Tag: cuddles

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Julian awoke in the pre-dawn hours to the sound of tears.
It took him a moment to remember there was someone in his bed. Matt had slept over the night before. He didn’t want to be alone. Somehow they both fit on his full-size mattress.
“Matty?” he whispered. “Are you ok? Are you in pain?”
“I’m too scared!” Matt sobbed. “I don’t want to go to surgery today! Please Julian I don’t want to go!”
Julian parted his lips but no words came out. He swallowed. “Come here,” was all he could say. “Lie on me.” He encouraged Jasper to roll onto his side and onto Julian’s chest. Julian put an arm over him.
“It’s ok to be scared. Surgery is scary. Being cut open is scary. But you need to get better. I know you feel fine right now, but soon the pain meds won’t do it anymore. If that small tumor is cancer, then we can’t let it spread. It has to be biopsied. It has to go.”
“But it’s in my head,” Matt sniffled. “I don’t want them to go in there. You’re not supposed to. What if they change me?”
“I can’t guarantee nothing bad will happen if you go into surgery, Matty. But if you don’t, I know something bad will happen. It will grow. Spread. Hurt you.”
Matt whimpered.
“But if you’re a brave boy and get surgery today, that bad thing won’t happen. You’ll take a nap and it’ll magically be over. You will be good as new.”
“…But what if something goes wrong and I wake up a vegetable.”
Julian looked down on him. “I will take care of you for the rest of your life, and love you just the same.”
Matty began to cry again. “I love you Julian. I know you just think of me as your pesky best friend but…I really love you. You’re like a blood brother to me.”
Julian felt a lump form in his throat. “I love you too, my little dove. I want you to be healthy. Will get the surgery for me?”
There was a hiccup. “Yes. I’ll do it for you. All that tumor does is threaten to take me away from you. I want to be with you without it there. I hate knowing it’s in my head right now.”
“That’s it, doveling. That’s the right attitude. What’s the Prodigy song you like so much?”
That got a small smile out of Matt. “Invaders must die.”
“Exactly. We don’t have to be at the hospital until 7. Let’s got a few more minutes of sleep ok?”
“Ok, Julian.” Matt says, snuggling Julian’s pectoral. “This is so nice. I feel so safe.”
“When you wake up in the hospital after surgery, I’ll be resting next to you so you can cuddle me ok?”
“I – I would love that.”
“Then it’s settled. Now sleep a minute.”
Matt just sighed.

And soon the room was quiet except Matt’s little hiccups. Julian stroked his hair until it was time to get up. Julian couldn’t fall back asleep. He could sleep while Matt was in surgery. Right now, Matt needed a protector. Julian wished there was something he could do to protect Matty from this tumor. He hoped keeping him positive and strong would help them conquer the fight. “I’ll do all I can for you.” Julian whispered in the quiet room, and crossed himself to seal the promise. 

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Captions are fictional.

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temptingdominance:

hornyjustfordaddy:

flashdoggy:

Throw a few big dogs on that bed and you have my typical Sunday afternoons.

@temptingdominance

Yes!

August shuffled to the front door, feeling thick headed and blurry eyed. Was it his neighbor giving him mixed up mail again? He opened the door, blinking and stunned, but deeply pleased. “Oscar! What are you here?”
He looked a bit sheepish and held up a bag. “I um, just wanted to see you again, you know. I’ve been wanting to see you since our last date, and when I heard you were sick and that you had to cancel our date tonight, you sounded so down. I brought you some soup, tea, and tissues and magazines and stuff.”
August looked at his boyfriend fondly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m really happy to see you. I’m glad you came.”
Oscar smiled. “May I come in?”
“Oh sure sure. Watch Gordie there.”
August’s giant Rottweiler bowled Oscar over with a greeting. The dog was brimming with energy. “Oof! Oh hello big boy. Yes you are such a hyper dog!” Oscar looked at August. “Does he need to be walked?”
August looked at him. “Yeah he hasn’t been walked in two days,” he admitted. “Just so fucking sick and it’s so cold out there.”

Oscar nodded. “Well I’m still in my jacket. Why don’t you get started on this soup, make some tea, and I’ll check on you when I get back?”
August wondered if Oscar had been sent from heaven. “You are awesome. I’d kiss you if I wasn’t sick.”
“I’ll take a raincheck.”
August chuckled.

