A to Z - 53. Chapter 53 Return

Monday March 13 – continued

There was a noise and suddenly I jerked awake. I had been dozing over my book. I listened. Voices, downstairs. Zander was home!

I scrambled off the bed and tumbled down the stairs, my feet thundering on the carpeted steps. I hesitated in the kitchen doorway just long enough to locate Zander, standing next to the kitchen table. He was turned toward me, a smile forming on his lips.

I flew across the room, practically launching myself at him. And then I had him, my arms wrapped around him. I never wanted to let him go again. I buried my face in Zander's neck, inhaling him, letting him invade my senses. He was safe and here with me again.

"You miss me?" Zander murmured.

I nodded into his shoulder. "I was so worried. You didn't pick up when I called, and I thought that maybe the bus had crashed, or you'd gotten sick, or something…"

I heard a polite cough on my right. I looked up to see Coach Simpson looking directly at me, with a smirk on his face. "Hello, Andy."

Startled, I relaxed my grip on Zander, and I started to release him. Zander had other ideas. He held tight and wouldn't let me go. "Hi, coach," I returned, embarrassed.

"Your, umm, boyfriend did well this weekend. Really well," he commented.

Boyfriend. So he knew. As if my welcome home hadn't been giveaway enough. I looked at Zander, who nodded very slightly. Only then did I realize he was dressed in his swim team warmup jacket; only then did I notice something round and hard – two of them– hanging down on his chest between us. I looked down and saw medals. Bright and shiny, and quite large.

"I got second in the 500 free and third in the 200 fly," Zander broke into a broad grin.

"And he placed in the 200 free, too," added Coach Simpson.

I gaped. And then I hugged Zander tightly again. "That's so fantastic," I whispered to him. Call me stupid and sappy, but in that moment, I was so proud of him.

"I'd better push off, now," I heard Coach Simpson say.

Zander gently let me go and turned to shake his hand. "Thanks, Coach," he said quietly.

"Yes, thanks so much for everything," echoed Monica. "It was so good of you to bring Zander home."

"That's one hot swimmer you've got there," Coach said with his hand on the doorknob, fixing me with a look I couldn't quite read;"I wouldn’t let him go, if I were you. See you first thing tomorrow morning, boys."

"Sure thing, Coach," replied Zander.

And then he was gone into the night.

I looked at Zander quizzically. Something was up, and I didn't understand.

"Coach knows about me. About us," Zander said quietly.

"Before Zander got home," added Mr. Stevenson, clarifying.

Oh. I hadn't given it away.

"Greg Earwin outed me in a Facebook post online this weekend. Not just me, he outed a bunch of guys he knew about. Coach saw it," Zander explained.

"So everybody there knew?" I asked, unhappily.

"No. At least, I don't think so," he said. "Not yet. It'll spread once people start reading it, and then, suddenly, everyone will know."

"So why didn't you answer the phone?" I asked him.

"After Coach told me, I decided to call Gramps and Nonna Costanza, and then my sister Maria, my brother Frank, and Carol, my other sister. I wanted them to hear it from me, and not through some gossip or something. I was on the phone for most of the bus ride."

That made sense. And I admired the courage it took Zander to face his whole family like that.

"Well, that explains why your grandmother called in such a commotion," Mr. Stevenson put in.

"Nonna called?" Zander asked, startled. I felt his arm slip around my waist again.

"You bet she did," Monica snorted. "She was wired, going a mile a minute. She wasn't upset about your being gay, you know. No, she was all worked up about Andy, here. How could we adopt a child without telling her? When I told her I wasn't going to have her interrogating you on the phone, Andy, she threatened to hop on the next flight up to 'meet her new grandson,'" she narrated, making air quotes with her fingers. "I talked her out of it, for now, but I have the feeling Andy's going to get the full Costanza treatment sometime soon."

"Oh, boy," Zander chuckled, "that'll be great when that happens."

So that was who had been on the phone earlier.

"Yes, well, you'd better be prepared for the family examination – both of you," Mr. Stevenson said, with a tired smile. "It wouldn't surprise me if you had follow up calls from every branch of the family tree."

