With This Ring

Chapter 3

Waiting had been Matt’s idea, a way to make their anniversary special, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t jonesing for a piece of his man. The last time they’d made love had been the evening of Christmas Eve; true, it’d been only one week, but Matt had never thought he’d live through those seven long days. They’d still slept together, nude bodies twined together in the bed they shared, and they’d showered together, lathering each other until they were soapy and hard, but anything more than flirtatious teasing had been off limits.

“You came up with this,” Vic reminded him every time he’d tried to take a casual kiss too far. “You said you wanted to wait.”

“I hate waiting.” His whole body yearned for Vic’s, to the point where just hearing his lover’s voice on the phone gave him an erection. “I want you now.”

But December 31st rolled around soon enough, and though every fiber of Matt’s being sizzled at the thought of celebratory s*x to ring in the new year, a small part of his mind couldn’t stop dwelling on Jordan and that damn tabloid article. All throughout dinner he brooded, giving Vic a wan smile whenever his lover tried to engage his interest.

When they finished eating, he retreated to the living room and flipped through the channels on the TV, distracted, as Vic cleaned up the dishes. Matt was so lost in his own moody thoughts that he didn’t hear the water cut off in the kitchen sink, nor the cork pop when Vic opened the first bottle of wine.

He glanced up only as his lover approached, fluted glasses in one hand, a bottle of Chardonnay in the other. With a smoldering gaze, Vic asked, “You ready for the new year?”

“If it means getting drunk and getting laid,” Matt said with a laugh as he took one of the glasses from Vic, “I’m so there.”

Matt liked alcohol simply because it made him horny. He suspected Vic liked it for the same reason. His lover poured two generous glasses of the white wine, then dimmed the lamp at the end of the couch before sinking down beside Matt. The bottle sat on the coffee table before them, and the moment Vic got himself situated, Matt cuddled up against him. He clinked their glasses together in a quick toast as Vic draped an arm across his shoulders. “Here’s to us.”

While Matt drank, Vic kissed his forehead. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice gruff with emotion.

The words were almost lost in Matt’s hair, but he heard them in his mind, in his heart. Without lowering his glass, he mentally replied, ::Oh, Vic. I love you, too.::