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“Who got you worked up, cariño?” Diego asked, dragging his teeth along the back of Raphael’s shoulder.
He was hard, getting harder with every sweep of Diego’s rough palms.
“Bad date. Very bad date. I brought you cake as incentive to make this very good,” Raphael murmured.
“Aw, pobrecito,” Diego murmured. “I think I can do that for you, and I don’t even need cake.” Raphael heard Diego suck on his fingers. They brushed between his cheeks and then pressed against his hole, and the tip of his first finger pressed in to the knuckle.
“Yes?” Diego asked.
Raphael nodded, groaning, pushing back. “More.”
The lube was next, a generous amount, and Diego played his body with the familiarity of an old lover, getting him right to the edge without working for it. Raphael didn’t mind. He wanted to unleash, he wanted to come and shake apart, and then breathe himself back together.
“Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” Diego asked him as he lifted Raphael’s leg and pressed the head of his cock against Raphael’s hole.
The condom crinkled a little, until he pushed in, and then Raphael just felt full, and hot, and wanted. “Maybe…maybe later,” he groaned. He was losing his words in the face of being split open, and he knew Diego didn’t need more from him. He was surrounded by a warm body, and firm pillows, and careful hands guided his weak, stiff hips so he could feel every second of it.
His face went hot, and his balls went tight, just before his right leg started to spasm.
“Good, yes,” Diego grunted. “God, querido, you’re so—” and then he stopped as his hand flew over Raphael’s dick, dragging him gasping and begging over the edge.
Diego didn’t need much more to follow, and Raphael felt him pulse, felt the come spill, and then felt Diego gently pull out. His sweat left him uncomfortably cool under the spinning fan, but Raphael didn’t have the strength to move. His fingers twitched, his legs relentless in their spasms as they shook against the pillow, and Diego dragged fingers up and down his spine until his breathing started to even out.
“Now do you want to talk about it?”
Raphael shook his head and pressed his face against the mattress, but he told him anyway. “Rose set me up with some terrible woman who walked out before we ordered. And,” he started, but he realized he didn’t want to talk about Dmitri with the man who had just fucked him stupid. He didn’t want to talk about Dmitri with anyone, because if he was going to save what relationship they had, Raphael needed to let his feelings settle into something more manageable.
“What is it?” Diego pressed.
He closed his eyes. “I think I’m lonely. And don’t get any ideas, that’s not why I’m here.”
Diego chuckled quietly and pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “Yeah, it is. But that’s okay. We can’t love each other the way you need to be loved, but I can give you this.” His arms tucked around him, and Raphael squeezed his eyes shut tighter.
“Will it ever happen for me?”
“Si, por supuesto,” Diego said without hesitation. “I’ve never wanted to be anyone else other than me. I’m happy knowing I’ll spend the rest of my life just like this. But if I were ever to be different—I’d want to be different with someone like you. And someone will see your immeasurable worth.”
Raphael had such little hope—and that wasn’t the worst thing to lose hope in. Lonely wouldn’t kill him. Lonely wouldn’t ruin him. It was simply an old friend who stayed a bit too long.
“Dmitri brought me Twinkies this week.”
Diego made a soft noise. “Tell me you didn’t eat them.”
He didn’t. He’d taken them home though, and he’d left them on the counter next to his kettle. He looked at them every morning, and he wondered if the rumors were true—if maybe they’d never go bad. If maybe he could keep this tiny, ridiculous reminder of what he could have, but was too afraid to reach for.
He should throw them out.
“I’m not going to punish myself to make him feel good,” Raphael said, but that was only a half-truth. He had a feeling it would be hard to tell Dmitri no. “It was just sweet. He’s a good person.”
“I don’t know him well, but he seems all right. Better than his friend. Fitz’s nephew.”
Raphael shrugged. He knew the stories about Owen, but not the person, and he’d been the subject of enough gossip to know how much it hurt. “Will you be at the craft fair this week?”
“Yes,” Diego said. He didn’t let Raphael go, but he loosened his grip. “I was working on a couple pieces tonight for my stall.”
“You want to get back to it?”
Diego rumbled a laugh. “Yes, I do, but I’m going to hold you until you fall asleep. Okay?”
