Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,119

course you are.”

“No, I’m not,” he says, grabbing my hands and squeezing them. “I’m really not. I’m arrogant and selfish and have no fucking idea how to make us work. I need you for that. I’ll always need you for that.” He smiles tenderly. “I think we need to remember that we’re a team. Our strengths and weaknesses go together. We look after us, and the rest of the fucking world can mind its own bloody business. Fuck the trolls on the internet. Fuck the tabloids. Fuck everyone. It’s us that’s important when we’re together.” He pulls me close. “You need to learn this,” he says urgently. “You’ll have to grow a thick skin, and I’m devastated to think that some of your sunniness and trust in people might go, but I’m selfish. I can’t be without you. You’re giving up a lot to be with me – privacy, peace of mind. Don’t think I don’t know it and that I’m not grateful for every second that you stay with me.”

He kisses me, his lips clinging softly to mine, and suddenly need roars through me.

“Gideon,” I say harshly, fisting his T-shirt in my hands.

His eyes darken. “Yes,” he says thickly. “Yes.”

And then we’re tearing our clothes off in this dusty, empty room. Our bed is the wooden floorboards and our covers the undulating light from the lazy river outside that plays over the walls and floor. We don’t make any attempt to fuck each other. Instead, we lie entwined and grinding, our cocks rubbing deliciously against each other in a slick of pre-come and sweat, until we cry out and come gushes between us and mingles on our stomachs.

Gideon grabs his T-shirt to clean us off, and we lie back, my head on his shoulder, my leg thrown over his, and his fingers playing in my hair. Silence falls, comfortable and easy again.

Eventually, I stir and look up to find him staring at the ceiling, his eyes busy.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“This would be a lovely main bedroom.”

I stretch lazily. “So, we’re buying it, then?”

He looks down at me, his eyes creasing in a warm smile. “Well, I’d like to. What do you think, partner?”

I smile up at him. “I think I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life.” His eyes soften, and I grin. “And I think I’d like to live here.” He whoops and hugs me close, and I laugh. “I’m also thinking that we’re now stranded at this house without a car, and one of us has no shirt because it’s covered in come.”

“Maybe we should just stay here,” he muses, lying back on the floor.

“For how long?”

“Forever,” he says sleepily. “Or at least until dinnertime.”

I sigh. “I like your thinking.”

First Night Fathers

Gideon

I come awake with a start. It feels like I’m surfacing from a faraway planet, so I know I was deeply asleep. “What?” I say groggily. “What’s the matter?” Memory soars back. “Hetty?” I gasp. We’re in the hospital suite with our new baby.

“Ssh!” Eli’s voice whispers. “You’ll wake her up.”

“Well, I’m so glad you’re showing some concern for that. Why then is it acceptable to wake me up?” I ask grouchily.

“Your voice is so loud,” Eli observes.

“It’s my moneymaker,” I say loftily.

“Does the moneymaker have to be so loud?”

“Piss off,” I whisper.

The uncomfortable hospital bed depresses with his weight, and I inhale the scent of coconut which, for a second, overtakes the room’s faint disinfectant smell. I wrap my arms around him and kiss the top of his head, filled suddenly with so much love for him.

“This is lovely,” I whisper. “But weren’t your last words to me that I should take the first sleep?”

“Yes, well, I changed my mind.”

“This isn’t a democracy anymore, is it?”

“Gid, this has never been a democracy, and you know it.”

“I have come to terms with that fact,” I say sadly, and he snorts softly. “So, what’s up?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says quickly.

“Eli, I may be a novice with all things relationship, but I’m bloody good with body language and non-verbal cues, and my deductive powers are telling me that…” I stop talking as I register the fine tremor in his body. “You’re scared. Sweetheart, what is it? Tell me, and I’ll sort it.” The words rush out of me like a river bursting the dam.

He twists to look at me and the faint light washes over his face. “I am scared,” he whispers. “How stupid is that?”

“What are you scared