Rainbow Connection (6 page)

“Yes, please,” Ceri moaned. “Get that gorgeous cock of yours inside me. I’m dying here.”

Mick withdrew his fingers. It had been a while, but he managed the condom; he’d had enough practice putting them on Alfie. He added a bit more lube and then lined his cock up with Ceri’s arse. Gently at first, he pushed in, but there was little resistance and quickly he was buried to the hilt. He had no words for how good or how right it felt to fuck Ceri. The sensation of tightness around his cock amazed him. For the first time in his life he understood what it meant to be part of another person. Raw emotion threatened to overwhelm him. He blinked back the tears that pricked his eyes.

“Move,” he heard Ceri say.

“Sorry, just got lost for a moment. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He began to move, watching as his cock disappeared and reappeared. It was incredible, all that heat around his cock. Just moving his body in and out and hearing Ceri whimper and moan below him. He didn’t think he was going to be able to hold on for long, not this time.

“I’m close,” he said. His own balls tightened and a tingle ran down his spine. He could hear the sound of his thighs slapping against Ceri’s arse. He felt such power. Reaching around, he took Ceri’s cock in one hand and began to pump it.

“Yes, harder,” Ceri shouted. And then it was all over. Ceri’s arse contracted around him. Streams of come covered his hand, then he went over the edge himself and poured out years of frustration into that condom. He fell over Ceri’s back as the other man collapsed below him. The room smelled of sex and come. He didn’t want to pull out. He wanted to stay like this forever. He never wanted to lose the connection the two of them had at that moment. He couldn’t work out exactly how he felt, but he knew he was crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks and over Ceri’s back. He buried his head into the groove between neck and shoulders, still breathing heavily.

Finally, he pulled out, taking care with the condom and putting it into the bin at the side of the bed. Ceri turned onto his back, put his hands behind his head, and grinned up at him. Mick knelt on the bed and gazed back, trying to read what was going on behind those shining eyes. Ceri looked pleased with himself. Yes, that was it. His skin seemed to glow in the lamplight. Mick smiled back, and straddled his thighs.

“Are you okay?” Ceri asked.

“Yes, I most certainly am. Was that all right for you? Did I get it right?” He couldn’t hide the concern from his voice.

Ceri picked up his now flaccid cock. “Looking at this, I think you did. What about you? Did you enjoy it?”

Mick had to stop himself bouncing on the bed with excitement. He wanted to stick his head out of the window and shout out to the world to tell them what he’d done. He ran a hand up Ceri’s chest, collecting come on his fingers. Ceri opened his mouth and licked each finger in turn. Mick couldn’t believe it when his cock began to harden as Ceri sucked on his fingers. He sat back up again, reluctantly.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome.” He knew he was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “I loved fucking you, and as soon as you’ll let me, I want to do it again. And I want to keep doing it until we run out of positions and places to do it in, and then I want to start all over again.”

“Whoa boy, give my arse a bit of time to recover!” Ceri said, laughing. “I’ve created a monster, or maybe just an addict! Not that I care. You can fuck me forever, if you want.”

Mick looked at him. He knew what he wanted to say, but he had no idea whether he should say it. He guessed Ceri knew the words were there as well, hanging in the air, ready to be plucked if either of them were prepared to reach out and take the risk. Ceri moved Mick’s arm and slipped underneath it, resting his head on Mick’s chest. Mick stared at the ceiling and the words remained unsaid. Tomorrow they would return home, back to reality. Maybe Ceri had the same thought as him. He wanted to know what all this meant, but in the silence that filled the room neither of them had found it within themselves to ask.

CHAPTER 8

The end of their idyll came far too quickly for both of them. They enjoyed a leisurely exploration of each other in the morning, followed by a large breakfast as both of them had built up quite an appetite. The return journey was quicker than their outward one as there was so much less traffic on Sundays. Mick felt more comfortable holding onto Ceri on this journey. So much had changed in so little time, and it was going to take a while for him to get used to it.

Outside his building, Mick was reluctant to either leave Ceri, or invite him in. No one had been in the flat since Alfie had died. He knew he wanted to have Ceri there with him; he wanted to cook for him. He loved cooking. He’d cooked for Alfie and his friends all the time and Ceri looked like he could use more food.

