Honeymoon for One: Gay Romance

As Ethan stripped off his clothes, Clay fumbled with his own, his heart in his throat. He wasn’t sure why this seemed so momentous since they’d already done so much with their mouths and hands, but…it did.

Ethan gently batted Clay’s hands away from the buttons on his uniform shirt. He undid them deftly, pressing kisses to Clay’s lips as he worked. After he pulled the shirt down over Clay’s arms and tossed it on the chair in the corner, he tugged up the hem of Clay’s undershirt.

Clay lifted his arms over his head, and the singlet flew toward the chair as well. Biting his full bottom lip, Ethan ran his hands over Clay’s hairy chest and murmured, “I love your body.”

“Not as fit as I was,” Clay muttered, sucking in his soft belly. Ethan frowned, turning his head and jutting his chin forward the way he did when he couldn’t hear. Laughing self-consciously, Clay repeated himself.

Ethan didn’t laugh. Looking at Clay evenly, he said again, “I. Love. Your. Body.” His hands dipped lower, around Clay’s middle and up his back. He pressed his lips to Clay’s collarbone. “I love your freckles, and your big, strong shoulders.”

He walked around Clay, his hands firm so Clay didn’t turn with him. His lips traced the ridges of Clay’s back and spine, then over the tattoo. From behind, he unzipped Clay’s trousers and pulled them down with his briefs. Clay stepped out of them and gave them a blind kick.

Ethan’s hands dipped lower, those long, beautiful fingers tracing the crack of Clay’s arse. His mouth followed, kissing lightly, and Clay’s knees trembled, his prick swelling. Ethan kissed the back of Clay’s thighs, his fingers drawing nameless patterns.

When Ethan came around to stand in front of Clay, cock flushed and straining, he kissed Clay’s mouth again and whispered, “See how hard you make me without even being touched?”

Clay could only moan and draw him close for another long kiss, diving his tongue into Ethan’s mouth, swallowing the gorgeous little whimpers he made.

They were both breathing hard when Ethan asked, “Do you want to fuck me?”

He made sure not to mutter. “Yes.”

“So, I bought condoms the other day, just in case. Because I really want you inside me. If you want that.”

He gave Ethan a smile. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” He tingled with excitement. Sex with Barb had never done much for him, but the idea of being inside Ethan like that… Well, inside him in a bit of a different way, but Clay imagined the mechanics were similar.

Ethan licked his lips. “Okay. Cool.”

It was still so new and exciting and hard to believe that he had Ethan. Want to make him mine forever. There was that deep, primal instinct again, and Clay told it to zip up. He’d surely frighten Ethan away if he started talking about forever.

Tomorrow doesn’t exist.

“Okay,” Ethan repeated, breathing quickly, his eyes bright and eager. “And I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it, so if it’s too much at some point, or you don’t like it, we can stop. Obviously.” He’d been speaking in a rush, and he broke off. “I’ll stop babbling now.”

“I like it.”

“The idea of fucking me, or my babbling?”

Clay grinned, lust simmering through him along with a rush of affection. “Both.” He added, “I like everything about you,” because it was the plain truth.

That earned him a deep kiss, Ethan throwing his arms around Clay. They rutted against each other, their hard cocks meeting. Groaning, Ethan broke free, his lips shiny with spit.

“Don’t want to come yet.” Holding Clay’s hand, he backed up to the bed, letting go to rifle through his smaller suitcase, then crawl onto the mattress. He stretched out on his back, dropping a foil packet and bottle beside him. Clay felt like the luckiest bloke in the world that he got to have this.

Ethan lifted his hand. “I want to see you while you’re inside me.”

“We can do it like that?” He shook his head, laughing. “I’m clueless, aren’t I?”

But Ethan didn’t laugh at him. “I’ll show you. C’mere.”

Heart like a drum, Clay moved on top of him. He reveled in the sensation of Ethan’s body hair rubbing against him, of his lean, firm limbs and chest. “Love your body too,” Clay said.

He knew Ethan liked to have his nipples touched, so he dipped his head to suck them, feeling victorious when he scraped his teeth across one and Ethan arched his back on a high moan.

The ceiling fan was on, beating a steady rhythm, the air ghosting over Clay’s hot skin. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck, and Ethan’s fingers worked through Clay’s hair as Clay nipped and scraped his nipples until they were red and peaked.

“Here,” Ethan panted, easing Clay’s head up and passing him the bottle. “Get your fingers slick. Take your watch off first.” He smiled, face flushed. “Don’t want to get it lube-y.”

While Clay squirted the gel onto his right index and middle fingers, Ethan wriggled beneath him, drawing his spread legs up so his knees were practically to his shoulders. Clay sat up to give him more room.

