20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Allen

“Mmm, I think I agree with you, dear,” Allen said as he sat back in his lounge chair and took a second bite of his s’more. “The dark chocolate is better. And it melts slower, I think?”

“Yes, exactly,” Greg said, nearly beaming as he sandwiched a perfectly toasted marshmallow between two graham crackers. “The dark chocolate isn’t as sweet, so it balances the sweetness from the marshmallow and the graham cracker. Plus, the melting temperature is higher, so it’s not quite as messy too. And that method of toasting the marshmallow—good idea, darling. It worked just right.”

Greg stepped away from the firepit and took a seat in the chair next to Allen’s, biting into his third s’more of the evening. Allen was only on his second, and he figured it would probably be his last since he was still full from the incredible dinner Greg had cooked earlier. He licked some chocolate off his fingers and watched his husband do the same. Then he took another bite and looked out over the top of the fire toward the water. It was fairly dark since the moon wasn’t out yet, and he could just make out a few lights dotting the shore on the other side of the channel.

It felt peaceful, and for the first time that day, he was starting to feel relaxed. Actually, really relaxed. No more buzzing in his fingers or that hazy sort of exhaustion that had been hanging over him all week long. No more weirdness in his chest—that feeling he’d had all day like his heart was struggling to maintain a constant rhythm. And no more overwhelmingly intrusive thoughts—at least, not so bad that he had to keep distracting himself with other things.

A warm, gentle hand covered his, and Allen smiled and turned to look at his husband. Greg was studying their hands, his expression soft and thoughtful, and when he finally glanced up at Allen, his eyes were just as soft and so kind. His thumb rubbed over Allen’s knuckles, and he looked like he wanted to ask a question, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes flitted down to Allen’s lips, and then he leaned over toward Allen in invitation.

They met halfway in a slow, chocolatey kiss that deepened briefly as Greg’s tongue teased its way into Allen’s mouth, tasting and exploring in the most undemanding way. Allen made some quiet sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and Greg’s hand caressed lightly up his forearm and then continued higher to cup his cheek.

“Mmm, yeah,” Greg murmured as he pulled back just slightly. He dipped back in for another kiss, their mouths slanting together in a way that somehow just surrounded Allen in a swath of warmth and love. Greg hummed into the kiss and then broke away. “That is good chocolate.”

Allen smiled in agreement and then turned his head and pressed his lips against Greg’s palm. When he opened his eyes again, Greg was watching him with some content, hopeful smile, his thumb stroking back and forth along Allen’s cheek. It felt good. So good. And it was a deep feeling that seemed to spread through him, all warmth and certainty and love.

As though Greg knew what Allen was thinking, his smile grew just a little more, and he kissed Allen’s forehead. “I love you, darling.”

Allen closed his eyes again. “I love you too,” he said quietly, and he leaned into Greg’s touch, letting himself feel all the comfort and love Greg was offering. He wanted to say a little more too; he felt he should say something more. Greg had been just wonderful all afternoon—taking care of everything, making sure Allen was comfortable and happy, and somehow doing it all without any expectations and in a way that didn’t make Allen feel any guilt about any of it.

He just felt loved. He felt that same deep feeling of warmth and certainty and love, and it was so much better than everything he’d been feeling for the last couple of weeks that it was almost overwhelming.

“This is perfect,” he said, his voice low and maybe a little rough with emotion. He straightened up and smiled softly at Greg again before he looked back out over the fire toward the water. Greg’s hand slipped down to cover Allen’s, just as it had earlier, and they both sat in silence for a few more minutes, finishing their s’mores.

Eventually, Greg stood, gathered up all the leftover food, and disappeared into the cabin for a moment. When he returned, he stopped behind Allen’s chair, set his hands on Allen’s shoulders, and began massaging gently. It was another thing that felt good and relaxing, and Allen closed his eyes again and took a long, slow breath as the light touch continued. Greg massaged his shoulders and neck, then moved to his upper back, rubbing with sure, soft strokes. It was a slow burn—a glow that spread gradually, reaching all the way down to his toes. And when Greg’s warm lips brushed against his cheek just below his ear, Allen shuddered as some stronger need tugged at him.

“I still owe you a dance, don’t I?” Greg whispered, and he pressed a kiss to Allen’s earlobe and then moved lower with another kiss and then another, trailing a quiet path down to Allen’s jawline.

