18
Auggie set the moving box on Theo’s porch and wiped sweat from his forehead. Memorial Day weekend had rolled in hot and humid, and even in shorts and a tank, he was already dripping. He glanced back at the moving truck where Orlando was—of course, because he was Orlando—trying to cruise the hot moving guy.
“Orlando!” When Orlando looked over, Auggie pointed to the box on the porch. “A little help?”
“Sure thing, Augs!” Orlando trotted toward him.
“No, I meant—dumbass, get the boxes off the truck. I don’t need help carrying one box.”
“But you put it on the porch. I thought maybe it was too heavy for you.”
The hot moving guy was grinning, and Orlando kept looking back, which probably explained why the hot moving guy kept rucking up his white tank to wipe his face.
“I can carry the damn box,” Auggie said when Orlando reached him. He gave him a shove and, not that quietly, said, “Can you try to pick up ass on your own time?”
“I’m not trying to pick up ass,” Orlando said. A huge smile broke through his scruff. “I’m trying to pick up dick. Can you see what he’s packing in those cutoffs?”
“For the love of fuck,” Auggie said.
“Exactly.”
“Go get some boxes!”
With a huge, goofy grin, Orlando jogged back toward the truck. He stopped as soon as the hot moving guy flashed his abs and said something in a low voice.
Auggie swore. A lot. Loudly. When neither man looked at him, he picked up the box and headed inside.
Theo was carrying a box down the stairs, clearing things out of the bedroom to make space for Auggie. He grinned when he saw Auggie. “Let me guess: Orlando’s still caught in the big dick tractor beam.”
“It’s not funny.”
For some reason, that made Theo burst out laughing as he carried the box toward the basement. Over his shoulder, he called, “You’d better get upstairs quick because Ethan is currently trying on your Volcom t-shirts.”
“Motherfucker!” Auggie sprinted up the steps.
Between keeping Ethan—who was almost fully recovered by this point, and who had apparently learned nothing about the possibility of being stabbed if you stole your roommate’s clothes—from robbing him blind and keeping Orlando from being plowed in the cab of the moving truck, Auggie ended up unloading most of the truck himself. Ok, that wasn’t entirely fair. Theo did a lot of the moving. Auggie would have done more, but someone had to be in charge of complaining and running around and trying to get Theo to sit down and take it easy on his bad knee.
By the time they’d finished unloading the truck and unpacking Auggie’s essentials—which took up an entire side of the dresser in the bedroom, half the tiny closet (ok, maybe a little more than half), and two airtight clothing storage containers in the basement—it was mid-afternoon. Theo cracked open a couple of beers, and they both melted onto the sofa, listening to the window A/C chug and try to keep up with the swampy heat.
“So, if I send a snap, I’m supposed to write something, right?” Theo asked from where he was stretched out on his end of the sofa. He stretched to ruffle Auggie’s hair. “And I use a filter?”
“Oh my God, do not use a filter.”
“The filters are funny. You laughed so hard when I sent you that puppy dog one.”
“Well, yeah, because I thought you were being ironic.”
“I don’t even think people know what ironic means anymore.”
“Did they ever?”
Theo grunted.
“Only old people use filters, Theo. Well. Older people.”
“I am older.”
“No filters.”
Theo ruffled Auggie’s sweat-damp hair. Auggie shifted until his shoulder and head were propped up by one of Theo’s strong thighs. It was nice, the physical contact, even though the heat should have made it uncomfortable. Since their encounter with Trace and Imogen, Auggie had been…well, not sparing with the physical contact, but certainly more deliberate about it. More cautious. More restrained. Without saying anything outright to Theo, Auggie had limited them to jacking each other off, some mild frotting, and the occasional blow job.
It was nice. It was good. Anything with Theo was good. But that first time with Theo, topping, had been life changing for Auggie, and he found himself fantasizing about it, thinking about it again and again. But then he would remember Dylan. Or, more commonly now, Trace. His legs forced apart. The pain of that forced entry. His helplessness, and the violation.
He turned his face into Theo’s thigh and drew in a deep breath. Sweat, the lingering hint of soap, and a distinct muskiness. He ran his fingers up and down Theo’s leg, teasing the coarse blond hair.
“What’s going on down there?” Theo asked, and he sounded raspier than usual, which was a nice compliment.
