published December 24, 2020
Paul gets a mysterious knock on the door on Christmas eve, just as he’s getting comfortable. He hasn’t spoken to Bradley in years, but the second he opens the door the hunky rugby jock from college can’t stop kissing him. What the hell?
It’s always just as you get comfortable that the doorbell rings, Paul mused. He’d finally got settled under a plush blanket, propped his book up on his knees and his back up on some pillows with the generous glass of wine in easy arms reach when the buzzer went off. By the time he’d roused himself out of the cozy nest and padded towards the door, that first buzzer had been replaced by an almost frantic series of angry noises, long, short, staccato - it wouldn’t stop. He wondered if one of the neighbors had let a kid loose on the neighborhood with a little too much hot chocolate in their system.
“Hold your horses, I’m coming!” He shouted, frowning. “Seriously, once is enou -”
Opening the door, he started back in surprise. Paul hadn’t seen Bradley since they were back in college, and they’d barely exchanged pleasantries at most even when they’d been on campus together. Why was he -
Bradley lunged forward, gripping him tight and locking him into a deep, passionate kiss. Paul yelped in surprise, stumbling backwards as the hunky rugby player pulled him in by the waist, shoving their crotches together and growling with some sort of primal hunger.
“WHOA!” Paul shouted, and that managed to get through, leaving them both panting for a second in the doorway. “Whoa, whoa whoa. Bradley! What the fuck, man?”
“I fucking love you man.” Bradley growled, moving forward for another kiss. "God, I gotta fuck you I just can’t - "
“No! Stop!” Paul held up his hands, and to his relief Bradley froze, cocking his head quizzically. “Um. Come in, please?”
Bradley eagerly stepped passed him - very obviously taking the opportunity to press himself against Paul in a non-unpleasant but very forward way that reminded Paul that the rugger had always liked working out in addition to his practices, and loved showing off and tanning on the lawns when the weather was nice. Hastily shoving his boner around in his underwear, Paul poked his head out to make sure there wasn’t a film crew or something lurking in the bushes to humiliate him. There was just a poorly-parked sedan right behind his car in the driveway, and fat flakes of snow falling gently in the still winter air.
Closing - and locking - the door, Paul returned to find Bradley looking around curiously at his home. It made him intensely self-conscious to have the studly rugby player examining his life with birdlike intensity and childish curiosity, but the other man had a kind of contented grin on his face as he surveyed the plush couch, tastefully framed prints, and full bookshelves.
“Bradley, uh … can I get you something to drink?” Paul asked awkwardly. “Before we talk about … uh, whyever it is you came over tonight?”
“I mean, I’m in love with you, duh.” Bradley gave him a confused look. “It’s … Pavel, right?”
“Um. Paul. Look, do you want a glass of wine?” Paul shook his head. None of this made any sense at all. Bradley didn’t even know his name! “Is that OK?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’d love to try some. I usually drink beer, but if you’re in to wine it’s got to be good, right?” Bradley smiled like a puppy, leaning over the couch to look at the spine of the book he’d been reading.
"Um. Red? White? I’m drinking red, so there’s a bottle open, if you like Merlot - " Paul sighed. “I’ll just get a glass of what I’m having.”
“That sounds great, babe!” Bradley chirped. “Hey, this looks really interesting. War and Peace? Isn’t that one of the longest novels ever written?”
“I … uh.” Paul poured an extra helping into the wine glass, and after a moment’s consideration, brought the bottle over to the table. Given the trajectory of this conversation, he was going to need a refill soon. “Bradley, here you go. Can we talk about what you said? That you’re in love with me?”
“Yeah man, of course!” The rugby player - no, he’d gone off to law school after, right? Or was it a business program? Paul couldn’t remember. He’d learned to stop paying attention to his straight crushes at a certain point, which meant tuning them out of his social media feeds. Did Bradley even live in this city, he wondered?
The stud clearly hadn’t stopped working out or taking care of his body, Paul noted, as Bradley’s cardigan flexed over bulging muscle when the other man took a sip - well, a gulp - of wine. Bradley gave him an approving, indulgent smile then put the wine glass delicately on the table, clearly not very used to handling the delicate stemware. Turning back to his host, the hunk asked: “So, what do you want to know? Seems pretty simple to me.”
