Wallflowers

ALLFLOWERS

…Ryan walked into St. Ignatius church. He knew he was late for

Brian and Anne’s wedding rehearsal, but there was little he could do
about it. His flight had been delayed by more than four hours and,
frankly, he was lucky to have made it here at all.

At least he wasn’t the best man, just one of four ushers to stand

with Brian, frat brothers all of them.

He looked to the front of the church, grinning at Brian. He would

have recognized the man anywhere. Sure, Brian had put on some
weight, but he still looked pretty much just as he had when they’d
been in Phi Kappa Epislon together.

Next to Brian was a man he didn’t know, but guessed was Anne’s

brother, the best man. And next to him the three other ushers. Derek,
Will, and DJ.

Daniel James Delout. Fuck, the man looked good.
Not that Ryan was biased or anything. In fact it would have been

easier if DJ was the one with the extra weight or something, anything
to take away from the blond, blue-eyed good looks.

They’d had a thing back in college. Okay, it had been more than a

thing, but he’d been so scared back then, refusing to come out, worried
all the time that someone would discover their secret.

He thought he’d put it behind him, thought that seven years was

more than enough time to erase the old feelings. He’d thought wrong.
The minute he saw DJ his belly clenched, and his heartbeat sped into a
rapid tattoo.

If Brian hadn’t already caught sight of him and started waving for

him to come up and join the wedding party, Ryan might have slipped
out and skipped the rehearsal altogether…

WALLFLOWERS

SEAN MICHAEL

MBER

UILL

RESS

LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

ALLFLOWERS

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-362-8

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

WALLFLOWERS

CHAPTER 1

Ryan walked into St. Ignatius church. He knew he was late for

Brian and Anne’s wedding rehearsal, but there was little he could
do about it. His flight had been delayed by more than four hours
and, frankly, he was lucky to have made it here at all.

At least he wasn’t the best man, just one of four ushers to stand

with Brian, frat brothers all of them.

He looked to the front of the church, grinning at Brian. He

would have recognized the man anywhere. Sure, Brian had put on
some weight, but he still looked pretty much just as he had when
they’d been in Phi Kappa Epislon together.

Next to Brian was a man he didn’t know, but guessed was

Anne’s brother, the best man. And next to him the three other
ushers. Derek, Will, and DJ.

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Daniel James Delout. Fuck, the man looked good.
Not that Ryan was biased or anything. In fact it would have

been easier if DJ was the one with the extra weight or something,
anything to take away from the blond, blue-eyed good looks.

They’d had a thing back in college. Okay, it had been more

than a thing, but he’d been so scared back then, refusing to come
out, worried all the time that someone would discover their secret.

He thought he’d put it behind him, thought that seven years

was more than enough time to erase the old feelings. He’d thought
wrong. The minute he saw DJ his belly clenched, and his heartbeat
sped into a rapid tattoo.

If Brian hadn’t already caught sight of him and started waving

for him to come up and join the wedding party, Ryan might have
slipped out and skipped the rehearsal altogether.

It was too late now, though, and he headed for the wedding

party, taking his place at the end, beside DJ. He aimed a quiet,
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” to the bride and groom.

“We got the text. No stress.” Anne was as pretty as a picture,

with a smile that would stop a clock. “Besides, DJ was in the same
pickle. Both of you stuck in Toronto; that stinks.”

He glanced over at DJ, surprised. There’s no way they could

have been on the same flight into town; he would have noticed the
man. DJ shrugged, but didn’t look over, just smiled a soft, almost
secretive grin.

Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.
He sighed and shot Anne a smile. If this had been anyone but

Brian, he would have found an excuse not to come. Now he was
wishing he hadn’t been able to get time away from the team or
something.

“Okay, DJ, is Walter going to be with you for the ceremony?”

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“He doesn’t have to be, but he is helpful.”
Oh wow. Ryan hadn’t expected to be as affected by DJ as he

was when  he saw the  man again,  but he really  hadn’t anticipated
the kick  in  his gut to  hear that DJ was with someone and  had  not
only  brought  the  guy,  but  Anne  was  offering  to  have  him  at  the
fucking ceremony.

“Brian?” Anne asked, turning to her husband-to-be.
“Honey, it’s your day. Is it going to bother you?”
Anne’s laugh rang out. “Well, it’s not like he’s going to pee on

the alter, he’s better trained than DJ.”

Ryan’s mouth dropped open at her comment. He’d walked into

fucking wonderland here.

Everyone else laughed, though, then DJ whistled. “Walter, get

your fuzzy butt over here.”

A beautiful, large golden retriever with a service dog harness

stood and headed right for DJ.

What?
WHAT?
“What?” The word shot out of Ryan’s mouth and it was

everything he could do not to clap his hand over his lips.

“Do you have a problem with dogs, man?” Brian looked about

as shocked as he could be.

“No, of course not, I just…” He looked, really looked, at DJ.
The man’s eyes were open, searching, but not landing on

anything for any time.

No.
No way.
Not DJ. The man was an architect, for fuck’s sake.
An artist.
Young.

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“I didn’t know,” he managed tightly.
Everyone looked around—talk about fucking awkward—and it

was DJ who broke the silence. “Yep. Now it’s out. I’m having a
torrid relationship with my seeing eye dog.”

Ryan chuckled. DJ always had had a crazy sense of humor.
Brian grinned, obviously back at ease after DJ’s words. “So,

the good part is that the groomsmen will all be standing up at the
front, so we don’t have to worry about DJ tripping over himself.”

DJ flipped Brian off.
Ryan wondered how long DJ had been blind, and how come

everyone but he seemed to know about it. Of course, no one but DJ
knew what the two of them had been to each other in college, so it
wasn’t like they’d have especially thought of him in connection to
DJ.

The rest of the rehearsal went on in a fairly business-like

manner, Brian saying more than once that he just wanted to get
through this so they could get to the rehearsal dinner already and
toss a few back.

Ryan found himself spending most of his time watching DJ.
The man was really with it, careful, quiet, but always smiling,

always listening.

Derek came up when it was over and gave him a man hug.

“Hey, dude. Creepy, huh?”

“What, the whole wedding thing?” Because Ryan wasn’t going

to comment on DJ being blind, not when he was still so
gobsmacked about it.

“God, yes. Brian’s like a puppy.”
Joining them, Will snorted. “Wait until it’s you. Riana and

me—we were stupid at first.”

“Yeah, but he’s always been like a puppy.” As Brian’s college

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friends standing up with him at the wedding, it was their job to
tease the shit out of him, right?

“Woof woof.” Derek grinned, nodded. “I swear, I’d heard

about DJ, but I didn’t get it until I saw him.”

“Nobody bothered to let me know.” Ryan reminded himself

again that no one but DJ knew they’d been an item. Hell, he still
wasn’t out. And God knew he and DJ hadn’t parted on the best of
terms, him refusing to come out, DJ refusing to keep lying.

“I heard from Will.” Derek pointed at the man.
Will shrugged. “I knew you two weren’t friends anymore. Hell,

it’s been going on a long time, I guess.”

“That’s gotta suck.” He couldn’t imagine going through it

himself. Shit, he couldn’t imagine his DJ going through it, either.
He found himself looking for the man.

DJ was sitting in the front row, by himself. Well, the dog was

there.

“Hey, Willie, Derek, see you guys at the restaurant, okay?”

Ryan clapped them on the back and went over to DJ. He couldn’t
not go.

DJ’s head tilted as he got closer. “Derek?”
“No, man. It’s Ryan.” He moved to stand next to DJ. “Can I

sit?”

“Absolutely. I’m supposed to ride with Derek to the restaurant.

He hasn’t left, has he?”

Ryan turned, just catching Derek on his way out with Will.

“Yeah. I guess he figured I’d take you. Which I will.” He sat next
to DJ, feeling the man’s warmth.

“Oh. Well, thank you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, I’m heading that way anyway.” And how weird

was this? Weirder because DJ was blind. Blind. Shit, he still

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couldn’t quite believe it.

“Toronto, huh?” DJ asked. At least one of them wasn’t tongue-

tied. “Where were you flying from?”

“Vancouver. You?”
DJ nodded. “I live on the West End, near Davie Village.”
“You what? Shit, we’re nearly neighbors.” That was something

else.

“Yeah? I moved there…three years ago? Once things started

getting harder.”

“What happened?” He supposed that was the question he really

wanted to know first.

“It’s genetic.” DJ shrugged. “They thought that I’d missed it,

but I was in trouble by the time I was in my mid-twenties. I can see
light and dark now, but that’ll be done in a year or two.”

“Jesus. That’s…it sucks.” He put his hand on DJ’s knee, his

instinct to comfort.

“Yeah. I wish I’d have known earlier. I would have looked at

more things.” DJ’s leg jerked a little under his touch.

Ryan took his hand away awkwardly. “I can’t imagine what it

must be like.”

“I have a good life. What about you? Are you married?

Happy?”

“Married? Me?” He laughed, though it was a little bitter. He

was gay and in the closet. No, he wasn’t married. He didn’t
suppose he ever would be. “There’s never been anyone else.” He
hadn’t meant to say that, but it was too late to take the words back.

“Oh.” DJ’s head tilted. “I’m sorry to hear that. You should

know, I’m out. Like completely out. If you don’t want to take me
to the restaurant…”

He envied DJ that courage. It was no wonder the man was

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dealing  with  the  blindness  with  such  aplomb—DJ  had  a  core  of
strength.  “I’m  not  abandoning  a  blind  man  in  a  church.  Besides,
why wouldn’t I take my old friend to the restaurant when everyone
else  is  already  gone?”  A  large  part  of  him  wished  he’d  said  he
didn’t care, wished he could say that.

“Absolutely right.” DJ stood. “Let’s go. I need to let Walter do

his business before I make him sit at supper.”

“He’s a beautiful dog.” As soon as the words were out of his

mouth he wanted to kick himself. Nice one, tell the blind guy his
dog looks good.

“He’s a shithead and he makes me laugh, every day.”
“Good, you’ve got a great laugh.” It seemed it was his day for

letting his mouth spew out every stupid thought in his head.

DJ chuckled. “You sound exhausted and stressed out.”
“I hate being stuck at the airport.” He stood and offered his

hand to DJ before realizing the man couldn’t see him.

“I hate flying.” DJ stood, bumped into him. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I should have gotten out of your way.” God,

he’d been thrown by DJ in the first place, even though he’d known
the man would be here, but with everything else, he was
feeling…so much. He took DJ’s hand and put it on his arm. “Is this
okay?”

“Thank you. Come on, Walter. Let’s go.” DJ seemed so easy in

his skin; it was absolutely insane.

It also made the man as sexy as ever. Maybe even sexier. That

confidence in himself, in who he was, had always appealed to
Ryan.