In answer, Auggie rolled over, stretched, and got a hand up Theo’s shorts. He fumbled around with Theo’s boxers until he reached his dick, which was already hardening. Then he drew it out. He got onto his stomach, and he licked the head. Then he licked as much of the shaft as he could reach. Theo was breathing faster.
“Someone could look in the windows, Auggie.” Although Theo didn’t sound like a man who had his mind one hundred percent on windows.
Auggie took the head of Theo’s cock into his mouth, careful to cover his teeth, and sucked.
“God fucking Almighty,” Theo gasped.
Yeah, Auggie thought. He can probably see us too.
He spent a few minutes like that, teasing the slit of Theo’s dick with his tongue, sucking on the head, pulling back to lap at the shaft, running the big, spit-slick dick across his face. Theo made satisfyingly obscene noises and occasionally humped forward, trying to get more of the attention Auggie was lavishing on him. Then, when Auggie couldn’t stand it anymore, he unbuttoned his shorts, slid them down one-handed until they hit his knees, and worked his dick out of his trunks. He played with himself while he went back to Theo, sucking steadily now, taking as much of his dick as he could with Theo’s shorts in the way.
“Oh shit, Auggie,” Theo said, desperation threading his voice. “Stop. Auggie, God, stop.”
With a slurp, Auggie pulled off and sat back on his heels. He met Theo’s eyes, lowering his lashes, lips still parted.
“God Almighty,” Theo breathed. It looked like he fought for self-control, and his voice sounded slightly more normal when he said, “Auggie, you can say no, but I’d really like you to fuck me.”
The window unit chugged. Cool, humid air wicked along Auggie’s shoulders, and he shivered.
“Can we at least talk about it?” Theo asked. He was getting soft, and Auggie was already there.
Auggie shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to kill the mood. Yeah, let’s go upstairs and—”
“What kills the mood is when I feel like I can’t talk to my partner,” Theo said gently but firmly—in other words, like Theo. “We don’t have to have this conversation now, but we need to talk about it at some point.”
“Fine, we can talk about it.”
Theo was silent for a moment. He shifted around to make room, and then he patted the sofa next to him. When Auggie didn’t move, he patted it more emphatically. Making a face, Auggie stretched out alongside him, and Theo ran a hand down his flank. “I thought you enjoyed topping.” The words were carefully neutral. “I know you experienced some strong emotions—”
“Shot my load and started sobbing uncontrollably,” Auggie said drily, but his face heated.
Theo smoothed a hand down his thigh again. “—but I thought it was something you were interested in doing again. Was I wrong about that?”
“Theo, I am. Just, not, you know, right now.”
“Ok. Why?”
Neither of them spoke. Then Auggie wriggled around, managing to get an elbow in Theo’s ribs, then in his gut, and then in the ribs again.
“Stop, stop,” Theo said with a little smile Auggie could see out of the corner of his eye. “I surrender.”
In spite of himself, Auggie felt his lips twitch. He settled his head on Theo’s chest. He kept his eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of Theo’s body as he spoke. “It’s just—ok, I don’t really want to talk about this right now, and I’m not saying I’ll never talk about it, but I’m still figuring it out.” Before Theo could speak, he hurried to say, “Trace really, you know, drove home a lot of stuff. The bottom is totally vulnerable, and it’s so easy for the top to hurt him, and I know I hurt you the first time because I was, uh, excited, and now please hold on because I’m going to die.”
When he tried to crawl away, Theo laughed and hauled him back. He wrapped his arms around Auggie and held him until Auggie slumped down and blinked his eyes clear.
“So,” Theo said with a hint of a smile in his voice, “a couple of search terms for the next time you have some Auggie time.”
“Oh my God.”
“‘Topping from the bottom’ would be a good place to start. You could look at ‘dom bottom’ too, although that’s not quite the same.”
“I’m not a kid, Theo. I know what that means. Well, I mean, I know what a dom is. Wait, for real? A dom bottom?”
“Good Lord. Please use one of those private browsers so Fer can’t go through your search history.”
“Theo, you can say whatever you want, and I’ll do my research if you really think I need to, but it’s not going to change anything. The top can hurt the bottom. Really hurt them. And I don’t want to be the one who hurts you, not ever.” His voice thickened. “I know I’m messed up, and I know you want a partner who can do this stuff with you, and I’m going to work on it. I just need you to be patient with me.”
