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The prospect of moving into Leo’s flat was exciting, and Tristan wanted to check it out straight away. They took an Uber to Woollahra and a set of red-brick flats that were nothing special from the outside…and nothing special from the inside either.
Leo’s flat was definitely nicer than the house—but then, the skip bin out the back of Coles was a lot nicer than the house, simply because it didn’t have that weird recurring mould—so Tristan supposed that particular bar was set pretty low. It was only one bedroom like Leo had said, but that bedroom was a decent size and had a big enough built-in wardrobe that Tristan would be able to fit most of his stuff in there. The rest of the flat was airy and modern, and it boasted an honest-to-god bathtub—and most importantly, it had Leo in it.
Tristan looked around the place, imagining he was a spy and he’d been sent to dig up information about Leo Fisher. While he could have just asked anything he wanted to know, it was fun to put together his own picture, based on the takeaway menus Leo had stuck to his fridge, the books on his shelf, and the couple of photographs he spotted here and there. There wasn’t a single sex toy in sight, which was no surprise. It looked like Leo’s decadence only went as far as the six-pack of imported beer in the fridge and the half-eaten box of those fancy chocolates shaped like seashells. It was all very sensible and clean and decent, just like Leo, and Tristan loved it, just like?—
No.
He was falling for Leo, yes, but he hadn’t fallen all the way yet. For some reason that seemed like an important distinction. Because Tristan didn’t fall in love, and when he did, he would only do so after an appropriate length of time, whatever that was. Tristan was only new to feeling even a little bit like an adult, but he wanted to get it right. He wasn’t going to spoil whatever this was with a premature declaration.
Although now that he thought about it, Leo asking him to move in seemed like the definition of premature. A ball of anxiety squirmed its way into his chest as he wondered if Leo had felt obliged to offer, rather than see him homeless. It seemed like a very Leo thing to do.
But then he remembered the way Leo had beamed at him like he was the one who’d won the mythical Spanish National Lottery when Tristan had said yes. The knot of worry eased and was replaced with a warm glow when Leo took a laminated card off the fridge that had been stuck there with a magnet and held it out. “I know you haven’t moved in yet, but while I remember, here’s the wi-fi password. The Netflix password is the same. You may as well put them in your phone now.”
So fucking thoughtful.
Tristan plucked the card from Leo’s hand then quickly entered the details in his phone before handing it back. “Best landlord ever. Best boyfriend ever.”
Leo’s mouth quirked up in a smile as he stuck the card back on the fridge. “Did you want a drink or something?” He stood there, his hands twitching at his sides like he wasn’t sure what was meant to happen next, uncertain and adorable all at once.
Tristan decided to rescue him and held out a hand. “Show me the bedroom again? I want to check something.” Leo creased his brow but he took Tristan’s hand and let himself be led. Once they reached the doorway, Tristan hummed and pointed to the neatly made bed. “Exactly what I thought. It’s missing something.”
“Do you need more pillows? Or another lamp?” Leo asked, creasing his brow further. “Because I can?—”
“It’s your bed,” Tristan interrupted. He placed his hands on Leo’s hips and turned them so Leo was backed against the door, then leaned in so his mouth was next to Leo’s ear and breathed, “I just think it would look better with you in it.” Then he kissed him, teasing at the seam of Leo’s mouth with the tip of his tongue until Leo opened up and let him in. Tristan kissed him long and slow, smiling to himself when Leo began to squirm against him. He moved to brush his lips lightly down the side of Leo’s neck and nuzzle at the collar of his T-shirt to get to his collarbones so he could kiss him there, as well.
When he raised his head, Leo’s eyes were dark, his mouth hanging open. “Oh,” he said, a little breathless. “You’re seducing me.”
Tristan grinned and slid his hands around to cup Leo’s arse. “I’m trying to, yes. Is it working?”
Leo tugged at Tristan’s hand and dragged it to the front of his jeans so Tristan could feel the bulge there. “God, yes.” He groaned. “Now are you taking me to bed or not?”