He headed out of the church with DJ and Walter, and sure

enough, the parking lot was deserted except for his rental. “I
haven’t even checked in at the hotel.” It had been straight here

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from Budget at the airport.

“Did you want to just go there?”
Ryan led them over to a grassy spot for the dog to do his

business. “I’m not opposed to ordering room service.” He didn’t
really feel like sitting in a restaurant where most everyone already
knew each other, had family or at least significant others there.
That decided it. “Yeah, I’ll text Brian a head’s up so they know we
didn’t get lost or anything.”

“Okay.” DJ could stand more quietly than anyone he’d ever

seen. Ever.

When the dog had done his business, Ryan took DJ’s arm again

and led him over to the car, opening the door for him. “Walter will
go in the back, right?”

“He will. He’s exceptional in the car.”
Ryan opened the back door and Walter jumped right in, settling

easily on the backseat. Huh. Cool.

Going around to driver’s side, he climbed in and programmed

in the hotel address into the GPS. He was pretty sure he knew the
way there, but it had been seven years since he’d lived here and
better safe than sorry. “How do you usually get around?”

“At home? I walk, mostly. If I need to go somewhere outside

my comfort zone, I hire a cab or my assistant goes with me. She’s
a neat woman, incredibly efficient. Her first grandson is due any
day, though, so I couldn’t ask her to come.” DJ shrugged. “I knew
you guys would be here.”

“Cool. Are you already checked in?” He hoped so, there wasn’t

any luggage for DJ.

“I am. I got a taxi from the airport and then the hotel hired me a

driver to here.” He smiled. “There are benefits to being special
needs sometimes.”

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“Like getting on an earlier flight when there’s a delay?”
“You know it.” DJ chuckled. “It’s a challenge, Walter in a huge

airport. They had incentive.”

Ryan chuckled; he would have liked to have seen that.
“You hear that, Walter? Ry’s laughing at us.”
The big dog lifted his head, woofed.
“I was just picturing the bitchy lady at my counter having to

deal with Walter.” He turned the car at the next right; it shouldn’t
be much farther.

“How’s the traffic? It sounds busy.”
“Yeah. I guess everyone’s going on the town on a Friday night.

Oh, here we are. Hold on.” He’d nearly missed the turn off and
wound up taking the corner too hard.

DJ banged his head against the window, loud enough that he

heard it.

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.” God, he felt like the world’s biggest

asshole.

“I’m cool. Did you make it?”
“I did. As long as I haven’t concussed you, we’re good.” He

pulled up in front of the hotel. There was valet parking. Sweet. He
was about done with having to cope with any sort of mode of
transportation.

“Good deal.” DJ’s fingers searched for the handle, and the valet

opened the door.

Ryan moved around the car, letting Walter out so the dog could

help DJ. Then he grabbed his bag out of the trunk and handed over
the keys to the attendant, pocketing the slip he was given.

“You want my arm, man?”
“Please. I’m in room one fifteen.”
He took DJ’s hand and put it on his arm. He liked having DJ

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touch him, and with Walter on DJ’s other side, it was clear the man
was blind so no one would think anything of it. “Why don’t you
join me for dinner. As an apology for thunking your head.”

DJ shook his head. “No offense meant, Ry, but I don’t want to

sit and worry about eating in public again today.”

“So we’ll do room service. Catch up.” He wasn’t sure why he

was pushing. It had been his fault they’d broken up, his inability to
step out of the closet. Everything in him urged him not to just let
go, though.

“Okay. That’s fine. You can get checked in and then we’ll meet

up in my room?”

“Works for me.” He gave DJ his arm again and got the man to

his room before going back to the front desk to check in.

He ended up on the first floor, too, right next door to DJ, in

fact. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were both using the
wedding group discount Anne had set up, or if it was because they
were both from Vancouver. He supposed it didn’t matter.

He dumped his bag in his room, pocketed the key, and knocked

on DJ’s door.

“Ryan?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” It was a little unreal, being in a hotel room

with DJ.

“Come on in.” The lights were off and the curtains closed, the

room super dark. Walter woofed at him, softly, the sound almost
friendly.

“Hi, Walter. Is it okay to pet him?” He knew it wasn’t always

okay to pet a working animal. “And can I turn on the light?”

“Absolutely. He’s not working and sure. I couldn’t find the

switch.”

“It’s over here, on the wrong side of the door.” He took DJ’s

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hand and showed him where the switch was and they flipped it on
together. He told himself he was ignoring the way his hand seemed
to tingle where their skin touched.

“Thanks, Ry.” DJ smiled, and the man was right there, so

kissable.

He blinked at the thought and froze for a half second. Then he

groaned,  and  pressed  their  lips  together.  DJ  went  stiff,  hands
flailing  for  a  second  before  they  found  his  shoulders.  His  own
hands  found  DJ’s  trim  waist,  slid  around  it.  Oh,  fuck.  He  was
kissing Daniel James Delout. Again.

It was just as hot as he’d remembered, on those nights where he

jacked himself in the dark, lost in memories. Moaning into the kiss,
he slid his tongue along Daniel’s lips, begging entrance. Those
sweet, hungry lips opened up to him, let him in, let him taste. That
had him moaning again; no one had ever tasted as good as DJ.

DJ’s hands moved, slowly, down his arms, the touch burning,

heated, and he felt like he was starving for it. He leaned forward,
gently pushing DJ up against the wall, his prick firming up
quickly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” DJ murmured the words

against his lips, so soft.

“Yes.” It was the first thing that popped into his head, and out

of his mouth. It was the truth. No matter what else happened, he
still loved DJ and he still wanted the man. Badly.

And what if DJ didn’t?
Gasping, he took a half step back. “But if you don’t…”
“Honey, I’m willing to have a nice, friendly fuck. I won’t out

you.”

“Shh.” He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think

about it. He just wanted to feel, he wanted to touch and to kiss and

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to have DJ  in  his arms. He closed their  lips together again, hands
moving  around  to  grab  DJ’s  ass.  DJ  dived  in,  the  kiss  sure  and
confident, hands cupping  his  face. He pulled DJ to him, the  long,
slender body fitting just like he remembered.

DJ’s fingers moved over him, like the man was mapping him.

A part of him wanted to hump madly against the wall, but a bigger
part wanted him to take his time, to explore and enjoy, so he
started slowly walking them back toward the bed.

“Don’t let me fall.”
“Won’t.” He had DJ.
DJ nodded and held onto him until they hit the mattress.
They sat together and he started working DJ’s clothes off,

fingers finding the man’s buttons and pulling them out of their
holes. DJ’s fingers traced his lips, his jaw. He chased them with his
mouth, nipping at them. Oh, fuck, this felt better than anything had
in so long.

“Stop it, man. Let me see you.”
“What?” It took him a minute to figure out what DJ had meant

by that. “Oh. Sorry.” God, he kept screwing up.

“Don’t apologize. I just…I want to see if you look the same.”

DJ winked. “You’ve gotten more nervous.”

“It’s been seven years and I was an ass. Plus I did slam your

head against the car window back there…” He was lucky DJ
wasn’t calling him a fucking coward asshole and kicking him to
the curb.

“I learned that you can’t make someone come out. Kiss me

again.”

Ryan decided to just shut up and do as DJ asked. He brought

their mouths together and focused on how good the kiss was.

DJ smiled and worked his shirt open with smart, clever fingers.

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He returned the favor, pushing the open shirt off DJ, fingers

eager for the man’s skin.

Oh, fuck. DJ had ink. A blueprint, right across the man’s chest.

His fingers traced the lines, a low groan coming from him.

“My last design.”
“What was it?” He leaned in and began to trace the lines with

his tongue.

“A…a church.”
“You designed a church?” That made this almost holy, right?

He kept tracing, licking the salt from DJ’s skin.

“Uh…Uh-huh. Oh, fuck, Ry…” Those lean muscles rippled.
Fuck, he knew this body better than anyone else’s aside from

his own. And yet he felt like it was all new again.

DJ leaned back, the man’s heavy cock outlined clearly in the

thin slacks. Ryan’s fingers went to it automatically, tracing it
through the material. “Oh, fuck. Baby.” He felt like he was twenty
again.

“Making me leak, man.” There was a tiny wet spot, growing on

the slacks.

“That’s a good start.” He suddenly needed to know if DJ tasted

the same. His fingers were almost shaking as he worked at opening
DJ’s pants.

“It’s okay. Really.” DJ kept touching him, stroking him, easing

him.

“Need you,” he admitted, though he wasn’t even sure himself if

he meant just now or something more intense, more long term.

“I’m right here. Right here.”
“Yeah. And you smell fucking amazing.” He got the snap at the

top of DJ’s slacks undone and carefully pulled the zipper down.

Hard and long, crowned with bright curls, that cock was

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luscious. Groaning, he took it right in, his lips wrapping around the
sweet tip.

“Ry!” DJ bucked up, pushed into his lips.
DJ tasted even better than Ryan remembered and he sucked

harder, hands wrapping around the slender hips to encourage DJ to
keep moving on his tongue. DJ rolled, moved for him, unashamed
and eager, taking his lips over and over. He just closed his eyes
and encouraged each and every thrust. Swallowing hard whenever
DJ went deep, he reveled in the flavor.

“Your mouth. Heaven. Christ, Ry. Don’t stop.”
Like he was planning to stop. He increased his suction, wanting

more of those needy words from DJ. His hands slid under DJ’s ass,
pulling the man in deeper. He wanted DJ to shoot, wanted his
mouth flooded with his lover’s pleasure.

DJ’s cry warned him that the man was close. He bobbed his

head as fast as he could. Come on, man. Come.

DJ called out, then that sweet prick swelled, filled his lips.

Spunk poured down his throat and into his mouth and he
swallowed and swallowed, taking it all in.

God, this was DJ. His DJ. Ryan shot without even having

realized he was close, his whole body responding to DJ.

“Oh, God. Ry. You… Damn…” DJ slumped back on the bed,

chest heaving.

He took his time cleaning DJ’s prick and then let it slide out of

his mouth. Resting his head on DJ’s belly, he panted, more than a
little undone by the whole experience.

Fingers carded through his hair. “Damn, Ry. You need a hand

to take the edge off?’

“Uh…” Heat flooded his cheeks. He’d come in his pants like a

teenager.

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DJ chuckled. “Edge is off? Excellent! That means round two is

lazy. Then supper, then round three.”

That had him grinning. It sure beat his plan of slinking off in

embarrassment.

“You got supplies?” Because he, stupidly, hadn’t imagined

he’d be getting lucky this weekend.

“Possibly? I have a bag that’s been packed for a long time. My

assistant just refills things I use up.”

He didn’t ask if the condoms got used up a lot. He had no right.

“I need to get out of these pants, they’re gross. Want me to grab
the bag for you?”

