- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (23 page)

After a couple of embarrassing false starts, the tip of his cock caught the rim of Kyle’s hole. Their eyes met, and Kyle’s face flushed.
Then Kyle exhaled slowly and pressed onto Cole’s cock. It slid in bit by bit. Kyle grunted with the effort of taking it, but he looked exultant too, like this was something he’d dreamed of for as long as Cole had.

“Oh my God. Cole’s fucking me.” Kyle seemed as if his brain had just caught up to what was happening. He looked into Cole’s eyes, then leaned in for a kiss. Their lips together, he whispered, “I wanted this to be with you.”

Kyle tensed and trembled, his insides clutching around Cole and pulling him even deeper, then Kyle groaned and his spunk splashed over Cole’s fingers.
With that, Cole couldn’t hold out. The idea that Kyle had wanted this so much, that he was so excited about it that he’d just come in Cole’s hand, combined with the tense heat all around him, pushed Cole over the edge. He shuddered as his release came in long, hard waves, more intense that he’d ever experienced on his own.
Cole forced his eyes open so he could look into Kyle’s face as he came. He wanted to memorize this moment forever because he’d learned earlier than most that the good things didn’t always last. He needed to hang on to this and appreciate it while he had it.
He cupped Kyle’s face, realizing too late that his hand was still damp with jizz. Kyle didn’t seem to care. He gazed into Cole’s eyes as his orgasm faded, and he twitched with aftershocks.
They panted until Cole was able to speak. “I wanted this to be with you too, but I didn’t want to be your default gay. I wanted you to want me.”
Kyle flopped beside Cole. It was hard to tell whether he was flushed from exertion or embarrassment, but judging by the way he was hiding his face, it was both. “When I said that, I meant I didn’t wanna be
your
default gay.”
“What?” Cole felt like he’d been sucker punched. They had to have been fifteen when Kyle said that. “You mean we could’ve been doing that three years ago?”
“No!” Kyle shoved Cole in irritation. “I wasn’t ready to do this three years ago. Besides, I didn’t believe you really liked me that way until Jett called and told me why you were here. I’m not exactly…you know…in your league…or whatever.”
Kyle’s face pinched up, and for a moment Cole was afraid he was going to bolt. “You realize if you’d wanted girls, most of the girls our grade would have lined up to date you, right? But if you didn’t know any other gay boys, then like… I didn’t want something that would fall apart the minute you had options. I couldn’t stand to be disposable like that. I can’t be a placeholder. I don’t have your cheekbones, but I’m a fucking awesome person. So.”
Reflexively, Cole’s hand went to his cheeks. He still hadn’t wiped off the cum. A box of tissues on the nightstand solved the problem and bought time to puzzle through Kyle’s words.

“I thought you just didn’t want me, so I backed off. I thought you were going to go off to college and meet all these guys and forget about me.” After what they’d just shared, the thought made Cole possessive. He grabbed Kyle and clung. “I didn’t want any girls. I didn’t even want the other boys. All I wanted was you, but I’d nearly given up.”

Okay, he’d totally given up and macked on Goldie, but who wouldn’t?

Now it almost felt like cheating. Then something occurred to him, and he pulled back to look at Kyle.
“Is that why you think Jett’s hot? Because we look alike?”
“Well, yeah. I mean… He’s old, Cole. It’s not like I wanted to date him.” Kyle laughed a little and gave Cole a quizzical look. Kyle gestured at Cole’s body and raised a brow. “You’re really sexy. Like, ugh. It’s not fair.”
It was almost funny how confused Kyle looked. Then again, considering what was on the line, it wasn’t. Kyle snuggled into Cole’s jealous hug instead of fighting it.
“I think
you’re
really sexy. And you’re mine. He can’t have you.” Cole kissed the top of Kyle’s head. “You’re not just sexy, you’re beautiful to me.”

After a brief pause, Cole sang, “You are so beautiful…to me.” He was no Joe Cocker, but he could carry a semblance of a tune.

“Oh God, stop,” Kyle protested, but he sounded pleased. He kissed Cole’s chest before pressing his face to it. “Next you’re going to be saying you love me or something and we should be boyfriends.”

Cole had been afraid to say both those things. Again he flashed on his new dad and wondered if that had been what was holding Jett back. It was possible the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Cole didn’t intend to be like that.

Even Jett didn’t seem to want to be like that.

 

“I do love you, Kyle. And I want to be your boyfriend. You don’t need to call me

God, though.” He held his breath, hoping that Kyle would like this tack. Kyle stopped breathing for a moment. Then he inhaled sharply and tightened his
arms around Cole before relaxing his grip so they could look into each other’s eyes.