“Mmm, yeah. Yeah, I think you do,” Allen managed as another jolt of heat rushed through him. He tilted his head back slightly, and Greg hummed as though in approval and shifted to press a kiss to Allen’s lips, his hands stilling on Allen’s shoulders.

With a gentle squeeze, Greg straightened up again, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone as he stepped around the side of Allen’s chair. A moment later, Greg’s lips twitched up into a half-smile, and some soft, melodic song began to play. It took a few seconds for Allen to recognize the tune, but when the artist began to sing their cover of “How Long Will I Love You,” Allen gasped softly.

“Ah, I... I love this song,” he said quietly.

Greg smiled again as though he’d known just that and reached out with one hand. “Allen Westin, my love, may I have this dance?”

There were tears in his eyes already, but Allen nodded and took his husband’s hand. Greg helped him stand and then led him over to the other side of the firepit. And when Greg turned to face him and their eyes met, a wave hit him. It was one he’d felt so many times before—one of love and trust and belonging—and yet this time, for whatever reason, it hit harder. Maybe it was the atmosphere—the quiet, romantic night with stars twinkling overhead and the soft breeze bringing cool air off the water. Or maybe it was the music. Or maybe it was just Greg—Greg and his love and everything it meant. It filled him, surrounded him, made him feel whole and wanted . And that was huge, especially now. Especially today .

Greg’s arms wrapped gently around his waist and pulled him closer, and that feeling—that feeling of being whole and wanted and loved—suddenly seemed more , deeper, amplified. Allen closed his eyes, slid his hands up around to the back of Greg’s neck, and lowered his head to rest on Greg’s shoulder. And as the lyrics continued with their soft piano accompaniment, Greg began to sway them to the music, humming along quietly and occasionally pressing kisses to Allen’s temple.

The song was too short, the final notes fading into silence after only a few minutes, but Greg kept them swaying softly, and he started humming some other tune, an older melody that Allen also didn’t recognize right away. But that didn’t matter. What really mattered was how comfortable it felt being in his husband’s arms, knowing without a doubt—without his brain even trying to convince him otherwise—that he was loved.

Nothing meant more in that moment.

Greg’s swaying finally slowed and stopped, and Greg straightened up just enough and brought one hand around to cup Allen’s cheek and tilt his chin back. Allen did as he had earlier, leaning slightly into Greg’s touch, and this time, when Greg said his whispered “I love you, darling,” Allen saw a glint of tears in the corners of Greg’s eyes.

They came together in another soft kiss, and he felt Greg smile into him. When he pulled back, he looked up at his husband and lifted his eyebrows. Greg was still smiling but was also shaking his head almost imperceptibly as his eyes seemed to study Allen’s expression.

“What?” Allen asked quietly.

He swore he saw Greg’s cheeks flush, even in the dim firelight, and Greg ducked his head for a second before looking back up and letting his hand slip down to Allen’s upper arm .

“You. You’re just... so beautiful,” Greg said. “And I think maybe I don’t tell you that enough.”

A warm shiver coursed through Allen then, and he blinked and then closed his eyes briefly as the tears he’d been holding back finally escaped.

“Ah, my love. My sweet, beautiful husband.” Greg’s lips brushed against one cheek and then the other, kissing away his tears, and then Greg pulled Allen up against him and wrapped him up in another wonderful, warm embrace.

God, it felt good. He felt so good. So much better. At least in this moment. It was a moment he wished could last forever, for always, because here in this moment, he felt safe from everything that he’d been battling with for the last few weeks. There was no doubt and no uncertainty, and the voice in his head—his voice—telling him that he wasn’t worthy of any love, of his husband’s love, faded until it was nearly inaudible. Just whispers somewhere far off in the background.

He breathed in Greg’s scent as he rested his head in the crook of Greg’s neck, and the strong hands holding him began gentle strokes up and down his back again. And there was more of everything: more love, more comfort, more of that feeling of safety. He sighed deeply and then straightened up as Greg’s hands shifted down to his lower back and then to his hips.