“No. No, I need to do it.”
“Okay. I’ll be out of the bathroom in a minute.”
He dropped a kiss on DJ’s belly, taking a deep breath, pulling

that scent into him before fleeing to clean up and take a few
calming breaths.

He’d sucked off Daniel-Fucking-James Delout.

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CHAPTER 2

DJ headed to his suitcase, fingers looking for things. Marlena

was a master of organization and everything was exactly where it
belonged.

He’d just…with Ryan. Ryan who was obviously still in the

closet, still not looking for a partner. Lord.

He heard the toilet flush and knew he didn’t have much longer

before Ryan was back in the room with him.

Walter woofed at him from the corner.
“You want a bone, boy?” He dug out a treat, put his ditty bag

on the bed and stripped down.

Ryan came out of the bathroom and whistled. “Damn, that’s

still the finest ass in Canada.”

He waggled said ass, playful. “Tell me you’re naked, too.”

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“Okay. I’m naked, too.” Ryan sounded a little more at ease

than he’d been.

“Cool. Come here and let me touch.”
He had fond memories of that runner’s body, but he knew Ry

was  bigger  now,  more  solid.  He  heard  Ryan  approach  and  he
swore he could feel the heat pouring off Ry’s skin as the man came
closer.  He  reached  out,  curious,  letting  Ryan  come  to  him.  Ryan
stepped  into  his  hands,  muscles  solid  beneath  his  fingertips,  skin
warm.

“Hey.”
“Mmm. Hey.” He explored, learning.
Ryan was more muscled now, though not crazy built. There

sure wasn’t an ounce of fat, though. His touches made those
muscles twitch, made Ry catch his breath.

“You still run?”
“I do. I work out with the team, too. The Vancouver Cyclones.”

Ryan had been in sports science when they’d been together.

“I swim now. A lot.” Swimming was safe, easy, and damned

good exercise.

“You look stunning.” Ry’s hands came up to slide over his

shoulders, around his upper arms.

“I’m glad.” DJ pulled Ry closer, leaned back into the mattress.
Ry lay over him, body slowly coming down on his as Ry’s

mouth  found  his. The kiss was  lazy this time, easy and  slow, and
DJ  explored  every  inch  of  Ry’s  mouth,  their  tongues  playing
together. Ry’s hands cupped  his  face,  fingers  long and warm  and
he  could  feel  each  one  on  his  skin.  So  hungry,  so  needy.  DJ
approved, stretching under all that skin.

The lazy kisses slowly built in intensity, Ry beginning to rock

slowly against him. He traced a line down Ry’s spine, counting the

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vertebrae, slowing whenever Ry shivered.

When he got to the small of Ry’s back, the man shuddered

hard. “Fuck. DJ.” The need there sounded so good.

“Mmmhmm. I have you.” He kept touching, playing there.
Ry bucked, the man’s hard cock pushing against his thigh. It

was leaking, making him wet. Someone liked that, so DJ kept it up,
chuckling as Ry moaned. He wondered when the last time was that
Ry had someone take their time, touch him to bring him pleasure,
the man’s reactions were so intense.

They had at least an hour before room service closed, right? He

couldn’t quite remember what time the front desk clerk had said
when he’d checked in, but Ry moaned into his mouth and suddenly
he couldn’t quite care.

Their cocks slid together, side by side, rubbing steadily, just a

little too fast for gentle.

“Fucking want you.” The want in Ry’s voice was heady.
“How do you want it?” He was easy, willing, able.
“Anyway I can have you.”
“Then fuck me.” They hadn’t tried that together, back in

school.

Ry shuddered. “Fuck yes. Please.”
He nodded. “Look in my bag. There should be slick.”
Ry’s body dragged along his for a moment, then shifted as Ry

leaned over to grab the  bag where  he’d  left  it on the edge of the
bed.  He  kept  exploring,  tongue  dragging,  fingertips  touching  so
lightly.  Ry  made  soft  noises  as  he  touched,  almost  sobbing  as  he
slid  his  fingers  along  the  sweet  dip  by  Ry’s  right  hip.  He  leaned
down, curious to taste that spot, lick and nibble.

Ry froze, let him explore with his tongue. “Fuck.”
“Mmmhmm.” Smooth and soft, hot and a little salty—Ryan

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tasted good.

“You’re so fucking sensual.”
He needed to be. He only had four left.
Ry’s fingers slid through his hair, keeping him down at the

man’s hip. He could feel the heat of Ry’s prick by his cheek. He
turned his head, nuzzled that sweet cock. Ry whimpered for him
and gasped out his name.

“Mmmhmm.” He kissed the tip of Ryan’s prick, gathering the

man’s flavor on his tongue. It was like he remembered only
deeper, stronger.

“You do that too much and I won’t last long enough to get

inside you.”

He nodded, nuzzled with his cheek. Ry’s fingers stuttered over

his skin.

“Can we do it face to face? I know you can’t see me, but…”
“We can.” He was easy. Hell, he was the epitome of easy.
“Want to see your face.” Ry pushed him gently onto his back

again, encouraged him to spread his legs open.

“Are the lights on?” He reached up, hands searching for Ryan’s

face so he could see, too.

“Yeah, they are.” Ry nuzzled his hand.
“Then you can see.” The tiny bits of stubble caught his

fingertips.

“Yeah, I can.” Ryan mouthed his palm.
Shifting slightly, Ryan slid his fingers along DJ’s inner thighs,

heading up. He spread, letting Ryan look his fill, touch.

“You always were hot.” Ry’s fingers slid to cup his balls.
His knees bent as he spread. “Thank you.”
One of Ry’s fingers slid down to stroke over his hole. “Really

hot.”

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“I’m tight, too. Going to feel like heaven around your cock.”
Ry’s fingers stuttered and a moan filled the room. DJ grinned.

This was more fun than he ever imagined. Then Ry’s fingers
pushed against his hole, one slipping right in.

“Mmm. So good.” He spread and made sure Ry could see.
Ry made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan,

finger pushing deeper into him. One of Ryan’s hands landed on his
belly, pushing at him. Ry’s hands were hot, the finger inside him
especially so as it wriggled. DJ moved on the sheets, rocking with
the touch.

“God, look at you. Fucking sexy, DJ.” Ry took his time, one

finger giving way to two as Ryan worked on opening him.

It was so different from their wham-bam encounters when they

were in college, both eager and quick off the mark and Ry not
wanting to be found out.

He grabbed one knee, drew it up, and rocked down.
“Oh, fuck. So tight. DJ…” Ry’s voice was thick, rough with

need.

“Uh-huh. Your cock now. Pushing in deep.”
Ry jerked, fingers going in hard for a second. “Oh. Oh, fuck.

Yes.”

He nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips.
The fingers inside him slipped away and he felt Ry settling

between his legs, one hand holding his right leg back.

“Need you, Ry.”
“You got me.” The head of Ry’s prick pressed against him, and

slowly, carefully, pushed in.

There wasn’t room for the moan that pushed out of him.
“Oh, fuck, DJ. Hot. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Yes.”

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Ryan pushed in deep, then deeper. DJ could feel each panting

breath against his face, Ryan moaning. He turned his face, hoping
for  a  kiss.  Ryan  gave  it  to  him,  mouth  covering  his  and  tongue
slipping  in.  The  kiss  was  hot  and  full  of  need,  wanton.  That  was
when  they  found  their  rhythm—pushing  and  moaning,  skin
slapping together.

“Oh, fuck. Tight.” The words pushed into his mouth along with

Ry’s breath.

Hell, yes. He wrapped his lips around Ryan’s tongue, sucking,

hips moving in time. Ry managed to get a hand between them and
wrapped it around his prick, pulling hard on him. DJ felt that
touch, deep inside, and his muscles clenched.

“Oh fuck!” Ry moved faster, really punching into him,

managing to find just the right angle to pound his gland.

“There. There. Fuck. Ry, please!”
“Come on.” Ry stayed on that spot, lighting him up from inside

over and over.

There was no way to hold back, no way at all, not with the way

Ryan was touching him. His body met Ry’s thrusts, each of Ry’s
little cries and moans making everything even more intense. He
was drowning in the scents, the sounds, and best of all, the feel of
Ryan’s cock battering inside him.

Ryan’s hand worked hard around his prick, thumb stroking

across his tip. He squeezed tight, gripping Ryan’s cock as he cried
out, came.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Ry jerked, and DJ could feel him filling the

condom.

The bed felt like it was spinning and he reached out, gripped

the sheets. Ry collapsed onto him, solid and warm, pinning him.
Wow. Damn. Also, fucking A.

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“Fuck. DJ…” Ry’s breath was hot as it panted out against his

throat.

“Uh-huh.” Absolutely.
Ry began to slip out and, groaning, he pulled the rest of the

way out, hand gently bumping DJ’s balls. DJ moaned low, his toes
curling. He heard the condom hit the garbage can and then Ry lay
back down, head on his thigh, still panting slightly.

“You okay?” He was…well, hungry, actually.
“Yeah, just a little… I never expected this.”
No. No, he hadn’t either. Still, it was a way to spend an

evening. He knew Ryan. Knew the man would never come out.
This couldn’t be anything more than a hook up. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess I could eat.” Ry pressed an almost hesitant kiss

to his hip, and then stood. “Can I steal one of the robes in your
closet?”

“Of course.” He stretched, lazy, comfortable in his skin. “You

don’t have to stay, if you’re uncomfortable, Ry.”

“It’s not that. I…” Ry sighed softly and he heard the closet

door open, close again and Ry came back and terry cloth brushed
against him as it landed on the bed beside him “You’re so Zen,
man.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen me fly into a crazy rage.” He tended

toward hot and cold.

Ry chuckled, lounging on the bed beside him. “Does that

happen a lot?”

“I would say no, but my assistant would probably argue.”
Ry chuckled, touched his belly. “What do you want from room

service?”

“My safest option is whatever poultry sandwich and fries.”

Eating could be fraught with weirdness and he wanted to impress

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Ryan.

“Safest?” He could hear Ry flipping through the pages of the

hotel information book.

He nodded. “Try eating one day with your eyes closed.”
“Oh, shit. Yeah, that didn’t even occur to me. They’ve got a

grilled chicken sandwich with fries; it comes with lettuce, tomato
and pickle.”

“That’s fine. I’m not picky.” He had been, once upon a time.
“Well, they’ve got a chicken breast with roast potatoes and

fresh vegetables here, which sounds way better than a chicken
burger. How about that?” Ry’s hand touched his arm, warm,
gentle.

He felt his cheeks heat. There was a better than good chance

that, during the cutting of the meat, the breast would go flying and
he’d have to give it to Walter.

That hand stroked his arm. “Shit, DJ, I can cut your meat for

you if that’s what the problem is.”