When Oscar returned with a tired and happy dog, he found August snuggled into the sofa with the empty take-out container of soup, a decimated cracker packet, and a nearly empty cup of tea. “Guess I was hungry?”
Oscar laughed. “Clearly.“

August’s body had been fighting its viral invaders all day, all now that it had fresh fuel, it was too much for him to stay awake and turn the food into energy. He quickly became drowsy. Oscar didn’t complain. He changed August’s sheets while August showered, and tucked him in. Oscar even risked getting sick himself by crawling in to bed with August to read him a bed time story.

August insisted on cuddling as close to Oscar as possible. He hoped Oscar could feel the love radiating from his body. He was still a bit shy about expressing his feelings, and found it easier to show them instead. Oscar put an arm over. August exhaled softly in contentment, and drifted off to the timbre of Oscar’s voice.

When he woke up the next morning, August felt marginally better. His fever had broken, but he felt warm because there was a giant dog on top of him. Oscar was no where to be seen, but there was fresh laundry in the basket at the foot of the bed. A quick check of the apartment showed it had been tidied. Dishes washed. August was stunned. His boyfriend had done this for him? A fresh lump appeared in throat. Fuck, he wasn’t worthy!

He found a note taped to his phone: Gordie’s been let out and fed. Went to run errands. Text me when you’re up, I’ll bring you breakfast 🙂

Why was that smiley face so cute? August checked the time. He texted Oscar. “I’m up for brunch now. Gonna take another shower. See you soon?”
As he was drinking last night’s cold tea, August got a response. “I’m bringing lox and bagels. See you soon!”
August smiled. He paused with his finger over his phone’s keyboard. Maybe it was the medication making him do it, but he responded. “Thank you, babe. Listen, um, I think …I think I’m falling in love with you.” He immediately panicked after sending it. The response time felt like an eon.
Oscar wrote back though. “Oh wow. Nice to hear you’re catching up to me. :)”

August couldn’t help it. He made it into the shower before he began to cry. After being abandoned by his mom, cheated on by a past lover, and scammed out of overtime at work, August finally felt like he was loved and cherished.

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Captions are fictional. D’aw.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

dailypleaselikeme:

Nailed it.

“…Does that mean I still have to get out of bed? Things are pretty ace right now.”
“Mn. Eventually. But it doesn’t matter where we are, I will still love you. Close by, or from a distance, across the table, or cuddled up to you in bed – I will still be loving you. And you take that love, and wear it like armor, ok? And no matter how shitty your day is, it’s just D4 damage. It’ll roll right off.”
I chuckle. “Nerdy and completely sweet. So like you, Atherton. You make my heart just hurt with how much I love you. “
“I’m sorry. If I kiss you more, will it make it stop hurting?’”
“Nmmn no, I like this feeling. But you can keep kissing me anyway…”
“Well, if I must…”

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Captions are fictional. What series is this from? D4 damage is a reference to Dungeons and Dragons, referring to damage done from a small object.

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gaylovegalore:

Love love cuddling.

I know he’ll be embarrassed in the morning when my aunt comes downstairs and sees us like this – shirtless, spooning, my bulky arm possessively around his thin waist. I know Brazos doesn’t want to be a stereotype, and that he’s conscious of the gay image he projects. I also know he doesn’t believe me when my I tell him my aunt couldn’t care less.

Now really isn’t the time to be worrying about appearances though. I think it was just his sort of attempt at normalcy. 

I had been following the weather all day, tracking developments from my place on the other side of Lake Ray Hubbard in Rockwall. I told Brazos to leave Rowlett. He refused, stubborn, cocky, hiding his nervousness. I told him to pack a bug-out bag. He scoffed, but he packed. Then, a tornado watch was issued. Then a warning. I jumped in my pick up truck and sped over to get him. The wind was ridiculous; lightening forked through the dark. I sped into the apartment complex parking lot, leaving skids on the road. I was banging on doors, telling people to move, move, move. Brazos and I jumped into my truck and fled as the tornado roared in the distance.

The power was out in my neighborhood, so we drove a little ways to stay with my aunt near Wylie. Brazos was in shock. He cried for an hour, suspecting the worse. He would only sleep if I cuddled with him. It took a while to get him calm, but I eventually got him down on my aunt’s pull out sofa. By that point, I was so worn out from the adrenaline crash and from taking care of Brazos, I didn’t last much longer.

Tomorrow will be a rough day.

I withheld information from Brazos that came on the TV when he was in the bathroom earlier. His apartment complex was obliterated. I recognized the sign in front of it, but that was all. I’ll have to break the news that his home, and probably his car, are destroyed. We will have to salvage his life from over god-knows how many square miles the tornado scattered his stuff. Luckily, Brazos has his phone, his wallet, and his passport. He’ll manage. One thing is clear though – after this, he is going to be moving in with me. I won’t ever let Brazos be in a position where I can’t protect him again. I was still brushing tears out of my eyes as I fell asleep. 

