Rogue Affair Read online

  But sometimes… He should be better. He hadn’t even said anything nice about dinner because he’d been so occupied fuming over the latest disgrace perpetrated by the administration. The food—even though it had probably been amazing because Sean was a genius in the kitchen—had just been fuel for his outrage. And he hadn’t told Sean it was a nice thought to send Brady a care package even though it was the kind of thoughtful thing he loved about Sean. He really ought to be less of a dick.

  So he scooted over the stretch of cool sheets between them until he was close enough to touch Sean. Sean who always lay on his same side, always had the same cock to his head as he scanned the screen of his computer, taking in the latest demands of everyone at school.

  At least he wasn’t pacing in their closet or downstairs, on the phone with some distraught student or other who he’d given his cell number to. Isaiah hated that Sean did that—gave away the few hours Sean had to himself. Partly it was selfish—he didn’t like his hours with Sean disrupted either—but more so it was that Sean needed space to breathe, to process, and if he was always tending to students, he wouldn’t have time to reset. It would be exhausting for anyone to be on all the time, but especially so for Sean who felt the weight of his responsibilities so heavily.

  He laid a hand on Sean’s hip, angled his head to kiss the column of Sean’s neck which looked particularly pale in the darkness, almost like a slice of moon.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for dinner, it was really good. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier. And it’s a nice idea to send Brady a package, I’m sure he’s feeling pretty low right now and he’d like to hear from us. I’ll email him tomorrow too. Let me know if you want me to pick anything up on my way home for the box, okay?”

  “Okay.” Sean’s quiet answer sounded unsure.

  Isaiah regretted having made him feel bad enough that an apology wasn’t good enough to draw him out. He wasn’t sure what else to say, though, so he didn’t say anything. Kissed Sean’s neck from the crest of his shoulder up to his ear, and sucked lightly at the lobe. He loved the taste of Sean’s skin. Loved how Sean’s flesh felt dragging over his tongue and in between his teeth. So he bit, anticipating the ragged gasp the sharp sting would drag out of Sean. He wasn’t disappointed. By that, or by the way Sean pressed his hips back against Isaiah’s now throbbing cock. Or how he closed his laptop, plunging them into darkness, and angled his neck so Isaiah could kiss him more.

  He accepted the invitation with gusto, hauling Sean hard against him and wrapping an arm around his husband’s throat—not to cut off air, but to keep Sean’s head at the angle that seemed to make him melt, make him pliable. Wrapped a leg around Sean’s upper thighs too to hold him still and enjoyed the plaintive whimper that resulted. And while Isaiah kissed and bit and nibbled at Sean’s neck, the sensitive skin behind his ear, he used his free hand to drag his blunt thumbnail over Sean’s flat nipples.

  When Sean squirmed and mewled, Isiah tightened his grip at his throat and plucked and pinched at Sean’s now raised nipples, which only served to make Sean more restless and noisy. That only made Isaiah’s dick throb all the harder. Grinding his cock into Sean’s ass, he teased his lover’s slim abdomen, circling the navel with a lazy finger before torturing the small nipples again.

  As much as Sean might protest—and he was with wordless moans and squeals and writhing—he didn’t say the word that would stop it all, so Isaiah kept on until he decided to give Sean a measure of relief. He shoved the front of Sean’s shorts down and grabbed his dick, pumped hard a few times in a way that made Sean cry out in harsh, clipped syllables. Running his thumb over the head of Sean’s cock, he was especially gratified by the slick drops that had leaked out and made it easier to tease his lover. Which he did. Used the drops of pre-come to massage the sensitive underside, and then ease a few more hard pumps of the shaft, making more choked off sounds spill from Sean’s throat.

  “What are you thinking about, Sean?”

  The words made it out of his mouth between bites and licks and kisses, open-mouthed hard sucks at a place on Sean’s shoulder that would be covered by a shirt at work tomorrow. Couldn’t have the kiddies seeing the hickeys he liked to leave on Sean’s skin.

  “Your cock.”