“You know how embarrassing this is? I’m going for totally

cope-y and suave here.”

“Trust me, you’ve got me totally beat in either department.” Ry

shifted  away  from  him,  picked  up  the  phone.  “Yeah,  two  filet
mignons,  please.  Both  medium  rare,  two  beers,  and  two
cheesecakes,  please.  Yeah,  that’s  right.  Thanks.  A  half  hour?
Cool.” Ry hung up.

DJ snorted. “That’s not chicken.” Still. Steak. Uhn.
“No, but we never could afford it and you always loved steak.

I’m guessing that’s not changed and I can totally cut the fucking
meat for you. Don’t sweat it.”

“I love steak.” He grinned. “So, tell me about your life, man.

It’s been so long.” So long and they hadn’t spoken, hadn’t stayed

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friends. Lovers were nice, but DJ knew what was important now.

“Like I said, I’m working with the Cyclones. I live in

Vancouver, but I travel with the team. Work with the players who
need it off-season, too. I like it, love living on the coast. What
about you? What are you doing now?” Ry came and sat back down
next to him on the bed, hand sliding on his thigh like Ry was
starved for touch.

“Consulting, teaching some.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I can

design anymore.” He kept waiting for that to stop hurting.

“I’m sorry, man.” Ry’s fingers curled around his hip, squeezed

lightly. “It was what you were made to do.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I got it.”
“Have you tried— Sorry. It’s not really any of my business, I

guess.”

“Tried what?”
“Well, having someone else do the drawings for you. I mean,

you can still picture the designs in your head, right? And you know
the lingo and what blueprints should look like.”

“Yes, but would you want a blind man designing your house?”

He wouldn’t.

“If I knew he did good work, I’d think it would be an added

bonus, actually.”

Ry’s hand crept to his belly and he could feel the man’s shrug.

“Like I said, not my business. Finding solutions is just a big part of
the job, you know? And I hate to think of you not being able to do
what you love.”

“I guess sometimes you just have to admit defeat.” DJ thought

maybe Ry was going to say something else on the subject, but he
didn’t.

“So how are you staying in such great shape? Hit the gym a

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lot?” Ry’s touch accompanied the words

“Swimming. I can’t get lost.”
Ry’s laughter sounded surprised, but genuine.
They chatted a bit more, catching up until there was a knock at

the door.

“I’ve got it.” Ry stood, tossing the robe over him before

heading for the door. Ryan was so different and still just the same,
all at the same time.

Walter got up when Ryan opened the door, coming to stand

next to him, fur brushing his legs.

“Hey, boy. How you doing?” He reached down, stroking the

soft ears.

Walter woofed softly and licked him.
Ry was back a moment later, a room service cart running

noisily over the rug. “It smells great.”

It did—hot and spicy and meaty. He approved.
There was the sound of cutlery and plates and then the table

was set in front of him. “The meat is cut and at six on your plate.
The fries are between twelve and four and there’s mixed
vegetables from eight to twelve. Your beer is to the top right of
your plate. You want salt or anything?”

“No. Not yet.” His cheeks were burning, but his belly was

snarling. “Thank you.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s just me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, still. Sometimes I want to be incredibly cool.”
“I think you’re pretty fucking cool, DJ. Cutting your meat for

you didn’t change that.”

“Thanks, Ry.” He reached out, touched Ryan’s leg.
Ryan hummed a little, leg pushing into his touch. “Dig in, man.

I’m starving.”

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He searched for his fork, then carefully felt around his plate for

the steak.

Ry was a noisy eater. Oh, he didn’t smack or make loud

chewing noises, but he appreciated the food with little hums and
half moans. It was comforting, familiar, and he found himself just
listening.

“Man, even their fries are like gourmet; I don’t even need

ketchup. Not bad at all for room service.”

DJ found one, tried it. Not bad. Not bad at all.
“Go on, DJ. Eat up,
cause I know you’re hungry and you’ve already impressed the

hell out of me with your whole Zen thing. It’ll make me feel better
if you wind up with a bit of steak sauce on your chin or
something.”

He blinked, then cracked up, laughing deep in his chest before

getting down to the business of eating.

“Man, I’m almost too full for dessert,” Ryan declared when DJ

had cleaned his plate. “But I’ll manage to stuff it down somehow. I
think one has strawberry stuff on it and the other one caramel—
you got a preference or do you want to share?”

“Can we share?”
“I’d love that. I was having a hard time choosing myself.” Ry

laughed and noisily stacked plates, closed domes, and opened
others.

A moment later, DJ could smell strawberries, and Ry

murmured, “Open up.”

DJ’s lips parted and he heard Ry moan about a half second

before cool, sweet creamy lusciousness hit his lips. It was soon
followed by Ry’s mouth, the man’s tongue pushing in to taste. Oh.
Oh, that rocked. He moaned, scooting closer.

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Ry broke the kiss and fed him another piece of cake, this time

caramel. Again, Ry pressed a kiss against his lips, hands coming
up to cup his face. He leaned into Ryan’s hands, hummed.

“Fuck, you make me want.” Ry almost whispered the words.
“Is that bad?”
“What? No. Not bad.” Ry laughed and pressed another kiss on

him.

He leaned forward, hand landing right in something gooey.

Splat. Ry started to giggle.

“Dude.” He lifted his hand, slapped it on Ryan’s chest.
“No way! You did not just do that!”
The sound of the cutlery rattling was his only warning before

he got a chest full of cheesecake, too.

“Hey!” Oh, man. Gooey.
“Tit for tat,” murmured Ry. Then the next thing he knew, Ryan

was licking the cheesecake off his skin.

“Ry?” His head fell back, throat working. Damn. Just damn.

That felt so? Weird? Hot?

“Cleaning you, don’t want to waste the cheesecake.” Ry paused

to lick some more. “Or your skin.”

“Oh, fuck.” His cock was more than happy to make a

comeback.

Ry kept sucking and licking his chest, far longer than had to be

necessary to clean off the cheesecake. The hard prick pressing
against his thigh had little to do with cleaning, either.

“Ry. You feel so good.”
“You feel pretty fucking awesome yourself.”
Ry found his right nipple, mouth wrapping around it. One of

his hands found Ryan’s head, drew the man closer. That had Ryan
pulling harder, going to town on his nipple with suction and sharp

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teeth and soft, hot lips.

“Oh! Oh, fuck.” He started shuddering, thrusting up, entire

body on fire. “Please.”

Humming, Ryan doubled his efforts, shooting fire straight from

his nipple to his balls.

“Oh, Jesus.” Aching. Fuck, he was aching. So bad.
Ry took a last nip of his nipple and moved to the other one,

starting slowly and building on gentle stimulation. DJ was fucking
lost, the suction and rhythm making him shudder, cry out. When
Ry’s hand wrapped around his prick, he bucked hard.

“Oh, Jesus. Jesus, please.”
Ry hummed again, sucking harder on his nipple, thumb

pushing into his slit on every single upstroke on his cock. Fuck.
Fuck. His prick was aching, balls full. Ry kept it up, kept working
his body and making him need. DJ was lost. Lost.

Letting go of his nipple, Ry bit at the skin right below it. He

cried out, bucking up furiously, humping into Ry’s hand.

“Come on, DJ. Let me fucking smell you again.”
“Ryan!” He spent, sucking in a sobbing breath.
“Mmm. Yeah.” Ryan began licking his belly clean.
He started shaking hard, skin tingling. Ry grabbed hold of his

hips like the man was trying to keep him from shaking apart.

“Damn. Damn, honey.” His voice was raw.
“Fucking sex on legs, DJ.”
He moaned, feeling about as hot as a man could be.
Ry’s fingers and mouth slid over his body.
“I can’t go three. I’m getting older.”
“Shh. Just feeling you up.”
“Feeling me?” Yeah. Yeah, that was exactly what Ry was

doing.

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“Yeah, feeling…” Every inch of him, like Ry was committing

him to memory.

His legs spread, then Ryan’s lips headed south, dragging down

over his hips. Ry’s nose slid along his prick, then the man nuzzled
his balls. His legs spread, even farther, his heels digging into the
mattress. Humming, the sound happy and pleased, Ry took one of
his balls into the heat of his mouth. The wave of pleasure crashed
over him, his body trying to tighten again.

Ry’s fingers slid over his thighs, stroked the sensitive inner

flesh  as  the  man’s  tongue  circled  his  nut.  Fuck,  that  damn  near
hurt,  it  felt  so  good.  Letting  go  of  his  left  nut,  Ry  took  the  other
one  into  his  hot  mouth.  The  sheets  twisted  underneath  him,  the
room seeming to get hotter and  hotter. Tugging,  Ry pulled on  his
ball and then let it slide from his lips.

“Fuck. Fuck, you’re good at that.”
Ry made a soft sound and began to lick at the skin beyond his

balls. His head and shoulders came off the mattress, his belly
muscles burning. Moaning, Ry pushed his tongue down farther,
swiping it across his hole.

“Ryan…” His fucking eyes were burning at the corners; he was

trying to see this.

“Spread your legs, DJ.” The soft words were almost whispered,

a caress.

When he did it, Ry almost pounced, tongue slapping his hole

before running along it over and over. He twisted, rolling over,
offering Ryan his ass, his hole, almost begging for it. Ryan’s hands
grabbed his ass and separated his cheeks. He felt the heat of Ry’s
breath first, then that hot, wet tongue pushed into him.

“Oh, fucking hell.” His head fell forward as he groaned.
“No, I’m fucking you.” Ry’ smiled against his ass.

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“Butt…butthead.” The word made him laugh, the sound almost

hysterical.

“Oh man. Man. I thought my sense of humor was for shit.”
“Using the term shit where you’re sitting is incredibly

inappropriate.” The laughter got louder, both of them howling.
They wound up lying next to each other, Ry pulling him into the
strong arms.

“I’m so glad you made your flight.” He was. Incredibly.

Stupidly.

“Yeah, me, too.” Ry wasn’t just saying it, either, he could hear

the truth of the words in his voice.

“You made me feel amazing.” He’d been soaring.
“I’m glad.” Ry’s fingers slid on his skin, petting him.
“Me, too.” Goofy, because Ryan wasn’t interested in long-

term, but it was true.

Ryan curled up around him, nuzzled and kept touching. It made

him feel…safe, special. Whole. For the first time in years, he felt
whole.

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CHAPTER 3

Ryan woke up at five thirty, like he usually did. What wasn’t

usual was being in bed with DJ. He spent about ten minutes
debating whether to wake the man up or go do his usual morning
work out and get ready for the wedding. In the end, he did indeed
chicken out and slip out to follow his morning routine.

He worked out for an hour at the hotel gym, showered, grabbed

some room service breakfast, which had nothing on their supper,
though he was willing to put some of last’s night’s yumminess
down to DJ. Maybe a lot of it. Then he dressed in his monkey suit
and went and knocked on DJ’s door.