“I don’t need anything from you,” Theo said, and he kissed the side of Auggie’s head. “Except that you be honest with me. Everything else, we’ll figure out together. But I’m going to say one more thing, if that’s all right?”
“I would cough, ‘Dad,’ right now except it would be super weird because our dicks are hanging out.”
He still couldn’t see it, but Auggie could feel the smile that stretched Theo’s face. “You’re right, I think. In a lot of ways, the penetrating partner has the ability to do a lot of damage, on purpose or by accident. But no matter what your position, everyone is vulnerable in sex. You’re exposing yourself, literally and figuratively, in ways that you keep hidden from most of the world. And trust me, for about a million years, guys have been afraid of sticking their dicks into things; google vagina dentata the next time you’ve got that private browser up. That’s not really the point. The point is that vulnerability can be a gift, something you offer your partner because you trust them and love them. And I’m not talking about what happened between you and Dylan or about what Trace was doing. That’s wrong, and it’s messed up, and there was no consent, and it was about power and domination and pain. I’m not saying that I expect you to make yourself vulnerable for me after all the trauma you’ve been through. When you’re ready—if you’re ever ready, and if you want to—then yes, I’d love to share that with you. What I’m saying is only this: I love you, Auggie, and I trust you, and I want to give that to you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, and believe me, I can handle it if you get—how did you put it?—a little excited again.”
For what felt like a long time, the only sound in the house was the tattoo of Theo’s heart inside his chest. A car passed on the street outside. They were blasting a song. Calvin Harris, singing about summer, singing about the heartbeat’s sound. Auggie reached down, found Theo’s hand, and brought his fingers to one nipple.
Theo brushed the pad of his thumb around the areola. Then, as Auggie’s nipple stiffened, he flicked it. Then he tugged, once, harder than the other gestures, and Auggie opened his mouth and took a different kind of breath. Theo let out a short noise that was somewhere between a rumble and a laugh. He turned Auggie’s face up and kissed him. His hand traced Auggie’s chest, rocked along his abs, cupped his balls, tightened around his dick in a loose pull. He nuzzled Auggie’s head to the side and kissed his neck, and the kiss turned into a ferocious hickey-slash-beard-burn. Auggie rocked his hips, seeking more of the roughness of Theo’s calluses, his body stuttering as he tried to leap from point A to point O.
Then Theo’s hand was gone. It came back a moment later, landing on Auggie’s hip, and Theo lifted him so that he was straddling Theo. Theo was hard now too, and Auggie held their dicks in one hand and rutted against him. He could feel the heat in his neck where Theo had started a fire that nothing could put out, and Theo’s hands were back, one on each nipple, alternating between savage and gentle, the combination making Auggie whimper and move faster.
It took more willpower than Auggie expected to take Theo’s hands and move them away from his chest. Auggie took a breath. Then he scooted backward, slid off the couch, and pulled Theo upright. A question shone in Theo’s eyes, and Auggie tugged him toward the stairs.
“Auggie, we don’t have to—”
“No, I want to.”
He had to turn around to go up the steps. Theo’s hands settled on his shoulders, and Theo’s mouth came to his neck again, the itch and scratch of his beard at Auggie’s nape soothed moment by moment when the wet heat of lips and tongue followed. Auggie could feel himself leaking, one leg trembling so bad he put a hand on the wall.
“I think I’m ruining the carpet,” he said in a shaky voice.
“Maybe I should make you stand here,” Theo said, scruffing his beard between Auggie’s shoulder blades. “And I’ll eat you out until you come.”
“Oh Jesus,” Auggie mumbled and tried to go faster, but Theo still had his hands on Auggie’s shoulders, and he held him back, his kisses on Auggie’s ears, the throbbing hickey on his neck, the sensitive spot where his neck joined his shoulder.
When they finally got to the bedroom, Auggie’s whole body was ablaze. He staggered free of Theo, got the lube and a condom from the nightstand, and turned to the bed. Theo was already on hands and knees in the middle of the mattress, his back arched, his muscular ass tilted up.
Auggie stared.