  Good answer. Isaiah pressed his hips to wedge said cock deeper between Sean’s cheeks. “What about it?”

  “Where I’d like it.”

  “And where’s that?”

  He could feel the shiver that ran through his trapped and tormented lover as the back of Sean’s ribcage expanded and contracted against Isaiah’s chest.

  “In my mouth.” Sean’s words were breathy and unsteady, followed by a hiccupping swallow. “And then in my ass.”

  Yes. That sounded like an excellent plan.

  He released Sean with a last tweak to a nipple and rolled him to his back before dragging the pillow under his head toward his shoulders so his head dropped back a bit. And then Isaiah was straddling Sean’s shoulders, his thick and heavy thighs dwarfing the man underneath him. Sean was glassy-eyed and open-mouthed, flush-cheeked and breathing hard. He was a pretty man, Isaiah’s husband. Delicate and masculine and god, his mouth was just…

  Isaiah gripped Sean’s jaw and forced his lips to part further—forced was a strong word for it, but they both liked to play this way. And then he leaned forward, bracing a hand against their headboard and angling his cock into Sean’s waiting mouth. The position was awkward and put strain on his knees, hips and back, but when his dick slid into Sean’s wet, hot, and eager mouth, it made the discomfort well worth it.

  At the eager noise Sean made while he swallowed Isaiah down, a gruff sound of satisfaction welled in Isaiah all the way up from his gut. God, yes, was Sean really goddamn good at giving head. The man might look like an over-sized choir boy, but deep down he was filthy as hell and had a sinfully talented mouth to prove it. Fuck.

  Isaiah rocked his hips to get more of his cock into Sean’s mouth and loved the slightly overwhelmed sound that came from below him, the sound of his lover having his mouth stuffed full of Isaiah’s dick. Slow gentle strokes in and out with Sean working his tongue around made Isaiah’s vision go spotty, and he let his force and speed increase until he was fucking Sean’s face and felt like he was about to blow. That winding tightness in his balls was coming up and he wouldn’t spill, not yet.

  He loved it when Sean swallowed his come. It made him feel as though Sean worshiped him and wanted anything and everything he could possibly give, but Sean had asked to be fucked and he wasn’t about to say no. It was the least he could do. Leave his husband who he’d slighted earlier a puddle of drowsy satisfaction by the time he was finished with him.

  Before he could go back on his promise, he pulled out. Was glad to see Sean’s head come up, his pink mouth still gaping open and chasing after another chance at Isaiah’s spit-slicked cock. Hungry, desperate, beautiful. He’d slake Sean’s thirst even though he’d failed earlier.

  Once his knees were under him, he crawled off Sean and flipped him over, grabbed him by the ass cheeks and kneaded them hard, digging his fingertips into Sean’s flesh and spreading him open to make Sean more conscious of what he was asking for. It wasn’t shame that reddened Sean’s face, but it still made him blush. To have to beg for Isaiah’s cock up his ass, and hell, Isaiah liked that too. Being so wanted and needed when he so often felt like Sean was the provider in the relationship. Not materially, but emotionally, physically. His husband was so generous with his praise, affection, and offhand caresses. It wasn’t Isaiah’s strong suit. But this…

  “Well, you’ve had your mouth stuffed full. What was the next thing you asked for? I’ve got a terrible short-term memory, you’ll have to remind me.”

  The thing about the short term was true, actually. If he didn’t put stuff into the calendar and notes app on his phone it all but didn’t exist, but he damn well remembered Sean had asked to get fucked. What kind of monster
would forget that?

  “I want…”

  Sean pressed his ass into Isaiah’s grasping hands, and in response, Isaiah dug in harder, squeezed tighter, pulled his cheeks further apart, making Sean choke on a gasp and thrash.

  “I want you to fuck me. I want your big fat cock up my ass. I want you to fill me up until you spill and I want to come with you still inside me.” It all came out in one big breath, muffled a bit because he was face down on the bed and clutching a pillow, but Isaiah heard every dirty word, every filthy plea.

  That could definitely be arranged.