“You’re sure I won’t hurt you like this?” Mouth dry, he eyed Ethan’s arse, deliciously exposed.

“I’m very bendy. I want to see your face.” He drew Clay near for a kiss, then whispered, “Ease one finger inside me.”

Nodding, Clay circled Ethan’s hole with his index finger, getting the whorls of hair there goopy with lube. Ethan didn’t seem to mind, urging him on until the tip of Clay’s finger was pushing into him.

“Like that, uh-huh,” Ethan muttered. “More. Stretch me. Get me ready for your cock. Need all of it.”

They were really doing this, and the thought of his cock fitting into the tight heat clamping his finger was both impossible and irresistible. Clay pushed a little harder, and his whole finger slid in.

“God, that’s it,” Ethan moaned. “Crook your finger. Find the little—” He nearly came off the bed as he cried out. “Yes, right there.”

Ethan’s cock was leaking, and Clay leaned forward to catch the drops on his tongue. Ethan groaned and demanded, “Push another finger in.”

Again, it seemed impossible, yet Ethan’s arse stretched to take him in. It must have damn well hurt, and sure enough, Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. But when Clay started to ease out, Ethan’s eyes popped open.

“No. It’s so good. Please.”

So Clay kept his fingers inside, licking at Ethan’s balls, the trimmed hair scratching his nose. But Ethan had said he didn’t want to come too soon, and the way he was panting, Clay had a feeling he was close.

Clay drew back, inching out his fingers and reaching for the lube again. He asked, “You ready for me?”

Ethan’s eyes had closed, and he refocused on Clay. “Sorry. Can you say that again?”

Feeling silly at saying it again, Clay’s cheeks got hot. “Asked if you were ready for me.”

“Am I ready to be plowed with your big, hot cock?” He grinned mischievously. “Was that the question?”

Clay laughed, relaxing a few degrees. “Yes, you bugger. That was the question.”

“My tight ass is so ready to be buggered.”

Trying not to shake with the adrenaline pumping through him, Clay ripped open the foil and rolled the condom on, slicking it with lube. Ethan pulled Clay closer, kissing him and reaching down to line up Clay’s cock with his arse. He wriggled again, tilting his hips even more.

The head of Clay’s prick nudged at Ethan’s arse, and now neither of them were laughing. Nodding, Ethan urged Clay’s hands to his bent thighs. “Keep me open. Push inside.”

Clay did as he was told, wincing as he felt the resistance inside Ethan. “What does it feel like?”

“It burns, but you feel so good. It’ll be worth it. Just a bit farther, and then—yes!” Ethan dropped his head back, groaning as Clay pushed all the way into him.

“Jesus!” Clay exclaimed, the heat gripping him better than anything he’d ever felt. Because it was Ethan. Clay was actually inside him. Yeah, he’d been in Ethan’s mouth, but this was different. He was seated in him right at his very core.

He was actually fucking another bloke. And not just any bloke—Ethan. The best bloke there was. That they were sharing this made Clay want to shout for joy and cry at the thought of Ethan leaving. But tomorrow didn’t exist, so he refocused on the now.

Ethan’s throat worked, and Clay wanted to lick his Adam’s apple, but he didn’t have a chance. Ethan raised his head, squeezing around Clay with his inner muscles and making him shudder.

Ethan grasped at Clay’s hips. “Move. Please. Need more.”

“Right.” Clay inched back and rocked in gently. “God, you feel incredible.”

“You’re so hot inside me. The stretch is…” He broke off on a moan. Sweat dripped into the hollow of Ethan’s throat, and Clay did lean down now and lick, loving the burst of salt on his tongue.

Ethan tugged Clay’s hair roughly and demanded a kiss as Clay fucked into him with shallow thrusts. “Harder,” he panted. “Please.” He pulled back so their eyes met, his pupils almost black with lust. “You won’t hurt me. I promise.”

Muscles tensing, Clay pulled halfway out and slammed back in, his balls slapping against Ethan’s arse cheeks. They both moaned, and Clay asked, “You like that, sweetheart?”

But Ethan didn’t hear him over his own grunts and cries, and it seemed pretty darn clear that yes, Ethan liked that. A lot. He was so tight and warm and perfect, and Clay lost himself in him, fucking Ethan until he knew he was going to spill.

Ethan wrapped his long legs around Clay’s waist, his eyes glazed as he panted. When Clay reached between them to jack him off, Ethan gasped, his prick like iron in Clay’s grasp. It only took a few strokes before he spurted, his mouth open and eyes shut.