This post is for anyone in North Texas dealing with the tornadoes. Hope you’re all safe.

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Story is fictional. 

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“Of all the things we could have done today…” he says with a contented sigh.
After a moment, I reply. “We could have gone for a walk.”
“Or gone to the movies,” 
“Gone hiking.”
“Day tripped to the beach.”
“Went to a museum.”
“Returned those books to the library.”
“Did laps at the pool.”
“Go for a run.”
“Volunteered at the cat shelter.”
“Got my oil changed in my car.”
“Spend too much time on Facebook.”
“Gone to the County Fair.”
“We’re still doing that next week right? With Jen and Rachel?”
“Oh yeah absolutely.”
“What else could we have done?”
“Gone to that new exhibit at the Annenberg.”
“Power washed the driveway.”
“Solved the drought crisis in California.”
“Stop global warming.”
“Cured Malaria.”
“Built an orphanage.”
“Figured out cold fusion.”
“Stopped the obesity epidemic.”
“Those are all good things,” he notes.
“Mmmhm. But we didn’t do any of them did we?”
“Nope, we stayed in and fucked this Saturday afternoon instead.”
“How was it?”
“Amazing,” he sighs again. “I love that you let me rest on pecs. You are so comfy.”
“You are a bit…heavy. Have you been bulking up at the gym?”
“Oh baby, you did notice!”
“Of course I did. I appreciate you wanting to better yourself, and if I must inconvenience myself by forcing myself to gaze upon your sculpted, naked male body, I will – even if I have to suffer for it.”
He giggles. “You know out of everything we just listed, the gym was the one thing I actually planned on doing today.”
“You going?”
“Nope. I got my work out.”
“I did most of the work,” I reminded.
“No no, you don’t understand. Today was the day I work out my ass.”
“So …good work out?”
“Great work out.”
“I’m glad we’re getting so much done today.”
“Me too. Can we cuddle more now?”
“See? Another thing we can cross off the list.”

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Text is fictional.

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I lean against him, one hand around his waist. He’s mostly quiet now, except for his sniffles punctuating the silence of our living room. The warm Florida sunlight streaming in through the windows is making me sleepy. I close my eyes, doing my best to emanate calmness and serenity. It took me nearly twenty minutes to get him to calm down, my boyfriend was that upset.

I was just congratulating myself on my ability to recover from such a turn of events when Quint’s thin facade crumbled again. I felt his shoulders tremble first. I opened my eyes and turned my head slightly him, just enough time to see his bottom lip tremble but not enough time to react.
“My gecko,” he wailed through a tight throat, and fresh tears began to fall. “My poor little Shovel.” He burst into fresh sobs.
“Oookay come here,” I cooed, using my hand on his waist to guide him sideways and into my arms. Quint crawled into my embrace and set to work on soaking my shirt again. I held him tight, wishing I could do something – anything – to lessen his pain.

The shock of coming back from a trip to the post office to find the little guy deceased had sunk in now, and Quint was now ruminating in his grief. I kissed his temple and rocked him. “Oh my poor baby.”
“I already miss him so much,” Quint babbled. “I am never gonna see his smiling face when I come to see him again. I’m never going to feed him another mealworm again, or watch him climb up the glass like Spiderman… he was just such a bro. Watching TV is never going to be same without him. He loved hockey.”
I try not to laugh. It’s not the right time. “Aww honey. Shovel had an excellent life with you. You said he was old wasn’t it?”
Quint nodded as he blew his nose with a tissue he pulled from the box to his side. “He was old for a leopard gecko. He was 17. I had him since I was 11. He was my birthday gift for getting straight As in school. I spent more of half my life with with-” At the end of that sentence, Quint’s voice goes up into a falsetto and clings to me hard, still crying. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
“There, there,” I say, knowing my words won’t do a thing.
“I had gotten him some new stuff for his terrarium for Christmas. What do I do with it now?”
“You can donate it to a reptile rescue, so some other lizard will get a nice life in Shovel’s name.”
I can’t tell if that upset Quint or made him happier, but the waterworks are in full gush mode right now. I hug him until I’m worried his ribs are going to break. My heart hurts for my boyfriend and I feel a little helpless that I can’t make this suck less.