  He reached over to the nightstand to take out the lube, and spread some over a finger that he slipped into Sean’s ass with no hesitation, no working in a fraction of an inch at a time. It didn’t take long before he was adding a second because his lover was ready and eager and wanted him. Sean wanted him.

  Before driving his cock inside of Sean, Isaiah straddled Sean’s slim strong thighs and raised his pale hips a bit. And then with no mercy, pressed his lubed up erection slowly and steadily into Sean’s hole. The tight grip around his dick was incredible and made his eyes roll back in his head. He loved this. Being inside Sean, feeling as though they were together, in sync, one.

  And they were; each moving to meet the other’s thrusts, their skin getting coated with the sweat of effort, and their sounds of pleasure making a symphony that soon reached a fever pitch. Which was how Isaiah felt: fevered. With his lust and love for this man beneath him. Before he came—which he would, and soon—he reached for Sean’s cock and stroked the silky hard flesh until Sean tightened all over, including the muscles contracting around Isaiah’s dick.

  “Go on, love, come for me.”

  “You first, I want to feel you first,” Sean panted. Isaiah could do that.

  He let go of the orgasm he’d been holding back and let his climax spurt into his husband, so much pouring into his husband. Not just the slick fluid, but feelings he couldn’t name and tension he couldn’t explain, it all spilled into Sean, and Sean took it all, just as he always did. It all left Isaiah with a force that made him collapse, his chest hitting Sean’s back.

  But he held himself up with one arm and jacked Sean’s cock until he felt the satisfying pulse of muscles milking his own buried-deep dick and the throb of Sean’s cock in his hand as Sean gave in, his release leaving in thick strands that Isaiah pictured as he gave a few last hard pulls, just the way Sean liked it, the last couple eased by the come that had leaked into his fist as Sean lost it.

  Both sated, they rolled to their sides to avoid the mess on the bed, and Isaiah reached for a towel to tidy himself after pulling out, and clean up Sean as best he could while Sean lay there, his chest heaving. Yes, Isaiah could fuck up pretty good and he’d do it again. And again. And yet again. Because for all the shit that his brain was pretty good with—formulas and memorizing tables and anticipating outcomes—it was less than fabulous at feelings, emotions, relationships and frequently failed to anticipate how Sean’s own brain chemistry might interact with his own. But this…this was the least he could do for the love of his life.

  3

  It had been a long day already. Kids coming into his office with the usual smattering of problems—grades, parents who either paid too much attention or not enough, boyfriends/girlfriends, no boyfriend/girlfriend, etc. They were important problems, and he tried to be empathetic and listen in a constructive way. There was an art to asking questions to help kids solve problems by themselves without making them feel like they were on their own. But it was something Sean was good at. Prided himself on being good at, actually, and one of the reasons they’d asked him to take over this position even though he didn’t have a degree for it.

  It was the same as it ever was, but Sean had found himself biting his tongue more than once because even though the problems were the same, the context wasn’t. Teenage angst felt overblown when there were actual problems in the world. Already marginalized people losing rights, people who had no right being in government being in charge. And how had they gotten there? Because selfish, bigoted people had voted them in. Now words that had been silenced or at least forced into whispers through years of hard work were being shouted from rooftops. Actual fucking Nazis marching around and people saying that “both sides had a point.”

  What the fuck?

  Sean took a vicious bite of his sandwich and tried not to choke on the prosciutto or mozzarella or arugula or figs. He hoped Isaiah was enjoying his at least, even though he couldn’t. Even if it was that distracted kind of enjoyment of having sustenance while his brain was occupied. Of being nurtured and provided for even when Sean couldn’t be with him. To have the sense that Sean had put not only various foodstuffs together but had done it because he loved Isaiah.

  As Sean was about to take another bite of his sandwich, a kid he didn’t see much of was hovering in his doorway. Normally if he was in the middle of lunch, he’d ask if a student could come back, but he never did that when a kid was as close to tears as this one was. He had to search his mind for the boy’s name because he’d seen him around but he was by no means a frequent flyer in Sean’s office.