Ethan shook with his release, and he squeezed down on Clay, the pressure so hot and right. Taking Clay’s face in his hands, Ethan ordered, “Come inside me. Imagine there’s no condom and you’re going to fill me up until your cum’s dripping out.”

“Bloody hell,” Clay muttered, slamming into Ethan again before his orgasm crashed through him like a cyclone. He shuddered, deep inside Ethan, Ethan’s legs tight around him. Ethan held him there as Clay trembled through the aftershocks. He buried his face in Ethan’s neck, gasping against his skin.

When he finally lifted his head, he eased out his softening prick and tossed the condom. It was wet and messy down between them, but Clay was in no rush to clean up. He nuzzled Ethan’s flushed cheek. “It felt good, did it?” he couldn’t resist asking just to make sure it hadn’t hurt too much.

Ethan grinned. “It sure did. If you want to try it sometime…” He burst out laughing. “I can already feel you clenching your ass at the thought.”

Clay laughed too. “Not sure I’m ready for that tonight.” Even though tomorrow doesn’t exist.

Ethan smiled and kissed him gently. “That’s okay. Meanwhile, rest up. Because you are definitely fucking me again tonight.”

“Can we order dinner first?” Clay teased.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“Have to get my energy up after that.” He frowned. “You’re sure it won’t hurt too much?”

“I want to feel you tomorrow.”

There it was, the reminder that tomorrow did exist, and time was slipping away. They both knew it, but they stopped talking and kissed instead, trying to forget for just a little while longer.

Of course tomorrow arrived, the bastard.

They’d stayed up long past midnight, and Ethan barely stirred when Clay dragged himself from the cocoon of their bed before dawn. Ethan’s arse had to be sore after he’d ridden Clay’s cock like a cowboy on a bull. Clay’s chest hair was caked with dried semen, and he smiled to himself as he quickly scrubbed in the shower.

Oh, how he wished he could chuck a sickie, but he’d be leaving twenty people high and dry on their holiday, not to mention the company wouldn’t be best pleased, to say the least.

When Clay pressed a kiss to Ethan’s tousled head, Ethan murmured, but didn’t wake. Clay had been tiptoeing around the room as he got ready, and realized belatedly that he needn’t have since Ethan didn’t have his hearing aids in and was far away in dreamland. If only Clay could join him.

He gave himself a shake. Time to get going and stop wishing for what couldn’t be. Gilly barked and whined when Clay left, and guilt tugged. But Ethan would be taking him for a walk soon, and they’d have a nice day together.

Clay let himself mope on the drive into Sydney, but once he had the coach and passengers, he forced a smile. He had a job to do.

Hours later, after an accident closed two lanes and made Clay perilously late fetching Ethan—and taking away the time they’d had for dinner—Clay stood off to the side as Ethan checked his bags in at the ticket counter. Clay had changed into his customary shorts and T-shirt. He slipped his foot in and out of his thong, fiddling with it anxiously, his hands in his pockets.

It had all been a rush, and they hadn’t spoken much on the drive, both tense. Now here they were, and soon Ethan would have to go through security, and that would be it. Sure, they could text and FaceTime, have a chat. But they had separate lives. They had to be realistic.

Didn’t they?

With each passing second as Clay watched Ethan at the ticket counter, cupping his hand behind his ear, the woman not speaking clearly enough, a word echoed through Clay. It grew stronger with each dull thud of his heart.

No.

No.

No.

When Ethan approached, Clay led him close to the wall in the long, narrow departures hall, as far away from the noise as possible even though they were still out in the open. Clay’s head was light, his body thrumming with a strange energy. He stared at Ethan—at this brave, beautiful man who had burst into Clay’s life and changed it forever. Clay hadn’t even known how lost he was, but being found was more profound than he ever could have imagined.

Reality could bugger itself.

Ethan frowned at him questioningly, clear concern shining in his eyes. “Clay?”

“I don’t want you to go.” The words were barely a whisper, his throat too dry.

His frown deepening, Ethan fiddled with his hearing aids and moved so his back was to the departures hall. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Yes, he certainly could. Clearing his throat, Clay spoke clearly. “I don’t want you to go.” He shook his head. “I don’t care if we’ve only just met. I don’t care if it’s foolish. Don’t go.”

Face lighting up, Ethan grasped Clay’s hand, threading their fingers together tightly. “I don’t want to go either. I know we’re supposed to be mature and reasonable, and realistic, and all that shit. And I know we just met, and you’re discovering who you are, and you should probably date other people—”

“Bugger that.” Clay took a shaky breath, squeezing Ethan’s fingers. He glanced around at the people walking by or waiting in lines to see if anyone was in earshot, but then shook his head. “I don’t care who knows it. I’m a queer. This is who I am.” Clay pondered it for a moment. “Is that the way people say it? Or is it just ‘queer’?”

