Chapter 35

"How do I look?" Darcy asks for the umpteenth time, and receives the same answer.

"Absolutely gorgeous."

He flashes his bright green eyes at me and I take a step closer, talking low into his ear. "If you ask me one more time, I'll show you how gorgeous, and neither of us will be going to this wedding."

I watch the adorable flush of red spread from under the collar of his shirt, up his neck, and across his face. I have to step away as I'm in danger of acting on my words and I want to go to this wedding, I want to show Darcy the surprise I've planned for later.

"That wasn't fair," he protests.

"Neither is seeing your handsome face on display twenty-four seven, but some of us just have to bear the burden of that."

He laughs, and is about to say something no doubt sassy in return, when my mum walks into the front room where we've been waiting.

"I think the taxi's here," she says, a second before I hear the beep of the horn announcing its arrival.

"You boys have fun then." She hugs me and then holds out her arms for Darcy, and he allows himself a hug from her, too. I roll my eyes at the wink she gives me over his shoulder and pick up the small bag I have ready.

"What's that?" Darcy asks as he spots it.

"A surprise. I'll tell you later." I keep my face deadpan and receive a frown in return. Too bad. He'll have to wait.

Darcy is dumbstruck as the taxi drops us off at the entrance to Wortley Hall. He stands there staring at the elegant stone fa?ade of the former stately home. I'm not far behind him. I think it's stunning as well. Justin and Mark picked a beautiful place to hold their wedding.

I take hold of his hand, and we walk up the steps. Inside the foyer, a big sign directs wedding guests to a spacious room with several tables and a large dance floor. Beyond, I can see several foldback doors opening out into the gardens. There are a couple of dozen people milling about, but I pull Darcy past all of that and over to the front desk.

I try not to look at his face as I check us in, but I can feel him bubbling beside me. I ignore his attempts at questions as I drag him up the stairs to the room I've booked for us. I wait until we're in the room and have put down my bag.

"Surprise, honey," I say, and stalk my way towards him, grasping his hips and pulling him close, planting a soft kiss to his lips.

"For us?" He looks around the room.

"For us." I punctuate my words with kisses. "No parents." Kiss. "No small bed." Kiss. "No one to disturb us."

"It's perfect." He gives me his sassiest smile and puts his arms round my neck, kissing me back. I move my hands to cup his ass, lifting him up, and he wraps his legs around my waist. I walk him to the bed and place him on it, following him down so I'm covering his body.

"Shouldn't we be attending a wedding?" he asks, when we briefly pause our kissing a short time later.

"We have a few minutes," I reply, fusing my lips to his once more and seeking his tongue.

We make it down to the wedding in time, even if our suits do look slightly crumpled and our lips are reddened from kissing. Luckily, no one is paying us any attention and we slip into the garden, finding a space towards the back of the chairs that are arranged in lines. A carpeted aisle runs between the two sets of chairs, leading to an archway that's bowing under the weight of the roses growing up it.

We only have a few minutes to wait before I see Justin stand at the end of the aisle, looking smart in a white suit and pink shirt. The whole decor is pink and white. I hadn't noticed the cellist seated to one side, until they start playing, and we all rise as the opening notes of "Perfect" drift over the garden, mixing with the heady scent of the roses. Darcy seeks my hand and I interlace our fingers.

The first thing I notice of Mark's arrival is the joy and love that lights up Justin's face. I don't know if Darcy sees it too, but he gives my hand a squeeze and I return it. We turn to see Mark in a pink suit, which looks fabulous on him, being accompanied down the aisle by an older gentleman who I assume could be his father.

Two young boys and a girl, also dressed in pink and white, follow them, each carrying a small posy of flowers. There's an array of very proud looking parents watching them, calling them to their sides as they reach the end of the aisle.

The celebrant makes her introductions and opening speech, and we're instructed to sit. I pull Darcy's hand into my lap, wrapping my other hand round it as we watch Justin and Mark declare their love and commitment to each other, each having written their own vows.

I have attended a few weddings before, mostly of cousins and other distant relatives, and each one has been unique in its own way, but this one seems more special to me. It might be because I feel it's more relevant to me, being a same-sex couple. Or it could be because I now have someone in my life who I would make that commitment to. The thought hits me out of the blue, and now it's taken hold in my head and my heart. I know it's true. I would like to be married to Darcy one day. I look at him, and he's watching Mark and Justin with a rapt expression on his face. He must have sensed I was watching him, and he turns to look at me. His smile is soft, and I feel the need to taste it with a gentle kiss.