  “Sorry, Mr. Maguire. I—”

  Sean shoved his sandwich aside, hoping that Isaiah was managing to eat its twin and not forgetting to like he sometimes did. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. Come on in, Miguel.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

  “Dude, I haven’t seen you in my office all year. You’ve got some chips to cash in. Come, take a seat.”

  Sean wiped his hands on his pants and took a drag from his coffee. He’d started a campaign a year ago to cut down on caffeine, but after the election, he’d said fuck it because he needed some goddamn pleasure in his life and coffee was a harmless vice as things went.

  Miguel’s jaw flexed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, but Sean raised his eyebrows and waved him in, and eventually the kid took a few steps, pulled out a chair and sat.

  “So what’s up?”

  “Is this, like, confidential?”

  Aw, crap. These were the hard conversations to handle. It was a dance to tell the kids the truth so they wouldn’t feel betrayed if Sean did end up having to disclose the information to someone above his paygrade, but also to get them to open up if they needed to. He took a deep breath, hoping Miguel wouldn’t walk out of here feeling worse and more alone than when he walked in.

  “The only reason I would tell anyone anything about what we talk about in here is if someone is being hurt. If you or someone else is in danger, then I need to report it. Otherwise, it doesn’t leave this room.”

  Miguel nodded, clearly weighing his options.

  Talk to me, please. Sean tried to keep his expression and his posture neutral, open. It was better when the kids came to him. He didn’t want Miguel to leave, but he understood why the kid might feel like it was the smartest choice. Sometimes he was tempted to say fuck the rules so he could at least give the kids someone to talk to, but if he did that and someone found out, he’d be out of a job and he’d convinced himself he was of more use there than not.

  “Okay.”

  Patience, patience. He could wait. He could and he would. Isaiah could tease him all he liked about being eager, but when it came to these kids, he’d be as patient as he needed to be. And at the end of the day, he trusted Isaiah to take those choices away from him, and give him some relief from having to be responsible and unflappable. So he sat.

  “My parents…they’re not citizens. They don’t have visas.”

  Ah. Right. He knew there were some students who were undocumented, or who had family members who were. It was something the school administration could handle better but that stuff got sticky awfully quickly and the school had apparently decided that ignorance was the best policy. They might’ve been right, but it still didn’t feel like a good choice, just the best of bad choices.

  “I was born here, so I’m good. But my brother…he’s in college
, and he’s a Dreamer. You know what that is?”

  Sean nodded. Yeah, he knew. So Miguel’s older brother wasn’t born here but had come as a child, and he was on the path to legal citizenship. As long as he stayed out of trouble and kept up with his paperwork, they couldn’t deport him.

  “So you know they’re trying to take it away, right? That they could end it and then what’s my brother supposed to do? My parents, they moved here as adults and they still talk to people back home, and send money when they can, but my brother’s never been back and I’ve never been. We don’t speak Spanish. I’ve never set foot in Mexico. And great as being a Dreamer is, it means they know my parents are illegal too, and—”

  Miguel’s eyes were wild and his breath had started coming hard. Sean’s heart crumpled in his chest. Fucking hell. What was going to happen to this kid’s family? What would happen to Miguel and his brother? If the parents got deported…

  “Fuck.”

  Miguel looked at him like he had three heads, and who could blame him? Sean did his utmost not to swear in front of his students, but this was too much for a person to bear without at least being able to curse. He never told his students not to swear, just cautioned them they’d probably get in trouble for it once they left his office.

  “I’m sorry for swearing, that wasn’t okay. But your situation really sucks. It totally sucks, and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. Your family doesn’t deserve this. I can’t imagine how stressful this must be for you and your family. But no one in your family is illegal, okay? They might be undocumented, but no human being is illegal. I’ll do some research and look into if there’s anything I can do or anything the school can do to help. But in the meantime, you can come talk to me anytime, okay? I’m not reporting any of this to the authorities, and if you’re having a hard time in your classes because it’s difficult to concentrate with so much on your mind, let me know. I’ll talk to your teachers and sort it out.”