Chapter Nine

“When I asked what you wanted to do now,” Tristan said. “I was thinking of a job. Keep your fire burning but we need to put the ice cream in the freezer.”

“You better do that. I’ll melt it.”

Tristan laughed. “Do you want to find work as an accountant or do you have your heart set on something else?”

“I always had my heart set on looking after penguins but realistically, I’m fine with what I do. I’m good with numbers. There’s always a need for accountants. I like things to balance, I like things to be fair and I can work in almost any industry. I can offer advice on choosing the right business structure, how to minimise unnecessary tax expenditure and forecast cash flow. I did my job well. I can find another.” Heath took out more boxes of condoms. “Not sure you bought enough.”

Tristan lifted another bag onto the table. “I don’t think you need to worry. Look in here.”

“Oh my God. How many packs did you actually buy?”

Tristan grinned as Heath stacked them up.

“They do go off, you know.” Heath shot him a glance. “Degrade, decay… I’d hate to get pregnant.”

Tristan gaped at him.

“You’ve obviously not heard of Mpreg.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A romance genre where men can have babies.”

“Oh my God. That’s a thing?”

“Yes, but fiction obviously.”

“Right. Okay, well I had the assistant check the use-by dates on every packet.”

Heath looked at him in horror. “Really?”

“I checked them.”

“Bet you didn’t.”

Tristan laughed. “We’ll just have to use them quickly. Especially the Christmas-themed ones.”

“There are Christmas-themed condoms? What are they like? Do they play Little Donkey or When Santa Got Stuck Up The Chimney? ”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

Once they’d finished putting the food away, Tristan extracted one of the condoms from a box. “Like to check if they’re acceptable.”

Heath gulped. “Now?”

Tristan’s heart thumped. Yes, now. Right now. He was hard thinking about it. But he made himself shrug.

“Is it lubricated for my pleasure?” Heath asked.

“For a swamp monster’s pleasure. I had to search for that.”

Heath smiled. “So are you going to strip for me?”

“Absolutely.”

Heath flopped onto the couch and took out his phone.

“God, don’t film me.”

“I’m just going to provide the music courtesy of The Backstreet Boys rather than Little Donkey . Will you stop dancing if I blink?”

“Uh huh.”

Heath whined. “I should have gone for not smiling rather than not blinking. The music is I Want It That Way. Not sure about the words though.”

Tristan took off his shoes and socks. “We’re not breaking up.”

The music filled the room and Tristan began to move. He felt uncomfortable. This wasn’t something he’d ever done before, but Heath’s wide-eyed, unblinking stare kept him moving and gradually he lost his inhibitions. He rolled his hips, looked over his shoulder, stuck out his arse, and piece by piece began to remove his clothing. Heath’s mouth had fallen open.

“Turn your back on me again,” Heath said.

“You like my arse?”

“I love your arse but I need to blink.”

Tristan laughed. He was in just his boxers now and he sidled over to the couch and straddled Heath, planting his knees either side of his thighs, still swaying to the music. Tristan licked his lips and as he stared into Heath’s eyes, he ran his hand down his bare chest before palming his erection through his underwear.

“Oh God,” Heath muttered. “I don’t want to blink. I don’t want to miss a second but my eyes…Arrghgh.” He blinked. “I didn’t do that. You thought I did, but I didn’t.”

Tristan stroked Heath’s face, then leaned in so their mouths were a breath apart. He intended to give Heath just one quick kiss before he moved back but the moment their lips touched, he fell into bliss. Heath moved his hands to Tristan’s arse, then into the back of his boxers and with his fingers in the seam of his arse, pulled him in close as their tongues tangled.

Just lust. But it felt like more. They were chest to chest, hands stroking, caressing and still they kissed. Tristan moved one hand to the back of Heath’s neck as their tongues pushed deeper and his head swam with the pleasure of it, white stars exploding behind his closed eyes.

Tristan slipped one leg between Heath’s and shuffled them both until he was lying half on top of him, their erections pressing together. He pushed his fingers under Heath’s T-shirt, exploring his ribs, making him quietly laugh and shiver at the same time. Getting naked took little effort, their clothes were kicked away to the floor. Heath was now on top of Tristan, holding his face, rubbing his thumbs down the line of his jaw and still kissing him as if something awful would happen if he stopped.

Heath had one knee pressed between Tristan’s legs, the other under his thigh pushing his leg up. As Tristan’s brain changed gear, the kissing faltered for a moment. Tristan had assumed he’d fuck Heath, but maybe that wasn’t what Heath had in mind. He pulled back a little. It was hard to think straight when all he could see was Heath looking dazed and glassy-eyed, and all he could think about was this, about Heath and what they were doing to each other.

“You need a condom and lube,” Heath blurted. “You had one. Where is it? Have you lost it?”

Tristan dragged himself back from the brink. He pushed to his feet and staggered to the table. He could feel Heath right behind him.

“For me or you?” Tristan asked with his back towards him.

“I like it either way.”

Tristan turned and smiled. “So do I.”

He rolled a bright green condom down his cock and Heath spluttered.

“Christmas special,” Tristan said. “Mint flavoured. Are you trying not to laugh?”

