4/20/2015

Story Orgy Present: Like A Wolf Conclusion NSFW #mmromance #storyorgy #blogstory




Welcome back and good morning all! 
Today- I've kind of lumped all the last few weeks into one long ... and final post. This is it... the nsfw conclusion to Like A Wolf. 

Next week, I'm starting a new story- based on a prompt suggested by Cheri Taylor 1)Ability to magically manifest a giant pile of marshmallows 2) accidentally setting one's car on fire (on the inside) 3) a vegetable peeler. 

Look for Superhero stories from all of the Story Orgy members in the coming months! 


Like A Wolf
FINALE 



Chapter Twelve
"I didn't say anything."

“I didn’t say anything.”  Robert stood in the middle of Hank’s kitchen, cell phone to his ear. Two hours earlier, unable to focus on work, his heart filled with hope and dreams once more, he’d left Bella to close up the diner and stopped by an organic grocer’s on his way to Hank’s place.
“Which is a nice change from saying too much, don’t you think?” Grandmere chided gently. Robbie could picture her, sitting up in her arm chair, fine spun white silver hair rolled in spongy pink curlers, thin shoulders draped in one of the lacy knit robes she favored. In the background the television  mumbled gently, probably some game show or soap.
Robert shrugged. Where the idea of surprising Hank with dinner had come from, he couldn’t really say, just that it was rooted in Hank’s oft repeated insistence in the past that Robert cook for him. “I don’t know, Grandmere. I just felt like… it was time to seize the day. The time was right.”
“That’s excellent, Robbie. How’s it going? What are you making?”
“Meatloaf, mac and cheese, roasted vegetables… The food I love.” For the man I love.
He bent and peered through the oven window. The casserole was bubbling at the edges, golden on top. “Perfect.”
“Well, I’m not one to offer unsolicited advice, but I can tell you from experience, regrets are by far harder to live with. Embarrassment fades. Regret just gets stronger.” Grandmere had always been able to see clearly and that was one reason that he’d always sought her out in times of trouble.
“I think he really likes me, Grandmere, but something… it’s like he remembers that he doesn’t want to like someone… love someone.”
“Oh honey. The man can’t commit to a standard menu at his restaurant, you can’t expect him to just fall in love and accept eating a single meal for the rest of his life.”
“Ha!” Laughter barked. Leave it to grandmere to cut to the heart of the matter. “I have to go, grandmere. My biscuits are ready and I need to put the brownies in for dessert. I love you.”
He rang off and set the phone down on the marble counter. Headlights swept the front windows. He was just in time.
The rattle of the front door gave him a moment of pause… the last time he’d been here and heard that noise, it had been Hank’s ex-lover who’d come through that door. “It’s all right.” He told the casserole as he set it on the table in the breakfast nook, which has struck him as a more intimate dining space that the glass topped table and stark, uncomfortable looking chairs in the dining room.
“Yes, it is.” Hank rumbled, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning forward to gust hot air over Robbie’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “I never expected you to already be here. But I’m very glad to find you.”
“The key was… still under the gnome.” His breath caught, senses stirring. “Welcome home.”
“I … do … like… the sound … of that.” Hank punctuated each word with a caress, a kiss, the brush of his lips over sensitive skin. “What do I smell?”
Robby whirled, covered Hank’s eyes playfully with one hand. “ You should be able to tell…”
Hank sniffed dramatically. “Cheese… sharp, onion...mmm.” He pushed Robbie’s hand away. “That’s about all that’s making its way through the scent of brownies… God. That alone is …”
Welcome home? Fucking idiot. Like it was his place, as an invader… to welcome the homeowner? Could he have said anything more stupid? Confidence draining quickly, Robbie ducked away from Hank’s touch. “I’m sorry. That was presumptuous…”
“You can presume any time you like with me.” Hank glanced over the table, smiling at the array of food.  “This looks terrific. Exactly what I need after a night like this.”
Turning back to the oven, Robbie floundered once more for the words he wanted to say. “You’re a commitment phobe, huh?”
“Whoa. What brings that up?”
He could feel the warmth of Hank’s body behind him… lost the thread of thought, but kept the feeling. Feeling… That’s what this was about. “Feelings. Grandmere said--”
A bark of laughter escaped Hank, who backed away from him. “You discussed me with your grandmother?”
“I discussed my feelings with my grandmother, yes.”
“That’s just it…” Hank bit his lip and looked at the floor for a long moment.
As he waited, Robbie’s excitement dulled, and he twisted his hands nervously. “What?” He finally asked when it seemed that Hank wasn’t going to continue.