"But it's not happening tonight," added Monica. "Right now, you two are going to bed. You've had a big weekend, and school comes early in the morning, or so I understand." She gestured with her hands, as if to shoo us upstairs.

I picked up Zander's bag off the floor, and headed for the stairs. I stopped to give Monica a quick hug. "G'night, mom," I said, quietly. I was beginning to like the sound of that.

I got an extra squeeze back. "Sleep well, Andy."

Zander stayed downstairs to talk with his parents, then followed behind me a minute or two later. By then, I had changed into shorts and t-shirt for bed. He found me in the bathroom, brushing my teeth.

"Hey, you," he greeted me softly.

I tried to smile through a mouthful of toothpaste. "Hey."

Zander slipped behind me and slid his arms around my middle. "I really missed you," he murmured in my ear.

His embrace felt so warm and good. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't think he'd appreciate a toothpaste kiss. I bent to spit and rinse, and Zander released me. It felt so cold again.

"I got you a present," he said.

I turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I'm not telling you what it is," he laughed. "Come and get it when you're done."

I finished washing up before venturing into Zander's room. Only his desk light shone. He stood at his desk, rummaging through his bag. He pulled out something small and floppy and handed it to me; I couldn't quite make it out in the light.

I took it and immediately stared, surprised at the feel of silky fabric in my hand. I held it up. A Speedo. Like one of Zander's, but in green, with wide white stripes on the sides. He grinned back at me.

"I got it at the vendor's area between events," Zander explained happily, "and I knew you'd look cool in it."

I shook my head. “You want me to wear this?” I asked disbelievingly. It weighed next to nothing on my fingers. I wasn't sure how I'd even get into it.

"I think you'll look great in it," Zander smiled back.

I stood there, the Speedo weighing next to nothing in my hands. Zander stepped closer to me; he put his hands on my shoulders, kissed me softly, and murmured in my ear, "Go ahead, put it on. I want to see you in it."

"Okay," I said uncertainly.

I knew what he looked like in a Speedo. That isn't something I'll ever forget. On the other hand, I didn't think it would work on me. But I would do it for him. For Zander.

I retreated to my room and shucked my sleeping shorts, my old trusty basketball shorts I'd known since I'd stolen them from the Church of the Brethren last summer. In their place, I slowly pulled on the slippery, stretchy Speedo over my legs. How the hell did Zander wear one of these? It was like nothing I'd ever worn before. Hell, it practically felt like I was wearing nothing. It felt snug. Really snug. Where was I supposed to put everything? God help me if I ever got hard in it. But in a way, it felt good, almost sensual, too. It clung to every curve I had.

I hesitated, standing there in the dark, in my new, stretchy suit, wondering what Zander was thinking when he bought it. And then I remembered how he said I had almost made him cum talking to me on the phone. Was this payback for getting him worked up the other night? Well, if he wanted a show, I figured he'd get one. I stripped off my shirt and walked back through the bathroom to Zander's room.

As I entered, Zander looked up from where he sat on the end of his bed. And then I saw his eyes get wide, and his mouth open soundlessly. I stopped about a foot away and stood in front of him, hands on my hips, feet planted apart.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked him.

Zander looked me up and down slowly. His mouth hung open. "Holy shit," Zander breathed. "Andy, you're hot."

I flushed at the compliment and fought the urge to cover myself with my arms and hands. "So you think it fits?" I teased quietly.

Zander rose and stood inches away from me our chests almost touching. He looked into my eyes. "Oh, yeah. It fits perfectly," he smiled, as his arms found their way around me.

I couldn't help it. I leaned a little bit forward and kissed him. The pent up hunger of the past few days burst in my chest and suddenly I was all over Zander. In the space of a second, I had him enveloped in my arms, our mouths locked together, our bodies pressed against one another. I loved the feel of his hands on my bare back, and through the thin Speedo, I felt Zander's cock, as hard as steel in his sweats. He ground his hips into me and moaned low.

The sound sent an electric current through me. I found the zipper on his warmup jacket and yanked it down. I slipped my hand under the hem of his exposed t-shirt and lifted, as Zander strove to get out of his jacket while holding our kiss.

