There’s something to be said for fucking the same person more than once. More than a hundred times.

More than a million times.

He falls into your bed again, naked and beautiful as ever, pale skin tinted the slightest tan from the California sun, and though his hair is shorter, his stomach a little tighter, he’s still the same. And when his lips touch your cock and he swallows you into his throat, you know there’s no one else that can make you feel like this.

You come quickly the first time, the talent of his lips and tongue bringing you to the edge faster than you even thought was possible. And when he takes your come all into his mouth and crawls up your chest to share it with you, sliding his tongue across yours, you know that *this* is what it’s all about and climb down his chest to reciprocate.

He tastes the same, he smells the same, and you’re sure he’s waxed because, well, *that’s* not the same, and when his cock slides between your lips and you hear him let out that moan that only sucking his cock will bring, you know he’s home again.

His come fills your mouth and you swallow him down, all of it, sucking at him for more, until he protests and begs you to fuck him. Your bodies spoon together, lining up perfectly like no one else’s ever seems to, and when you bury your cock into his tight ass, you hold your breath because it feels so good.

You always thought ass was ass but you realize now you couldn’t have ever been more wrong. And even more importantly, you realize that it’s not just about the ass, it’s the kissing and laughter, it’s squeezing fingers together and feeling his tongue against yours, it’s the passion and fucking and having it together, and it’s the best goddamn thing you’ve had since he left.

You realize that nothing really does compare to this, and the thought of it makes you shudder when you come, makes you push into him harder and deeper, and makes you wrap your arms tightly around his chest, holding him against your body, not ever wanting to let go.

And maybe you were wrong to think he’d gone forever, even though you figure the chance was there. Maybe you were wrong to think that he’d never come back to this — not Pittsburgh, but *this*. Maybe he loves this and needs this as much as you do.

Maybe... just maybe...

He climbs up on your chest and rides your cock, and you watch his face as he does, see how he keeps opening his eyes to look at you and smile, feel his fingers touching your chin as he bobs up and down in your lap, respond to his kisses as he bends down to put your mouths together.

Maybe... just maybe...

And later, when you’re sated for now, for this hour, this minute... until the need comes again to take him into your arms, to suck him, to fuck him, to let him know that you really did fucking miss him more than words could ever possibly do justice... you talk.

Rather... *he* talks and you find out that maybe, just maybe... is a yes, for sure, definitely... and you don’t like how much you needed to hear that from him, how much you wanted to know that he missed you too... but it’s a fact of your life now, it’s not anything you can pretend anymore, at least not in front of him.

And when he asks if your offer still stands, there’s one single emotion that flows through you – joy. You pull open the drawer that’s sat empty for days, weeks, months and the look on his face when he sees it lets you know that he realizes exactly how much you missed him.

You love that he knows. You love that you didn’t have to say a word. But he knows you well enough know to understand you. To love you anyway.

He smiles and pushes you back onto the bed and you think again how glad you are that you broke all your rules for him, that you fucked him again, that you fucked him a million times. Sometimes you feel like you might want to fuck him forever.

Kisses on your face, cock buried inside him, his scent all over you, in your mouth, on your skin, filtered through your hair.

You push aside thoughts of forever and focus on now and him and this because it’s here and you missed it, wanted it, needed it.

But you kiss him again, and it’s passion and euphoria and relief and just-so-fucking-good... and you wonder if...

Maybe... just maybe...

This is what forever feels like.