“Given up trying to do anything but say yes.” Heath swept the boxes of condoms off the table, jumped up to sit on it, then lay back.

Tristan swallowed hard. “There’s a bed a few metres away.”

“Too far to walk.”

“We have to eat at this table.”

“We haven’t yet.”

“Fabian has to eat at this table.” He paused, then said again, “Fabian has to eat at this table.” He used the same tone of voice as McCauley Culkin in Home Alone when he’d said—twice — ‘ I made my family disappear .’ Didn’t do the eyebrow wiggle, though Tristan thought about it.

Heath laughed. “Hello, Kevin! No eyebrow wiggle?”

Tristan was glad Heath got it.

“The table’s easy to wash. Fabian will never know. Or you could tell him later at some inappropriate moment.” Heath sat up to pull him in for a kiss, then taking Tristan with him, he lay back and lifted his legs. There was just a hint of vulnerability in his face that touched something inside Tristan. He stared into Heath’s eyes and along with a surge of possessiveness, felt a need to protect him, to never hurt him because Heath had been hurt too.

He knew this was just the excitement of a first attraction, he’d only just met him, he knew virtually nothing about Heath apart from the fact that he was as hot as hell and an accountant, but telling himself this was just lust wasn’t working. Whenever he thought that, a little voice in his head told him he was lying. Whatever this was, it was different. They weren’t just messing about, making each other come, this was…bigger than that.

“Lube.” Heath held out his hand but Tristan shook his head.

“Let me.”

He was slow and careful and only when he was sure Heath was ready, after Heath had resorted to pleading with him, then begging him, then cursing him, did he position himself with his cockhead against the entrance to Heath’s body.

“If this was ‘find your way through the maze to the treasure’, you didn’t break any records.” Heath gulped air, his eyes wide.

“Still found the treasure…” Tristan slid into him. One long, slow, glorious slide into tight, slick heat until he could go no further. “Oh God.” He’d never penetrated anyone quite like that before. He tended to wait, make sure… Fuuuuck. He lowered his forehead to Heath’s and exhaled shakily. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean—sorry? You’re Christmas-green, lubricated for my pleasure and it feels very pleasurable. No complaints from me.”

Tristan chuckled. “You feel…so good. Oh God, Heath. Really, really good.”

Muscles clamped around his cock and Tristan groaned. “Really, really, really good.”

When Tristan pulled back, Heath wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself. Tristan willed his balls to stay calm and took a couple of deep breaths. Didn’t help. He felt jittery, as if he were a teenager doing this for the first time. He wanted to make this perfect for both of them.

“This is a disturbingly long pause,” Heath whispered. “Have you forgotten how this works? Pull back without coming all the way out, unless you’re an expert, then push in again. Then repeat. Endlessly. Think you’ll find that results in a happy ending for us both.”

Tristan turned his laugh into a growl. He began slowly, gritting his teeth as he fought not to immediately empty himself into Heath. But his attempts at distraction failed because somehow Heath’s body sucked at his cock as he pulled out and tightened around him as he pushed in. How was he supposed to resist? It was impossible.

Heath spread his hands over Tristan’s chest, teased his nipples, and Tristan’s control slipped. He flexed his hips and drove into him, knew he was brushing his prostate by the cries coming from Heath’s mouth. His balls slapped noisily at Heath’s taut backside and Heath began to lift up into Tristan’s shunts. Tristan was moving fast but somehow moved faster. So good. Heath’s breathing was short and choppy, one hand jacking himself off, the other gripping Tristan’s shoulder, anchoring them both.

The rhythm was manic, but the powerful sensations sweeping through his body were so pleasurably overwhelming that Tristan could only keep going. His head ached, his balls throbbed and he loved it. I fucking love it! Heath came with a loud cry, jetting ropes of come over his belly. The anticipatory rush rampaged through Tristan’s body, soared up his legs, bolted the length of his spine and he came too, his climax drawn on by Heath’s.

He pulled Heath up into his arms and held him tight with Heath’s legs wrapped around him, while their hearts and breathing calmed. They kissed each other down from the high. Tristan trembled at the thought that he might never have known Heath, that the wrong man might have said yes. He felt as if he’d been pulled back from the edge of a precipice. It was like watching one of those TikTok clips of people on the verge of disaster, on the top of a building, the edge of a chasm, the top of a waterfall… ones he could barely stand to watch and yet had to finish watching once he’d started.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Tristan whispered. “What the fuck was that idiot thinking?”

“I told you. I’m too negative,” Heath whispered.

“Seriously? Could that possibly be enough of a reason?”

Heath pressed his face into Tristan’s shoulder. “I did tend to say no more than yes.”

“That’s because you weren’t being asked to say yes by the right person.”

Heath sucked in a noisy breath.

“Do you like me?” Tristan whispered.

“Yes.”

“Can you forgive me for the mess the flat was in when you arrived?”

“Umm. Yes.”

“Want to go on top next time?”

Heath grinned. “Yes.”

“See? You’re not negative at all.”

“You make it easy to be positive. So…you want me?”

“A definite yes. You’re mine,” he whispered in Heath’s ear, and felt the hitch in his breath.