“I … Bradley, you didn’t even know my name until a minute ago. We barely know each other! How can you be in love with me?” Paul asked, shocked. The man wasn’t dumb, they’d gone to good schools and while Bradley had been on the rugby team he’d also graduated with honors. He’d remembered being slightly surprised to see them both listed with cum laude in the graduation program.
“Well duh. And I’m really sorry about that, Paul. Forgive me?” Bradley asked, sincerely and almost puppy-dog contrite. “It was really shitty of me to not remember your name from college.”
“No, that’s OK I - Bradley, you barely knew I existed when we were in school, how can you say you’re in love with me?” Paul asked again. “I feel like a broken record over here.”
“Well, I don’t really see how that matters. I mean, I’m in love with you now, and I really probably should have been then, too, but I guess I was a dumb college kid about it back then.”
“Bradley, that was five years ago.” Paul deadpanned. “We’re still young, dumb men.”
“Sure, that’s why you keep asking dumb questions!” Bradley joked, taking another sip of wine. “This Merlot stuff is pretty good, I can see why you like it.”
“No, wait, stop changing the subject.” Paul demanded, taking a swig of wine himself. “You just …. spontaneously fell in love with me after never talking to me, not knowing my name - and looked me up enough to find my address and come here and kiss me?”
“Gonna do a lot more than kiss you when you let me, man.” Bradley grinned, before continuing. “Besides, you’re overthinking it. I knew where you lived, knew I was in love with you, and that was that.”
“I uh - what?” Paul stammered, feeling himself blush a little. “No, I think that’s pretty important -”
“Dude. Nothing is more important than how good it felt to hold you in my arms and kiss you like you deserve.” Bradley locked eyes with him, hazel rings staring deep into his soul as his voice when husky. “I want to rip you clothes off right here and show you how much I love you.”
“Uh - I didn’t - um - Bradley, are you even gay? Bi?” Paul tried to find his footing as the conversation spiralled out of control yet again. He hadn’t seen or spoken to this man in years, and no matter how good he looked - no matter how good he smelled, was that cologne? - he needed to get to the bottom of this. “You never - all throughout school you -”
“Who cares? I’m in love with you, man.” Bradley shifted forward on the couch, arms gently encircling Paul’s waist. “And I want you to feel good, like you deserve.”
“Bradley, I - whoa.” Paul gasped as the burly hunk rolled forward, his face pressing into the smaller man’s midriff and nuzzling at his waist, hands slowly feeling along his flanks. “Whoa.”
“Feels good, right?” Bradly hummed, and it was all Paul could do to give an affirmative yelp as the other man’s muscular arms gently wrapped around and firmly gripped his ass. “God, you feel so good. Can’t believe I wasted years not doing this to you every morning and night.”
"Bradley, you don’t have to - " Paul managed to get a hand free and gently lifted the other man’s chin. Damnit, those endless hazel eyes, he thought. Focus, man! “You don’t have to … uh, do anything you don’t want to do?”
“Oh, trust me, I want to do this. I’ve never wanted to do anything more.” A hand that Paul had lost track of slipped into view, deftly unbuttoning the snap of his pants to reveal a very, very aroused erection poking into the fabric of his briefs. Bradley chuckled, “Oh man, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning, I can’t wait to play with this.”
Paul stared, slack-jawed, as the hunk he’d lusted after in college leaned down, tenderly kissed his midriff, and then gently pried back his underwear like a man opening a chest of stolen treasure. The look of discovery, adoration, and wonder on Bradley’s face was like a renaissance painting given warmth and very, very real form as the thickened shaft of Paul’s penis slowly pulled along the elastic of the waistband. In a slow, agonizing span the fabric slipped across the head of his penis, and with a meaty thwack landed on his belly. Bradley’s ecstatic face was framed by the image of a red-angry glans dribbling a steady stream of precum against his treasure trail, the low, heavy breaths of the other man bathing cock and balls alike in a warm, hazy cloud of desire.
“Fuck. I’m gonna make you feel so good, man.” Bradley panted, one hand obviously cupping himself as the other tentatively - hungrily - reached forward. “You’re gonna lose your mind, I swear.”
