Not One For Weddings Ch. 07

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And out slips the four-lettered word.
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Part 7 of the 10 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 10/06/2015
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Chris

Over the next couple of weeks, Julian and I fell into an easy pattern of going to either my place or his after we'd gotten off of work. We'd come to a sort of silent agreement that neither of us cared to be apart if we didn't have to be, and as such we hadn't spent so much as a night apart.

I'd arrived at his place and was waiting outside his door, having knocked twice already. I was mildly annoyed by that point - my arrival was no surprise to him, there was no reason I should have been standing in the hallway waiting for him to let me in.

"Julian," I called through the door, letting my irritation show in my voice.

Finally, I heard the fumbling of the door chain. He opened the door, but his usual smile wasn't there to greet me. I took note of his cell phone pressed against his ear and the stressed look he wore. He stepped to the side, allowing me to enter. I stepped in, looking at him confusedly.

"Dammi un momento," he spoke into the phone before setting it down and turning to me. He gave me a hurried kiss that showed no real affection. "Sorry for making you wait, Chris; my sister's on the phone. Give me a minute?"

His brisk request was unexpected. "Yeah, go ahead."

He flashed me a smile that didn't reach his eyes and picked the phone back up. "C'è qualcos'altro? Devo andare avanti."

Holy shit, he's speaking Italian. I took a seat on the couch and watched him in awe as he paced from one side of the room to the other, looking agitated. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but that didn't stop me from being insanely attracted by his smooth voice. My former irritation melted away, enthralled as I was listening to the foreign tongue Julian spoke with ease.

"Addio, Zita." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Non lo so, io penserò. Bene. Ciao."

He hung up and threw his phone onto the coffee table, then came to me. I patted the couch cushion, inviting him to sit beside me. He did so, but kept a careful distance between us.

"You speak Italian," I asked, too stunned by that revelation to fixate on his strange behavior.

"I do. My parents are from Italy, after all." He didn't seem to be paying attention, as if some other thing were weighing on his mind. Even after a few minutes of silence he didn't relax his shoulders, or turn to me with his customary smirk, or make an attempt at conversation.

"Is everything okay, Julian?" He didn't say anything, but looked at me with eyes that were begging for a listening ear. I got closer to him, putting my legs over his and taking his hand in mine. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." I said nothing, prompting him to continue. "That was my sister, Zita. She's two years older than I am, and the only person I speak to from my family on a somewhat regular basis. She keeps asking me when I'm going to visit them, saying that she and our mom miss me."

I considered what he said. "Are you going to visit them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I've told you already, I don't get along very well with my family."

"And that's all you've told me."

"Chris, you don't want to hear about them, believe me.

I bristled at that. "Yes I do. I want to hear everything about you, your family, your life."

"I'm more than happy to tell you everything about me and my life," he used a calculating tone. "But my family is very much uninvolved with that."

"That's not fair, Julian. I've told you all about my family - hell, you've met them already. Why won't you tell me about yours? It's not like I'm asking you to present me to them, or even tell them about me."

"I don't like talking about them, okay? That's it. I didn't have a very pleasant upbringing, Chris, like you did. I'm not close to them. I haven't spoken to any of them but for Zita and my mom since I moved out."

I remembered he'd told me he had six sisters - and yet, he only spoke to the one. A hundred questions flew around my mind, and we were both losing patience.

"Why? Julian, tell me. It's just me, I'm not going to judge you or whatever you're thinking will happen."

"Why do you need to know so badly?"

"Because I want you to trust me," I burst. I wasn't yelling, but I definitely starting to get mad at him. "I'm not going to tell anyone - who would I tell, in any case? I don't hold anything back from you, I don't make you beg me for information. Anything - anything­ - you want to know about me, or my past, or whatever else, I'd tell you with complete and total honesty. Why can't you do the same for me?"

"That's different, Chris." He was sounding more angry, too. "You don't have anything to hide. You have a family who wholly loves and accepts you. You haven't had to face many hardships, and you should be thankful for that. I need for you to respect that I don't feel comfortable talking about my family, to you or anyone else. It's not because I don't trust you - I trust you more than anyone."

"If you trust me so much then why won't you tell me a single thing about your family?"

