Page 49 of Sweet Thing

“Well, I want to spoil you and treat you the way you deserve. Please let me”, Bastian pleaded.

“Okay”, Simeon submitted. How could he refuse?

“One thing I know for sure, you won’t be needing any clean clothes,” Bastian announced. Simeon’s eyes lingered on Bastian’s, and a wide smile stole across his face in understanding.

As the car sped down the Autobahn, Simeon sat back, relaxed, and phoned his papa and then Marcus, explaining quickly that he would be off the radar for the weekend and with whom. Pieter was contacted via text message.

“Can’t make tonight, B is taking me away for the weekend.”

Pieter’s response was swift “Have fun. Hope he’s got something big to give you for your birthday!!!!” Simeon snickered at the reply.

“All done now. I’m all yours.” Simeon returned his phone to his jacket pocket and took Bastian’s hand in his own. He kissed the back of his knuckles. The tickle of excitement rushed through his blood as he remembered the sexless, tender night they’d spent together. A weekend with Bastian would be fun, and maybe, just maybe, Simeon could use his wiles to make the man come.

Bastian’s seatbelt was released, and he slid across the seat to be closer to Simeon. He brushed the bangs from over Sim’s eyes. “All the better to see you,” he smiled and rested his brow on Sim’s. Bastian was alarmed by the intensity of his ardor. Over the past few weeks of separation, he’d not had nightmares about Matti. They had been replaced by spiraling feelings of longing for Simeon. Bastian needed to know if the longing he felt for Simeon was real or if it was yet another delusion in the mind of a man losing his grip on reality.

“Am I permitted to give you a pre-birthday kiss?” he asked.

“Just the one?” Sim pouted with mock affront.

Bastian leaned in and clutched his lover’s face, caressing smooth, shaven skin as they kissed. He was lost in the man’s scent and taste as the car sped along the Autobahn.

“Regardez-Moi,” Sim sighed.

Bastian opened his eyes to meet the steady gaze of the pretty androgynous man who held him on a knife’s edge of desire. Their first kiss was a baby step. Bastian expressed a pleading sigh of “please,” begging for more. Simeon rested his head back against the car seat, and Bastian moved closer, using the brawn of his body to push Sim into the black leather upholstery. He covered Sim’s mouth with his own.

Simeon could feel the weight of Bastian’s thigh between his legs and the pressure against his zipper as his dick woke up. Bastian’s kisses were like drugs, and no Rehab clinic could purge him of his craving. The kisses were thorough and languorous in their sensuality, and Sim felt like his mouth was being slowly fucked by his lover's tongue. He moaned as the tips of their velvety, hot tongues danced and searched. One kiss led to another and Simeon lost track of time until he heard Lewis over the intercom informing:

“ETA 5 minutes, sir.”

The interruption made both men pause for a breath; Bastian settled his head in the crook of Simeon’s shoulder. Sim was his own personal seat belt, holding him in a tight hug as the car sped down sylvan country roads.

Sim’s pronounced arousal felt uncomfortable, squashed into his jeans. He loosened his grip and bucked his hips up, bumping Bastian to push him away. Sim flushed with a sudden joy at glancing off a bulge beneath his lover’s jeans. Bastian was semi-hard from kissing. It was the best response Sim had dragged from the man’s body yet. Simeon longed to work on him a little longer—strip Bastian’s jeans off and takes him to the back of his throat to remind Bastian that he was alive and entitled to enjoy sharing his body with a warm-blooded man, and not just a beloved ghost.

The car turned into an overgrown tree-lined track and drove down it for half a mile. Through the trees, a large log cabin and a vast lake came into view. The sky was a flawless cornflower blue, and the setting idyllic. Set in mature Green Oak woodland, the log cabin was a hundred meters from the water’s edge. Sim got out of the car and looked around. He stood and closed his eyes, inhaled the sweet air, and listened to the sounds of nature. Birds sang in the trees, and a breeze hissed in the tree tops, and ruffled his hair. The sound reawakened a memory:

Simeon was a patient at the Phoenix Clinic in Zurich after a suicide attempt. After three weeks of feeling locked in his head, plagued by hallucinations, fear, craving, and self-loathing, Simeon lay prone, unresponsive. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d spoken. A nurse entered his room, drew the curtains, and pulled the blind up; then she opened the window and let in a fresh gust of the chilly breeze dashing down from Lake Zurich. The room was bathed in bright morning sunshine. Every little thought in Simeon’s head had been about the people he’d loved and lost, and those he had disappointed. All that thinking had rubbed Simeon’s heart raw. He didn’t want to think or feel anymore, but he was required to be completely drug-free, so the Dr. offered nothing to dull the pain. The sound of gentle birdsong filtered in through the open window. It was so pure, so beautiful; Simeon couldn’t breathe. The sharp, sweet birdsong chipped at the shield around his heart, and he submitted to the beauty. Sim curled his skinny body tight into a foetal position and began sobbing uncontrollably. It was the breakthrough that he’d needed.

Simeon let the difficult memory melt back into his subconscious. Back then, he’d been so lost and unwell. He’d felt unloved and unlovable.

“You like?” Bastian asked, his arms linking around Sim’s waist. Sim rested his head back and gave Bastian a peck on the cheek.

“I like a lot. Thank you. This is a wonderful surprise.” Bastian bumped his crotch to the swell of Sim’s ass and swiftly Sim unclasped Bast’s hands from his waist and moved away, sending a coquettish, teasing glare at his lover. It would be good to make him work a little harder, Simeon decided. He strode away, following Lewis, who was carrying luggage to the cabin.

The cabin was made solely of timber. The interior comprised of two large rectangular rooms divided into different areas. The first was a spacious open plan kitchen/living area and behind that, a double bedroom and bathroom. Every single surface inside the cabin had been painted white. It made the rooms appear light, airy, and large. Huge, intricate, colorful Turkish rugs were scattered over the floor in the living area. There was a wide, black velvet sofa facing a rustic fireplace. An old pine blanket box was used as the coffee table, and the walls housed bookshelves filled with lifestyle books.

Bags of groceries littered the work surface in the kitchen. “How long did you say we were staying?” Simeon hollered. It looked like Bastian had pre-arranged the delivery of enough food to last weeks.

Bastian entered the cabin and went directly to the kitchen and began unpacking.

Lewis left the suitcases and several other shopping bags in the bedroom and then took his leave, driving away for a rare weekend off.

****

Simeon felt a little lightheaded with the unexpected way the day had panned out. He found and used the bathroom, and then strode around the bedroom, noting the view over the lake from the window. At the bedroom door, Sim looked out into the kitchen and was struck by butterflies in his tummy and a feeling of Deja Vu.

Bastian was unpacking the groceries. The chore was so ordinary, but Sim paused and rested his head on the doorjamb. He watched as pizza, vegetables, salad and miscellaneous treats were removed from paper bags and stored. Simeon’s heart squeezed with longing. He imagined for a moment what it would be like waking every day to this man as his boyfriend, in his kitchen, making him breakfast, and then hopping back into bed for a snuggle and love making. Simeon wanted that more than he had ever wanted anything.

“Are you okay?”