“Who is it?” DJ sounded aggravated, almost grumpy.
“Me—Ryan.”
“Oh, hey.” The door was unlocked, opened. “I called myself a

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cab. I didn’t know if you were coming back.” DJ was dressed,
except for his tie and jacket.

“Yeah, sorry.” It had been chickenshit of him to leave without

talking to DJ first. “You were still asleep and I needed to get my
work out in.” It sounded like a pretty lame excuse, even to his own
ears.”

“It’s okay. No worries.” DJ turned away from him, let him in.

The room was cleaned up, the chaos of clothes and sheets
completely disappeared.

Damn, DJ looked good and Ry found himself wanting to muss

the man up a little. Okay, more than a little.

“You wanna share a cab over? I don’t want to drive in case I

decide to indulge.”

“Sure.” DJ checked his watch with his fingers. Okay, damn.

That was fucking cool. “We’ve got about five minutes.”

“That’s enough time for a good morning kiss and a hello

grope.” He stepped up to DJ, hand sliding into the man’s hair,
tilting DJ’s head to the side.

DJ looked surprised, which Ryan couldn’t blame the man for—

he was a little surprised himself. He just dived in, wanting to
disturb that perfect calm that DJ wore. He slipped his tongue
between DJ’s lips, the taste of the man right there. It was already
an addiction again. Already.

He groaned, his fingers sliding along DJ’s chest, finding hard

little nipples through DJ’s dress shirt.

“Ryan…I can’t spring wood.”
Too late. He slid his hand down and cupped DJ’s package. “I

believe you can.”

“Okay. I shouldn’t spring pre-wedding wood.”
“I don’t know, seems to me like it’s what weddings are about,

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isn’t it?” He was having fun teasing DJ; he was having even more
fun fondling the man.

“Not when you’re the token disabled groomsman.”
“I could take care of this for you in a jiffy.” He let go of DJ and

went to his knees, wanting another taste.

“Ryan?” Those empty eyes were wide, like DJ was fighting to

see him.

“Right here, DJ.” He worked open the tuxedo pants.
The heavy, long cock was pressing against the man’s tightie-

whities, begging for attention. He reached into the cotton briefs
and pulled that hard cock right out. DJ widened his stance, spread,
and Ryan groaned at the sight. Fuck. Fuck, that was…porn. Pure
joyous porn.

Leaning in, he took the head into his mouth. DJ tasted fresh and

musky and male. He moaned around the tip, flicking the man’s slit
with the tip of his tongue. Then he took a breath and went down on
DJ.

“Oh, sweet Jesus.” DJ’s fingers found his head, the touch

incredibly gentle.

He hummed, swallowed around DJ’s tip and pulled slowly off

again so he could lick at the tip.

“I…” DJ swallowed hard. “Please, baby.”
At that plea, he began to bob his head, lips wrapped tight

around the length he was going up and down on. Soft words
poured down between them, DJ holding nothing back, hiding not
one ounce of need back. It was the sexiest thing ever.

He pushed at DJ’s balls through the tightie-whities.
“Oh, fuck. Again. Again, baby. Please.”
He pulled DJ all the way in again, swallowed around the round

head, squeezing it in his throat. Then he nudged those sweet nuts

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and bang. That was it. Spunk filled his mouth, while DJ’s cry filled
the air. He swallowed and swallowed, taking all of DJ in. Those
fingers stroked through his hair, petting him, the touch trembling.

He let DJ’s prick fall from his lips and rubbed his cheek against

it.

“I… I… Damn.”
How studly did the gaspy, husky words make him feel?
He carefully tucked DJ back into his pants, loving that he’d put

that dishevelled look there. Then he stood and licked at DJ’s lips,
wanting in. DJ opened up, kissing him like the world was coming
to an end. He cupped DJ’s face and let the kiss go on and on.

DJ’s room phone rang, the sound jangling and loud. “Oh, God.

The cab.”

He leaned their foreheads together for a moment. “Okay. You

go stall him while I sort myself out in the bathroom.”

“Save your hard-on for me? For later?” Okay, that was the

hottest fucking thing, ever.

“Christ. Yes.” He thumped himself a couple times. “Let’s go

then.”

“Okay. Okay, Walter, come on.” DJ grabbed a jacket, an untied

tie.

Ryan straightened his own tie and decided he was good, so he

followed DJ and Walter out the door, hoping his prick would go
down faster than it was. Of course, watching DJ’s ass move, it
wasn’t easy.

He sat in the front seat of the cab to give Walter more room,

told the driver where they were going. Honestly, he wasn’t paying
that much attention to their surroundings, he just couldn’t wait
until “later.”

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* * *

DJ stood, listening to the crowd, the reception line, the endless

thank yous and congratulations just going on and on. It was crazy
making. Boring. Still, he was able to lean, pretend to pay attention,
and fantasize about Ryan.

The man was on his right, voice low and sexy as he spoke to all

the guests, charming everyone. The ladies in particular seemed to
like him.

No one shook DJ’s hand—which worked for him. It was all a

little  weird,  really,  searching  for  the  grip,  trying  not  to  poke
someone right  in the  belly or something even  less appropriate, so
he  was  glad  not  to  have  to  do  it.  Walter  was  next  to  his  feet,  a
silent presence.

“We’re almost done—you okay?” murmured Ryan.
“I’m great. You? Everyone happy?”
“Yep. Although Brian looks like he’s flagging. Man needs a

shot and then dinner.”

“Cool. How many more in line?” He just wanted to sit quietly

and let the bride and groom do their thing.

“Six more and they look like maiden aunts. Be ready for cheek

pinching and kissing.”

“I’m just going to lean back.”
He could hear the rest of their frat brothers chuckling. Ry

laughed right out loud. Fuck, he did love that sound.

Finally it was time to move to the table, listen to the endless

speeches and congratulations, and move weird chicken in circles
around his plate. They’d sat the bridesmaids next to the bride and
the guys down along the other side next to Brian, so he had Ryan’s
quiet running asides to keep things from getting too boring. He’d

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forgotten how Ryan had a knack for quiet, hilarious commentary.
At least he had someone to be a wallflower with at this wedding.

He could see Ry, in his mind’s eyes, the chiseled jaw, the long

nose. The hollow in the man’s throat.

“Brian’s mom is wearing the most, uh, elaborate dress. She’s

got all the colors and styles in one.”

DJ snorted. “All the colors, huh? She always was…colorful.”
“Uh-huh. Man, why do they always serve funky chicken at

these things? Just once I’d like a wedding or work dinner that
served fish or pork or anything other than funky chicken.”

“Because it’s the safest answer, baby. Bland, pale, normal

chicken.”

Ry snorted, foot nudging his hard under the table. He jerked,

the kick surprising him, and he automatically reached for Ryan,
feeling weirdly off-balance.

Ryan took his hand and put it on the table. “Your fork is at

three o’clock, man. Right where you left it.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t reach for it, though. Ryan’s voice had

been icy, firm, distant. Okay. Okay. He felt Walter shift next to
him, obviously reading his upset, and he reached down, stroked
one ear, murmuring softly.

DJ wasn’t sure what he’d done, exactly, but he was obviously

embarrassing people. The speeches finally ended and the plates
were cleared.

“Can we have the bride and groom on the floor for their first

dance as a married couple?”

There was a cheer and the music started up.
DJ needed to piss, to wash his face, and suddenly he felt

incredibly lost and young, but he clapped politely. He was never
traveling without Marlena again. Never.

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“I’m gonna go do my duty with the bridesmaids on the dance

floor, man,” Ryan muttered before his chair scrapped against the
floor.

“Have fun.”
DJ sat there for about ten minutes, all alone and feeling as

though he stuck out like a sore thumb. Then a waiter asked him if
he needed anything.

“Actually, yes. Could you please help me get a taxi?” He

would feed Walter and then check his email. Pack up. Order room
service. In private.

“Of course, sir. There are several up front waiting for guests.”
“Thank you so much.”
He headed out, hand on the waiter’s arm, when he heard Will.

“DJ? You leaving?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Walter needs his dinner.”
“Yeah, I saw you got deserted. We’re all dancing, trying to get

lucky, you know?”

“I do.” Right. Ryan was passing as straight. DJ had to

remember that. No sitting on the sidelines with the gay guy.

“So far some of us seem to be getting luckier than others.”

Will’s voice had that suggestive tone in it. “You sticking around
for the rest of the weekend?”

“I don’t think so, no. I’ve got a lot of work at home. You go

shake your groove thing, man.” Go be a dude.

He wanted out, so bad.
“Yeah? You sure you’re good to go on your own? You came

with someone, right? I could…”

“I’m fine. Just put me in a cab.”
“Sure.” Will whistled and he heard a car pull up. “There you

go. See you

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round. Uh. Okay, going before I put my other foot in it.” Will

laughed.

“Uh-huh. Go. I’m glad I came, dude.” He helped Walter in,

gave the cabbie the name of the hotel and leaned his head back, his
cheeks just burning.

God, he was tired. Like in his soul.
It was weirdly like the first time they’d broken up, except this

time he was blind and no one had caught them and… Okay. So it
wasn’t anything like the first time. It still hurt, though.

It still made him vaguely ashamed of not being enough.

* * *

Ryan finally got off the dance floor by claiming he needed the

bathroom. If he wasn’t careful he really was going to “get lucky.”
He looked around for DJ, but the man was clearly gone. Every one
else was busy dancing or flirting at their tables and in corners and
he thought maybe it was time for him to go.

He slipped out a side door and walked around to the front

where the cabs were. God, he was tired of being fake. It was easier
at  home  somehow.  Maybe  because  he  spent  the  majority  of  his
time  on  the  job  where  he  could  be  himself.  Well,  mostly.  At  any
rate,  no  one  expected  him  to  dance  and  try  to  get  it  on  with
bridesmaids back home.

The cab pulled up in front of the hotel and he handed over a

few bills and climbed out. Pulling his keycard out of his pocket, he
headed for his room, stopping when he reached DJ’s door instead.
The light was on under the door, so he took a breath and knocked.
The man had promised to take care of his hard-on later, right?
Besides, he didn’t know if DJ had an early flight out and he wanted

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to say goodbye. He wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“Who is it?” DJ sounded…sad.
“It’s me, man. Ryan.”
The door opened, part way. “Hey, ba…man. What’s up?”
“You left without saying
bye. Lemme in, man.”
“You were busy.” DJ stood back, the room packed up, all but a

single outfit and Walter’s water dish.

“You got an early flight?” He closed the door and followed DJ.
“I do.” DJ found the edge of the bed, then walked around and

sat in the arm chair. There was a room service plate there.