“Hurry up,” Theo said roughly. “You left me hanging for two fucking months, Auggie.”
Popping the cap on the bottle of lube, Auggie climbed onto the bed. He put on the condom—it took longer than he liked—and placed himself behind Theo, and he could smell him now, the heat of his body, their pregame sex. He got some lube in his hand and warmed it between his fingers. He started with his index finger, circling Theo’s hole, brushing over it. Theo was vibrating, his toes curling, his head moving from side to side.
“Auggie,” he choked out.
Auggie pressed, and after a moment of resistance, Theo’s body accepted him. He slid his finger deeper. Theo shuddered, a movement that started in his spine and ended in his shoulders. With his free hand, Auggie rubbed Theo’s ass, stroked the small of his back. It was a question, and after a moment, Theo managed a nod.
With more lube, Auggie worked that first finger in and out again. Theo relaxed, and he started making small, appreciative noises. Auggie curled his finger, stroking the inner wall. It all still felt new—the heat, the tightness, the texture.
“Lower,” Theo grunted.
“What?”
“A little lower. You’ll feel the bump.”
Auggie raked his finger lower, and when he found it, Theo let out a gut-punch noise and threw his head back. Auggie moved his finger back and forth over the spot, and Theo moaned, lowering the top of his body, shoulders coming together—like he wanted to get away, but at the same time, like he couldn’t get enough of it. Calling it a bump almost felt like an exaggeration; it was barely more than a swell. Auggie traced it, and Theo panted. He let seconds drag by and then, more forcefully, he pressed down without any warning. Theo shouted, his hole clenching around Auggie’s finger, and when the shout ended, Auggie heard the soft patter of precome leaking and hitting the quilt.
“Oh hell,” Theo said. “Oh fuck. Auggie, fuck me.”
“I thought you liked your partners to play with you,” Auggie said, circling Theo’s prostate again. “I thought you liked them to open you up. Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Get your finger out of my ass and fuck me, August. I do not need a fucking smart aleck right now. I need your goddamn dick.”
With a smirk, Auggie slid his finger free. He kissed one cheek, and then he bit lightly at the muscular flesh.
“Auggie!” Theo barked.
Ok, Auggie thought, the smirk growing. So that was called topping from the bottom.
Auggie lubed up, and then he moved closer, until the tip of his dick slid between the cleft of Theo’s cheeks. He pressed forward. Slow, he told himself. Slow, slow. Not like last time. You don’t have to be a twenty-one-year-old kid who’s never wet his wick before. His last clear thought before his dick breached Theo was: Theo is trusting you, so the important part is to make this good for Theo.
It might have been the finger play, or it might have been that Auggie did manage to put on the brakes, or maybe it was both. Whatever the reason, he felt Theo accepting him more easily this time, and when Theo’s body tensed, Auggie stopped and rubbed his back and leg and ass until he felt Theo relax again. When he was fully seated, Theo hung his head. He was shaking, arms trembling as he tried to keep himself upright.
“Do you want to lie down?” Auggie asked.
Theo shook his head.
“Am I hurting you?”
“God, no. This is—” Theo’s whole body heaved as he tried for breath. “This is—”
If he had any words left, he couldn’t seem to summon them. Auggie stroked his hip again. Then he eased back partway and pushed in again.
Theo let out a sharp cry, and almost immediately said, “Good. Good. So good.”
“Yeah?” Auggie repeated the movement. “That’s good?”
Theo didn’t answer unless you called a garbled noise of pure pleasure an answer.
Auggie started slow; he could already feel his orgasm at the floodwall, after fooling around downstairs and, even more so, after taking his time with Theo, seeing the effect he had on Theo’s body with just one finger, the way Theo’s body rippled when Auggie drove all the way home again, even the position of their bodies, with Theo crouched and Auggie’s belly slick against his ass and back. Auggie found a rhythm and stuck to it, listening to Theo’s moans grow, watching Theo’s fingers curl, gathering the bedding into fistfuls, and then the breathless noises he made when he didn’t have any air left to give.
The need to fuck, to chase his own pleasure, became more and more important with every second, and Auggie struggled to keep Theo at the forefront. He wiped sweat from his face with a forearm, blinking stinging eyes. This is about Theo, he told himself for what felt like the hundredth time. This is about making it so good for Theo. And then it was only Theo, and he heard himself saying the name as he thrust: Theo, Theo, Theo, and Theo’s whimpers and broken noises in answer.