"Why is this so important to you," he demanded, sounding more heated than he had before. "You know I love you! Why can't you accept that and move on?"

The air around us stilled as his words taunted us. Julian's eyes were wide with panic, obviously not having meant for the words to come out. We forgot the discussion we'd been having only seconds earlier and went totally mute. I swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat.

"Do you mean that," I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

He answered in a slightly stronger, though still quiet voice. "Of course I do."

He dragged me onto his lap and brought our faces close, only just not touching.

"I love you, Christopher Haze," he breathed. "I don't care that it's hardly been a month since we met, and I don't care if you don't feel the same way yet. I've never felt like this. About anyone."

"Oh, Julian," I whimpered before pressing my lips to his, overwhelmed by emotion. I threw my arms around his neck to pull him closer and kissed him softly and slowly. His hands were clutching at my back, as if he were afraid I'd get up and leave if he let go. I grew greedier in my kiss, insisting my lips against his with a longing moan that was so much more than mere lust. It was a moment later that I could feel a scalding tear roll from the corner of my eye to between my and Julian's brushing lips. He pulled away at the feel of the wetness.

He kissed away the tear and regarded me with infinite tenderness. I felt that my heart was about to explode from my chest and all I wanted to do was devour him whole then and there.

"God, Julian, I love you, too."

His smile broke out like the sun over the horizon. "Really?"

I wanted to laugh. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't know."

Oh, no, that will not do at all. "Julian, I love you." I kissed his temple gently. "I love you." I kissed his jaw. "I love you."

I kissed every part of his beautiful face, repeating the words between each kiss. I saved his lips for last, and he was more than ready to accept mine when I got to them. His arms around me crushed me to him while I knotted my fingers in his hair. I shifted so that I was kneeling with my knees on either side of him, pressing myself flush against him. We separated to catch our breaths, and I looked down at him with a ridiculous grin; his eyes stared up at me adoringly.

"Chris?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." He gave me his signature half-smile smirk that was familiarly teasing and promising. He yanked my face back to his and licked the edges of my lips, then the seam, but didn't prod his tongue between. I opened my mouth, wanting only to be further connected to him, but he wasn't taking it. I could feel him smile at my urging.

I pulled back, pouting. "Are you going to kiss me, or not?"

He placed a peck on the corner of my lips. "I just did."

"Not there," I rolled my eyes.

"Where, then?"

I raised my brow. "My elbow, of course."

Much to my irritation, he did just that with a satisfied smirk in my direction. "Like that?"

"No."

"Show me where." He looked so sweet and carefree I couldn't help but catch onto his mood and abandon my sulky front.

I pointed to my cheek. "Here." His lips were on me in an instant, and just as quickly were gone. He looked at me expectantly.

"Where else?"

I pointed to my neck. "Here."

He brushed his lips over me. I pointed to my chin, my ear, my clavicle - each was met with a chaste kiss that dared nothing but left me wanting all the same. His hands were gripping my hips, which certainly wasn't helping my cause, but he seemed unperturbed. He kissed every part of me as directed, his eyes on mine the entire time.

I had to admit, I was having fun with his game. He made me feel wanted and desired. Even in the relatively innocent way he kissed me, he did it in a way that made my heart skip a beat and sent electricity through my veins. How could I not love this man?

I pointed to my lips. "Here."

"It sure took you long enough," he chuckled before, at last, setting his lips upon mine in an all-encompassing kiss that stole my breath away.

His hands stayed on my hips, but I felt his hold on me tighten to prove he was not so unaffected by me. I didn't have it in me to restrain myself, and I kissed him without reserve. I held his face in my hands, clamping our mouths together and not allowing him to move away again. I felt his hands move to the hem of my shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric to flutter along my skin in a barely-there touch. All the same, I felt my breathing grow heavier, and his did, too. He slid his hands further up my back, lifting my up my shirt as he went.

I broke away from him only long enough to allow him to take off my shirt, as I did to him. He explored my newly-bared torso wildly as our kiss grew more passionate, small sounds escaping us both. Straddling him as I was, I could feel him hardening against me as we fed on each other; undoubtedly, he could feel me having the same sort of reaction. I started to take apart the buttons of his jeans with impatient hands.

To my frustration, he tore away from me.

"What now," I whined in protest.