“Then I guess we have to say our good-byes tonight, eh?” Ryan

found himself reluctant to do so. He wished they had more time
together. A lot more.

“Yeah. Are you staying the weekend?” DJ had his head down,

face expressionless.

“I fly out to Boston tomorrow afternoon to meet back up with

the team.” He went right up to DJ, stepped between the man’s legs.

DJ sat back, eyes wide, shocked. “I… Ryan?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You just surprised me.” DJ moved the chair back, putting

space between them.

“What’s going on, DJ? What’s with the cold shoulder all of a

sudden?”

“Me? You’re the one acting like I’ve got leprosy.”
“Excuse me?” He was standing right there, trying to get lucky.
“Look, you want to stay in the closet, that’s fine, but I’m not

used to being with someone who’s ashamed to be seen with me.
I’m not into that. Go back to the wedding, go play, but I’m not… I
can’t do this, man. I loved you. I don’t want to do this.”

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Ryan felt like he’d been pole-axed. “I’m not ashamed to be

seen with you, what the fuck?” And DJ wasn’t the only one who’d
been in love.

“Liar.” The single word fell between them, quiet, sure.
“I’m not! We spent the whole fucking wedding and reception

up to the dancing together!” Just because he was in the closet
didn’t mean he was ashamed of being with his friends in public.

“Okay. Fine. We did. Except that I obviously did something

wrong during dinner—God knows what. Maybe I looked at you,
who knows, but it was wrong. I’m going home, Ryan, where
people want to be with me.”

Oh. That. He hung his head. “You called me baby.” It had

startled him. Badly.

DJ sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to lying.”
“And I’m not used to being with anyone.” He sighed and sat on

the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, DJ.” Not for all the world. He
still loved this man, crazy as it might be.

“You never did.” DJ’s smile looked bittersweet. “But I’m not a

kid anymore. I can’t just pretend to be something I’m not. You
need to find yourself a fuckbuddy, someone who just wants nice
orgasms a few times a month. I want… Shit, I’m looking for Mr.
Right, not Mr. Right Now.”

“That’s not for me.” He tried the fuckbuddy thing twice. It

turned  out  he  was  a  romantic.  Who  knew?  Of  course,  it  made
things  awfully  hard  when  he  was  in  the  closet  and  he’d  left  the
man he loved years ago because of it. There wasn’t ever going to
be  a  Mr.  Right,  or  rather,  his  Mr.  Right  was  saying  good-bye  to
him. Again.

“I know.” DJ stood, came to him, kissed him softly. “Goodbye

Ry. Have a good flight tomorrow.”

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He grabbed hold of DJ’s arms; he didn’t want to let the man go.

How could he do this again? “Don’t go. Please.”

“I have to. Eventually I will call you baby or I will touch you

or something. I know that and so do you. I can’t be your blind, gay
friend.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He pulled DJ in, brought their

lips together.

DJ pulled back, shook his head. “I can’t be your secret lover,

either. Everyone knows I’m queer. Everyone.” The man shook his
head, sighed softly. “It’s going to be an issue, baby, and I’m too
busy and too tired and too old to lie.”

“So this is it? Goodbye, it was nice to know you, see you

around?” It hurt, as bad as it had hurt all those years ago, maybe
more because now he knew that what he and DJ had, it wasn’t so
easy to find; he sure hadn’t found it with anyone else.

“It was glorious to know you and I wish you didn’t have to

hide. I hope you find the one who’s worth coming out for some
day. I wish that could have been me.” DJ shrugged. “But it never
was.”

“I… DJ…” Fuck, he was going to start bawling like a fucking

kid any moment. He took another kiss, hard and short and bit back
the “I love you” that wanted out.

He pretended that he couldn’t see the single tear that escaped

DJ, too.

He had to go. He should never have come.

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CHAPTER 4

“Hey, you.” Marlena’s voice hit DJ’s ears about a half-second

before the scent of lasagna hit his nose.

“Lady. How’s that grandbaby?” He’d been home for four days.

He drank for two, cried for one, and then hit the swimming pool
and swam until he puked.

“He is the very definition of perfect.” He could hear the joy in

her voice.

“Yeah? Did you get your fill of snuggles?” He straightened his

shirt and ran a hand through his hair as Walter went wagging up to
Marlena to get his love.

“I did. You look like you forgot what a vacation is for,

though.”

“Yeah. I…” He sighed. “You can’t go back, you know? They

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knew somebody else.” Somebody younger, somebody sighted.

“They always do.” She touched his arm, that was his warning

before she gave him a quick hug.

“You’re a good man, DJ. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a

fool.”

“Yeah. Well, he’s been a fool for a long time.” DJ wasn’t sure

what that made him. “Tell me that smell is homemade lasagna for
your favorite blind guy.”

“No, it’s homemade lasagna for my favorite private

consultant.”

“Well, then, let’s eat.” He found a smile. It still hurt. He

thought it would for a while, but he knew how to do this.

At least he was home.

* * *

Ryan tossed his bag on the floor and closed the door. Fuck, he

was tired. Usually he loved traveling with the team, but he’d been
feeling like steaming shit after Brian’s wedding and had really had
to work at being personable with the team.

He loved his job. He loved making athletes better through

science. He did. He always had and he’d always had that, even if
he didn’t have anyone to share it with.

What he hated was that he was hiding. Funny thing was, he was

used to hiding, but it didn’t used to be so hard.

Having seen DJ again… He hadn’t realized just how big of a

torch he was still carrying for the man.

He rubbed his face and stumbled toward bed. Nothing had

fucking changed, though, had it?

So he better suck it up and deal.

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* * *

God, DJ was bored. Totally, completely, utterly bored. All his

emails were checked, all his mail dealt with. Marlena had come
and gone for the day. Walter’d been walked and fed.

God, maybe he needed to go out. There was a quiet club

downstairs—quiet enough that Benny knew what he drank and
there was someone who would help him upstairs if he had one too
many.

Somehow, though, he just didn’t want to go out.
He wanted to stay in, watch NCIS reruns, or CSI reruns with

someone who didn’t mind explaining what had happened. Maybe
share a pizza and a six pack, then shower together and fuck like
bunnies.

DJ wanted normal.
He wasn’t going to get it, but he wanted it.
He sighed, went to the bedroom and curled up in his bed,

fingers searching until they found the remote.

* * *

Ryan leaned back against the tile, hot water streaming down

over him as he jacked his prick. He was close, fucking close, he
just needed a little something extra.

All the old tricks weren’t working, though. He rubbed his

thumb over the head, he pressed his nail against the glans, he
pushed his finger into his slit. Reaching down, he jostled his balls,
then tugged them gently. Nothing. Nothing was working.

Only one thing worked lately and Ryan resisted it; he kept

jacking, hand going faster, faster.

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CHAPTER 5

DJ was halfway through Odd Thomas when it got too scary,

too unnerving. God. He knew better than to listen to Dean Koontz
at night.

A sudden knocking had him jumping out of his skin. Jesus.

Jesus. Who the fuck had gotten past Frank downstairs?

“Walter, come here, boy.” He walked to the door, hands

shaking. “Wh…who…who is it?”

“DJ? It’s Ryan man. Ryan Coulter.”
“Ryan?” He hurried to the door, frowning. “Is everything

okay?” He pulled the door open, the scent of Ryan warm, familiar
already.

“No, not really. Everything’s not okay.” Ryan cleared his

throat. “Can I come in?”

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“Sure. Absolutely. Come on.” He stepped back, frowning as

Ryan didn’t come in. “Ryan?”

“DJ, there’s no lights on.”
“Oh. Sorry. Sorry, right.” He fumbled for the lights. He heard

Ryan stepping in, the door closing behind the man.

“I guess you save a fortune on electricity.”
“I guess. What’s wrong?” He didn’t really want to make small

talk.

“I miss you.”
“What?” Was that all? He’d been happily listening to the

scariest book he’d heard in months, damn it.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m distracted at work.”
Well, what was DJ supposed to say to that? Good?
“You’re all I think about.” Ryan came closer; he could feel the

heat of the man. “I can’t shake you.”

He inhaled, breathing Ryan in. “I’m sorry?”
“No. Shit, I’m doing this all wrong.” Ryan’s hands landed on

his shoulders and the man pulled him in close, kissing him.

Oh. Oh, wow. DJ reached up, hands curling around Ryan’s

shoulders. Moaning, Ryan pushed him against the wall and
deepened the kiss. Oh, fuck. Ryan made him feel…sensual.
Sexual. Wanted. If only it was real.

It was that thought that had him arching up, away. “Ryan.

Ryan, we can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can.” Ryan pressed close again.
“I don’t want to be just a one-night thing.” Well, maybe he

could. Just this once. Twice, if you counted the hotel at Brian’s
wedding in the summer.

“You’re not. You’re all I’ve been able to think of. I can’t even

finish without thinking of you.”

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He didn’t know what to say to that, what to think.
Ryan touched his cheek, fingers gentle on his skin. “Can we go

sit?”

He caught himself leaning in, nodding. This was a terrible idea.
They sat on his couch and Ryan grabbed his hands, holding on

tight. “I’m… I’m…this is the scariest thing I’ve ever done, DJ.”

“Am I that scary, Ry?”
“Shit no, you’re the easy part.” He felt Ryan take a deep breath.

“Coming out, though… I talked to the owner of the team this
afternoon.”

Time stopped. “You did? Oh, baby. Are you okay? What

happened?”

“He stared at me for a long time and then asked if I was going

to tell the team. I told him I didn’t have to, but I wasn’t going to
hide who I was and I thought I owed it to the guys to be upfront
with them.”

DJ reached out for Ryan’s hands. “That had to be so hard for

you.” He couldn’t imagine, with how deeply Ryan had been
closeted. Poor man. How terrifying.

“I had to, DJ. You’re all I think of. I left you all those years ago

and buried how I felt and then I saw you and…” He felt Ry shrug.
“It’s not going to be put back in its box and buried again.”

“Did you…did they fire you?”
“No. Management won’t. It’s policy, though they’ve only ever

had  administrative  staff  who’re  gay.  It’s  the  guys  I’m  really
worried  about.  You’re  worth  it,  though,  DJ.  I  get  that  you  don’t
want to  stay hidden. I don’t want  to hide  you. You deserve to  be
shown off.”

“You…” Ryan had done this for him?
“I still love you, DJ.”

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“But…really? I’m blind, Ry.”
“What?” Ry sounded like he was honestly confused.
“I’m blind. I can’t see. I just… You could find someone…”

Better? “Sighted.”

“Wasn’t I clear? I love you, DJ. I’ve never loved anyone else.

Not in almost seven years.” Ryan cupped his cheek and he could
feel Ry’s gaze on him.

“You’re sure?” He wasn’t sure he believed it.
“I came out for you, DJ. You. Are you saying you don’t want

me now?”