“You can’t possibly know how you feel. You aren’t old enough to know… to have your heart broken.”
Anger flashed to life, and Robbie took a step forward. “I don’t know what heartbreak is? Why would you say that? I have been heart-broken. The first time, I was four. I had a very special toy- a stuffed bunny from one of those build it yourself toy stores. Larry had blue jeans and a red and white striped shirt, and when you pressed his chest he said “I love you”. My first heart break was when Larry got left behind in a hotel room in Columbus, when my family was on vacation. I cried for weeks. The second time, I was ten and I realized that the boy I liked was using me to get close to my best friend Chrissy. When I was sixteen, Chrissy broke my heart again, when I told her I was gay and she dropped me like yesterday’s fish.”
He drew in a steadying breath and dashed tears he hadn’t realized were falling off his cheeks. “The last time was just a few weeks ago… When I woke up in your bed and you made it clear that you had no use for me once we’d … Anyway. My heart has been broken. But I am resilient, and determined, and …” Willing to humiliate myself for another chance at proving to you that I am worth it.
Hank exploded into motion, eyes flashing, hands waving expressively. “And we don’t even know each other! You can’t love me. You don’t know me. I don’t know you…”
Robbie stilled, but Hank’s actions… they shouted to him. “We don’t have to know each other. My soul knows yours… recognized something in you that first night at your restaurant, something that I would love to spend the next fifty years discovering.”
“I don’t know anything important about you.”
Crowding in close, Robbie leaned into Hank hard,  “You know everything important. Think about it. The food I cook- it tells you everything you need to know.”
“Comfort food. The food of love, and home and family.” Hank’s eyes shone. “You always make me the most amazing versions of the foods we grew up loving.”
“And your food is like the greatest adventure I’ve ever known. You are the greatest adventure.” He stilled Hank’s protest with a finger on his lips. “No. I won’t say it tonight, but we both know its there, and when you’re comfortable with it, we can put it all into words. For now, I have brownies to get out of the oven and a meal to get on the table.”
Hank kissed the tip of his finger, then pulled his hand away. “Okay. You’re staying the night, right?”
“My bag is in your room. You’re sure there won’t be any exes wandering in expecting shelter?” He couldn’t resist teasing.
***
Their lips met and clung… moist and warm, like the center of a pan of brownies, and Hank fancied he could still taste the rich chocolate of Robbie’s dessert on his tongue. He could think of a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this… and only one reason why he should.
“I want you so badly.” He murmured into Red’s mouth, that one over-riding reason that found him in bed once more with a man he was finally beginning to believe… to hope… might be his future. I want to love you. I want you to love me.
Red brushed a kiss along his jaw, whispered along his skin in a delicate caress of breath and voice, “Then have me.”
“Ahhh,” Hank groaned, burying his face in the fragrant hollow of Red’s shoulder, sucking in a calming breath while he shuddered. “Are you… sure?” They hadn’t last time, and he didn’t want to force penetrative intercourse… God how clinical. “We don’t have to, if you don’t like it.” But his cock was hard as brick, and leaking warm sticky fluid as he ground helplessly against Red’s thigh. Just the thought of burying himself in tight, hot flesh… he shuddered again.
“Like it?” Red’s soft laughter tickled Hank’s temple. “I’ve been dreaming about it. I need to feel you inside me. When I masturbate I imagine it… When I come, I crave it.”
“Fuck.” He reached down, grabbed a handful of fleshy buttock and squeezed. “I want that too. Roll over…”
In seconds they were rearranged, Red on his knees, peering back over his shoulder, blue eyes hot and avide as he watched Hank pouring lube on his fingers. Hank reached forward, one slick finger to trace the puckered skin of Red’s asshole. His mouth went dry as the little hole constricted, nipping at the tip of his finger. He could imagine that tight caress, squeezing his cock. Gritting his teeth, holding back his desire to just plunge ahead and sink into Red, he rubbed the pucker with the tip of his finger, massaging the muscle until it relaxed a bit, and the tip slipped in.
Red constricted, the ring of muscle hugging Hank’s finger tightly, the loosening. “Oh yes… Hank.” Red sighed, wiggling. The action aided Hank’s movements, sinking his finger deeper.
Overpowered by the demands of his body, Hank fought for control enough to not rush. Pushing his finger in and out, then adding a second finger… He watched Red’s writhing, listening to his moans, Hank’s heart swelled, the words he’d fought back --the emotion he’d hidden from since meeting Red-- burst out. “I love you.”
