The Wrong Type of Forever

Chapter 1.4

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

1.4

On the bed inside their room, Mitchell’s hips dug into Dorian’s ass mercilessly, punishing the man under him who groaned in pain and pleasure. Dorian’s sweaty back gleamed under the bedroom light as he fisted the sheets.

“Mi…Mitch… Fuck…”

With his head half turned leaning on the pillow, Mitchell saw Dorian drooling, eyes half out of it. Mitchell snapped his waist, pounding harder into the sensitive flesh. His large hand smacked down on Dorian’s already ruby buttocks. Once. Twice.

Dorian bit into the pillow. Tears leaked from his eyes as he jerked to each of Mitchell’s thrusts. When Mitch dipped deep and hard wanting to reach Dorian’s all, that muscular back arched, ass lifting higher for Mitchell’s access. This made Mitchell want more, working harder to make Dorian whine pitifully.

“I’ve only fucked you three times, Bats. Why are you acting like you can’t take anymore?” Mitchell chuckled low, slowing down to draw out his own pleasure and to prolong Dorian’s agony. He loved watching his lover tremble under him. Loved the scent of them mingled in carnal lust. He loved hearing Dorian whimper, mewl, gasp, and pant. And he especially loved seeing those tears.

Tight slick flesh, wrapped his cock beautifully. The friction of moving in and out of that perfect hole felt like sin every time. Mitchell hammered faster slipping in, sliding out. Fuck…so good.

Dorian glanced back over his shoulder, misty eyes pleading for more or for mercy, Mitchell wasn’t sure which. However, when he saw that pink tongue barely licking his trembling lips, tempting him, Mitchell’s dick twitched and his hips hammered harder.

When Dorian fucked Mitchell, it was always tender and slow, careful as if afraid to break Mitchell. But when Mitchell took his turn, it was hard, nasty, sweaty, and merciless. He loved watching Dorian’s pleasure and pain collide. Outside of bed, Dorian might be intolerable, but in the sheets he was the most submissive, most horny, and easily came like a fountain, enjoying the ride Mitchell gave him.

Mitchell smacked those rounded red cheeks. “You want more don’t you?”

A grunt was his response.

“Should I tie you to the bed day and night so I can fuck you at will like a sex doll?” He asked cruelly, slowly drawing out his cock before shoving in fast. His buttocks tightened with the pleasurable feel of Dorian’s hole squeezing around him.

His lover gasped at the abrupt entrance. He shook his head, then nodded as if unsure what he wanted. He opened his mouth wanting to speak or breathe, but all Mitchell saw was spit trickling from the corner of his lips. Those baby blue eyes rolled as Dorian’s body shock with another orgasm. Mitchell didn’t know how many the guy had, but Bats could orgasm three times before Mitchell ever came once. The man was so multi-orgasmic, sometimes Mitchell didn’t have to touch him, just kiss him deeply, and he’d cum in his pants. It was fucking amazing and Mitchell loved it.

But he loved Dorian more. Nothing would separate them. Not even this small incident. If anything, Dorian might get his wish, and Mitchell might end up his house husband.

Mitchell felt the intensity build, balls tingling with pleasure. Waves of heat massaged over him making his body tense, then shaking with pleasure before hot seed spilling from his dick. He groaned. Lips curving in complete satisfaction, he collapsed on Dorian’s back.

They lay, spooned, Dorian’s back against Mitchell’s sweaty chest.

“Mitchy?” Bats murmured in a breathy tired tone.

“Hmm?”

“I love you. And I’m sorry.” His hand wandered until it cupped Mitchell’s thigh.

“I love you, too. Don’t do it again.” Mitchell moved one leg so that it nestled between Dorian’s thighs.

“Ok.”

Soft breathing sounds filled the room lingering with the musk of sex.

“Mitchy?”

“Hmm?”

“I want us to get married.”

“Ok.”

“Can I pick the theme?”

Mitchell snorted a laugh, knowing the whole wedding was going to be chaotic. “Do what you want, Bats.”