Tristan tried not to let his success go to his head, but he couldn’t deny that Leo wanting him was a thrill, that it was different from when he was just hooking up. With Leo, it meant so much more.
Comparing his old hook-ups with Leo was like comparing a slice of supermarket pizza at the kitchen table with a slab of fresh, hot dough topped with sauce, mozzarella and basil served from a wood-fired oven, while sipping a nice red at an outdoor cafe in Tuscany. The basics might be the same, but the entire experience was worlds apart, and Tristan knew which he preferred. He’d take a slab of fresh, hot Leo every time.
He slid his hands under Leo’s thighs and hoisted him up without warning. Leo let out a startled laugh and grabbed at Tristan’s shoulders, crossing his ankles to keep himself steady while Tristan carried him the five steps over to the bed and dropped him there so he bounced slightly. He was still laughing as he kicked off his shoes, shimmy-shuffled out of his pants then pulled his shirt over his head.
“You can, um, do that anytime,” Leo said, colour high in his cheeks. Tristan made a mental note to manhandle Leo as often as he could, just so he’d get to see the wide-eyed look of arousal he was wearing right now. It was a good look, and it had the effect of making Tristan achingly hard.
He stripped out of his clothes and dived onto the bed next to Leo, capturing him in a kiss. Leo wrapped his arms around Tristan and tugged him down so their bodies were pressed together, kissing him enthusiastically. Leo’s cock brushed against his. When Tristan pulled back to catch his breath, Leo’s eyes were bright with anticipation. He was fucking gorgeous right now. Just the sight of him made Tristan’s dick ache, a dull throb like an extra heartbeat, and he knew this wasn’t going to take long.
Tristan took an educated guess and leaned over and pulled open the bedside drawer, scrabbling his fingers fruitlessly for a few seconds before he found what he was looking for. He held up the lube, triumphant, and Leo grinned at him. Tristan slicked up his palm and wedged it between their bodies, wrapping his hand around their dicks. Leo made a high-pitched, needy sound and Tristan echoed it. A shiver ran through him when Leo closed a hand over his and he took control and started jerking them off, slow, easy and far better than it had any right to be.
“Fuck.” Tristan panted. “How are you making a hand job so fucking sexy?”
Leo let out a breathless laugh, speeding up his movements and tightening his grip. Heat coiled deep in Tristan’s gut, pulsing just beneath the surface. Every stroke brought him closer to the edge, and when Leo dragged the pad of his thumb over the head of Tristan’s cock, that was all it took. His back arched, his toes curled and he saw stars, maybe even a galaxy or two, as he came all over himself. Despite the suddenness with which he’d come, Tristan felt a bone-deep satisfaction settling over him, even as he shivered through the aftershocks.
Leo let out a low grunt and shuddered, and wet warmth spilled over Tristan’s knuckles. Leo stilled his hand and he lay there panting, his short, shallow breaths warm against the side of Tristan’s throat. Tristan closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, ignoring the cum on his belly and his fingers, happy for now to stay tangled in a sweaty, boneless mess.
Leo sighed happily next to him. “Fuck, that was good.” He kissed Tristan’s cheek then sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When Tristan made a questioning noise, Leo said, “I’m just gonna clean us up.”
He was back with a warm cloth before Tristan had time to miss him. Leo wiped their stomachs down then cleaned Tristan’s hand, kissing his knuckles as he carefully dabbed away the mess. Somehow that felt more intimate than the sex they’d just had.
Once he was done, Tristan took the cloth from him and dropped it over the side of the bed, then reached out and pulled Leo back into bed with him so he was sprawled against Tristan’s chest. “How is everything with you so good?” he asked quietly—and meant it. He’d had a lot of sexual experiences since that blow job in the nightclub bathroom at eighteen, yet a messy hand job from Leo had managed to eclipse them all.
Living with Leo while the house was being fixed was going to be amazing.
Chapter Fourteen