I just wanted to feel his skin on mine again. I got my wish a moment later. God, how I love Zander's body, the way it responds to my touch, the way it slides under my fingers. Our tongues worked over each other's mouths, each hungry for the other, each wrestling for dominance.

Eventually, I broke the kiss, slid my lips down to Zander's neck, and sucked there, gently. He arched his head back and groaned. I took that moment to push him gently back down onto his bed. I followed Zander down and lay on top of him, kissing and grinding into him. I followed him again when he scooted up farther toward the pillows so he could stretch out; I started kissing his neck, his shoulders, and down his gorgeous chest. He gasped happily when I licked his nipple; he liked that and made a little noise of astonishment. I did it again, and Zander arched into me. I felt his hips thrust up under me.

I knew in that moment that I was going to make Zander cum. We'd be together for it. It would be real, not fantasy. But not yet. Zander has given me so much – it's not too much to say that he's given me my life back. There was something that I could give him, and I was determined to do it.

I kissed and licked my way down the center of Zander's abs, down the thin trail of hairs leading down from his navel. My fingers found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. No hesitation. I pulled, and they slid off, along with his boxers. Instead of being hidden behind sleek black Speedos, Zander's beautiful cock lay exposed to my view. Like mine, his was cut, but his was longer, and somehow more elegant. It pulsed a little. Some observant part of my brain registered that he shaved down there. And it occurred to me then, ridiculously, that I'd never seen Zander naked.

Although I'd only done this once before, I knew exactly what to do. Pausing only another moment to appreciate Zander’s perfect dick, I leaned down and kissed the head, gently, then licked the underside of Zander's shaft. I heard him exhale sharply, but I didn't stop. Grasping him at his base, I licked him again, long and slow, like an ice cream cone. Zander whimpered softly. Where Roger had tasted bitter and funky, Zander tasted clean and almost sweet. He smelled, warm, faintly musky--like himself. Encouraged, I wrapped my lips around his tip and slowly sank Zander's cock into my mouth, just past his crown. I heard Zander groan again. I suckled on him gently, taking Zander in a little deeper moment by moment.

I felt Zander's fingers in my hair, not pulling, just gently playing there. I tried to work Zander further into my mouth, sucking, and sweeping my tongue along the sensitive spot I discovered below his crown. I got a few inches down before I thought I might gag. Slowly, I pulled off, prolonging the contact and suction as long as I could until just the tip was in my mouth. Then I sank down on him again.

"Jesus, Andy," I heard Zander groan, "you're gonna kill me, it feels so good."

I pulled off of him completely. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked, panting a little myself. I didn't want to stop, but if that's what Zander wanted, I would.

"God, no," he breathed.

And then I swallowed him down again. I tried bobbing up and down on him, then sliding slowly down his rod, trying to get as much of him as deep into my mouth and throat as I could. Then back to short strokes up near the top, followed by another, deeper plunge.

Zander kept up an almost constant stream of barely audible whimpers, groans, and little cries of what I hoped were enjoyment. I knew I was enjoying it. I loved offering this to Zander.

This was nothing like the face fucking Roger had done to me in the back of his truck. Where Roger had been all about dominance and control, Zander let me explore and revel in what I was doing. Where Roger had made sure he could hurt me, Zander gently encouraged me to keep going. And unlike the fear I experienced with Roger, I was lost in the feel of Zander's dick in my mouth, loving the sensation of its combination of softness and steel. And I loved knowing that what I did made Zander squirm and whine with pleasure. It made me feel a kind of power that I’d never felt before. I was giving Zander what I could – and if he wanted all of me, well, I'd try to let him have that, too.

And the thing was, it wasn't as if I wasn't feeling good, myself. I sensed my own dick, hard and straining against the silky fabric of the Speedo. Trapped between my belly and the smooth little bathing suit, it was getting a lot of fantastic friction.

I alternated lapping up and down Zander’s cock with trying to take him in as deeply as I could. Encouraged by his sounds of appreciation, I concentrated on getting lots of suction and on using my tongue to rub him where I would have wanted it. I took another deep dive down Zander, working my tongue lovingly along his length, and began to pull up. Suddenly, I felt Zander swell, and the fingers in my hair squeezed harder. Zander stiffened and let out a strangled, stifled cry.