Quint sniffles. “Two days before Christmas…why…”
“He just decided it was time,” I explain. “Shovel was very lucky to have you. I don’t want you blaming yourself now. He knew your schedule well. I think he passed when you were out at the post office because he couldn’t do it while you were around. Shovel knew how much you loved him.”
“Y-you think so?”
“Yes,” I say, with a nod. “He was an old gecko. He just took a nap and went. I’d say that’s the best you could have hoped for right? No pain, no lingering illness…”
“I loved that gecko.” Quint pauses for a loud hiccup. “I knew this was coming one day. I just thought there would be a sign…”
“Being 17 was a sign, love.” I insist.
“Still. I wanted more time,” Quint whines. He still hasn’t let go of me.
“I know, baby, but that wouldn’t be fair to Shovel. Shovel couldn’t give you more than that. He gave you all he could.”
Quint is quiet for a long moment, thinking about his beloved pet. “You are such a wonderful boyfriend, Marcus,” he says, surprising me. “I am blubbering like an idiot and crying all over you and you’re just putting up with me.”
“It’s part of loving you,” I say. “Being in a relationship means that you don’t just get the fun times and good sex-”
“Yeah the sex is pretty damn good,” admits Quint.
I chuff through my nose. “It is. But it also means being there when you need someone to get you through hard times. Shovel was part of our family. I’m not a total dick. I will put black bunting on his terrarium in mourning, if you want, and we can have a lovely funeral for the little guy.”
“Oh, I’d like that! I’d like that a lot.” Quint kisses me on the lips, then rests his head on my shoulder. “You are getting so many good boyfriend points right now.”
I smile. “Does that mean I’m getting extra Christmas presents?”
“Oh, it definitely does. And I’ll even let you be the little spoon in bed when we sleep.”
“Oh ho, I am a good boy on Santa’s list this year huh?”
Quint nods once more. “Uh-huh. Very good. God, I love you, Marcus.”
“I love you too, Quint. Why don’t we get you something cool to drink and you can wash your face?”
“Oh vodka. I need vodka.”
I laugh. “11 am vodka it is. A drink in Shovel’s memory?”
“To Shovel,” Quint agrees, all red-eyed and drained of energy.

I pat my lover on the shoulder, help him get up, and walk him to the kitchen. Again, I applaud myself for how well I handled the situation. I had been dangerously close to thinking Quint might be “the one”, but there were a few last tests to be done before I could make such a declaration. I was pretty sure we passed this one. There were a few more tests left, like talking about having children, and then I would know for sure if Quint could be mine for good. I was looking forward to them, because I was confident everything would work in our favor. I was confident in our love, because nothing could stop me from feeling the way I did about Quint – on good days, or bad ones.

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Text is fictional.

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jeanbaptistehuong:

© JBH/BVD-2014 – Madrid (Spain)

Fabrice & Sylvain

When we’re out in public, or on the streets, they see a man that just doesn’t stop. He’s gregarious, extraverted, out-going. Always there with a grin and a wave and a boisterous. “Hey how have you been? How’s your mom/dog/sister/job/chastity going?” He remembers everyone. Memory like a steel trap.

At work, he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed at 7 am, cheerful and chipper and done with his work by 3 pm. He’ll top it off with a work-out and then come home to cook-dinner by humming.

At leather events, he’s almost like a puppy although he is the one holding my leash. He struts around, so eager to show me off while trying to talk to everyone and investigate everything. Pulling me aside to fuck me in a fit of lust only seems to spur him on more, and for the next hour he’ll lavish me in attention and touches until I’m desperately horny again and sucking his cock in the middle of the room. His nickname is the Energizer Bunny at these events for a reason. Four hours of spanking demonstrations? Ok! Let’s go.

What these people don’t see is that my baby needs to recharge sometimes. Sometimes those batteries do wind down, and he gets sullen and cranky. He can only get his energy back through a thermal charge, so I’ll half carry him into the bedroom for a nap. He’ll cling to me, both hands touching my skin like positive and negative terminals, seeking the current running through me. We’ll talk in low voices until he drifts off to sleep, and he charges.

I like to stroke his hair and kiss his face, and shower him with the gentlest love I can manage. I can’t do these things when he’s zooming around the house. This is my time to monopolize him, without roles or statuses. He goes from an Energizer bunny to my cuddle bunny.

And how do I know when he’s recharged? Because he does what all bunnies start doing when they get their vigor back – he begins to hump my leg.

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Text is fictional. Source is below.

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When Billy came into the door, I saw in his face that something had upset him. His shoulders and posture were sagging and his eyes were red.
“Honey what’s wrong?” I put down my newspaper.
“James, some mean boys bullied me on the way to the train station.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry.” I stood up and pulled him into a hug. Billy clung to me, pressing his lithe body up against my more substantial one. I removed his stylish hat and tossed it into the sofa. Underneath his cardigan, I could feel him trembling. “They called me a faggot, and said I looked like a queer, I should get hit by a train.”
I tensed and released a slow breath, seething. “I’m going to pick you up from work tomorrow, and you’re gonna start carrying mace. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“They scared me,” Billy admitted, his voice cracking.
“Ssh shh…I won’t let them lay a finger on you. They don’t deserve you.”

