“I was ready.” Apollo was more decisive now. “It took me a bit to get there, and even longer to figure out the words to say to you, but like you said about your job, I had to do this for me. I changed the space and put away the ring for me, because I needed that, because I was ready. Not because you pushed me, but because you gave me wings to do what I needed to do for me.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re doing a pretty fine job with words.” Dylan’s heart swelled, so much that he wasn’t sure his chest could hold all the hope—yes, hope—that he was finally letting free. God, but he loved this man. Trying not to tear up, he forced himself to laugh and pushed Apollo onto his bed. “I am going to miss the mirrored door though.”
“You’re welcome to come visit the guest room any time.” Apollo chuckled, then got serious as he sat up on the bed. “But you don’t have to either—I heard what you said that night. I want you for you. Not because the girls adore you or because I want live-in help, but for you.”
Dylan bit his lip hard to keep the tears that kept threatening at bay. He hadn’t realized until this moment how badly he needed to hear that. All day he’d been fighting a losing battle against his emotions, against the need to forgive Apollo, to love him again. To trust in this thing—more than tattoos, more than paint jobs and empty ring fingers, he’d needed that trust, those words from this man. His man.
“Come here.” His voice was husky, giving away too much, but he didn’t care as he straddled Apollo’s lap. “I want you for you too. I know you think this is just a silly crush—”
Apollo cut him off with a kiss. “I don’t think that. Not anymore. You get me.” He rolled his forearm so Dylan could see the gauze covering the new tattoo. “Puzzle piece, remember? You make everything else make sense.”
Dylan lightly traced the edge of the bandage. The tattoo itself was small, fairly unobtrusive as far as ink went, a little blue three-dimensional edge puzzle piece. And he couldn’t wait to see it again once the bandage came off. “You make everything make sense too. I’ve missed you,” he admitted. “So much.”
“I missed you too.” Apollo pulled him closer for a kiss. The kiss started slow, a gentle acknowledgment of what they’d been doing without, a way to communicate all the longing they’d built up, but it quickly morphed into something hotter, needier.
“Need your skin.” Dylan started in on Apollo’s shirt buttons then paused remembering that he was still in the shorts and shirt he’d scrimmaged in. “Fuck. I should really shower before—”
“Fuck sweat. I could be trapped in the desert with you for a week, and I’d still want you. Shower after. I painted the bathroom too, and there’s a huge shower in there that you’ll love, but right now I need this.” Apollo yanked Dylan’s shirt off. “Need you.”
They scrambled out of their remaining clothes, barely breaking apart, until they were both naked and Dylan was back on Apollo’s lap, letting him know with lips and tongue how even that brief separation had been too long. Their cocks rubbed together, and Dylan pressed closer, seeking more of the delicious friction. The hair on Apollo’s stomach rasped against his sensitive skin and Apollo’s grip on his ass urged him closer still.
Apollo nibbled on his neck, making Dylan shiver and squirm. “I...probably...need a shave,” he gasped.
“This is me not giving a fuck.” Apollo nipped at the skin under his Adam’s apple. He wormed a hand between the two of them, getting both their cocks in his big hand.
“Yeah, that.” Dylan arched into the contact. “Not going to last long. Been too long.”
“Way too long,” Apollo agreed. A sly smile crept over his face. “So you haven’t...”
“My hand and I are besties,” Dylan confirmed. “Nothing else. I was too hung up on you.”
“Is it wrong that I’m glad?” Apollo claimed his mouth again, a possessive gesture that made Dylan’s toes clench and his hands tighten on Apollo’s shoulders. His dick throbbed as Apollo stroked their cocks, slowly at first, way too lightly, but picking up speed as the kiss grew hungrier, more demanding.
It wasn’t enough though and Dylan pushed his hand between them as well, covering Apollo’s. Instead of batting him away, Apollo groaned, moving his hand so that they were both stroking, linked hands forming a tight channel for their dicks. “Yeah, that’s it. Together.”
“Together,” Dylan echoed.
“Gonna come for me?” Apollo rocked his hips, moving Dylan against him with his free hand, starting an urgent rhythm.
“Yeah,” Dylan gasped.
“Good. Want that. Want to come together.” Apollo growled, dropping his head to bite at Dylan’s shoulder, raising goosebumps all down Dylan’s spine.