He looked at me with hooded eyes. "Bedroom."

"Fuck the bedroom," I groaned. "I want you here, now."

"We're not going to have sex on a couch after I just told you I love you."

To hear him say the words sent a thrill through me and I immediately complied, sliding off his lap. He probably could have told me to jump off a building at that point and I would have done it without question. I practically dragged him to the bedroom.

"And in case you've forgotten," I added in a faux-indignant tone, "we've had sex on a couch before. A few times. If I have any say in it at all, we will again - soon, too."

"Don't complain," he laughed. "You'll be getting off all the same."

"That's not my point," I muttered.

We were in his bedroom by then, and Julian took no time in pushing me down onto the bed and pulling off my pants before climbing on top of me.

"What was your point, again?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a moan came out as his mouth enveloped a nipple and started to suck. His fingers toyed with the other one, twisting and pulling deliciously. I was lost in the sensations, then very abruptly, they stopped. I opened my eyes to a pair of twinkling hazel oculars.

"You were saying, Chris?"

It was obvious I wasn't capable on concentrating with a half-naked Julian on top of me; his mischievous expression showed he was well aware of this, and using it to his full advantage. I glared at him.

"Shut up and kiss me, asshole."

"With pleasure."

He did as I asked - okay, demanded - with an amused grin. He was all around me, wholly consuming and entirely focused on me. I could feel every inch of his body on mine, but marred by the jeans he still wore. I pushed them down as much as I could from where I lay beneath him - that is to say, not very much - and groaned into his mouth when he made no move to help me.

"You're overdressed," I informed him, trying in vain again to rid him of his clothing.

"No, I'm not. Sex with you should be a black-tie affair." He kissed and sucked along my neck.

"I certainly hope sex with me isn't any sort of affair at all."

He grinned at my bad pun and brought his lips back to one pebbled nipple, circling it, biting down, then soothing with his tongue. Everything he did sent jolts of desire straight to my groin. A few more seconds of this, and I was reduced to a moaning, panting pile of want and need.

"Please," I begged, breathless. "I need to feel you, I can't stand this."

Without removing his mouth from my body, he wriggled his way out of his jeans. I mumbled the word 'underwear', and those soon followed as well. He stripped me of mine, and we were naked, bare flesh against bare flesh all the way through. The reality of the moment overwhelmed me, and I froze as it sank in.

"What's wrong," Julian asked, concerned by my stiffening up without an obvious reason. He went up beside me, touching his fingers to my cheek in concern. I rolled to face him, putting my hand on his waist and throwing my leg over his.

"Do you realize what's happening?" My odd question in contrast to my ear-splitting smile confused him.

"What do you mean? Us?"

"Yes. Us." I giggled at myself which confused him further, but at least he was smiling.

"I'm going to need a bit more information than that, babe."

"Just think about it, Julian. This is amazing. Incredible. Unbelievable. We're two people, in love, naked and having fun. Purely and simply."

I didn't care that I was interrupting his - our - plans, I wanted to talk about it. I was beautifully tangled in emotion, debilitatingly intoxicated by love. I was not about to act blasé and nonchalant, I wanted to scream it out to anyone who would be still long enough to listen. In this case, Julian was closest.

He got a look in his eyes that was very near awe. "You're right."

"You're extraordinary, Jules. I love you - I'm going to say that again and again and again until you're absolutely sick of hearing it and wish you'd never told me in the first place. Just so you know." I giggled again, not at all unlike any number of the female students I teach, twenty years my junior.

"I will never get tired of hearing you say that. Because as you love me, I love you."

Our lips found each other again and sealed over one another, our tongues dancing together as our hands traced over each other's bodies. We touched each other equally, both giving and taking, mutually in need of constant, unrestrained contact. We kissed until we were on the verge of suffocating; I came away gasping.

"God, Julian, I need you so badly."

"I'm yours, Chris. Whatever you want, it's already yours."

I was a world entire away from want. "I need you. Inside me. Now."

He looked surprise. "Really?" He phrased it as a question, but it came out as more of a seductive purr. He rolled us so that I was on top of him and he was lying beneath, holding onto me by my ass. I let out a small gasp as our cocks rubbed against each other.

"Yes, really."