I sensed the hug wasn’t reaching him. “Here, I think this will help.” I gently pried Billy off, and began to remove my clothes. He watched me, curious, and did not protest when I helped him peel off his sweater and began to work the buttons on his shirt. It wasn’t sexual, we just casually removed our clothing piece by piece until it was in a pile on the sofa next to the hat. I wrapped my arms around him again and Billy eagerly reciprocated, pushing himself close against me to get his slim arms around my barrel torso. I felt fingers dig into my buttocks and his small member press against my thigh.

I held and rocked him, uttering soothing words. Billy hiccuped and spilled a few tears, dispersing them by nuzzling my shoulder. I was hoping that skin to skin contact would help calm him. Billy was a small man, and I wanted to be his big, strong rock. As long as I was around, he should feel safe and secure and grounded. After a few minutes of bonding, the trembling faded, his breathing slowed. I kissed the top of his head and he snuggled against the pelt of hair on my chest.

Billy worked at an art gallery downtown. I’d gone there to buy a piece for my living room and ended up leaving with a painting and his phone number. He was intimidated by me at first, but soon realized he got a rush out of being dominated and overpowered in the bedroom. It had taken some practice for him to accept a cock of my size. I in turn, became madly aroused at seeing it disappear into his small arse. I felt that would come later; sex would help him sleep the night. He wasn’t even hard now.

“Are you alright?” I asked, gently.
“Mmnnnn,” he replied back. “I like feeling all of you against me, and the sound of your heart beating. It was all fast before, but it’s slow now.”
“Because those men made me angry. Just – how dare they! What business of theirs is it who you are?”
“I think they’re scared of me,” Billy said.
“Scared?” I repeated.
“Yes… they’re scared that I walk with my head up and am not afraid to be who I am. They don’t understand it, they don’t understand me. They certainly don’t appreciate my excellent fashion sense either. So, they get scared and try to mask it by being mean.”
“Hm. In a way I guess that makes sense. We’ll have to confront of them sometime though.”
Billy sighed. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. I want to think about my naked boyfriend.”
I chuckle. “That is a good thought to be having.”
“Can I cook you dinner like this? Naked?”
“Naked?” I raised an eyebrow. “Well I can’t guarantee you won’t make it to dinner without me getting my hands on you.”
Billy looked up at me with a cheeky little smile on his face. “Well, we’ll see how long you last.”

I raise an eyebrow and squeeze his butt before he slips away, scampering off to the fridge with his cock bouncing between his legs. I mourn the loss of his body heat immediately, but I am mostly relieved that my Billy has recovered. The cruelty of the world outside the walls of our home can wait to be dealt with another day. I watch Billy bend over to peer into the fridge. I sigh. It’s ridiculous how much I am in love with him.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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Greg had been listening to his boyfriend’s heartbeat for the last forty minutes. It was so soothing to be so comfortable, so warm and snug on a chilly spring night. Yet, he couldn’t fall asleep. Normally he was out like a light – wasn’t there something he’d forgotten to do? It nagged at him. Jesse was asleep too half under him, and Greg had been listening to the soft sounds of him breathing the entire time. He liked having quiet moments like this to appreciate his lover and to just snuggle – his previous boyfriend didn’t like to snuggle – but Greg wanted to join Jesse in sleep now. What was the deal?

He ran through his night routine – turn off the light in Jesse’s beloved aquarium downstairs, lock the doors, turn off the porch lights, put the meat from the freezer on a plate to defrost in the fridge… he’d done all that. Go upstairs, check. Brush his teeth, check. Floss, check. Give his boyfriend his good night kiss, ch… wait a second. Greg furrowed his brow. No, he hadn’t. They’d been talking about Greg’s pregnant sister when they turned off the lights, and Jesse had dozed off. That’s what it was. Greg felt warm when he realized it. He couldn’t sleep without his goodnight kiss. Jesse meant that much to him.

Greg tilted his head up and pressed his lips to Jesse’s soft, open ones, their stubble brushing together. He couldn’t wait to tell Jesse in the morning… and that was his last thought before he fell off into deep sleep.

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Text is fictional. The actors are Tom Cullen and Chris New, and this gif is from the heartbreakingly beautiful gay film Weekend.