Chapter Twenty Four

JULIAN

July 16, 1994

It's been such a whirlwind year, but my Saccharo Ferre and I made it by the skin of our teeth. The last few months were especially vexing for him. Especially since he'd been preparing for his very last set of finals, concluding his education in Boston. While he spent months tugging on his beautiful, lush hair, I did much of the same. I'm sure I've written about this previously, but I was promoted to Lead Technician at Fenway Drugs a year ago. It came with a pay raise of an extra dollar per hour—and fifty percent more stress than what I was accustomed to.

We just returned to New York City a couple of weeks ago. Pretty much right after my replacement was hired at the pharmacy. Gray found some entry-level technical position with a building outfit—an acronym with a few letters which I don't truly know what they stand for. Though, he's happy so far and that's all I could ever ask for.

As assumed, Alex and Miles insisted upon moving us back in with them. Though, they've since relocated to Gramercy Park. Same conditions as before, just need to contribute to groceries. Which is helpful because Gray and I are paying for my education now. After years of not tossing a dime at Northeastern University for his. This fall I'll be attending the NYU writing program. I didn't go back on my promise of re-enrolling, as I have never once given up on my aspirations.

There are already two manuscripts in my moving boxes, but they remain unpublished. This could possibly change within the year, since I'm back in the office at Seven Liberties Publishing. Only this time, I'm being paid a small wage to help the acquisitions editor weed through submissions from agents. Though it's part-time because I'm taking all the required general ed subjects for my English degree. But my first paycheck didn't go completely without a splurge. Yesterday, I surprised Grayson with a romantic night out to celebrate our reinduction as Yankees. That's what Miles calls us anyway.

Once I arrived home from work, I quickly stripped my clothes. I figured Gray would be home soon after me, so I stepped into a shower to clean off while waiting. I reckoned that he'd show up the minute I stepped in the tub. And sure enough, the front door slammed shut as soon as water started trickling down my backside. I heard him searching the apartment, calling out my name in the usual spots. After a third shout, he found me in the bathroom.

"Is that you Momo?" He asked from the doorway.

To fool around with him, I lowered my voice to a baritone octave. "No, I'm Gary."

It must have sent an extra piston firing in that engine of his. "Gary huh?"

I smiled, knowing full well he'd turn it into a fun little role play. "Yeah, Julian's boyfriend," I said.

"Well—Gary—" he started. "Got any room for Julian's ‘other' boyfriend?"

His undressing silhouette could be seen through the shower curtain. He bent over, sliding off his underwear before reaching his hand inside. In another second, his head peeked around the curtain while my hot little Sugar Bear's eyes scanned me from head-to-toe. I tugged on Grayson's arm, urging him over the ledge of the tub before I tilted my head to feel his lips press into mine. His right palm landed on the side of my neck while our tongues dove deep into one another's mouth. Water rained down his black hair, as my right hand traveled the length of his spine—down to one of his ass cheeks.

We kissed for minutes, only pausing for me to grab the bar of soap so I could lather suds all over his body. Once he was cloaked in soap, Grayson returned the favor. We've showered together plenty, but it seems each time ushers a new possibility.

"You're so filthy," I said, paying special attention to clean the muck around his neck.

He caressed my cheek softly with a dirty thumb. "I was at a construction site today."

I let the shooting strings of water rinse the exfoliation from Grayson's skin, before he pushed my backside into the tile behind me. My head instinctively cocked back the second his hand gripped my cock.

While I'd made dinner reservations, I didn't fight the notion of giving him my load before we left. "We gotta hurry, we have plans," I insisted.

He raised his eyebrow out of curiosity. "Oh yeah?" He muttered. "And where is—" his tone lowered to the octave I spoke earlier. "—Gary," he added for emphasis. "—Taking me?"

"Gage and Tollner on Fulton," I replied with a grin.

Grayson's voice squealed as if in shock. "Brooklyn?" He questioned, his hand starting to stroke my dick with vigor. "That place is expensive—yes?"

I moaned at the touch of his generous hand. "I have a feeling you're about to earn it," I replied audaciously. "Besides, our first New York date was in Brooklyn."

"But ‘this is' our first date, Gary," he joked, leaning in to plant another kiss before lowering to my waist.

Grayson's mouth felt sweeter than sunshine. His tongue circulated the tip of my cock every time he pulled back for some air. We've been so busy from the moment we'd packed to move, up until now. Especially since he'd already had an interview set up with Tusk Innovations before our return. To that end, we've barely had enough time to fit in a decent meal. Let alone sexy times.

The water started growing cold before my dick throbbed insatiably. A moan or two escaped my lips as I smacked my hand into the wall enclosing us. Within a second, I screamed to the cadence of the pure pleasure ejecting from my cock, literally at the speed of sound. Gray didn't pull his head back to waste a single drop of my Latino delight. His gaze met mine with a look of admiration. Fuck! I probably appreciated it the most. I fully intended on responding in kind the minute we came home from dinner.