“No. No, I’m just… This is so… I didn’t expect. Ever.”
“No, me neither. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the way

you taste.” Ry’s mouth covered his.

His hands landed on Ryan’s hips, holding on, thumbs sliding

on either side of the full cock.

“The way you make me feel… God, I’ve been dreaming of

this.” Ryan tugged on his lower lip, then turned it into a kiss, hands
running over his shoulders.

“Tell me you’re not lying to me.” He wanted to see Ryan’s

eyes.

“Jesus, DJ. I know I left you because I wouldn’t come out, but

I’ve never been a bastard.”

“I know. I know, but…” He could just scream. He didn’t want

to believe and then have it taken away from him. He didn’t think
he could cope with that. “I want to see you.”

“I can’t turn back time, DJ.”
“I know. Me either.” God knew, if he could…
“I’m here because I love you and I want to be with you. I

thought this would make you happy…”

“You walked out on me. I’ve been trying to forget about you

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again. I fucking love you so much and I can’t believe you’re here.”
Wait, was he yelling?

“I’m trying to make up for doing that to you. You said… Back

at the… Why are you yelling at me—I came out for you! I fucking
changed my entire life so I could come back and tell you I love
you.”

“I love you, too!” He surged forward, their foreheads clanging

together hard. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone!”

“Ow! Then why aren’t you fucking kissing me already?”
“Because we’re idiots.” He moaned, brought their lips together.
Ry didn’t argue with him, instead he pushed his tongue into

DJ’s mouth. He shoved Ryan back onto his couch, wrapping his
lips around Ryan’s tongue, sucking hard. Moaning, Ryan bucked
up against him, hands clutching at him.

God, he needed. He needed Ryan’s cock, hands, heart.
Ryan grabbed his shirt and yanked, pulling it open, and sending

buttons pinging across the room.

“Yours, too.” He scooted down, knees on the floor. “God,

baby. Yours, too.”

Ry whimpered at his words and began undressing. He tugged

off Ryan’s shoes, the socks, laughing when the man’s pants hit the
ground.

“One of us is overdressed now.” Ry’s fingers were rough as

they tugged at his jeans.

“Uh-huh.” He reached for Ry, fingers sliding on Ryan’s belly.

Ry’s abs rippled beneath his touch, another moan filling the air. “I
have a bed.” Not that they couldn’t do this on the couch. He liked
the couch.

“Just want you, DJ.”
“Right here.” He pushed between Ryan’s legs, cheek sliding on

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the man’s cock.

“Fuck! Yes. Please, DJ.” Ryan’s hands slid through his hair,

over his head.

He nodded, then simply opened up and took Ryan in, letting

the man in deep. Ryan cried out, hips bucking, pushing the hard
prick deeper. It was the easiest thing ever, to slide his hands under
Ryan’s ass, pull hard.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He didn’t have to pull for long. Ryan shouted

again and spunk poured down his throat.

He drank his lover—could it be true? Could Ryan be his?

Finally?—down.

Ryan panted, the prick in his mouth twitching. DJ cleaned the

sweet  cock  off,  humming  and  nuzzling  and  giving  it  all  he  had.
Ry’s  hands  slid  through  his  hair,  sweet  sounds  coming  down  on
him  like  blessings.  Then  Ryan  pulled  him  up,  dragging  him  onto
the sofa and into those warm arms.

“Want you, DJ. No. No, I need you.”
“I’m right here.” He brought their lips together, knowing Ryan

could taste himself there.

Groaning, Ryan deepened the kiss, tongue sliding through his

mouth as Ry’s hands slid down his back to grab his ass. He ground
down, his cock sliding on Ryan’s belly.

“Take me to your bed, DJ? I want to love you properly.”
“God, yes. Please.” He kissed Ryan’s chin. “The comforter is

wonderful, but don’t ask me what color it is.”

“I’ll tell you what color it is. If you care.” Ryan moved them so

they were standing.

He might have still wondered if this was real, but Ry kept

touching him, holding onto his hand. He led Ryan into the big
bedroom. It was simple, but huge, with a door to the balcony for

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Walter.

“It’s blue, like your eyes. The comforter, I mean.”
“My assistant picked it out.”
“She’s got good taste. Do I need to be jealous?”
“Possibly. Marlena has a beautiful brand new grandson. I hear

he’s the most wonderful thing ever.”

Ry had tightened up when he’d first started talking, but then he

relaxed and laughed. “Tease.”

“I told you, I’m looking for Mr. Right. I want forever.” He

wanted a partner, a lover, a husband. A life.

“And I’m looking for you. I thought my career meant more

than anything, but instead it didn’t mean anything without you. I
love you, DJ. Forever.”

“I hope you’re sure.”
“I hope you’ll believe it one day.”
“Me, too.” He drew Ryan down into the sheets.
Ryan lay on top of him, pressing him into his comforter and

rubbing against him,  body  hot and solid. It felt  like every  inch of
his  skin  was  being  explored,  adored.  Soft  kisses  pressed  over  his
lips,  then  his  jaw,  Ry  making  his  way  down,  very  slowly.  Those
hands mapped him, tickling his ribs, circling his nipples, spreading
his thighs.

He could feel Ry’s prick slowly firm up again, going from half

to fully hard and hot as Ry explored him.

“Needy man.”
There was no denial; Ry’s agreement was immediate. “Fuck,

yes.”

DJ snorted, reached down, fingers searching Ryan’s face. Ryan

bit at his fingertips, then soothed them with his tongue.

“You’re really here.” He’d been dreaming it, but he knew this

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had to be real. He could see when he dreamed.

“I am.” Ry pulled one of his fingers in, the suction going

straight to his balls.

“You are…” His ass left the bed. His prick slid along Ry’s

chest, hit his chin. “Ryan.” Oh, fuck. He was close.

“You want me, DJ?” Ry licked the tip of his cock.
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Ryan kissed his belly. “Where’s your stuff?’
“There’s slick in the drawer in the headboard. Rubbers are in

the bathroom.” He hoped.

Ryan gave him a short, hard kiss. “Back in a second.”
He pulled the comforter back, the fresh sheets. Were they doing

this? Really?

Ryan was there a moment later, stepping up against his back.

All he could do was moan, arch into the heat.

“Can’t wait to feel you inside me, Danny.” Only Ryan had ever

called him that. Ever.

“Are you going to ride me?” The idea of burying himself in

Ryan’s ass made him need to tug his balls.

“You know it. Gonna make you come inside me.” Ry pushed

him down onto the bed, dropped down next to him.

He settled on his back, thighs spreading, his cock slapping his

belly. Ry shifted and the next thing he knew his prick was
swallowed up, Ry’s head bobbing a couple of times before coming
off again with a wet sounding pop.

Then Ry put slick on DJ’s fingers. His eyes searched the

darkness, the need to see Ryan instinctive.

Ryan straddled his waist and drew his fingers down, placed

them against Ry’s crack. “Get me ready, Danny. Please.”

“No one’s called me Danny since you.”

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“Good. That’s ours.”
He slid his fingers down, fingertips sliding around that tight

hole. “Ours.”

“Uh-huh. Come on, I want to feel you.” Ry pushed against his

fingers.

His fingertips pushed in, spreading, surrounded by heat.
“Oh fuck!” Ry groaned, so tight around his fingers.
“Baby. Baby, you’re squeezing me. You’re going to be tight

around my cock.”

Ry’s answer was a moan, hands landing on his chest.
His fingers went deep and he curled them in the muscled

channel, searching for Ryan’s gland.

“Fuck!”
Bingo! DJ kept working it, focusing on nothing but touching

and stroking, over and over.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck.” Ry kept vocalizing, moving with him.

“Shit, you’re going to make me shoot if you’re not careful.”

“Wait for me. Wait
til I’m in you. I need you.” His fucking balls ached, his cock

leaking.

Ry rose up, letting his fingers go, and a condom was smoothed

down over his cock by Ry’s trembling fingers.

“Please, baby.” His balls drew up tight, aching.
Ry grabbed hold of his cock again, pressed it against that tight

hole. “In me, Danny. In me.”

Hands flailing for a moment, DJ searched for a place for them

to land, to settle. Grabbing his hands, Ry put one on his hip, the
other one on the man’s hot prick.

“So hard for me.” His hips rolled up.
A low, needy moan sounded, Ryan taking him all in. Oh, fuck.

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Hot. Tight. For a second DJ couldn’t even breathe.

“Danny. Danny. Oh, God. Oh, God.” Ryan sounded desperate.
His shoulders left the mattress, bucked up, pushing deep.

Crying out, Ryan came down hard on him. Shit, yes. They found a
restless, awkward rhythm, the mattress soft underneath him. He
jacked that sweet cock, pulling more moans, more shudders out of
Ryan.

Bending forward, Ry brought their mouths together, the kiss

wet and sloppy and perfect. He worked the tip of Ry’s cock, his
own need so close to the surface that he couldn’t bear it much
longer.

Ry pulled up and started bouncing on him, little movements

that matched the sounds Ryan made.

“Soon. Soon, baby.” He couldn’t hold on.
“Yeah. Please. Oh, God.” Ryan slammed down on him one

more time, and come sprayed out of him.

DJ sobbed, head tossing as he bucked up, drove into Ryan’s

perfect body. The ripples drew up, all around his cock, pulling his
come out of him.

Ryan collapsed down onto him, breath panting over his neck.

“Danny. Love. Fuck.”

“Uh-huh.” Also, wow.
They panted together for awhile, and then Ryan shifted, sliding

off him and getting rid of the condom from around his prick.

“I… Have you eaten, baby?”
“Are you hungry?” countered Ryan. “We could order Chinese

or Italian or something.”

“I’d love that. I have Mama Lu’s on speed dial.”
“Perfect. I don’t care what you order for mains, as long as

there’s tiramisu for dessert.”

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“I’ll see what Kim says.” He sat up, reached for his phone, and

pressed one.

* * *

Something wet was licking his face. Wet and cold-nosed. Ryan

groaned and batted at his own face, connecting with a furry
muzzle. What the— Oh. Right. Walter. He was at DJ’s. In fact, he
was in bed with DJ.

He wrinkled his nose when his lips were licked again. “Go
way, Walter.”
“Walter, go outside and do your business.” DJ sat up, hair

going every which way. “You sleep okay?”

Ry blinked as Walter did as he was told, going out onto the

balcony through what turned out was a doggie door.

“Yeah, really good. You?” He slid his hand through DJ’s hair.
“You snuggle. It’s wonderful.”
He chuckled. He hadn’t known he was a snuggler. He’d never

really had a chance. Even when he and DJ had been together,
there’d always been the fear they’d be caught. This was new, being
able to linger, touch, not worry. It was…luxurious. It was magical.
It was fucking his.