“Stop fucking talking about it and do it, damnit -” Paul yelped as the other man lunged on his cock, firm, warm hand weighing his balls tenderly while kissing and licking frantically along the length of his shaft. If it didn’t feel so incredibly good, it would have been absurd: the sandy-haired rugby hunk of his dreams frantically caressing, fondling, and tasting at his erection like it was the center of the universe, totally lost to the sensation of giving him pleasure.
And he was good at it, too, just like he’d said. Bradley managed to unsnap his own pants and frantically undressed them both in fits and spurts between his messy, desperate assaults on Paul’s cock. He practically lifted Paul off the couch by the hips, deep-throating his cock with a hungry, choking moan and both hands and his hands gripping at the smaller man’s hips, sucking and licking passionately along the entire length as if each bit of it needed his personal attention to survive.
Paul manage to pry him off at long last, and Bradley immediately moved in for a passionate, rich kiss that became a smoldering make-out session, with hands wandering and groping for endless stretches of time in a tangle of discarded clothes and trapped blanket, delicate body hair and gentle caress as their mouths explored each other. Bradley was bigger in every dimension, firm muscles stretched over a trim form with traceries of sandy hair painted into every cleft and swell like a masterpiece of shading. With the athlete looming over him, Paul felt like he should be intimidated, afraid - and some part of him was still deeply, deeply confused - but the beatific expression on Bradley’s face washed away all worries even as their iron-hard dicks rubbed ever-so-slightly against each other.
“Can I take you to bed?” Bradley breathed over him, and Paul nodded, dumbly. The other man whooped, pumping a fist in the air and diving in for another deep, lingering kiss. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
It took another minute of effort - and a great deal of stroking, gripping, and moaning - before Bradley finally lifted them free and let Paul lead him to the bedroom. The hunk grabbed Paul by the hip and rolled them into the tidy bed, settling himself under the other man with their cocks pressed firmly together. Paul caught himself on Bradley’s pecs, the muscled planes of flesh tensing as the rugger stared up at him, jaw slack with lust.
“I … uh.” Bradley whispered, eyes tracing along the smaller man’s body, “I’ve never done this before…”
“Wait, what?” Paul paused, shocked. “Oh! Oh, you mean - OH!”
“Yeah.” The athlete chuckled, a little blush rising in his cheeks. “Um -”
“Oh, we absolutely - not if you - I mean, damnit.” Paul paused, gently disentangling himself. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do …”
“Um, I think we have a miscommunication, here.” Bradley sat up, then pulled them both onto the bed to sit face-to-face. “I haven’t done this before. I’m going to need you to show me how to make you feel good.”
Paul blinked, then leaned in for a short, tender kiss. “That’s very sweet.”
Bradley chuckled, leaning in for another peck. “Ok, but like, are you going to fuck me or what?”
“I am going to to fuck your ass until you forget how to use that pretty face of yours to make words, Bradley.”
“Fuck yeah!” Bradley whooped, then ducked in for another kiss, before yanking them both down onto the bed, letting his legs slip up and around Paul’s more slender waist.
Paul’s cock almost painfully pressed against the firm, blazing-hot flesh of his lover’s ass, and for a moment it was all he could to do just hump along the tense, perfectly toned muscles beneath him as Bradley whimpered in need. Seeing the manly stud bit the underside of his lip, moaning at the feeling of cock knocking at his ass, touched something primal in Paul and he lunged for the bedstand, fumbling for lube.
“Babe?” Bradley asked, then shivered, as if with delight. “Man, that felt so right, calling you ‘babe.’ Oh. Right!” He comically slapped a hand to his head as he saw the bottle of lube.
“Yeah, trust me.” Paul chuckled, smearing a wad of slick on himself and then gently rubbing it into the hunk beneath him. Warm flesh parted, almost eagerly, and Bradley looked up at him with a look of surprise. The slight shock on the jock’s face turned quickly to a sort of eager discovery as his legs twitched with anticipation. Paul watched Bradley’s face in fascination as his cock slipped slowly into the slick eager ass beneath him, letting his cock slide gently in.
“Ohmygod.” the jock breathed, trembling. “I feel so … full.”
“Your ass feels so good, man.” Paul murmured, and gently leaned in to kiss at Bradley’s neck. The jock squirmed a little, then gasped as the cock inside him nudged at something he’d never felt before. “Hmmm yeah, there it is.”