Later in the evening, we sat down at our table at Gage and Tollner. The cashed paycheck nestled inside my wallet didn't discourage me from dropping the entire stack in one place, since we don't have to start paying NYU for a couple of months. Grayson, however, required an entire pep talk just to order a nice ribeye. Gage and Tollner charges by the ounce, which stung some deeply rooted thriftiness inside my man. It took an act of congress, but he finally agreed on the steak.

"Since you paid for dinner, let me at least cover dessert," Grayson offered.

I'm pretty sure what escaped my mouth sounded like a chortle. "Sorry, Saccharo Ferre, your cock is too savory to be considered a dessert."

I took his left hand as we retreated from the restaurant with very full bellies. There wasn't a chance I had enough room to devour an extra course, but my palate will never deny the thing hidden behind his zipper.

"And what's for dessert?" I asked anyway.

Grayson pointed up the sidewalk. "There used to be a cheesecake outfit around the corner here," he informed me. "At least I'd heard about it years ago."

Uggghhhh. He'd just struck me with my vice. Fucking cheesecake. Though sex was on my agenda—and usually always is—I couldn't help but salivate at the mention of something my coworkers back in Boston took turns bringing every Friday. We rounded the corner of Smith Street before crossing at the intersection at Livingston. Off to the left was the grand haven of them all—Aunt Mary's Cheesecakery.

"This is esteemed to be the cheesecake palace in all of New York," Grayson said, swinging the door open for me.

"Palace huh?" I questioned with my eyes as big as Jupiter.

But the truth is—besides Grayson's pretty face—it might have been the most magnificent thing I've seen in my life. From case to case, dozens upon dozens of Cheesecake varieties spread throughout the shop. Granted, this was Aunt Mary's modus operandi. So of course, there would be different options to choose from. Yet my eyes grew bigger than my stomach.

"Choose one, Momo," he insisted. "And we'll take it somewhere quiet."

I selected a raspberry amaretto cheesecake before trekking back to his parked truck a few blocks down Fulton. He drove through downtown Brooklyn, stopping in a spot as he took my hand to usher me down a brick path through Prospect Park. We found a bench surrounded by oak trees. There, we took a seat while Gray retrieved a single plastic fork from the plastic bag with our dessert. It was entirely impossible for us to eat the whole damn thing. In fact, I'm eating a leftover piece now as I sit here writing this.

His lips intersected mine with intervals of tasting our dessert, raising his hand to my mouth for each bite. Grayson's quite adept at feeding me like a mother would her infant. The sky turned dim as I marveled at the twinkles of cosmic dust. Scanning the void above us, my eyes wandered aimlessly for the North Star. At that moment, I hoped that mamá would be consumed by the allure of our constellations at precisely the same time. Despite Central Park's lack of substantial lighting, we still found our way back to the truck unimpeded.

The building doorman greeted us upon our return home just past ten. Once we reached our bedroom, Grayson unbuttoned my yellow shirt with white polka dots before practically ripping my khakis to shreds. I held out my finger, while sauntering to the living room for a few candles from a stand behind the couch. Once I returned, I realized his thoughts of setting the mood resembled mine to an exact degree.

A Spanish version of "Stand by Me" graced our ears as I lit the candles, setting them on our nightstand. I turned around at Gray's touch, raising his hands to my neck. His tongue plunged directly into my mouth. It takes very little to set fire to my man's mojo as fiercely as Austin Powers. But we have this shared affinity to Latin and Spanish, both incredibly sexy in their own right. We swayed to the melody in candlelight while our adjoined lips formed every shape imaginable. And in one fell swoop, I nudged him backward to the bed.

He landed atop our goose down comforter with a look of zeal, as I traced my fingers up his thigh. My fervorous got lost in his carbonated gaze. Once my hand traced over his bulge, I unzipped his pants. They slid down his legs as he pushed his head back into our pillows—precisely the very moment my tongue touched the tip of his already throbbing cock. It tasted clean from our shower earlier, yet a fresh salt flavor glazed over His Majesty. He moaned while my mouth dipped up and down, my tongue like a homing device slithering around his sweet spots.

Much like me earlier in the shower, it didn't take long for him to climax. When his nuts released the lever, it was Puerto Rican monsoon season directly into my face. I swiped my fingers across my cheek, inserting them into my mouth to taste the passion to escape his well-endowed cock. Gray's warm torso invited me to brush up against it, as I reached for a washcloth in the top drawer of our nightstand. After a second of fishing around the drawer, he leaned over with his tongue. It smoothed all around my face, lapping up every morsel of his release.

We held each other in the dark with the occasional reflection of a flame dancing across the ceiling. His hand made little circles across my chest hairs—something I've begun accumulating the past couple of years. Meanwhile, the cassette tape finished playing, leaving the two of us to bask in each other's loving presence. Another few minutes later, Grayson tossed an idea way out of left field.

"Let's try having a kid."