Danny’s room was big, open, with lots of wall space for

someone with an interest in art, with a collection of weird neon
signs. He wondered how DJ might feel about sharing this place
with him someday.

He’d been so worried ever since he’d decided to really do this.

Talking to the owner, and then his immediate boss, hadn’t really
alleviated that. Only DJ had. He’d been more worried about Danny
rejecting him than coming out, and that was saying something.

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“Man, I want to kiss you, but your dog just macked all over

me.”

DJ snorted, then started laughing, hard. “God, I missed you!”
He popped DJ in the arm and got up. “Back in a minute. I’m

gonna steal your toothbrush.”

“There should be a stash of travel toiletries in there. Just don’t

move anything.”

“’Kay.”
He found the en suite just off the bedroom and found the travel

toothbrush. He did his teeth and his business and hightailed it back
to his lover. His lover.

DJ was standing at the window, the light not making the man

flinch at all. He was going to have to learn all the things DJ
needed, how to help, how to make things easier; he could live with
that.

He went up to DJ and stood behind him, mouth dropping to the

warm neck.

“No regrets?” DJ leaned into him, rested hard.
“Yeah, I’ve got one.” He felt DJ stiffen, but refused to let go of

the man. “I should have done this sooner.”

DJ’s fingers twined with his, holding on.
“Sorry it took so long. I can be a bit…uh, stubborn.”
His Danny snorted. “No… You?”
“Don’t make me beat you.”
“I’m not scared of you, Ry. Not a bit.” Danny leaned back into

him, a warm smile on his face. “How long can you stay?”

“I have to be at work at two. I should be done around nine

tonight, though.”

“Yeah? You want to have supper?”
“Uh-huh. I can pick something up on the way over.” He

WALLFLOWERS

pressed kisses along DJ’s shoulders and neck.

“Oh. Okay, that sounds…” DJ’s head fell forward, a soft moan

sounded. He licked and nibbled, humming at the flavor.

He wanted this—every morning, every night. He wanted to be

able to touch, laugh, be a part of something bigger, damn it.
Something bigger with Danny.

He hadn’t realized just how big a burden being in the closet

was until  now that it was gone. Yeah,  he was  stressed  about how
people  were  going  to  take  it,  about  whether  or  not  he  was  still
going  to  have  a  job,  but  that  was  still  lighter  than  the  tension  he
hadn’t  realized  had  lived  inside  him  until  now,  when  he  didn’t
have it anymore.

“Would you… You interested in going out for breakfast?

Together?” DJ’s words were soft, tentative.

Ryan took a deep breath and nodded, then stopped himself to

answer out loud instead. “I’d like that.” He had to get used to it,
right? Besides, it would make DJ happy.

“You don’t have to. I have eggs, a microwave.”
“No, we’ll go out. I’m not ashamed to be seen with you.” He

wasn’t. He loved this man and having people know was way better
than being too scared to be seen together in public. Being scared
sucked. Being in love didn’t.

“Are you sure?”
“Danny…” He growled a little and smacked DJ’s ass. “Get

dressed already.”

“Bastard.” DJ reached back, pinched him. “Be good.”
He made an unmanly sound at the pinch and took a couple of

steps back. “And here I thought I was being good.” Grinning, he
looked around for his own clothes. “I think my stuff is still in the
living room.”

WALLFLOWERS

“Yep. Slut boy.” DJ’s lips were twisted, the laughter right

there.

He grabbed a pillow, shouted “incoming,” and tossed it at DJ’s

back. Walter came barrelling in, grabbed the pillow with his teeth
and shook it, wagging furiously. Ryan laughed, leaning against the
doorjamb as he watched the dog battle the pillow. DJ sat on the
bed, cackling, then grunting as Walter pushed into the man’s arms
for love.

Still smiling, Ryan went into the living room, picking up his

and DJ’s clothes and bringing them back into the bedroom. “I’m
going to have to go commando.” He wasn’t putting yesterday’s
underwear back on.

“I do have a washer and dryer. Also, I have a bunch of clean

pairs.”

“You don’t like the thought of me going commando? Where’s

your sense of adventure?” He pulled his jeans on and considered
his shirt. “I will take a T-shirt, though.”

“Sure. In the third drawer down.”
He walked over and the shirts were in there—one row black,

one row navy blue, one row dark gray. “Danny. I am so buying
you T-shirts. Birthdays, Christmas, Arbor Day…”

“What? I have T-shirts, don’t I?”
“Sure. Plain black, plain blue, and plain dark gray.” He grabbed

one of the black ones and put it on. He was stretching it a bit, but
not a whole lot. “Boring, DJ.”

“Like I could tell.” DJ chuckled and winked. “I have Marlena

keep them easy and organized.”

“I’ll get you some from the team to start with and build your

collection from there.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You
ready to go? Do we need to feed Walter first or anything?”

WALLFLOWERS

“He eats at night. I just need to harness him up.” Danny’s

closet was just as meticulous as the drawers.

“Should I know how to do it?”
Danny stopped, stared toward him. “You want to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He was with DJ now, wasn’t he? He

needed to learn shit like that, and probably tons more besides.

“That’s really neat. No one’s ever asked before.”
Oh. Cool. He was glad to be special. At the same time, it made

him want to growl a little. What kind of jerks had DJ been dating
that they didn’t care to learn how to be a part of his life?

“So show me.”
“Okay. Okay, sure. He knows he’s at work when he has his

halter on…”

Danny kept talking as they headed into the main room and

Ryan stopped, grinned. It was going to be okay.

It was.
He’d trusted in his heart and it was going to work out.

WALLFLOWERS

EPILOGUE

So, the arena was loud. Really loud. DJ was incredibly grateful

Marlena had agreed to sit with him—he’d put Ry off as long as he
could, but they’d been together eight months. Hell, they’d been
living together for two and Ryan was just insistent that he show up
tonight.

So, here they were. Him, Marlena, and Walter.
“Are we doing well?”
“I think so.” Marlena was the least… sporty person DJ knew.

“All the players left the field, it might be over… No, wait
halftime.”

“Oh, cool. Ryan said he’d be up here for that, maybe.”
There was a roar and then the crowd quietened down.
“There’s a couple people in the middle of the field. I don’t

WALLFLOWERS

know why.”

“That’s the head coach,” the guy on the other side of Marlene

informed them.

Anything else was drowned out by the loudspeaker. “Hey,

Cyclones fans. We’re having a good game so far!”

The fans screamed their agreement.
“I want to introduce you to one of our magicians here who

makes sure the guys are in top physical shape. Ryan Coulter. He’s
got a question for someone in the audience.”

Oh! Oh, that was his baby! DJ leaned over, whispered to

Marlena. “Is he gorgeous?”

She laughed and patted his hand. “Not as cute as you, honey.”
“Flatterer.” Marlena had taken to Ryan easily, once the whole

“don’t mess with a blind man’s stuff” situation had been fixed.

Her chuckle was drowned out by Ryan’s voice.
“Thanks, Bert. So, there’s someone very special in the audience

today.” Ry’s voice sounded a bit strange over the loudspeaker, but
it was still his baby. “DJ, I told them where you were sitting and
they said they’d get you up on the Jumbotron so I can see your
answer.”

“Oh, my God! We’re on the big TV!” Marlena squealed.
“What? What’s going on? Ry?”
The crowd suddenly shouted and Marlena grabbed his arm.

“He’s on one knee.”

“Oh, my God.” His heart stopped a little.
“Daniel James Delout. I love you with all my heart and I want

to spend the rest of our lives together. Will you marry me?”

The crowd was quiet and DJ stopped, stood, eyes so wide

behind his dark glasses that they hurt at the corners. “Oh, Ryan.
Yes. God, yes. Please.”

WALLFLOWERS

The screams of applause were so big they were almost painful.
Marlena, still clutching his arm, spoke right into his ear. “He’s

coming up the stairs, honey.”

“Oh. Okay. Okay, good. Hold Walter?”
“You got it, honey. I’ll take pictures.”
Like he cared about that.
Suddenly Ryan was there, hands on his arms. “You did say yes,

right?”

“I did say yes, right. I meant it, too.”
“Thank God.” Ry’s mouth covered his.
DJ pushed into the familiar, welcoming embrace, the sound of

the crowd disappearing. They kissed until he was breathless and
then Ry rested their foreheads together.

“I love you, Danny.”
“Love you, baby. I guess you have to go back to work now,

huh?”

“Nope.” Ryan took his hand and slid something on it.
“No?” His fingers traced the ring—it was smooth, satiny.

Heavy.

“I kind of have the rest of the week off starting now.”
“Oh. I kind of have a few thousand kisses to share with you,

then.”

Ryan laughed, the sound happy, free. “How did I ever survive

without you?”

“I have no idea,” he teased. “You must have been miserable.”
“Yeah, I was.” Ry gave him a quick hug.
“Congratulations you, two!”
“Thanks, Marlena.”
“Thanks, lady. I think it’s time for us to go.” He wanted a long,

leisurely dinner—preferably naked together, on their bed.

WALLFLOWERS

“You can stay if you like, Marlena. Those are VIP tickets,

which means you can go to the owner’s box and have some food,
some champagne, anything you want.”

“Oh, I might. There are some pretty men here.”
DJ stroked Ryan’s arm. “There are.”
Ry’s chuckle was happy and Ry squeezed his arm. “Let’s get

out of here, DJ. I have a much more private celebration in mind.”

“God, yes. Yes, let’s go home, huh, Walter?”
Walter’s soft woof was almost lost in the crowd.
Ryan took his hand and he grabbed onto Walter and they made

their way up the stairs and through the halls behind the seats, the
sounds of the crowd fading away. He could feel the ring, heavy
and new on his finger, a promise.

“Baby?”
“Yeah, Danny?”
“Do we have to have our frat brothers at our wedding?”

EAN

ICHAEL

Often  referred  to  as  “Space  Cowboy”  and  “Gangsta  of  Love”  while
still  striving  for the  moniker  of  “Maurice,”  Sean  Michael  spends  his
days  surfing,  smutting,  organizing  his  immense  gourd  collection  and
fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded  island peopled
entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage
gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between
dropping the  f-bomb and pursuing the  Kama Sutra by  channeling the
long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack
to Chicago.

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, Sean is currently attempting
to learn the advanced arts of plate-spinning and soap-carving sex toys.

Barring  any  of  that?  He’ll  stick  with  writing  his  stories,  thanks,  and
rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

To learn more about Sean, please visit: www.seanmichaelwrites.com.

* * *

Don’t miss Full Disclosure

by Sean Michael,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Samuel Cavanaugh never thought the hardest part about being a
lawyer would be keeping an administrative assistant, but with Jeannie
on pregnancy leave, he’s gone through five since he became a partner.

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