Ethan’s cheeks dimpled, and he reached for Clay’s other hand, gripping it. “Usually just ‘queer,’ but you can identify yourself however you want. Or not. You get to decide.”

“Well, I’m not sure about the rest of it, but I know I’m not straight. Because I’ve never fancied anyone the way I do you. I don’t want to date other people. Not those women on Sam’s websites, or any other blokes. You’re the one.”

If Clay was going to know these truths—own them—he was going all-in. His voice was hoarse, but he tried to speak clearly, drawing Ethan closer so the tips of their shoes touched. “For years, I didn’t know myself. I just went along and did the thing I reckoned I was supposed to. If I do what I’m supposed to now, then I’ll say hoo-roo and you’ll go back to America. And we’ll probably never see each other again, and people will say that’s how it should be because this was just a holiday fling, and there’s too much of a gap between us since you’re barely older than my kids.”

Ethan’s hands trembled in Clay’s. “Right. And I’m on the rebound, and we don’t have enough in common, and how will I get a job down here? We’d have to figure out my visa, and what if things don’t work out?”

“All valid points, I reckon.” His heart hammered so hard he could hear it. He shook his head, blurting, “And I don’t give a stuff about any of it! I’m bloody falling in love with you. Might already be there.” Shit, he’d said it.

And he knew it was true.

But Ethan frowned, and Clay’s stomach dropped and twisted. He’d gone too far and buggered it up, hadn’t he? He’d frightened Ethan off and—

“Sorry, you have to say that again.” Ethan glared at a group of people passing by with their luggage trolleys, laughing and whooping it up. “More slowly? I didn’t get any of it.” He squeezed Clay’s hands, giving him a nervous smile.

Taking a deep breath, Clay spoke clearly, his heart still pounding as he sliced open his chest and laid it bare. “I said I don’t give a stuff about doing what we’re supposed to. Don’t give a stuff what other people think. Don’t give a stuff that I’m too old for you. I love you, Ethan.”

Ethan stared at him for endless seconds. “You… You love me?”

“Yes. Can you still not hear me?” He glanced around, looking for a spot, but there were people all over. “Hell, what if we go to the loo? Should be quieter in there?”

“No, no, I heard you this time.” Ethan’s eyes were glistening, and his smile quivered. “I just wanted to make sure it was real.”

“It’s real.” Clay clutched Ethan’s hands. “I know it.”

“I love you too. I don’t care if it’s too fast.”

Clay could have flapped his arms and flown to the ceiling, pure joy bursting in him. “Can you say it again? Wouldn’t mind hearing it twice.”

Bouncing on his toes, Ethan grinned. “I’m in love with you, Clay Kelly.”

Clay yanked Ethan into his arms, hugging him like his life depended on it. Because it did. It really did. Ethan clutched him, and Clay was about to pull back and kiss him when he spotted a family walking by, the parents frowning and muttering something, the kids gawking.

He suddenly felt like everyone was looking, so he skipped the kiss, easing back from the hug. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but his face was hot, skin itching with the stares of people nearby.

Ethan’s brow creased, and he glanced around. He smiled softly. “It’s okay. PDA takes a while to get used to.”

“Shouldn’t let them bother me, I know.”

“One step at a time.” Ethan gave him another sweet, understanding smile.

“You’ve been so patient. You sure you want to put up with me?”

Ethan grinned now. “I’m a hundred percent sure.”

“Yeah?” Clay’s heart was ready to burst. “Why should we end things when they’re just getting started, right?”

“Exactly. Why should we do what we’re ‘supposed’ to do? I already tried that. Thought I’d fix everything in my life by marrying Michael and doing what we were supposed to. Fuck it. I don’t want to go. I mean, I have to go tonight because I can’t quit my job without notice. But I want to come back. I want to be with you. Are we crazy?”

“Reckon there’s only one way to find out.”

“Right.” Ethan shrugged, grinning. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? It doesn’t work out, and I end up going back to the States. Or staying here if I have a job. I think it’s an acceptable risk.”

Pulse racing, Clay said, “I’ll help pay for your flight back. You’ll move in with me. Sam’s probably ready to live with Jase. We’ll figure it out. I’ll talk to my boss and tell him I can’t do the long hauls anymore. Whatever it takes, we’ll make this happen.”

“We will. Fuck the real world. We’re going to make it our bitch.” He lifted his hand for a high five, and Clay slapped his palm, laughing.

If the real world didn’t like it, it could get stuffed along with everyone else.