Then it wasn’t even Theo’s name anymore. It was just the rut, instinct taking over. Auggie got up on one knee, altering the angle of his thrusts, and Theo wailed. Pleasure, that animal part of Auggie’s brain decoded. Theo asking for more without words. The angle gave Auggie enough reach that he could stretch and grab Theo’s hair, and he pulled—not sharply, but steadily, forcing Theo’s head back as he pounded in at that new, deeper angle. Theo’s face was flushed, his eyes half closed, his breath exploding out with each drive home only for Theo to suck air in raggedly before Auggie punched it out of him again.
It came like the tide, an intensity of light, the swash on the shore.
“Jerk yourself off,” Auggie gasped.
Somehow, Theo managed to keep himself up on one hand while he jerked off with the other. His whole body contracted when the orgasm hit, and the sudden tightness sent Auggie over the edge. His body went out of rhythm, and he thrust in a frenzy, emptying himself inside Theo, only distantly aware of anything besides that incandescence lighting him up from within.
Then it was over, Auggie’s body slowing, Theo slumping down onto his elbows. Auggie was trembling. He kissed Theo’s shoulder. He rubbed his side, another of those nonverbal questions, and Theo gave a limp nod. As carefully as he could, Auggie eased out, and as soon as he was free, Theo flopped down. Auggie followed him to the mattress, and a moment later, Theo pulled Auggie to his chest—the movements loose and wrung out. Theo had his other arm over his eyes.
They breathed in broken meter. Then Theo laughed, his voice ruined, and said, “Oh my God.”
Auggie grinned and buried his face in Theo’s side.
“Oh my fucking God,” Theo said again, running his fingers up Auggie’s nape. “What was that? Where did that come from? That was fucking amazing.”
“It was ok? I didn’t hurt you?”
Theo tugged on Auggie’s hair until Auggie raised his head and their eyes met. “That was—Auggie, it was incredible. Was it good for you?”
“I mean…” Auggie shrugged. Then the grin burst out again, and he pressed his face into Theo’s side again.
Laughing quietly, Theo trailed fingers up and down Auggie’s back. They shifted as they cooled down, moving around until Auggie lay in the crook of Theo’s arm, and now Theo’s fingers played on Auggie’s hip and thigh and belly.
“I love you,” Theo said. “I can’t imagine my life without you, a single day without you. I can’t tell you how scared that makes me, but I’m tired of trying to pretend it’s not true.”
“I love you too.” Auggie raised himself up to kiss Theo. One kiss. Gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere. Well, except for this summer, because Fer genuinely lost his shit when I had to go to the hospital again.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Theo said, “but maybe it’s a good thing. It’ll give me time to recover. Maybe I’ll be out of a wheelchair by the time you get back, just in time for you to destroy me again.”
Auggie rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling.
“I’m going to miss you,” Theo said, his voice lowering as he drew Auggie closer. “God, I’m going to miss you so much. Come back to me, ok? Come back soon.”
Auggie kissed his chest and nodded. “One more summer.”
Theo smiled, a summer-lazy smile, his eyes half-closed as he rubbed Auggie’s leg, his hand already slowing. Auggie watched as sleep took him. The afternoon sunlight came in and filled the house with gold. Everything was light, everywhere. He thought of Pericles, the Pericles from Eliot’s poem, the wanderer who had spent his life on the run, trying to survive in a world of death. He thought of the wonder at the end, that final wonder, full of grace, at finding a new world and the promise of life. What seas what shores what grey rocks and what islands / What water lapping the bow. He traced Theo’s biceps, the velvet and chalk of his skin. Light hammered copper and, now, a little silver in Theo’s beard. His eyes were closed, but Auggie knew them. Blue. Not the sea. The sky. A bluebird in flight. Watercolor. Wildflowers.
This form, this face, this life.
Theo.
“I’ll come back,” Auggie whispered. “I’ll always come back.”
Thank you for joining me for this serialization of The Fairest Show. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story! Theo and Auggie will be back for the final book of The First Quarto, A Fault against the Dead, later this year—stay subscribed to receive the serialized version of that novel too.
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