After the ceremony, we congratulate Justin and Mark and are hugged within an inch of our lives, then we're shown to our seats at a table, along with some of their other friends. Food is brought, wine flows, and the conversation is cheerful. We talk easily with the people we're seated with and I enjoy myself. We're treated to an array of speeches from the best man, Justin's brother, and from the family on both sides, all of whom seem very accepting of Justin and Mark, though I suspect anyone who isn't wouldn't have been invited. The speeches make us laugh with the obligatory embarrassments, and make us ooh and ahh with the incredible love shown. Then champagne is handed round, and the family takes turns toasting them and we all join in. Then Justin stands, pulling Mark up with him.

"When Mark agreed to marry me, he made one condition."

He pauses to the heckles of "only one?" and a few other shouts, including several rude words. He waits for the laughter to die down.

"The condition was that he wanted a proper first dance. So we've been taking lessons."

A few whoops and cheers along with some laughs that they take good-naturedly. Justin again waits for quiet before continuing.

"Some of you might have noticed that our city hosted the national ballroom championships last weekend. Some of you might have seen the news reports that for the first time a same-sex couple danced at the top level in the competition. We're pleased to tell you that it was our dance teacher, and we're happy to have him and his partner here today."

Justin gestures over to our table and then starts clapping. "Darcy, stand up," he shouts, and Darcy, looking slightly embarrassed, stands and drags me up with him. We sit again, and are met with a round of questions from our table occupants along the lines of:

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"How exciting."

"I've always wanted to dance."

The hubbub dies down again and Justin says, "Of course, if we fall on our faces, it's all his fault." The room erupts again, and Justin leads Mark onto the dance floor. Everyone rises and follows them, ringing the area and leaving enough room for them to dance.

They wait for the room to go quiet before the music begins. The familiar sounds of "Love is in the Air" ring through the room and they start. They look fantastic together and the applause they receive is well deserved. Then they ask for the song to be played through again so we can all join in.

We don't leave the dance floor for another few hours, except for water or a bit more champagne. We dance with Justin and Mark, various members of their families, and friends. But mostly we dance with each other. Just enjoying ourselves, playing with some of the swing moves we've been practising.

The reception will be going on for a good while yet, as everyone is still going strong. When they bring out the buffet later, I turn to Darcy.

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

His enthusiastic nod is all the encouragement I need.

Inside the room I kiss him slowly. As much as I've been waiting for this moment, I want to take my time. I want to savour every minute.

I unbutton his jacket and slip it off his shoulders. He goes to unbutton his shirt, but I put my hands on his.

"No, honey," I say softly. "I want to undress you."

I take off my jacket, and my shoes and socks, and reach for my phone to play some music. Of course, I've created a playlist for the occasion.

I kneel in front of him and ask him to lift each foot in turn so I can remove his shoes and socks. Then I rise and lead him over to stand near the bed.

I slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers. I run my fingers up his chest and cup my hands round his jaw, tasting his lips, biting them gently before sliding my mouth down to place a row of kisses down his throat, humming my approval as he tips his head back to expose it more for me. I withdraw slightly, keeping my eyes on him as I undo my own shirt and take it off.

I return to studiously sucking marks on his neck, pulling his shirt down and trapping his arms as I kiss my way along his shoulder. I notice the way his breath hitches when I have him held fast and I file that information away for the future. My cock is certainly on board with that idea and responds with a twitch.

"Do you like that?" I ask, looking back at him, seeing the answer in his heavy, lust-filled eyes. I have a sudden image of him spread out and restrained for me and it's all I can do not to rip the rest of his clothes off and take him. I take a few breaths, mostly to stop the rush of blood that is making my dick want to act independently of what I have planned. I almost hear him whine when I pull his shirt all the way off.

I delicately cage my arms round him, wanting to feel his skin against mine, and I caress my hands up and down his spine. He wraps his arms around me as I sway my hips to the rhythm of the music, and he mirrors me, slow-dancing for the rest of the song.

As it finishes, I lead him back to the bed, trailing my hands down his skin, and tracing across his abs. I unbutton his trousers and slide them with his briefs down over his hips, asking for him to step out of them.

"Fuck. Honey, you look good." I feast my eyes on his erection. "Now get on the bed for me."

He sits down and moves backwards until he's laying back on the pillows.

I take off my trousers, giving Darcy a flash of my latest pair of lace shorts, before they join the rest of our clothes on the floor.

I crawl up the bed towards him, pecking kisses on his thighs, and sucking a mark on his hip. I continue up his body, applying my mouth to his chest, seeking out a nipple with my tongue. Darcy moans and stretches languidly beneath me. I transfer my tongue to his other nipple, feeling it harden at my touch, and his moans grow louder as I flick it with my tongue, nibbling it gently.

