He sighed.
And he kept peeing.
“How much did you drink?”
Dog finally put his leg down, walked the six inches to the next plant and peed again.
A couple people carrying briefcases and dressed for business walked past. I leaned my hip against the wall and pretended not to notice the large yellow beast christening his third bush.
At least he waded into the ivy to do the rest.
Dog jumped back down on the sidewalk, looking proud of himself.
I turned.
“Excuse me.” A young woman with pink and blue hair stood with her fist propped on her waist. At the end of a pair of rhinestone leashes, furry peach-colored creatures with black button eyes.
Were they dogs?
One yapped as if answering the question.
“Did you hear me?” she said.
“Uh, no, sorry, still half asleep.”
“I said you have to clean that up.”
Dog woofed at me.
“Uh, I would but I don’t have any ba—”
She snapped a pink baggy covered in rainbow pawprints from the tiny capsule on one of the leashes and held it out.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She sauntered off with the twirling balls of fluff, bouncing more than walking.
And I climbed onto the raised flowerbed to take responsibility for Dog.
Dog watched me from the sidewalk.
“I think I’m gonna see if Morgan can teach you to clean up after yourself.” I hopped down. “I’m surprised he hasn’t.”
Dog snorted.
“He hasn’t, has he?”
He huffed.
“Of course not, why would he? We live on twenty acres.”
I searched for a doggy disposal unit, but there were none, so I dropped off Dog’s gift-wrapped deposit in a trashcan.
At least no one yelled at me for it.
Dog barked, took a few steps, barked again.
“Hold your horses, I’m coming.”
He led the way half-skipping, half-running as if he couldn’t wait to tell Morgan about his adventure in the city.
I made it back to our room. Dog pushed past me and ran into the bedroom. Morgan sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window.
“What happened to sleeping in?” I headed into the bathroom and washed my hands. “I took Dog out, so he should be good for a while.” I cut off the water and dried off on one of the towels. “I don’t suppose you’re up early because you’re making a grocery list?”
I stopped in the doorway.
Morgan’s wayward hand hovered by his temple. Dog sat on the floor in front of him, his head on Morgan’s knee.
“Morgan?”
I walked over.
Morgan stared past the window, the buildings, the city, the sky. And I’m pretty sure the world. His gaze darted back and forth, tracking invisible movements.
I sat beside him. Within minutes, the sun cut the horizon, throwing out orange daggers and bright yellow streaks across the building. His vacant gaze shifted to the light. I stared too but there was only the superficial beauty: how it skipped off windows, gave color to the dark, and spilled into the streets breathing in life.
Glowing strips crept across the floor, climbed the side of the bed, then broke over the edge. Morgan dipped the fingers of his free hand into the illuminated patches slicing it with his shadow. He turned his palm over, and it puddled against his skin, like something tangible.
At least to him.
I don’t know how long I sat there while he watched the patches of sunlight stretch out. Sometimes he’d tilt his head or furrow his brow, but his expression remained serene, his body relaxed.
But it was long enough that Dog moved to the floor and fell asleep.
Morgan put his hands in his lap and blinked a couple of times, almost as if it took concentrated effort.
He looked at me. “Good Morning, Grant.”
“Morning to you too.” I leaned over and kissed him.
“Have you ordered breakfast yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“When you do, no scorpions or oysters on the half-shell.”
I chuckled. “I was thinking more along the lines of French toast, eggs, bacon.”
“Are you going to rub it on your nipples?”
“What? No.”
Morgan smirked. “I read this book once where two guys had sex on a plate of bacon.”
“What the hell kind of books have you been reading at the library?”
“The really good kind.” He draped his arms over my shoulders and leaned closer. “You should try them sometime. Might give you some pointers.”
I sat up. “I need pointers?”
Morgan shrugged and leaned back on his elbows. He propped his heel on my thigh. I pressed my thumbs into the bottom of his feet and massaged the muscles. He groaned.
“See, this is way better than sex on bacon,” I said.
His smile was subtle. “How do you know, you ever had sex on bacon?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Then how do you know?”
I kissed his ankle, his calf, leaned forward and kissed his knee. “Because bacon has nothing on you.”
I left his leg draped over my shoulder and kissed his thigh.
“Sex on bacon, not with bacon. That would be…” Morgan shook his head. “Weird.”
“Well, I can promise you, making love to you is anything but weird.”
Morgan ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, you’re the one who put bacon grease on his nipples, that’s pretty weird.”
“It was one nipple, and it wasn’t on purpose.” I crawled over him. The necklace he’d made me dangled between us breaking apart the sunlight and tossing transparent confetti over the pillows.
Morgan caught the charm between his thumb and finger. He turned it back and forth, skipping the sun off the facets. I thought for a moment he’d gone away again, but then he lifted his head and caught my mouth, teasing me with small touches, tempting me with the tip of his tongue.
I exhaled and he inhaled.
What started as gentle transformed into a war, our tongues battling our teeth scraping together. A sting pinched my lip and copper flavored the kiss.
We broke apart panting, and a bit of crimson stained Morgan’s bottom lip. “Sit up.”
I pushed up on my elbows and he scooted into a sitting position against the headboard.
And I knew exactly what he was about to do.
Okay, fine, so he did train me.
“Hang on.” I stumbled out of bed, almost tripping over Dog who snored in a patch of sunlight. The small suitcase where we kept all the toiletries sat on the bathroom counter. I cursed myself for leaving it there.
Shaving cream, razors, soap, shampoo. I found it in the side pocket and hurried back to the bedroom only to freeze in place.
Morgan had both his knees beside his head, arms under his thighs, and cock in his mouth.
Fuck, I have no idea why seeing that hit every button I didn’t know I had, but I sure never got tired of it.
“You going to stand over there and watch or join in?” He licked the head.
I could have watched; wouldn’t have been the first time I’d jacked off to him sucking his own dick.
But I loved to help even more.
“Better enjoy this while you can?” He flicked his tongue over the tip in a blatant display.