“Well, no worries about the latter.” Kyle kissed Cole sweetly. “But you can be my boyfriend if you really do love me.”
“Do you love me too?” Cole tried not to sound as needy as he felt.

Kyle shrugged. Then he exhaled noisily and lifted his head again to look at Cole. He raised one finger to trace along the length of Cole’s nose and around his lips. Kyle’s gaze followed the path of his fingertip and lingered on Cole’s mouth. He leaned in to kiss Cole but hesitated just before their lips met.
“I do.” Kyle kissed Cole so hard his head swam. “I love you, boyfriend.”

Cole ran his fingers over Kyle’s hole. It must’ve been sore, because Kyle jumped when Cole first stroked it. Then he relaxed into the touches, and Cole slid two fingers inside him again. Because they were boyfriends, and now this was his.

Chapter Ten

After a long day with press as harried as an album-release promo, Goldie was mentally exhausted. He and Sarah had agreed that Jett was too volatile to go along. While Jett’s emotions were compelling on stage, they turned destructive when a savvy reporter poked the panther.

Toward the end, even Goldie had trouble remaining chipper and accommodating. It was almost dark outside.
When Goldie made it to the house, it felt like a miracle.

At the door, Robbie gave Goldie a long hug and patted his back. “You did good today, kid. Your boy keeps his nose clean, I think he’ll be all right.”
Goldie sighed as he buried his face in Robbie’s chest. Robbie wasn’t his dad, but he was as close to one as he’d ever had. Hopefully Robbie’s kids appreciated him.
“At the very least, he’ll have a lot of community service to do. He wants to go back to Kansas for school, but I don’t know if that’s going to be in the cards this year.”
Robbie squeezed Goldie and then pulled away. “They got schools here. ’Sides, I think the reason he wanted to get back over the rainbow is under your roof now. Just a matter of convincing them both that there’s more here than there.”
Goldie crossed his arms and nodded. “Jett hates it here too.”
“Is that something he told you or something you inferred?”

That gave Goldie pause. He shook his head. “He said it. He said he missed his band too.”

 

Robbie lifted Goldie’s chin with a massive index finger. “You don’t miss your band sometimes?”

 

“That’s not relevant.” Goldie sighed and rolled his eyes at himself. “I guess so.

And he was pretty angry when he said it.”
“Was this before or after you came clean about wanting a family?” Goldie stirred the dust with the toe of his boot. “Before.”

“And you’ve been waking up with him in the morning? You said you’ve had a lot of good, quiet times watching the sun rise with him.”
“Yeah.”

Robbie chuckled. “Boy, you need to stop borrowing trouble. Things are coming together. You gotta understand this is a new thing for the both of you. And a long relationship goes through a lot of ups and downs. You think my wife doesn’t sit at home wondering what I’m doing when I’m keeping an eye on you at your glamorous parties?”

That made Goldie feel like a jackass. He’d never really thought about what Robbie’s long absences might’ve done to his family. “Oh.”
“I haven’t always been an angel in that regard. Neither has she.”

Astonished, Goldie looked up at Robbie. “You mean you…”

Robbie held up a hand. “We were young when we got together, and I was gone a lot.”
Goldie wanted to shout
How could you?
but it wasn’t his place. And apparently Robbie and his wife had both been guilty. It gave Goldie a sinking, doomed feeling. If Robbie’s relationship wasn’t perfect, what hope did he have?
“How did you work it out?”
Robbie patted Goldie’s shoulder. “A lot of talking. Some therapy, which mostly told us that we needed to talk more.”
“But you had sex with other people!”
“It was just sex. I’m not saying it’s good or right, but there are worse things, Billy.”

Goldie stared very hard at the gravel. “Do you think Jett will cheat on me?” Robbie sighed. “I don’t have a crystal ball.”

“But it’s a possibility?” “Everything’s a possibility. I don’t think it’s likely. That’s not really the question you should be asking yourself. You need to ask yourself if you would be able to forgive him if he did. Do you love him enough to see past that? Because I’m pretty sure that Jett thought you and Cole might be going there, and he still came home to you.”
The statement knocked the wind out of Goldie. “What? He’s like my son!”

Robbie held up both hands. “I’m not saying it was his most rational assumption, but that boy was after you, and you weren’t shoving him away.”