“I’d better get off,” Ceri said. “We both need to get some sleep before our shifts tonight. I’ll see you in the morning, and we’ll make some plans.”

Mick swallowed his nervousness and spoke in a hesitant voice. “Would you like to come to dinner on Friday night, if you’re not working, or going out? I could make my curry. I like it hot, with lots of chillies.”

“Me too, hotter the better. I’m very fond of hot things.” Ceri pressed into him and Mick glanced around to make sure no one could see them. He stepped back and Ceri almost fell forward until Mick put his arms out and caught him. Ceri peered up as Mick wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in close suddenly finding he didn’t care if anyone saw them.

“I’d love to have dinner with you on Friday,” Ceri said. “I can’t remember the last time someone other than my mother made me a meal. I’ll bring some beer. I don’t really drink much so nothing too strong, but you can’t have a hot curry without something cool to wash it down.” Ceri kissed Mick on the cheek. Grudgingly, Mick let him go and watched as he got back on his bike. He waved, then took the stairs two at a time. It had been a wonderful weekend.

§ § §

When Mick got to work that night, Tom, one of the other guards, stood at the office door, waiting to go. He whistled when he saw Mick. “Love the new look with the beard,” he said. “How was your weekend?”

Mick made a valiant effort not to blush and murmured under his breath. “It was good. Cardiff is really nice.”

“I hope that skater boy treated you well.” Tom, along with the other older guards, treated Mick like someone who needed looking after. Mick just nodded, keeping his face down as he rearranged the desk the way he liked it.

“I’ll leave you to it then, lad.”

Mick watched him go and finally sat down. In thirty minutes he’d do his first round of the building. He opened his book and began to read.

§ § §

The night seemed to pass more slowly than usual, perhaps because he looked at the clock every ten minutes hoping that thirty had passed, bringing Ceri’s appearance nearer. The weekend’s experiences filled his mind. He’d done things he hadn’t dreamed he’d ever do. Everything about the weekend had challenged him, but being with Ceri had given him courage he didn’t know he had. He’d ridden a bike! On a motorway! He’d stayed in a strange room, and eaten out in a strange city with another man. But the most amazing thing was the sex—that had been mind-blowing. He could close his eyes and be there again, hearing Ceri telling him how good he made him feel. He just wished he had someone to talk to about all that had happened, not that he thought he could talk to anyone about the sex. Ceri made him feel possessive; he wanted the man all to himself. He wanted to bury himself in that sweet arse over and over again. He’d learnt things about himself he hadn’t known. He really liked to top, to take control, and Ceri seemed to enjoy letting him whilst telling him what he wanted. Mick had felt on top of the world, and he wanted more.

At six thirty, the buzzer sounded. Mick couldn’t help but smile when he saw Ceri. He’d forgotten it was a new week, and so there might be a change in Ceri’s hair colour. It looked darker. Mick buzzed him in and watched as Ceri worked, filling up the machines and replacing the huge water bottles. Finally, he arrived at Mick’s booth and leaned back against the table in front of him.

“You’ve dyed your hair,” Mick said. “Purple suits you.”

Ceri pulled Mick towards him. Placing his hands in the other man’s hair, he thrust his groin closer to Mick’s face.

“Is anyone around?” he asked.

“We can’t,” Mick said anxiously, looking at the screen which showed his office. Something inside him stirred when he saw he’d be able to watch himself take Ceri’s cock into his mouth. His cock was already responding to the proximity of the other man. Ceri turned to see where he was looking.

“Oh my God, I’ll be able to watch you. Can we get the tape?” He reached for his fly and pulled down his zip. “I know you can swallow it all, so there’ll be no mess.”

Mick nervously checked all the monitors, but there was no one anywhere near his office. He swallowed hard.
All I have to do is reach in and touch.
A hint of flesh revealed Ceri wasn’t wearing any underwear. He longed to do as Ceri asked. He almost glanced at each shoulder to see if there was an angel on one and a devil on the other telling him to be good or bad. One glance up at Ceri’s face and the angel had no chance.

Mick reached down and touched himself. The bulge made it clear what his body wanted him to do. He undid the top button of his trousers and reached for some tissues. He was really going to do this; he was going to suck another man’s cock in his place of work and watch himself doing it on camera. Fortunately, he knew how to delete the relevant part of the film. He looked up again. Ceri’s eyes, almost black with lust, sent Mick over the edge. He plunged in and pulled out Ceri’s now completely erect shaft. Ceri took in a deep breath and pulled Mick onto himself.