In the aftermath of that confession he ducked his head in close and watched his hands intently, heart thumping wildly. Would Red answer in kind, even though he’d said downstairs that he wouldn’t say it yet?
Had he even heard, over the rush of blood and the thump of lust… or had Hank’s soul bearing gone astray? He didn’t know which to hope for.
“Now… Now, please, Hank.”
Pausing, Hank withdrew his fingers from their warm, moist, haven, and clutched at Red’s buttocks. The voice in his head… the one who’d been ruling his actions since he and Red had met, that asshole was trying to make himself be heard--- but two voices that had long been silent, hushed by practicality and denial, drowned it out.
His heart and soul…
They didn’t care of Red had heard him or not, they were relieved to have a voice at last. I love this man. I love Red.
His fingers shook as he ripped open a condom package and rolled the latex down his length. AS he pressed his cock to the lubed, stretched opening, he knew it didn’t matter if Red had heard his declaration or not. He’d say it again and again, until that voice of self-preservation… the cowardly voice he’d been calling common sense was silenced for good.
He sank forward, pressing, leaning in hard until the ring of muscle gave and his cock glided forward, ably abetted by Red’s wiggles and encouraged by his groans. Keeping one hand on Red’s hip, he slid the other up his spine, curled it around his shoulder.
Red fell down, pressing his chest to the mattress, head turned on the pillow. The slightly different angle let Hank slide in faster.  He groaned, feeling the delicious constriction, coming to a halt as his balls slapped against Red’s.
“So hot and tight.”  Hank grunted, forcing the words past a lump in his throat. “So tight.  Red, you're amazing.” 
Red whimpered. licking his lips. His eyelids slid down to half-mast, one hand wiggled underneath, and Hank knew he was reaching for his cock. He pulled out slowly, reveling in sensation and emotion.  After his failed relationship with Hunter, he hadn’t expected to feel this intimate connection again, to be honest, hadn’t wanted to feel it.  He rocked his hips, urging Red to move with him.
 “Ahhh!”  Red gasped as Hank withdrew, catching his head on the tight rim before pushing back in in a rush of movement.  “Again!”  He moaned when Hank pulled out again.  “Harder.”
“Fuck.”  Hank shifted, bracing his knees further apart, seeking leverage.
“Ahhh!”  Red moaned again, the sexy sound spurring Hank on. He tightened his grip on  Red's hip and held him steady for a good pounding.
“Agh.” His breath caught, his lungs burned. “Mmm.” Words were lost in a hum of pure sensation and emotion as Red's tight ass squeezed him and made it nearly impossible to maintain any semblance of control. Red’s breath came rapid and harsh… his body shook strained, muscles tight and skin flushed.
Hank’s thighs burned, his thrusts grew frantic, and erratic. He threw back his head, crying out. “Robbie! Oh god, Robbie, it’s so…” His voice trailed into heavy breaths.
Red’s sweet, soft body writhed deliciously, his fingers clutched desperately at the bedding. 
“My Robbie… Mine.” Hank whispered between pants, struggling not to come, to hold out until Red had achieved his orgasm.  Sweat and sex … odors mingled in a cloying perfume… His nostrils flared, blood pounded. Hank’s vision blurred, his head spun. His hips jerked, fire arced from cock to every extremity, pulsing waves of unbearable bliss.
“Yours.” Robbie agreed, eyes opening wide, shining with a luminescent joy that snapped
 “Mine.” Leaning forward, he opened his mouth on the soft skin of Red’s shoulder… freckled, sweet… oh so beautiful, and bit down sharply.
“Oh, yeah!”  Red spasming around Hank’s cock, drenching the air with the scent of his semen as he came. 
“Yes! Yes!” Hank punctuated each exclamation with a thrust, loving the way Red constricted around him, practically milking the seed from his cock. Having achieved Red’s release, he let loose his control, and his whole being tingled, buzzing on the edge of orgasm himself. His whole being had one purpose, to come… to ease the need that rode him. Once… twice… thrice he bore the rapid the quivering spasms until he froze… buried deep in the wet heat of Red’s body… and he shook with the power of his orgasm. He flooded the condom in four bursts of cum, before shrinking and slipping from Red’s ass to roll to his side.
His breath slowly returned to normal, sweat drying on his skin. Hank reached out a hand palm up… And Red took it. They lay in silence, soaking in the scent and a comfortable lassitude of post sexual bliss.
“I love you, too.” Red finally spoke, his voice steady and strong, no doubt lurking.
Hank smiled into the gathering darkness and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. “Shh. Sleep.”