“Kay. Rainbows are too cliché, so I’m thinking an underwater theme.”

“Please tell me we won’t actually be under water.” Mitchell groaned.

“It will be amazing!” Dorian sang. “A little Mermaid theme!”

Mitchell groaned knowing he shot himself in the foot.

“Hey, Mitchy?”

“Yeah.”

“My ass hurts. Aren’t you supposed to do the after care.”

“You have to do it yourself today, or it won’t be punishment.”

“Damn, was hopin’ you’d ‘ave forgotten that wee detail,” Dorian said in what Mitchell guessed was a bad Scottish accent.

Mitchell smirked nuzzling Dorian’s neck. “Next time behave, and I’ll forget that wee detail.”

“…you’ll forget now?”

“Mmmm, nope.”

Mitchell lay kissing Dorian’s shoulder as his best friend slowly drifted off to sleep. Then the phone rang. That was the ringtone on his phone. Not many people called that late a night. He rolled over and looked at the object flashing on the nightstand. After checking the screen, he got up from the bed and left the bedroom so not to disturb Dorian.

Out in the hall he took a deep breath, before answering it. He had planned to waiting until tomorrow, but…now or never.

“Mitchell?” The man’s low tired voice asked when Mitchell never spoke.

“Dad.”

His father cleared his throat. “I’m not going to pretend I’m comfortable with this topic of conversation… But I promised your mother I would…try not to put my foot in my mouth.” He cleared his throat again.

Even though his mother and father were no longer together, they kept in contact when it came to Mitchell. That was about all. His father wasn’t a bad guy, just too much of a penny pincher for his mother’s taste.

His mother was an open-minded person, so she saw and recognized that Mitchell was gay and dating Dorian before Mitchell even confessed to her. She just shrugged and said, “You’ve got your hands full.” Then she kissed Dorian on the forehead and said, “You’ve always been family, so there isn’t anything I need to say.” Dorian’s mother and his mother were already friends so they had discussed it. That was back in high school.

Mitchell wouldn’t be surprised if Dorian’s mother had already prepared the wedding for them. The woman was far kinder, sweeter, and patient than Dorian’s father. Her generous forgiving heart was another reason Dorian hated the man for cheating on his mother. And what little communication the father and son had crumbled to dust when his father found out about their relationship. The man cursed and scolded Dorian’s mother for raising him to be “filthy”. Then he went on to find Dorian and Mitchell and dressed them down like being gay was the worst thing in the world. And in good old Dorian fashion, he hit the man, throwing years of football training into each punch. Though the man blocked several of the hits, Dorian got in some good ones. And even told the man if he ever contacted his mother or him again, he’d sick his Uncle Ivan on the man. They never saw Dorian’s father again. And rightly so, Dorian’s uncle had no conscience.

After that incident, Dorian and Mitchell agreed not to tell Mitchell’s father. Though Mitchell never heard his father’s stance on homosexuality, he knew most fathers weren’t happy learning their sons might being gay.

“First…” His father took in a deep breath. “Please tell me that wasn’t the idiot!” His father never really cared for Dorian’s antics. “It’s no wonder you got caught on camera. Of all the guys you could pick!” His father’s voice got louder. “Couldn’t you pick one who knows the definition of sanity and discretion?”

“Dad.” Mitchell rubbed his forehead. “It’s late.”

“Sorry… I just… Dorian? Really?

Mitchell chuckled. “Yes.”

His father groaned. “It might be easier to accept if it was someone else…maybe.”

“It’s not. It won’t be. Deal with it.”

His father’s sigh draped a heavy weight over Mitchell’s already burdened shoulders.

“I know it’s not what you wanted for me… But look on the bright side,” Mitchell walked to the kitchen. “At least you don’t have to buy gifts for grand-kids.”

His father groaned. “I’m not that bad, Mitchell.”

Yes, he was. “Dad, you’re stingy. And I’m gay. Accept it.”

Silence.

“You’re right, its late. I’ll call you later?” His father sounded resigned.

“Sure.” Mitchell hung up and stopped walking to look up at the ceiling. Then he smiled. It was a lot better than he imagined.