Tilting his head back slightly, Allen met his husband’s gaze, now filled with something else too, and that heat he’d felt earlier flared back to life when Greg’s eyes seemed to darken. Greg bent down, and Allen stretched up, and their lips met again, their mouths moving in tandem and their tongues dancing. Greg broke away first to trail an indistinct path of slow, open-mouthed kisses downward to Allen’s jaw and then to that sensitive spot where his neck met his collarbone. A quiet moan rumbled through Allen’s chest as Greg continued, his kisses sending more heat straight to Allen’s groin.

“Mmm, darling, let me... put out the fire... and then...” Greg spoke softly between kisses, but then he seemed to get distracted as Allen moaned again and slid one hand down to Greg’s chest, palm open and splayed.

“And then?”

“Mmm. And then...” Greg straightened and reached up to cover Allen’s hand with his own. Then he lowered his mouth to place the gentlest of kisses on Allen’s forehead. “Let me take care of you.”

The familiar words—words Greg had been telling him for over thirty years now—rippled through him, and he closed his eyes again, nodded, and pressed his hand into his husband’s chest. He could almost feel Greg’s heart beating fast, just like his own, and, one more time, he leaned up against Greg and let his husband’s solidness support him.

Something felt different this time, despite the familiarity of it all. And as he watched Greg move away a moment later to put out the fire, Allen tried to figure out what that was. But his mind wasn’t quite in step and his body was too distracted, and he just felt so overwhelmingly comfortable in the moment—in the knowledge that Greg loved him fully, completely, unconditionally. So he gave up trying to find an answer.

When they stepped back inside the cabin a few minutes later, Greg led Allen straight into the bedroom. He then kissed Allen’s cheek and excused himself for a moment to turn off all the lights and make sure everything was put away so they wouldn’t have to be bothered afterward.

Allen moved to the bed but didn’t sit. Instead, he stared across the dimly lit bedroom and out the large window on the opposite side. The view was similar to what they’d had out by the firepit—darkness over the water with the lights from the small town on Lopez Island just barely visible. The lights flickered slightly as he studied them, and Allen found the view almost mesmerizing. He hadn’t even realized Greg had returned until two arms slipped around his waist and a warm body pressed up against his back.

“Mmm, ready for bed, darling?” Greg asked, his voice both rough and soft at the same time and his lips now grazing Allen’s neck.

Desire sparked in Allen’s chest, and he felt it as a brightening of everything around him, a need—urgent and yet languid. All these contradictory things that somehow still made perfect sense to him. He closed his eyes as one of Greg’s hands teased under his T-shirt and ran along his stomach and then upward, just a little, just a hint.

“God,” he breathed, and he leaned back into Greg, his heart stuttering in his chest. This was what it felt like to be loved. He knew this. He’d known this for so long.

“You feel so good. I love touching you,” Greg murmured, his breath still hot against Allen’s neck and his hand now running in long, slow strokes back and forth just above the waistband of Allen’s jeans. “May I... keep going?” Greg’s hand moved upward again, and Allen moaned with want and need and something else as the slow move sent waves of pleasure rippling through him.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good. Just tell me what you want tonight, darling.”

The words sent another familiar flutter through his chest, and Allen felt his body shudder with need. He breathed deeply again as Greg continued a gentle exploration with his hands and lips, maybe waiting for Allen to reply, or maybe just moving forward with what he already knew Allen would love.

And he did. He loved it. The soft touches. The lingering kisses. The light fingertips grazing through his chest hair and over his sensitive nipples. The sounds in the room—a mixture of his own moans and Greg’s quiet affirmations.

I love you.

God, Allen, when you make that sound . . .

Ah, darling, you feel so good.

Slowly, Greg undressed both of them down to their briefs, taking his time. Allen had mostly kept his hands to himself as Greg had explored everywhere he knew Allen loved to be touched. But when they settled on the bed together a moment later, Greg resting over Allen with one knee wedged between his legs, Allen found himself reaching out, running his fingers up Greg’s solid chest, letting his thumbs brush over Greg’s nipples.

Greg groaned and lowered his head to Allen’s shoulder with a shuddering breath. “God, that’s good.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Allen agreed, and he continued, palms smoothing up and down Greg’s chest, then his back, then his arms, all while Greg fluttered kisses along his collarbone and up his neck and along his jawline. Heat and need burned deeper in his belly as he felt Greg’s arousal pressing against his thigh, throbbing every time Greg rocked against him or moaned or trembled.