His fingers slipped between my crack and passively stroked along it. "Is this how you want it? Do you want to sink down onto me while I play with your cock? Do you want to ride me while I watch you writhe and moan over me until we both come?"

I almost came at his words alone. As it was, my breath caught and I felt myself get impossibly harder; he did, too. I could feel him straining against my thigh.

"No," I managed to croak out. "I want you on top. I want to scratch your back and kiss you. I want to feel nothing but you all around me, on top of me, and inside me."

His fingers brushed against my hole and slowly began to massage.

Despite that, he gave me a concerned look. "You're sure, Chris? I don't want to end up hurting you. You'd have more control on top."

I know, I don't care!

"I trust you," I said instead. "Believe me, I'm not a porcelain doll."

He gently pressed a finger into me, making me bite back a moan. It only took a moment for me to be accustomed to the intrusion, and he started to move it around in me. His other hand was kneading my cheek as he began to add a second finger. It didn't enter me as easily as the first, and though I'd never admit it to him, it even hurt a little. Without me saying anything, he somehow knew and looked at me sympathetically. I tried to quell his anxiety with a smile, but he wasn't buying it.

"We're going to need lube, Chris."

Though it might have been uncomfortable, I was still loathe to move away from him. When I didn't move off of him, he removed his fingers from me and gave me a patient look. I got off with a groan.

"Don't give me that look," he chided me as he got out of bed. "Lie down."

I did as he directed, and a he was between my legs a second later; his lascivious smirk made my stomach flip. He slid his body over up over mine until he reached my lips. He kissed me briefly but deeply, then lowered himself again, kissing down my chest as he went. As he did, he squeezed a small glob of lube onto two of his fingers and began to work them inside of me. This time, he was met with only the slightest amount of resistance before I was eagerly accepting his digits inside me. He massaged me from the inside-out, making small circles that loosened me up in preparation for what was to come. He worked his fingers slowly out then back in several times, coming so close to the bundle of nerves inside me but never actually touching - purposefully, I knew. When he'd established a rhythm, he added then a third finger. As he pumped his fingers into me, he continued to nip and suck at my chest and torso. He dipped his tongue into my navel and I had to moan, surprised at how I could feel it go straight to my dick.

"Oh, Julian, please."

He grinned up at me. "Isn't that funny, you're begging me now."

If he weren't lying down, he would've been able to see me roll my eyes. "You should know by now that I was born without shame. I'll beg you, baby. For as long as you want me to."

"Is that a challenge, Haze?"

"No - it's a fact."

He rose up to his knees, carefully extracting his fingers from inside me. He gazed at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Oh, shit. Before he had a chance to make whatever threat he was obviously about to, I hooked my legs around his waist and pulled him close. He fell on top of me, his arms landing on either side of me to catch himself. I claimed his snarky, sarcastic lips and savored how they moved with mine. I could feel his cock rub against my hole, but he didn't venture into me. We stared at each other as we pulled apart. I gave him a small kiss on his chin.

"Okay, I'm done, Jules. No more teasing. I want you and I need you, now."

He gave me a quick peck and went back between my legs wordlessly. He reached out his hand and grabbed a small pillow which he tucked beneath my hips, paying special attention as he lifted my ass off the bed. He leaned back and I watched in anticipation as he covered his cock with lube and dripped more down between my cheeks for good measure. He wrapped my legs around him, poised his tip at my entrance, and was still. He bent over me and kissed me adoringly, his hands gripping my thighs.

"You are exquisite, Chris," he murmured. "Absolutely mesmerizing."

I didn't have a response to that except to tighten my legs around him, pulling him as close to me as I could without actually taking him inside me. No, I wanted him to do that on his own accord. I was quivering beneath him with desire, but I wouldn't force anything.

I didn't have to wait long for my wishes to be fulfilled. A half-second later, and I felt him cautiously pushing into me, making me moan lowly. Even through his hesitancy, he couldn't help his deep, almost animalistic groan. Every inch he sank into me felt divine and sent fire through my veins. I felt impossibly full when he bottomed out in me, and we both let out heavy, garbled sighs; all I could think was that being connected with Julian in such a way felt so right. Sex with Julian was so much more than simply trying to get off - it was an expression of our love and affection for each other. I was his; he was mine.