course, I had to think of my own son first, but I was glad to be able to give him that. How wonderful to be able to give someone with his background a sense of what a family life could – and should – be.

They went to run around the swings one more time, and as Danny and Evan returned, their faces were red with exhilaration. Danny's eyes sparkled with warmth as he suggested getting pizza.

"Okay, Daddy!" Evan cried.

It was just a moment of innocent confusion, just a slip of the tongue.

"You called me Daddy," Danny said.

Evan looked outraged.

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did."

"Danny and Daddy! Daddy and Danny!" Evan started yelling happily.

Danny's laughter danced on the breeze, and then Evan laughed, too, and I felt so happy to hear it all.

We headed home. Back at the apartment, exhausted, Evan succumbed to sleep. I lifted him gently into my arms, his small body weightless against my chest. With careful steps, I carried him to his bed, tucking him in and putting a teddy bear beside him.

Returning to the living room, Danny and I chatted about what an amazing day out it had been. I thanked him for thinking of it. The day's adventures had left their mark, and Danny sniffed his own armpits and said he thought he had run around too much and he needed a shower.

I looked at him.

"Why don't I come with you?" I said.

The words hung in the air.

"Great," he replied.

Together, we made our way to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it as we began to undress. The atmosphere was easy, comfortable, as if we had been sharing this for years. We made love in the shower, standing up, two bodies in the steam.

We stood together, vulnerable, in the small cubicle, me holding him, smaller, against my body, and kissing. The air was thick with our desire for each other. I couldn't help but wonder if we were at some turning point.

Danny's gaze met mine through the hot mist. The warmth of the water ran over our two forms, the world outside faded away, and we seemed to merge into one person. The sensual touch of the water on our skin was all that we could feel, apart from our mouths, our fingertips, our penises.

As the water flowed over us, he turned me around and, with soapy fingers, massaged my hole. "Fuck me, Danny," I begged. I felt him put his cock to my ass and, soaping both of us up, felt him push inside me. I gasped as he did it.

He began to move inside me. His cock felt so huge but so good, pressing down on my prostate, making my insides buzz. My own cock was so hard I knew I could not touch it. If I did, I would just come.

The first night he fucked me, we did it in every position, but now we just rocked gently in the shower, him inside me, his arm around my waist, drawing me back rhythmically on the hardness of his shaft. What was wonderful was just how close we felt, doing it like that.

Eventually, he whispered in my ear, "I am going to cum inside you, baby. Will you cum for me?"

Just him saying it made my balls tighten, and a second later, again without me even touching myself, semen started spraying out of me. Watching it, he went, "Fuck, Bruno!" He started going faster. "Fuck, Bruno!"

"Cum inside me, Danny," I gasped.

He thudded into my body, his lips falling against the skin of my shoulder, and then I felt his cock shoot and twitch inside me, and he fell against mine, and I felt so complete.

I felt like I belonged to him.

I felt like I was his.