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Authors: Tere Michaels

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BOOK: Faith and Fidelity
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“Okay. So when people start saying crap to you guys, when they start teasing Danny or Elizabeth or Kathleen— what then?”

“Then we'll deal with the bullies.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It isn't easy. Believe me when I tell you— I thought about this a lot. But then I have to think— why do they get to win? Why do people I don't care about have a say in my life? When I married your mother people said we were too young. They said we were crazy to have four kids. I can't imagine having let other people deprive me of that... ”

Miranda rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and nodded. “Okay. Now um... go downstairs before Matt reneges on his twenty-five bucks.”

“You okay?”

“I think so.” She perked up, eyes damp. “Another twenty-five bucks might help though.”

“Extortion is a felony. Good night.”

“How about if I make sure the kids don't wake you guys up before ten?”

Evan blushed, closing the door as he muttered, “Deal.”

* * * *

Evan stopped in the bedroom to— God help him— make sure it was cleaned up. He changed the sheets.

He was a pervert.

Jogging downstairs, Evan found Matt on the couch with the television off and most of the lights off as well. The mood was clearly set, but then again at this point, he figured they'd end up making out on the platform of the A train during rush hour.

“What? No candles?” he laughed nervously as Matt leaned up to look over the couch.

“I was just about to light a few. Got any mood music?”

“If you press Play on the stereo you're going to hear Miley Cyrus.”

“I don't know who that is.”

“Count your blessings.”

Evan stopped standing awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs and walked over to Matt's side of the couch.

“Hello sailor?”

“I'm not really up for role-play tonight... ” Matt looked up, smiling and squinting, and Evan thought he might have missed that look most of all.

“Ah, taking it slow I guess.” Evan got the words out then Matt had his hand on his arm and he was (very willingly) falling onto the couch next to him. And sort of on top of him.

“This slow enough?” Their faces were close and Evan expected to feel nerves or butterflies because this was it. If he started down this path, he was not stopping this time.

And Matt seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move. His hand was firm against Evan's forearm but that was all. He was holding his breath.

“Too slow,” Evan said, quiet and urgent, leaning in to initiate the kiss. Because really, it was his turn to prove he had something invested in all this.

They had been here a few times, or at least a reasonable facsimile of “this"; kissing tentatively. They had been further than this and every single time Evan had been holding something back— out of fear, out of guilt. Now he was being quiet because the kids were upstairs, but screw it— he was totally invested in sliding his tongue into Matt's mouth.

* * * *

Matt figured he was dreaming but his leg wouldn't be cramping if this were a dream, and Evan wouldn't be wearing jeans... so this must be real, them folded on top of each other and kissing, and Evan was really kissing him. Tongue and everything. And then Evan was moving and straddling him and Matt liked reality better than his dreams.

He ran his hands under Evan's T-shirt, up over his chest— the scars, his heart— around and down his back, dipping into the gap of his jeans.

Evan didn't tense up, he didn't stop moving. And Jesus, he was moving; grinding down on Matt's lap until Matt's eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure.

“Not going to last long,” he pointed out with a moan when they came up for air; his hands pushed deeper into Evan's pants and Evan's hands came up to tangle in Matt's hair, and clearly Evan wasn't concerned about how quickly this was happening.

“We've got all night,” Evan murmured, rocking forward.

“Uh... ‘kay.” Matt exhaled roughly, yanked one hand off Evan's fine, fine ass to pull his T-shirt up. “This... this is good.”

Understatement of the year.

Evan didn't hesitate; he slid his T-shirt off and threw it next to them. He didn't hesitate to reach between them to grab the hem of Matt's own T-shirt— and brushed against the massive erection Matt was sporting. Okay, he hesitated before sliding his hand down the front of Matt's pants, but it was brief enough to give them both a chance to breathe in... oxygen they both needed because about three seconds later Evan had his mouth clamped over Matt's and it was all over but the screaming.

Or the moaning.

Or the wetness all over Evan's hand as Matt stiffened and arched and Evan felt it everywhere— the want and the need and the pleasure he was giving and getting and it was all good. Every bit of it.

* * * *

Matt blinked up at Evan— who looked as smug and pleased as Matt had ever seen him— and smirked.

“Well, my fears this wasn't going to work the same way are alleviated,” Matt said, feeling like a nap. Or maybe he would just feel Evan's ass some more...

Evan shrugged, trying to look casual as he rocked against Matt— and used his T-shirt to wipe off his hand. “Practice makes perfect.”

“I think this couch just makes me horny.”

“How does the bed make you feel?”

Matt blinked. “I think it makes me feel... surprised.”

“I want you to come upstairs with me.”

“In a minute.” Because Matt needed to take care of something first. He put his hand on Evan's chest— scars, heartbeat, muscles— pushed him back enough to reach the fly of his jeans. He held Evan's gaze and he liked what he saw; still some shyness, still some fear, but mostly— this time it was mostly lust.

And maybe something more.

“You break up with me again, I'm going to do something drastic... like move to New Jersey,” Matt murmured, pulling open Evan's jeans and reveling in the sound it produced.

“Can't... have that,” Evan said, breathless and raw.

“Then don't...

Matt had a tight grip on Evan's cock and then the talking was over.

* * * *

Evan put his T-shirt at the bottom of the kitchen garbage.

He shut off all the lights and headed up the stairs to the bedroom. Matt had already gone up.

Matt in his bedroom.

Evan didn't freak out; he had a single moment of missing Sherri then gently pushed the thought to the side. Not out of the picture because she would never ever be completely gone from his mind, his life, but there was room now for both of them.

He put his hand on the door knob, inhaled, and pushed it open. Matt was standing at the side of the bed, stripped naked and looking slightly confused.

“You uh— changed the room?”

“Yeah, thought it was time.” Evan shut the door, turned the lock.

“I like it.”

“Thanks. Sheets are clean,” he added, helpful and a little dorky at once.

Matt laughed, shaking his head. Climbed into the bed, punching the pillows like he was settling in for a long winter's nap. Like he was settling in, period.

“Not for long. Get in.”

Evan's jeans hit the closet wall in record time.

THE END

 

-The End-

 

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