Mick relaxed his throat muscles and slid Ceri’s cock all the way into his mouth, closed his lips and sucked hard before pulling back and doing it again.

“Oh God, Mick, that’s amazing. Your lips look so good around my cock.” They both watched Mick move his mouth up and down the shaft, occasionally swirling his tongue around the tip then plunging back down. Ceri couldn’t resist thrusting, and Mick let him take control and fuck his mouth.

“This is so hot,” Ceri said as he reached down and massaged his own sac. Mick knew he wasn’t far from coming and fisted his own cock harder.

“The things you do to me, Mick Flanagan. I can’t last at all.” Ceri groaned one last time. “Gonna come.”

Mick swallowed every drop of the salty liquid, milking Ceri’s cock to completion. Nothing escaped the confines of his lips. Mick followed soon after, pumping his come into his hand. He quickly cleaned up as Ceri tucked himself back into his jeans. Ceri bent down and kissed him gently.

“Are you sure you can’t get us a copy of that?” he asked.

“I’ll see what I can do. You’re a bad influence on me, Ceri Llewellyn.”

“I know. Good, isn’t it?” He laughed, and Mick’s heart melted.

“Too good. I’ve spent all night thinking about you. I’ve been half hard nearly all the time. I’m going to need to wear longer shirts. I’m not sure I can cope with this every time you visit here.”

Ceri put up his hands. “I promise I’ll be good on Thursday as long as I get to ride you on Friday night. I can’t wait to have you in me and under me. What time do you want me?”

Mick swallowed hard; the taste of the other man’s come still filled his mouth. He guessed his lips must be swollen too, and here Ceri was, casually talking about riding him as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to do. He couldn’t help his reply. “All the bloody time! But I’ll expect you at seven, to eat!” he emphasised.

Ceri leaned in and whispered, “Oh, I’ll make sure that I’m very hungry. If I haven’t seen you until then, I’ll be famished!” His hand brushed over Mick’s thigh, causing him to shiver.

“Go on, get out of here! I’ve got to sort this video footage out. I can’t imagine what Tom would do if he saw that!” Mick was amazed he didn’t feel more embarrassed. “I’ll see you Thursday morning and then Friday night. Will you stay over?”

“Wild horses wouldn’t drag me out of there. I intend to wear you out playing cowboys!” And with that Ceri slapped his thigh and flounced out of the room. Mick pushed his chair back and watched him as he progressed to the rear door. He couldn’t wait until Friday, but first he had some film footage to deal with.

CHAPTER 9

Mick shopped early Friday morning and bought all the ingredients he needed for the curry. Even carrying out this simple task on a different day constituted a huge change in his life. He’d managed to erase the tape, but not save it. He hoped Ceri wouldn’t be too disappointed. He couldn’t believe he was standing there, frying chicken, regretting he hadn’t been able to save a film of him sucking off his boyfriend, in his booth, whilst at work. His thoughts came to an abrupt stop.

So much of that statement should have made him pause and say “What the fuck,” but the only word which caused him concern was “boyfriend.” Was that what Ceri was? They hadn’t known each other long, but Mick knew he liked the purple haired, bike riding, skater boy. Probably more than liked, and now he was making him dinner. He took Ceri at his word and loaded the curry with spices and chilli, making it eye-wateringly hot. He left the mixture to cook slowly for a couple of hours, then cleaned the kitchen. He made sure to put everything back in its place. He washed his hands, set the timer, and returned to the living room.

With time on his hands, Mick opened up his laptop and found the last entry in his story folder. He stared at the screen, reading the last few paragraphs, then began typing. It had been some time since he’d written anything, but his muse had returned, and the words once again flowed out of him. He sketched out the overall story of yet another adventure of Carlos and the Space Pirates, a haulage team in space who often flew too close to the sun with the cargo they carried. He’d written about this team and their adventures before, when he was younger and alone, with just his imagination for company. Pages and pages of his scribbles, as Alfie had called them, were boxed in the hall cupboard. They were practically all he had brought with him when he moved out of his childhood home into Alfie’s flat—two boxes of scribbles, and a few clothes that Alfie decided needed burning not wearing.