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The Only Thing That Mattered
Sometimes, Michael wondered if continuing this was really smart. He knew it could be detrimental to his job, his circle of friends, Tom’s marriage…but he didn’t want to give it up. And he didn’t think Tom did either.
It was, at least right now, just a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. No one else knew what was going on, least of all Tom’s wife or their mutual coworkers. They would get together several times a week, and most of the time, they would just watch movies or play video games. Have a few beers, shoot the shit. Normal guy things. But sometimes, Tom would show up with heat in his eyes and Michael was powerless to discourage such things.
It was always up to Tom. Michael just made himself available, made it so Tom was always the one to decide. Because, what did Michael have to lose? Tom had a family and a house and… Michael was just there for him whenever Tom needed him.
There wasn’t one thing that would send Tom to Michael. It wasn’t always a fight with Jamie or a bad day at work. Sometimes it was a good day at work, or just because Tom felt lonely, or just because he needed something Jamie couldn’t give him. And Michael was always ready to help out a friend.
And if he was honest with himself, Michael could admit that he was in love with Tom. Loved every part of him… the geekiness of his video game obsession with old school Nintendo, the rare times when he wanted to just sit and talk about things of the world…
Michael even loved the times when he was angry and just wanted to vent about whatever.
Another thing that Michael loved was how passionate Tom was about everything. He was fiercely competitive about any kind of competition, and he loved his friends and family with such determination and candor, that Michael knew Tom cared about him, without ever having said a word.
But the best thing, the thing that Michael absolutely loved the most, was how Tom made him feel. When Tom needed him, it was like they were the only two people in the whole world. Time didn’t matter, trivial things like the weather didn’t matter… it was just focused down to the two of them.
Especially times like these. Tom had shown up at his door and before Michael could even say hello and invite him in, Tom was already inside, pressing kisses to Michael’s lips, tugging his clothes of and whispering words that Michael loved to hear.
“Please,” and “need you,” and when Tom said his name… there was no resisting even if Michael had wanted to.
Sweet and loving, hard and consuming… it didn’t matter how Tom wanted it, Michael was more than ready to accommodate. It wasn’t like Tom ever left Michael unsatisfied, so why should he complain?
Fingers brushed along Michael’s collarbone and there was passion in Tom’s eyes as he was led to the bedroom. Clothing was shed along the way, too desperate for each other for it to be calm and easy. It had been days. Or weeks, Michael couldn’t remember.
Kisses landed haphazardly, but once they tumbled into Michael’s bed, it was all business. Tom found the bottle of lube that Michael kept in the drawer beside the bed and was between his legs pushing fingers into his ass with such determination that Michael could only go with it.
Tom was so good; it was always like this. Michael was already hard and Tom’s big, thick fingers, that never failed to find his prostate, didn’t fail now, either.
The sounds of Michael’s panting filled the room and he called for Tom to hurry, to please, just hurry up and fuck him because otherwise he felt like he might break apart. And then Tom was there. His cock sliding inside, his hands grasping Michael’s hips… and there was thrusting and it was so good that Michael could only choke back a scream.
Deep, hard, determined thrusts inside that only had one goal, one blissful outcome. Tom worked towards his goal, dragging Michael to him with each stroke, grunting out sounds that could have been words.
Michael’s senses were inundated. Overwhelmed, he was surprised when a hand wrapped around his cock and started moving in time to the thrusts inside. He cried out again, in gratitude as he felt himself coming, orgasm ripping through him, so good that he saw black spots swim in his vision.
Finally, Michael caught his breath and opened his eyes. Tom was sprawled next to him, grinning and reaching out with one hand to pull Michael closer.
He never said ‘I love you,’ or made any kinds of promises with words, but Michael could see the love in his eyes and he knew that he’d be there whenever he could for Tom.
Above wives, or work, or even Michael’s own feelings… Tom was the only thing that mattered.
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