My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Twenty Four

"AN EMERGENCY OF SORTS came up and I have to be in Cali next week.  I've put it off for as long as I could, baby boy."

An emergency he had said.

I wonder, is it his wife?

It's been a week since that call shattered my perspective of Max and our relationship.

And it's been a week since Max was later called for an impromptu trip back to CA where he has an emergency to attend to.  CA, the state where I do not doubt his wife still resides in.

I can't help but stare after Max, tired eyes following him around the room as he packs a single duffel for his (hopefully) brief trip.

A soft sleepy moan escapes my lips when I manage to stretch my limbs.  I sit up in bed carefully, quickly drawing Max's attention.  Despite looking a bit haggard and worried, he smiles at me almost adoringly.

It's hard to be mad at him when his words sound so sincere, when his touch is so gentle.

The bed dips with his weight as he takes a seat beside me and I rest my head on his shoulder.  A warm smile twitches on my lips when our hands lock, and fingers interlace. Contently, I close my eyes and revel in the feel of his lips pressing a kiss atop my head.  I melt with each gesture.

"It's hard to stay mad at you," I whisper softly, "you know I'll miss you."

His hand squeezes mine just a bit more while he sighs, "I know, baby boy, and I'll miss you more, so much more."

I bite my lip as we lapse into silence.

Max reaches out, thumb tracing beneath my bottom lip until I stop gnawing on it.

He leans down to press a gentle kiss on my red swollen lips, carefully sucking on it.

I want to ask him to stay, to not go.

I want to beg.

It's not in my right though.

Because even though he's reassured me that we are more, I know well enough we are not.

I slip from his hold and get on my knees before him.  He looks down at me, his gaze tender and full of adoration.

For me?

Or for what I'm about to do?

I'm overthinking too much.

Too worried about what's outside these walls.

I want to forget.

I want to fuck.

I want to remember that I belong to him and he belongs to me.

Only me.

I tug at his pants and undo his belt before dragging the zipper down with my teeth.

His hands delve into the mess of curls on my head as he tugs it back.

I stare back at him, my own hands working at his briefs until his half-mast is exposed.

I lower my face until my lips wrap around the head of his cock quickly hardening under my touch.

"Oseias."

I suck at the tip before taking in another inch.

Don't.

Don't call me by my name.

Not right now.

Not here.

I want to feel safe.

I'm your baby boy.

Call me yours.