"Mmmm, that's good, babe." He stretches again, and his erection bounces against my chest, reminding me of its presence.

I work my way down his torso, following his faint treasure trail until I can hold the base of his cock and lap at the precum leaking from the end, savouring the taste.

"Tell me what you want," I say huskily, sitting back. "Tell me what you need."

"I want you," he says lazily.

"How do you want me?"

"I want you to fill me up." His voice deepens.

"That's it, honey. Keep talking." After weeks of hushed hand jobs and muffled blow jobs, I want to hear his voice.

"I want to feel you."

"Mmm, sounds good." I bend each of his legs in turn, placing a kiss to the inside of each knee. "Hold your knees, honey."

He brings his legs up to his chest, exposing himself to me. He looks perfect and wanton and I want to hear more. I reach for the lube, flipping the lid and coating my fingers.

"Where do you want to feel me?" I ask.

"In my hole."

"This hole?" I tap it with my finger, watching it contract as he jumps.

"Yes." He lets out a breathy whisper.

"I can't hear you." I rub my finger round his perfect pucker, feeling it respond to my touch, watching his struggle to voice anything.

"Y-yes. T-that hole." He pushes against my finger.

"It's a needy little hole, isn't it?" I tease his rim a bit more before breaching it with one finger, feeling it grip me as he almost sighs in relief. I start sliding my finger in and out.

"It needs more," he responds again.

"Does it? It's a greedy hole as well." I add a second finger, working them in and out, scissoring them to prep him slowly.

"Yes, it's a needy, greedy hole." His breaths come in short pants, and I work my fingers a little faster, in time to the thrusts he's pushing back on me. My cock is rock hard and aching at the sight of him thrusting back on my fingers. Precum stringing between the end and my stomach as it twitches every time he opens his mouth.

"What does it need?" I add a third finger, watching his abs contract with the feel of it.

"It needs dick, babe. It needs your dick." The last word said between clenched teeth as I hit his sweet spot.

"Can it take my dick?" I fucking hope so, as if I don't get in there soon, I'm going to come just watching him. It's as if something in him, some internal restraint, finally snaps and loosens his tongue.

"It can take your dick. I need it. My needy, greedy hole wants your dick. I want you to fill me, fill me so full. I want to still feel you next week. Please, babe, fuck me. Pleeease."

Seeing him spread, ready and begging for me, is almost more than I can take. I withdraw my fingers, enjoying one last glimpse of his hole opening and closing, grasping for something.

I flip the lube cap once more and smear some along my length and line up with his hole.

"You ready?" I ask as I nudge at his entrance.

"Pleeeease." He jerks his hips for emphasis. I push in slowly, checking that he's okay and I'm not hurting him, but his breathy whispers of "more, more, more" are my undoing. I thrust in deep.

"Ungh," he groans, and for a second I think I've hurt him, but then I see the smile on his face and the pretty flush of his cheeks.

I start moving rhythmically, unable to stop my hips. My need to speak takes over.

"Fuck, honey. I knew you'd feel good. You're the perfect fit. Your ass is just right. It's like your pretty little hole was made just for me. You were made for me."

I know I'm not going to last much longer, it's too exquisite and I've been waiting too long.

He arches off the bed, changing the angle slightly. "Oh, fuck babe, I'm going to come." His voice coming in short breaths, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Yes, do it, honey." I can't stop relentlessly pounding, the slap of my balls against him sending tingles down my spine. I'm close to the edge, holding on for as long as I can.

"Oh fuck! Nick!" He shouts as his body jerks once more and his release spurts across his chest, his hole tightening around me even more, gripping me as his orgasm shudders through him. That's all it takes to tip me over the precipice I'd been clinging to, and my own orgasm rips through me with an intensity that leaves me speechless.

It takes a few minutes for me to regain enough awareness to slide my deflating cock out of him.

I know we need to clean up, but for now I just want to crawl up the bed to lie by his side. His eyes are closed and he isn't moving and I think that something is wrong.

"D, honey?" I say softly, trying not to show the concern that starts bubbling up in me, thinking that I'd hurt him or that he thinks what we did was wrong.

"I was just checking I was still alive." He blinks his eyes open and turns his head towards me, his smile easing the constriction that has been tightening around my chest. "I wouldn't have believed I could take that much pleasure, happiness, and love all in one go."

He turns onto his side to face me. "Unless I have died and you're, like, some fucking glorious angel." He reaches out his hand and traces his fingers down my face, so tenderly that my heart swells and threatens to burst through the confines of my ribs.

"Kiss me angel," he whispers, and I do.