Merry Christmas, Doctor Carter

Making Up... Sort Of

Clothes were strewn across the bedroom floor. The sheets smelled of sweat and cologne. Two lovers could be heard panting underneath them until one finally came up for air. It was Dennis Gant.

Eyes wide, appearing more than a little manic, he stared up at the ceiling. "What just happened?" he wondered, voice slightly hoarse.

Then another body slipped out from under, their long fingers gripping the sheets and pulling them off; John caressed Dennis' slick, sweaty neck. "Pretty sure I just blew you," he replied in a winded voice.

"Oh, that's what that was," Dennis tracked the man's suggestive gaze, whose eyebrows tugged up briefly before he dipped back under. "I thought–" The sensation of his tongue on his skin made him draw a sharp inhale. "Ahhh-haa, hey! Not now. I ha-ahhh–" The sensation of being sucked and licked quickly changed his mind. Work? What work? Dennis then gripped on to the bed's headboard with both hands and braced himself. On his shaky exhalation, he said, "I see it's my turn again."

It wasn't long before he heard a muffled gag and coughing.

"Whoa, you alright? You don't have to go all the way. I haven't even had a go yet."

John popped out of the covers once again and wiped the drool from his lips with the back of his hand. "I wanted to," A playful grin crept in while John sucked in his lower lip and bit down lightly. As he sat up, he scooted closer to him. "It's okay. You don't have to return the favour."

"Actually, I kinda do. It kinda intimidates me, though. I forgot you were so..."

"Big?" John ventured a guess.

"Long."

"What's the difference?"

Dennis chuckled as his eyes trailed down from John's bare, glistening chest to his midriff, deep in thought. He felt conflicted, scared, out of place. Being happy with someone and making them feel even more so was his dream, and while this was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever done, it left him feeling awkward. He'd never been more vulnerable to John before, so attached to him, so entirely at his mercy. That shock of total devotion and enjoyment made him dread what would happen if it became a deep love with complete loyalty and faithfulness. He wasn't sure he could do it again.

It all led him to ask one question: "What are we doing?"

"Uh," Befuddled, John glanced around the room, his confused stare eventually landing back on Dennis. "I believe it's called, 'pillow talk.'"

"No, I mean us. If there even is an us?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that, too," After running his lanky fingers through his now dirty hair, he rubbed the back of his neck, then let his hand drop to the blankets. "First, we were arguing and then the next thing–"

"We're going down on each other."

"Well, I went down," John said, smirking. "But yeah, I mean, I don't– I know how I feel, but you? What are you thinking?"

The truth was he had a lot of things going on in his head; the many what-ifs, whether they were doing this out of frustration or if this was something real. He wanted real, there was no denying it, but not too quickly. In the end, Dennis decided it was time for a long chat. "I'm thinking... we need a few drinks for this conversation."

That only made John's stomach turn even further. He already had an idea of how this would go. Not well. Sitting there, naked in more ways than one, and watching an equally disrobed Dennis walk across from the bedroom to the kitchen, he could feel his heartbeat quickening. Not just from uncertainty and anxiety; from how perfectly built he was.