“Holy - oh, whoa.” the athlete wrapped his hand around the back of Paul’s neck, practically pulling him up then shoving him in for a deep, rough kiss. Paul could feel Badley panting underneath him, and flexed his hips just so and - “My - fuck that feels good, what the -”
“Wait until I really get going, stud.” Paul chuckled, and felt himself bottom out fully. “Hmm, there we go. Now, for the fun bit.”
“It gets bett-” Bradley was interrupted by his own low, uncontrolled moan as Paul sawed himself out and then back in to the athlete’s taut ass, feeling his own, sensitive head as it rubbed just so against the hard knot inside. “Holy- what the-”
As Bradley disintegrated into incoherent moans beneath him, Paul couldn’t help but revel in the view: the unobtainable stud of his dreams from school, twitching on his cock like a total slut. Then, looked up at him with awe and deep, primal need, like the whole universe was moving with the motion of his hips. He could feel his own balls rising with the incredible sensation of Bradley’s firm, slick ass; every time he pulled back he could feel the jock twitch and squirm, twisting and tensing for his return, eager to be fucked.
At some point, Bradley lost control entirely, his balls drawing up and his perfect, meaty cock spraying relentlessly all over his chest, the bedspread, the pillows, the wall, an explosion of cum met with a sort of uncontrolled wail and a clenched, desperate grip along any part of Paul he could reach. Above him, Paul groaned at the sensation, trying to hold on to this impossible, perfect moment for as long as he could even as the convulsive tension around his cock drove him ever closer to orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bradley cried, “please, fuck, leave it in me, Paul, please!”
"Fuck, I’m - " Paul gasped, then couldn’t resist any longer. Gripping Bradley’s shoulders tight enough to leave marks, he felt his eyes roll up with the force of his orgasm, feeling his load rush out like a dam breaking into the still-frenzied flex of the athlete’s ass. “Holy, fucking, damn.”
“That was fucking amazing, man.” Bradley breathed, then gave another little twitch. “I’m going to want to do that all the time, my gods. Babe, that was incredible.”
“Hey, not bad for your first time, eh?” Paul chuckled weakly. “You took it like a champ, too.”
“I had no fucking idea that could feel so good, man.” Bradley grinned, “And thank you so much for making it feel that good.”
“Happy to, really. Whew.” Paul sighed. “Fuuuuuck, man. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“Then let’s.” Bradley gently disentangled them, and somehow managed not to make even more of a mess. “I love you, babe.”
“I … uh, love you too, I think?” Paul smile weakly. “I don’t understand, really, but this was amazing, and I want more of … us, you, this.”
Bradley cradled his chin gently, then pulled him in for another kiss. “Then we’ll have as much as we can take.”
It wasn’t until a week or so later, when they went to see the Holiday Market in the town square before the decorations were all taken down, that Paul figured it out. In between cups of hot chocolate, Bradley pulled him in close and pointed to a little nook next to food stand.
“That’s where I fell in love with you, babe.” The jock said. “Won’t ever forget it.”
“What? How do you mean?” Paul asked, confused. “I wasn’t even here that week.”
“Well I’d just got a little snack from the stand, and I was looking out at all the couples and happy people wandering around. I was a sad sack of shit, man, and I was just dwelling on the fact that I’d never really loved someone who like, loved me back for me.”
“That’s so sad, babe.” Paul had slowly gotten used to this hunky jock being obviously, completely besotted with him, and was still trying out pet names, but it really felt right in the moment to return the term of affection.
“Nah, it’s fine.” Bradley grinned. “I just remember standing there, and wishing so hard that I was in love with someone who was right for me, that really loved me for me, and always would.”
“Aw.” Paul pulled him in for a tender kiss, letting them savor it for a moment, letting Bradley wrapped him in a little hug.
“I’m gonna go check out the nick-knacks. I love those little Santa things they make here. Want another cup of hot cocoa?” Bradley kissed at his neck, and Paul smiled, letting his cuddly jock run off. He wandered over to the little nook where he’d described falling in love with the man he’d never even spoken to, and in a moment of curiosity, looked up.
Right in the eaves, above where Bradley had pointed, was a bough of mistletoe, bright white berries shining in the reflected winter light. Paul stared at them for a second, then smiled. He’d better go check on Bradley, he thought, and tell him again that he loved him.