“But Cole was alone and scared and…”
“And you wanted someone to love on because Jett wasn’t around enough. I know you didn’t mean it sexually. But that doesn’t change what it looked like to Jett and the fact that he loved you enough to forgive that.”
Goldie frowned. “But it didn’t happen.”
Robbie play punched his shoulder. “You’re old enough to know by now that what happens and doesn’t happen is beside the point. I know you trust him, and that’s a beautiful thing. Hopefully you won’t ever have to forgive him for something like that, but think about whether you
could
.”
“Yeah.” Goldie looked at the door, then back at Robbie.
“You don’t need to give me an answer. It’s for you. It’s getting late. Go inside. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”
Goldie gave Robbie a quick hug and headed into the house.
Inside was strangely silent. No laughter or loud music from the video games they had been playing the past few days drifted into the foyer. Normally that would be a relief, but after the unnerving conversation with Robbie, Goldie wanted some happy sounds from somewhere.
Upstairs, Goldie was confronted by the distinctive sound of the headboard in Kyle’s room slamming against the wall.
Goldie smiled.
Finally.
Jett must be hiding. As liberal as he was about other people’s sex, it was probably strange when it was his son.
Goldie headed into their bedroom. “Jett?”
While there were often vases of flowers decorating their bedroom, tonight the space from the bed to the balcony blossomed with white irises. The breeze through the open doors wafted the wonderful scent to Goldie’s nose.

The bathroom door opened, and Jett emerged looking like he’d stepped off the set of a cover shoot. His hair was brushed and shiny, his lips appeared to have been glossed in the recent past, and his eyes weren’t bloodshot.

He smiled when Goldie met his gaze. “Hey, baby, how was your day?” “Better now.” Goldie gazed at Jett. He really was irresistibly hot even on his worst days. Cleaned up like this, all Goldie wanted to do was muss him up.

Goldie picked an iris from a vase and crossed to Jett to trace the petals along his cheek. “Have I told you today how extremely sexy you are?” Goldie leaned in for a long, slow kiss. “I didn’t forget an anniversary or something, did I?”

Jett’s body pressed against Goldie’s, lean muscles corded with tension. As Goldie kissed him, Jett relaxed. It felt good to have him here after a long day, to feel welcomed home by the way Jett melted at the touch of his lips.

Jett wrapped his arms around Goldie and hugged, a surprisingly tender gesture. Usually an open invitation to make out resulted in Jett growling, tossing Goldie on the bed, and pouncing. Instead, Jett nuzzled Goldie’s hair and let out a long, contented exhale.

Then Jett stepped back. “No, you didn’t forget anything. Just…I wrote a song today, and um…we’re celebrating, I hope. If you like it.”

 

Jett gestured toward the balcony and looked expectantly at Goldie.

“You did?” That was definitely cause for celebration. Then again, Jett could write a song in ten minutes and have a fully realized vision for it by the end of the day. At least, he used to. Lately he’d seemed blocked. It was a relief that his passion was returning. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Goldie headed out to the balcony. The dregs of the sun pierced the smog before giving up the ghost. There were white irises here as well. The last time there had been so many flowers around had been a momentous occasion.

His heart stopped. He stared at Jett.

 

Jett appeared uncharacteristically nervous. And clean.

 

Is this it? Is it happening?

Goldie should’ve been happy. Maybe it was the false starts or the conversation with Robbie, but he panicked.
The nervousness seemed contagious. Between one moment and the next, Jett was tense again. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw. A vein throbbed at his temple. He had that stubborn look he wore before a big confrontation.
Jett’s ancient acoustic guitar sat on a stand to one side of the table, and Jett picked it up gingerly, as if it wasn’t an extension of his hand anymore. Then he seemed to shrug it off and took a seat so he could play without a strap. He cocked his head to the side, plucked each string, adjusted the pegs minutely, and then began to play something completely different from anything Goldie had ever heard him play.
It was quietly rhythmic at first. Jett kept the beat with the stamp of his booted foot, and the heel of his hand thumped the soundboard. There was something almost country to the tune with its minor key and stripped-down approach. Then Jett’s fingertips tripped along the strings and teased out individual notes in quick succession. His husky, world-weary voice layered over it, matching the notes he played in wordless runs. He sounded humble, sweet, nothing like his usual punk vocals.
Then he looked up at Goldie from behind the tumult of his hair and sang. There was something significant about the way he formed the words, as if they were personal more than allegorical for once. He held Goldie’s gaze, and his whiskeyed rasp seemed pitched for his ears alone, more intimate than any spoken conversation could be with someone like Jett.
“Once I was so wise, as inexperience looks to a young man’s eyes. It seemed so simple then, in a small world of small men, and fair-weather friends who never asked me when.”
The trickling notes of the first verse built into a groove of solid chords that carried the song with the characteristic urgency of Jett’s work. His voice soared, climbing toward notes Goldie had never heard him attempt. “Never asking; never pushing; too much pressure, I’d go running…”