****

The next morning, fresh out of the shower, Mitchell ran to the dresser where his phone was ringing. He checked the caller ID making sure it wasn’t a reporter.

“Yeah?” He answered, closed his eyes, and waited. His mother told him just an hour before, to be patient because it was pretty new for his father. And the guy did learn by seeing it on national television, so there’s that. Mitchell didn’t blame the man if he got pissed off just from learning it that way alone. But last night his father was pretty chill.

There was a throat clearing. “I have some business in Pittsburgh next month…”

Mitchell smiled. Meeting the guy halfway, he said, “If you can hold your tongue about Dorian, I’ll meet you for lunch at that steakhouse you like. I’ll even pay.”

“Is the Strange One coming with you?” His father’s voice sounded tense.

Mitchell chuckled at his father’s usual nickname for Dorian. “I can leave him home.”

“Then I will send my schedule to you so we can find a good time to meet.”

After Mitchell hung up, he took the towel draped over his shoulder and finished drying off. Then he wrapped the cloth around his waist and trotted to the kitchen where he smelled bacon cooking.

Dancing in the open space of the kitchen, naked and happy, Dorian cooked breakfast, singing off key to some song Mitchell had never heard. The guy probably made it up.

Mitchell watched amused as that muscled ass and backside grooved to the non-existent beat. The sight was making his cock thicken, but Mitchell wanted breakfast first. Smacking those buns of steel, enjoying the yelp from Dorian’s mouth, Mitchell went to the frig and pulled out cranberry apple juice. He poured them both large glasses.

“My father called,” Mitchell said taking the drinks to set on the table.

“Uh, oh…” Dorian groaned. “Do I need to avoid Papa Pearson?” he asked. Mitchell told him last night when he got back to bed that his father had called and wasn’t happy about Dorian, just to warn the guy to avoid his father.

“No. He invited me to lunch. I think he’s trying to understand…at least I hope so,” Mitchell said snagging a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter and chomping down on it before he turned to stare at his best friend’s reaction.

Dorian just stared, wide-eyed.

Mitchell kissed him quickly before saying, “You’re burning my eggs, man.”

Dorian quickly went back to cooking, grinning like a fool. “Papa Pearson loves me.”

“He didn’t say that.”

“He does. I can tell.”

“You weren’t invited to the lunch.”

Why not?” Dorian whined taking the pan off the stove. He walked to the table. Mitchell followed the smell of food while keeping his sight on Dorian’s ass.

“Let him get used to us first, Bats. The way he found out shocked the hell out of him. Even I would be shocked if I found my father kissing on television.”

Dorian sighed. “Yeah, my fault.”

Mitchell didn’t disagree as he sat down at the table.

Dorian scooted eggs onto his plate.

After both of their plates were piled high with eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast they ate discussing the busy day ahead.

“You still avoiding, Cody?” Mitchell asked as Dorian slathered strawberry jelly on his toast.

The guy twisted his lips in a pout. “That woman packs a mean punch. Did I mention she grabbed my hair and yanked it?” He winced as if he could still feel it. “If I didn’t deserve it, I’d sue for emotional damages and a receding hair line.”

Mitchell chuckled. “Just be glad she’s pregnant or you’d have to face her wrath with full force, and every degree of her black belt.”

“Oh, I thank those unborn little angels every day for keeping their mama subdued. I just hope by the time she gives birth, all is forgiven, and I won’t have to run for my ever loving-“

The house phone rang.

Mitchell got up to look at the caller ID. It was an unknown number. “Probably reporters.”

Dorian growled, got up and grabbed the phone before Mitchell could stop him. “Look you evil bastards, stop calling here harassing my boo. That’s my job! And don’t you have better stories to cover, I mean I know my Mitchy is the best-looking story, but shit, back the fuck…” He trailed off, blew out a breath and narrowed his eyes as if listening.

“Telemarketer?” Mitchell chuckled at the look on Dorian’s sulky face.

“Worse.” He rolled his eyes. “My Uncle Ivan.”

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