Above him, Greg shifted to prop himself up on one elbow and then paused to look down at Allen. Through half-lidded eyes, Allen watched as Greg’s expression softened, intense desire and need giving way to love and something else. Joy maybe? Allen blew out a short breath, and then Greg smiled so tenderly and lowered his mouth again, their lips meeting in a much slower, gentler kiss.

Allen’s hands slid around to Greg’s back and then lower, slipping underneath Greg’s briefs to grip Greg’s backside. Heat rushed through Allen as his erection stiffened and pulsed with need, and he squeezed firmly and lifted his hips up at the same time, craving more pressure, more friction. They both broke their kiss, breathing hard, and Allen let out a rough moan, the sound rumbling deep in the back of his throat.

“God, that’s sexy,” Greg rasped. “I want to hear it again.”

Allen huffed a weak laugh; he’d never thought of himself or any of the sounds he made as sexy, even when they were younger. Still, it was something Greg hadn’t ever hesitated to tell him—not then and not now. And though he was pretty sure he’d never actually feel sexy, his husband’s words never failed to ignite an even deeper desire in him or to make him feel loved and wanted.

Greg’s lips captured his suddenly, this kiss hungrier and needy, and at the same time, Greg’s free hand slipped down between them, teasing under Allen’s briefs with sureness and confidence. Allen’s hard shaft ached with the need to be touched, and when Greg finally stroked firmly down his length and then grasped him around his base, Allen whimpered and broke the kiss with a gasp, screwing his eyes shut and pressing his head back into his pillow.

“Ahh, that was also sexy,” Greg said, his voice deep and rough, “but... not quite the same.” Greg’s breath was hot against Allen’s throat, and when he trailed a path of wet kisses downward, the touch seemed to leave Allen’s skin burning, making Allen ache with an even greater need. It was all heat and pleasure and some intensity that Allen hadn’t felt in a while. And it was incredible. Everything.

And this time, when Greg’s tongue flicked across Allen’s nipple and tendrils of heat and tingling shot all the way down to Allen’s toes, he did moan in a way that was much closer to that first moan—deep, thready, and rough.

“God, yeah, that’s it,” Greg said as he moved lower with his hot mouth and kisses. Greg rocked against him again with a moan of his own and began stroking Allen’s hard shaft, the rhythm slow and deliberate .

A hazy pleasure surrounded Allen, his breaths beginning to come in faster pants and his heart racing. Out of a deep need to hit some new higher edge, he gripped Greg’s backside with both hands again, a little harder even, and pressed Greg down into him as he thrust up into Greg’s hand. God, it was good, that tightness growing deep inside him, coiling up, demanding to be let out.

“Close, I’m—I’m close,” Allen panted. “But god, I want...” He trailed off and pushed his hands a little lower, dragging Greg’s briefs down.

He knew what he wanted tonight, and it was simple. He just wanted his husband’s naked body pressed against his own. He wanted to feel Greg’s weight over him, their shafts rubbing together, Greg’s hand pleasuring them both. He wanted to come hard and then be held in his husband’s arms, where he felt safe and loved and whole.

And maybe, just maybe, the feeling would carry over, last longer than a moment, help him to get back to something closer to normal. Something not so broken.

“. . . I want you naked, now,” he finished, his voice husky and deep as he slid his hands around to push Greg’s briefs even lower in front as well, freeing his straining erection.

Greg inhaled sharply as though in relief and closed his eyes for a second. Then he released Allen’s shaft and shifted on the bed so he could slip his briefs all the way off. He tossed them to the ground with the rest of their clothes and then settled again so he was kneeling on the bed next to Allen, his eyes dark with desire as his gaze drifted up and down Allen’s body.

“And now me too. Finish undressing me too,” Allen said when Greg’s eyes stopped on his.

Another of those warm shivers coursed through him as Greg groaned quietly, then nodded and reached out to set one hand on Allen’s stomach, palm flat. And Allen closed his eyes and breathed deeply as Greg took his time again, his hands smoothing over Allen’s stomach in long, soft strokes. The bed shifted, and Allen felt Greg’s fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, teasing them down just an inch. A warm softness brushed against his exposed hip, and Allen sucked in a breath and opened his eyes halfway to see Greg bent over him, inching his briefs down, fluttering kisses along every bit of newly exposed skin.