He came; God, he came. The first spurt jetted into the back of my throat, and there followed what felt like a torrent of cum. I tried swallowing, but I couldn't handle it all, and in a couple of seconds I had a little semen dripping from the corners of my mouth.

Not that I cared. Zander tastes way better than Roger, sweeter and somehow more wholesome. I concentrated on keeping my mouth firmly planted on Zander’s cock, sucking down as much as he could give me, long after his strong pulses had been reduced to little twitches.

I felt Zander’s hands tighten on my head. “Enough…too much…sensitive,” he panted, trying to regain control of his lungs.

Then I lifted off and did my best to clean Zander up with my tongue, not wanting a drop of his cum to remain behind. I moved up to snuggle beside him on the pillow and gave him a long, deep kiss.

“Is that what I taste like?” Zander asked when I finally released his lips from mine.

I nodded. “Tastes really good. To me, anyway.” I trailed my hand across his chest.

“What made you do that?” Zander asked softly.

“I wanted to. I love you Zander, and…and I wanted to show you. And besides, you feel incredible,” I said quietly.

“You know, I’ve wanted to do just what you did…for you, for so long,” Zander said, hesitating over his words, “but I was afraid to, you know?”

Zander? Afraid? I had trouble with that concept. I shook my head.

He turned his head to mine and kissed me gently. “I didn’t want to do anything that would cause…bad memories…to come back,” he clarified.

“You've given me lots of good ones now,” I smiled back at him.

“Let me give you another,” Zander said, turning his body to face mine and kissing me. He reached his hand down between us to cover my still firm erection. He rubbed me gently through the fabric.

I closed my eyes and pushed back against his palm. I was fully hard, fully ready almost instantly. Now it was my turn to whimper, as I buried my head in Zander’s shoulder. I felt Zander tug on the tiny swimsuit, freeing my cock. His hand brushed its length, gently, delicately.

I quivered.

“So beautiful,” Zander murmured into my ear. “So very, very, beautiful.” He wrapped his fingers around me and jacked my cock lovingly and carefully. He planted little kisses on my face and nibbled on my ear. But he didn’t stop stroking me.

Zander didn’t get his mouth on my cock; he never got the chance. I was so ready, so hard, so keyed up, that all he had to do was stroke me and tell me he loved me. In what felt like milliseconds, I shot off between us, lost in glorious pleasure.

It was some moments before I came down from it. Zander hadn’t let go of me; in fact, he stroked me idly, still. I opened my eyes, and Zander kissed me.

“You’re incredibly beautiful when you cum, you know that?” Zander broke the silence.

I blushed. “I got us all wet and sticky, that's what,” I said.

Zander ran a finger up my chest, catching some of my spilled seed. He tasted it. “Mmmm. Andy flavor.” He kissed me again.

We lay there for a while, basking in each other’s touch and feel. But finally, Zander yawned. It really had been a long day.

“Come on,” I said gently, “let’s get cleaned up and dressed.”

“Do we have to?” Zander complained sleepily “I could stay like this all night.” He tried to snuggle into me. Really, it was very tempting.

“Yeah, but what will Coach say if we show up to the pool all cummy in the morning?” I giggled softly.

“Damn, didn’t think of that,” yawned Zander.

We rolled out of bed and cleaned each other up in the bathroom. Why had I avoided being naked with Zander all this time? It just felt…perfectly natural, seeing him, gloriously nude. I lingered longer than Zander, so I found him adding extra blankets to the bed.

“Get in. No clothes,” he said with a tired smile.

“Is that a good idea? What if your mother…”

“I don’t care,” Zander said flatly. “I want to sleep with you naked. Don’t worry,” he added, “you’ll be safe with me.”

I already knew that. The question would be whether he would be safe from me, I thought. Miraculously, we fell asleep quickly, me spooned up behind Zander, flesh to flesh, warmth to warmth, our breathing in synch, our bodies perfectly molded together.