Chapter Thirteen
He hated surprises.

“Couldn’t say its been an oasis of sunshine and flowers.” Hank admitted, slapping down a basket of beautiful carrots on the counter top. He and Bree were unloading the fruits of a mornign spent at the farmer’s market. “B--”
“Hank Wolf!” Bree cut him off, eye flashing angrily as she dumped her own basket of carrots into the sink and turned on the faucet, dousing them with water.
Hank turned inquiring eyes on his sous chef. He couldn’t help smiling when he noticed the tell tale stain of baby vomit on the shoulder of her chef’s coat. “What?”
“That guy loves you…” She muttered under her breath then started shoving him, hard palms smacking him in the chest with brutal strength.
“Ouch! Bree… stop that!” He finally grabbed her hands in his and squeezed, forcing them down. “What are you doing?”
“Me? I’m not doing a damn thing. You’re the one who’s ruining the rest of your life. That’s it.” She yanked her hands back and shook her head. “I’ll finish here. You get your ass over to The Lunch Basket and apologize.”
“No.” He shook his head, then left her standing by the sink with a basket of carrots. “There’s still another eighteen crates out here to bring in and get cleaned up. I don’t have time for a trip to The Lunch Basket today.”
“I’ll deal with the produce.” Bree pushed past him in the doorway.  “You need to go talk to Robbie.”
“No, I don’t. Why do I? I can talk to him tonight.”
Bree dropped a crate of asparagus she’d just pulled off the truck bed and faced him, arms akimbo. “Tonight will be too late. Ruby says… Manny Dyer called… He wants Robbie…”
A cold ball formed in the pit of his stomach. “Bree… make sense. The man couldn’t talk about anything but his kids while they were here for dinner. What would he want Robbie for? He’s obviously happily paired off.” The ball exploded, sharp shards of ice pricking his heart and soul. Manny Dyer… restaurateur. It was obvious what he wanted wasn’t it? And it wasn’t Robbie… at least not physically. It was Robbie’s concept. Classic comfort food with a delicious modern twist, as a restaurant franchise it made a lot more sense than Hungry’s spontaneous concept did.
How did he feel about that?
Hank considered carefully. Was this icy feeling professional jealousy? Recognition of his genius as a chef and an innovator would have been nice… but as Bree had said, it wasn’t a concept for a restaurant that could grow. There was only one Hank Wolf, and he couldn’t clone himself to create and cook in different cities… Nor could he “train” someone to do things his way… So.. No. He’d always recognized the limitations of his chosen venue. Hungry was his… and it wouldn’t ever be more than this one location where he could prepare every item himself.
He realized Bree was still speaking and shook off his thoughts.
“--called a few days ago and said he was going to get in touch with Robbie about developing The Lunch Basket into a franchise.”
“That’s great!” Hank exclaimed involuntarily. Then his eyes narrowed. “Robbie never said anything about this.” HIs overactive imagination started doing its thing. Maybe Robbie hadn't said anything… because… Why? Because he was going to be moving to New YOrk and leaving Hank behind? “This is ridiculous.” He grabbed another basket of carrots, stacked it on top of a box of asparagus, and laboriously lugged the two into the kitchen muttering under his breath. “paranoid.”
“So whatever fight you’ve had with Robbie--”
Damn. Bree was still talking… Hank slammed his burden onto the floor by the fridge and whirled. “Fight with Robbie? I have not had a fight with Robbie!” He gritted his teeth and continued grimly. “But we’re about to have a real knock down drag out if I find out he’s ignoring this offer from Manny Dyer because of me.”
Bree stopped, eyes widening. “You didn’t? But you said…”
“I said it hasn’t been an oasis of sunshine. And it hasn’t. I still get a little panicky and self protective… Red is at times a little too… understanding. ***But I’m not running… and he’s not going to give up a chance at a chef-stardom because of me.” He kicked the crates and ripped off his apron. Grinding his teeth, he strode to the back door. Eleven more crates to unload. “Are you going to lend me a hand here or just stand around talking?”
“I’m helping, I’m helping!” Bree scurried past him, grabbed another box and headed back to the kitchen. “Geeze… What’s the rush?”
“The rush...” He huffed, a sharp pain blossoming in his back as he manhandled two more crates off the truck. “Is that I need to get over to The Lunch Basket and talk to Red.”
“Boss…” Bree panted, catching his hurry, “I hope you’re not going to go over there to pick a fight with him because of what I said, because that’s not why I told you.”