“God, yes,” Allen moaned, and he brought one hand up and ran it along Greg’s shoulder, up his neck, and into his hair.

Greg continued, slowly working Allen’s briefs down until his aching erection was no longer confined within the restrictive cotton. And Allen’s heart pounded in his chest when Greg paused to graze his lips lightly around the tip of Allen’s shaft, just barely touching him.

It was exquisite, and he closed his eyes again and groaned as his erection twitched hard. “God, Greg...”

“Hmm?”

He felt the vibration of the soft hum against the base of his shaft just before Greg pressed another kiss there—warm, loving, and tender, and it stoked the aching desire burning deep in his chest. “God, please, Greg. I need you. Now.”

That was all he had to say. Greg finished undressing him without any more detours or distractions, and a short moment later, Greg settled so he was straddling Allen’s thighs, as though he knew exactly what Allen wanted and how he wanted it.

Greg bent down to press a kiss to Allen’s lips, and when they parted, he straightened up, running both of his hands over Allen’s chest and stomach, and asked, “Just like this, darling?” He continued lower with one hand until he positioned their rigid, hot shafts together and took both of them in his fist, his fingers wrapping around them and holding them together .

“Yes, yes, just like that.” Allen hissed out a short breath and lifted both hands to rest on Greg’s thighs as Greg started to stroke them both together. “Faster though. Just a little.” His hands ran up to Greg’s hips and then around to grip his backside.

Then everything started to blur together as Allen let himself go, let himself be pleasured by his husband. It was warm and hot and bright, every stroke bringing him closer and closer to that edge. He was vaguely aware of Greg’s free hand coming to rest on his chest and then over along his side as Greg leaned in and covered Allen’s lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but one filled with love too, and Allen let out another low, rough moan as he arched his back, needing to relieve the pressure and tightening. Needing his release. His hands moved to Greg’s hips, and he flexed his fingers into Greg’s skin as he felt everything start to converge.

Greg sat back up, his hand settling on Allen’s hip, applying some type of counterpressure, and Allen moaned and arched again, then thrust up into Greg’s hand.

“God, I—I can’t—I’m so close. Ahh, Greg, are—are you too?”

Greg grunted, his rhythm faltering slightly, and his hand pressed into Allen’s hip again. Then his breath was hot against Allen’s cheek. “Yes, yes, my love. Come now,” Greg murmured. “Come with me now.”

The whispered words sent a final jolt of heat and tingling through him, and Allen cried out Greg’s name with his release. His shaft stiffened and pulsed hard, and a wet, sticky warmth hit his stomach. At the same time, Greg’s movement stilled on top of him as Greg muffled a groan into his shoulder.

He was spent and out of breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to steady himself. But also, he was completely sated, his body buzzing and trembling and full and relaxed.

Greg seemed the same, breathing hard but unable to move, his hand still wrapped loosely around their shafts. Greg was the first to speak, his lips brushing against Allen’s neck. “Mmm, ahh, you...” He paused and kissed Allen’s skin, lingering lazily for a moment. “...you’re so perfect. So beautiful. Mmm, I could just...” Slowly, Greg released them, his hand caressing down Allen’s thigh as he shifted to settle on the bed, his weight still partially over Allen. Kisses feathered on Allen’s neck and then up to his jaw and his lips and his cheeks. “I could just stay here with you forever,” Greg whispered. “Just like this. You and me. Forever.”

Allen couldn’t respond except to hum in agreement. God, he just felt... so, so good. He closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, and just as he’d wanted and hoped for, Greg’s lips found his again. The kiss was longer this time, deepening briefly before Greg pulled back and rested his forehead against Allen’s.

“Let me help you clean up, darling? We can take a quick shower together, and then I’ll hold you so you can rest?”

“That would be perfect,” he said, and though the words were confident, his voice still seemed to tremble. He finally opened his eyes and looked up to see Greg’s soft, kind expression, and he lifted a hand to cup Greg’s cheek. “I love you. Thank you for today, for tonight. For always.”

Greg blinked slowly as he gave a small nod and a half-smile so full of love. “Thank you for being here with me,” he said quietly. Then he pressed another kiss to Allen’s lips, and when they parted, Allen swore he saw tears glistening in Greg’s eyes.