Page 85 of Ctrl+Alt Submit

I had ordered him to edge himself without letting him come the past two nights, but even seeing him during our video calls, crying and writhing with his cock in chastity and my finger on the app controlling that vibrating plug, just wasn’t the same. There was a craving to dominate him in person that growled in me like a kind of feral hunger.

I knew Errol felt the same way even before he pleaded for it in a strained whisper the instant his lips weren’t on mineanymore. Although I didn’t have the heart to edge him again, I did tell him we weren’t going to sleep until he’d gotten off twice —without touching his cock.

So, yeah — I’m a little groggy as I pitch in with preparations before customers start to show up. I eventually stick my head into the kitchen and tell AJ to impress me before I make my way to my usual seat at the bar.

Twenty minutes later, I’m staring down at a plate of beer-battered chicken and waffles drizzled with whiskey-spiked maple syrup. “If I walk out of here weighing four hundred pounds, it’s your fucking fault,” I tell AJ, my mouth full.

“Ha —thanks! Oh, and dude —I don’t think I told you or Errol this,” he exclaims, looking animated. “There’s supposed to be somebody coming to check this place out today from one of those foodie blogs in New York City!” He grins and holds up his hand for a fist-bump before heading back to the kitchen.

A trendy food critic from the city? Shit. I look around. Actually, the place isn’t half-bad anymore. The new paint on the walls makes the place look fresher and brighter, even with these tacky-ass beer signs. I want to get rid of them, but Errol says the regulars would stage a mutiny. We recently ordered a few new high-top tables and stools, because the ones that were here had seen better decades; plus, we needed a few more of them. Most of them are full right now — which is absolutely bonkers for midday on a Sunday. I think AJ really might be onto something.

When Errol comes up to me from behind the bar, I chuckle. “Something funny, Stud?” he asks.

“It didn’t click until I saw you behind the bar just now, but that’s the same outfit you were wearing the first day I came in here.” I give my head a little shake. “Seeing the man you had grown into impressed the hell out of me. And I’m still impressed with you, every single day.” I don’t know why I’m feeling sappy all of a sudden.

Errol allows himself a half-smile, one corner of his mouth ticking up. “I’m not going to let your investment in this place go to waste.”

“It looks great. It’s hard to believe this is the same place. I’m really proud of you, baby.”

Errol looks down at himself, evaluating his belly with a grimace. “Everything is all new and exciting around here, except me.”

I frown. “Look, any changes you want to make foryourself, I support. But I don’t want a new you. I love everything about you right now.”

He opens his mouth as if to say something. I lean over the bar to grab his hand. “Hey, maybe in forty years I’ll look like the damn crypt keeper and you’ll have held onto your sexy, boyish charm,” I say, giving it a little squeeze.

That gets an eye roll out of him. “How would you even know what I look like in forty years?”

As I look at him, I canseeit in my mind’s eye. It’s the craziest thing. I know exactly what I’m going to do, a thought that feels both exhilaratingly and terrifyingly inevitable. My unspoken words tingle on the tip of my tongue, giving me a sort of strange, heady buzz.

“Well, I figured I’d wake up and roll over,” I say with a shrug.

Errol sort of snorts. “Yeah, ha-ha.” He smirks.

I haven’t even cracked a smile. He blinks, and I can see the exact instant the implication of my reply sinks in. His joking manner vanishes and a swallow bobs in his throat.

I grab his other hand. “That’s what I want. For real. Forever. I’ve thought about it a lot. You remember that time you couldn’t really see a future without me in it? I realized I can’t see — I can’t even imagine — a future without you in it. Waking up next to you, and going to sleep next to you — all the little things and big things, and everything in between. The good times and the badshit, and all the rest of it until forever. I want to have all of that — my whole life — with you.”

My voice has dropped to a whisper. “You’re already my best friend. Will you be my everything else, too? Will you marry me?” Errol’s hands in mine are completely, perfectly still. I squeeze them. “Would you be my husband?”

He pulls his hands out of mine and turns away. My guts turn into lead and I feel like I’ve been punched in the solar plexus. Humiliated tears fill my eyes. I’m a fucking idiot.

I’m nearly knocked off my stool when Errol throws himself into me, squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe. “Oh my God.” His voice, in my ear, is choked-up. “Oh my God, Ran, yes! A thousand million times —yes.”

I feel like a dumbass for crying when I realize he just circled around to the front of the bar so he could hug me. I let out a shaky laugh. By the time he presses his lips to mine in a fierce, deep kiss, they’re wet with the tears that are already spilling down his cheeks. I reach my hand around to clasp his nape, holding his mouth against mine until the hunger of our kiss ebbs into tenderness.

When we finally separate our lips, I take in Errol: strong arms holding me tight, lips flushed from our kiss, brown eyes glowing warm. It’s hard to believe that he’s going to be mine forever.

I swallow down the lump building in my throat so I can say what I need to say. “When I put this place in my rearview mirror, I left behind a boy. I never expected to find a man waiting for me when I came back. And it makes me the luckiest fucker out there that youdidwait. You were here for me even before I knew how badly I needed you to be.”

My words start coming out thickly, and I realize I’m crying. I also realize we’ve attracted an audience of curious diners, but I don’t care about them. Only Errol.

“You’re my rock. You grew into a man I love, but you also grew into a man I can lean on.” A thought strikes me and I find myself laughing through my tears.

“And baby, I really, really hope to be in a position soon where you don’t ever have to do yard work unless youwantto, but I’m always going to appreciate that you know how to fix a lawnmower.”

THE END