“H AVE YOU seen my lucky socks?”
Ty lifted his gaze from his laptop screen and his Saturday-morning newsfeed. He sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Did you check the dryer?”
His boyfriend, Micah, placed his hands on his slim hips and looked around their apartment. He scrunched his nose, then pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, this morning. They weren’t in there.”
“Check under the couch. I think the last time you wore them we ended up having celebratory blowjobs under the hand-knitted afghan Grandma made us.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Micah said, snapping his fingers.
Ty smiled and watched as Micah padded into the living room on bare feet and crouched down on his hands and knees. Craning his neck to appreciate the view, Ty nearly dropped his mug when Micah wiggled to reach under the cushions. Even after three years together, Ty still experienced a thrilling rush of heat at the sight of Micah’s ass in the air.
“Found them!” Micah said, as he emerged victorious from halfway under the couch. He brandished the rainbow-striped knee socks in Ty’s direction. “I know you were checking me out while I was under there.”
Ty shrugged, blushing. “What can I say? You have a great ass.”
“Well, this ass is going to be late if I don’t get a move on.” Micah grinned as he quickly moved around the living room, gathering his gear for his hockey game. He went to shove his socks in his bag, stopped, sniffed them, and made a face. “Ugh.”
Ty stood and walked into the living room. “Take a shower after you wear those. There will be nothing celebratory if you don’t.”
“Noted.” Micah grabbed the rest of his hockey equipment. He picked up his skates and draped them over one shoulder, his bag on the other. He slipped on his shoes and took his keys from the ceramic clamshell on the bookshelf near the door. “You’re coming to watch, right?”
Smiling, Ty nodded. Micah asked every game, despite Ty never missing one. “Of course.”
“Good. Now give me my lucky kiss before I go.”
Ty crowded Micah against the door, pressed his body close, and cupped Micah’s face in his palms. He ran a thumb over one of Micah’s cheekbones, then slowly leaned in and licked across his mouth.
Micah flinched back, knocking his head against the door. “Oh my God, why would you do that? That was disgusting.” He smacked his lips. “Also you taste like coffee.”
Chuckling, Ty dropped his forehead to Micah’s. “You should have seen your face.”
“You’re a jerk. All I want is a kiss for luck from my boyfriend, and I get Beethoven’s tongue.”
That made Ty laugh even harder. “Beethoven?”
“Yeah, the Saint Bernard, not the composer. Though I don’t think I’d appreciate tongue from either.”
“You’re a mess,” Ty said. “Come here.” This time he granted Micah a sweet, lush kiss. Though the longer it went on, the dirtier it became—openmouthed and deep. Ty heard Micah’s bag drop to the floor before Micah pulled gently away, panting.
“I’m going to be really late if you keep that up.”
“I better stop, then.”
“You better,” Micah breathed, then leaned in and kissed Ty again. With his free hand, he reached around and grabbed Ty’s ass, pulling him flush while nipping at Ty’s lips. Micah rolled his hips, and Ty bit back a moan as his dick went from slightly hopeful to fully interested. Just as Ty was getting into it, his heart pounding, squeezing Micah’s hips, Micah broke the kiss and danced away, an impish smile on his lips.
He opened their apartment door and grabbed his bag from the floor, then slid out.
“See you at puck drop!”
And then he was gone, the little tease.
Ty swayed in place for a moment, then leaned against the door. He adjusted himself in his jeans and laughed lightly.
Micah was always a whirlwind, chaotic and beautiful. Ty had fallen in love instantly. Micah possessed a wild spirit Ty found liberating and a refreshing change
Ty lifted his gaze from his laptop screen and his Saturday-morning newsfeed. He sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Did you check the dryer?”
His boyfriend, Micah, placed his hands on his slim hips and looked around their apartment. He scrunched his nose, then pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, this morning. They weren’t in there.”
“Check under the couch. I think the last time you wore them we ended up having celebratory blowjobs under the hand-knitted afghan Grandma made us.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Micah said, snapping his fingers.
Ty smiled and watched as Micah padded into the living room on bare feet and crouched down on his hands and knees. Craning his neck to appreciate the view, Ty nearly dropped his mug when Micah wiggled to reach under the cushions. Even after three years together, Ty still experienced a thrilling rush of heat at the sight of Micah’s ass in the air.
“Found them!” Micah said, as he emerged victorious from halfway under the couch. He brandished the rainbow-striped knee socks in Ty’s direction. “I know you were checking me out while I was under there.”
Ty shrugged, blushing. “What can I say? You have a great ass.”
“Well, this ass is going to be late if I don’t get a move on.” Micah grinned as he quickly moved around the living room, gathering his gear for his hockey game. He went to shove his socks in his bag, stopped, sniffed them, and made a face. “Ugh.”
Ty stood and walked into the living room. “Take a shower after you wear those. There will be nothing celebratory if you don’t.”
“Noted.” Micah grabbed the rest of his hockey equipment. He picked up his skates and draped them over one shoulder, his bag on the other. He slipped on his shoes and took his keys from the ceramic clamshell on the bookshelf near the door. “You’re coming to watch, right?”
Smiling, Ty nodded. Micah asked every game, despite Ty never missing one. “Of course.”
“Good. Now give me my lucky kiss before I go.”
Ty crowded Micah against the door, pressed his body close, and cupped Micah’s face in his palms. He ran a thumb over one of Micah’s cheekbones, then slowly leaned in and licked across his mouth.
Micah flinched back, knocking his head against the door. “Oh my God, why would you do that? That was disgusting.” He smacked his lips. “Also you taste like coffee.”
Chuckling, Ty dropped his forehead to Micah’s. “You should have seen your face.”
“You’re a jerk. All I want is a kiss for luck from my boyfriend, and I get Beethoven’s tongue.”
That made Ty laugh even harder. “Beethoven?”
“Yeah, the Saint Bernard, not the composer. Though I don’t think I’d appreciate tongue from either.”
“You’re a mess,” Ty said. “Come here.” This time he granted Micah a sweet, lush kiss. Though the longer it went on, the dirtier it became—openmouthed and deep. Ty heard Micah’s bag drop to the floor before Micah pulled gently away, panting.
“I’m going to be really late if you keep that up.”
“I better stop, then.”
“You better,” Micah breathed, then leaned in and kissed Ty again. With his free hand, he reached around and grabbed Ty’s ass, pulling him flush while nipping at Ty’s lips. Micah rolled his hips, and Ty bit back a moan as his dick went from slightly hopeful to fully interested. Just as Ty was getting into it, his heart pounding, squeezing Micah’s hips, Micah broke the kiss and danced away, an impish smile on his lips.
He opened their apartment door and grabbed his bag from the floor, then slid out.
“See you at puck drop!”
And then he was gone, the little tease.
Ty swayed in place for a moment, then leaned against the door. He adjusted himself in his jeans and laughed lightly.
Micah was always a whirlwind, chaotic and beautiful. Ty had fallen in love instantly. Micah possessed a wild spirit Ty found liberating and a refreshing change
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