“Oh I most definitely am.” He continued working full speed to get all the produce out of the truck bed, ignoring Bree’s increasingly frantic pleas as they turned to an angry diatribe. When the last box was sitting on the restaurant floor, he put up a hand, halting her tumbling speech. “I want the carrots cleaned up and roasted, the asparagus blanched, and get Hans to scale the fish. I should be back in plenty of time to pick things up from there.”
“I’m going to call him.” Bree announced defiantly.
“If you do, you’re fired.” Hank glared at her, “And then how’s Reuben going to go to college?”
“That’s low… so low.”
“Something you should learn Bree. Don’t stick your nose in other people’s relationships. Unless you want me talking to Ruby behind your back?” On that parting shot, he slammed the back door to the kitchen behind him and jumped in the truck.
***
He hated surprises. Robbie wiped his hands on his apron and stared at his lover. “What?”
“The offer from Manny Dyer. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“What’s there to tell?” He shook his head in confusion, met his assistant’s eyes over Hank’s shoulder and jerked his head to the left, sending the man to the ovens to take out the night’s casseroles. “He’s asked for a meeting when he comes to town next month.”
“You don’t think that’s a big deal?” Hanks lips were white, his brown crinkled. He probably gave off more heat at this moment than the ovens were. “This is your future we’re talking about. Manny Dyer is Midas. With his backing The Lunch Basket will be a phenomenal success. Your concepts… your food will be in every strip mall in the country.”
Scowling, Robbie glanced around the kitchen. “Can we not discuss this in the kitchen? Come to my office.” Without waiting to see if Hank followed, he strode to the door and held it open. To his relief, Hank passed him, a little close, a lot distracting.
Hank stalked to the far end of the little space, and stood framed by the chalkboard Robbie used to write out his staff assignments. “Well? How can you be so blase… so… This is your future!” He growled, hands slashing at the air.
Patiently, Robbie closed the door, though it was futile at this point to expect that no one would hear. “It’s not that big a deal.” He decided that Hank needed reassurance, and so crowded right p to his lover, bringing their bodies into close contact. “Let’s start this conversation over, shall we?”
Robbie rose on his tiptoes and brushed a kiss over Hank’s tight jaw, feeling it work beneath his lips. He dragged his mouth over bristly stubble until his lips touched Hank’s, then lingered, caressing softly. until some of the tension left Hank’s body and he kissed back. His breath came easier, and the wariness he’d felt since Hank stalked through the doors faded. “Hello my love. You’ll never guess what happened after you left this morning.”
“Red!” Hank jerked his head away, “Oh fine. Hello. What happened?”
“Manny Dyer called. He liked the food he ate here so much, he’s invited me to meet with him and his partner… Pat Bonucci … to consult on menu planning for a new fine dining concept restaurant they’re opening in Chicago next year.”
“Menu consultation?” Hank’s hands clutched at Robbie’s waist. “That’s all? The man is a complete idiot. You should have absolutely nothing to do with him.”
Robbie chuckled softly. His heart warmed at the way Hank’s anger turned to concern and protection. Robbie kissed him again, leaned into the sturdy bulk. “I told him I’d be happy to meet with them.” The excitement he felt had nothing to do with the prospective meeting with culinary celebrities, or even having his recipes on a fine dining menu. No. His feelings were all about Hank’s sudden change in temper, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “I love you too, you know.”
“Too? I didn’t say… Don’t try to change the subject.” 
“I’m not. I see through this bluster, you know. I know you didn’t come running over here because you thought Manny Dyer was offering me a golden future.”
“No?”
“No. You needed to hear me say I loved you… That I wasn’t leaving you for the life of a celebrity chef. It wouldn’t matter what Manny Dyer wanted… what he offered. Nothing compares to the way I feel about you. You’re the gold at the end of my rainbow... “ He uttered the corny words, knowing they’d make Hank laugh.
He was right.
Hank chuckled warmly, his hands wandered, and Robbie stored away the moment as a memory to be treasured in later years. 



THE END 

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1 comment:

  1. Great ending! Good to finally get Red and Hank's wrap up. Now they need to have another story where they try to run a restaurant together and raise an adopted child. LOL!

    ReplyDelete

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To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955