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  He looked Bjorn up and down, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, what are you here for, then? Talk.”

  Bjorn tilted his head up to look right at him. His eyes were huge and watery, his mouth half-open. He took a deep breath before he started to talk, his gaze never leaving Mickey’s face. “I owe you a hell of an apology.”

  Mickey’s eyes widened. Without meaning to, he relaxed the grip on his hands. That wasn’t how he had expected that conversation to start. If Mickey was going to get an apology, he was sure that it was going to be a meek one. That was, if one was to happen at all.

  Before he could react or say anything else, Bjorn was talking again. “Honestly, I don’t deserve for you to forgive me,” Bjorn said, his voice breaking. Because he was looking right at Mickey’s face, Mickey could clearly see the tears pooling in his eyes. Bjorn was trying to blink them away, but they were coming out, one by one, leaving wet streaks on his face. It was as if Mickey’s chest was being squeezed when he watched Bjorn continue to talk. “God, I’m such an idiot, I let them all pressure me into it because I didn’t want to hurt them but shouldn’t have and all I ended up doing was hurting you. I should have just talked to you. I should have just fucking talked to you, but I couldn’t, and I really wanted to. I guess part of me really wanted to believe that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t anything. That if we treated it as a joke, if we got everyone else to treat it as a joke, then maybe it was. But it wasn’t, and all day, I just kept thinking about how I wanted to see you. About how it wasn’t a joke to me, how it was real, how I needed to tell you that it was real. And then you came and you put your arms around me, and I just…”

  Mickey watched him, still saying nothing. He didn’t know what he could say. Bjorn seemed sincere, which meant that Mickey had been wrong. Once Bjorn trailed off, he put his head in his hands. That was enough; he wasn’t just crying a little bit, he was sobbing, and Mickey wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, because part of him was still angry. But even with the anger, he thought that he understood what Bjorn was saying. Coming out had been hard, and things had been confusing for Mickey for a few years. Just realizing that he might not be as straight as he thought—that was probably hard for Bjorn. Realizing that he wasn’t straight in the public eye, in a tournament that he always wanted to be in, that was probably way harder. Mickey wished that he had considered it, but truthfully, it never crossed his mind. It said more about him that he had assumed it was about himself, not about Bjorn.

  “Hey,” Mickey said, walking over to him and putting his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not, though,” Bjorn said. “You probably hate me now and you’re totally right to hate me, I just—I just wish I hadn’t made you hate me.”

  “Calm down, pet,” Mickey replied, trying to keep his tone as soothing as possible, his hand still on Bjorn’s shoulder. “Calm down, alright? I don’t hate you. The thought never even crossed my mind. I don’t, I like you a lot, I’m just—”

  Bjorn looked at him, a small smile appearing on his face. “You like me a lot?”

  “Yeah,” Mickey said, dropping his voice a bit. “I still like you a lot, okay? That hasn’t changed just because you did something stupid.”

  “It was really stupid, though,” Bjorn replied.

  “Yeah, it was, but you get one pass for doing something really stupid,” Mickey said. He grabbed Bjorn’s hands, which were a little bit wet from the tears and their fingers interlocked. “I don’t like being a joke, Bjorn. You probably don’t know this about me, but I’ve worked very hard to be who I am today. That includes being someone that isn’t ashamed of who he is. And if this was a joke, if it was funny at all, that would be different. I would even be on board with that, because so long as it is me who is poking fun at myself, then that’s okay. I’m not so stuck-up that I think it’s not funny to make fun of myself. You get that, right?”

  Bjorn looked at him, nodding his head so slightly that Mickey almost missed it.

  “But I just—I know I shouldn’t have behaved like I did. I shouldn’t have punished you. It’s just that it was so hard, because, God, you’re so gorgeous and I really wanted to call you my boyfriend but not in a joking way. I also knew that was never going to happen, so I thought—I don’t know, I guess I thought that if I let you see how awful it was, that you would run straight into my arms. Which makes no sense, I know, because why would you do that with someone that humiliated you in the first place? I wanted to get you back, and I’m sorry for it. But it doesn’t mean that I hate you. It just means that I’m an immature knob.”

  “I don’t think I’m much better,” Bjorn replied, his small smile widening. “You want to call me your boyfriend?”

  “Aye,” Mickey said. “But if, and only if, it’s serious. I don’t want to call you anything that you don’t want to be. For the time being, we can keep up the pretense. I understand that it’s something that you need, not just for your team, but for you.”

  “But I could have talked to you about it,” Bjorn replied, snuffling. “I’m sorry. You know, for what it’s worth.”

  “I know,” Mickey replied. “I get it. And how would you have known you could talk to me? It’s not as if I was being receptive or whatever. My friend was here, too. I think if I had told him to leave, you would have had an easier time.”

  Bjorn sighed. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but it was still really shitty of me.”

  Mickey nodded, twisting his lips. “You’re not going to hear any different from me. Just, I don’t know. Don’t do it again, okay?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bjorn said.

  Then they shared a look and neither one of them said anything.

  ***

  Mickey wasn’t sure who kissed who first. All that he knew was that the moment that Bjorn stopped talking—only a few seconds later—Bjorn’s lips were on his, and his arms were wrapped around Mickey’s neck. It was a passionate, searching, open-mouthed kiss, one that Mickey didn’t realize how much he had been yearning for. His hands were all over Bjorn’s clothed back and Bjorn was pressing into him so hard that Mickey could feel his erection through the fabric of his jeans. He hadn’t expected anything like this to actually happen, so the fact that it was blew his mind a little mind. Mostly he was focused on the way Bjorn tasted, like an energy drink, caffeine and a little bit of honey. He had a little bit of stubble, too, which irritated Mickey’s skin but also turned him on at the same time. Bjorn was a good kisser, and Mickey would have been happy to stay like that for the next few minutes, but soon Bjorn had moved his hands down to Mickey’s shirt and was tugging at it. If Bjorn wanted to see Mickey without his shirt on, Mickey was more than happy to oblige. He raised his arms over his head and let Bjorn take his shirt off. Then Bjorn broke off the kiss, moving away to look at Mickey for a second.

  Mickey took the chance to check in with him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Bjorn nodded, taking in a sharp breath. “Yes,” he replied. “Yes, this is exactly what I want. I’m sorry I’ve been such an idiot. I—I was afraid.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid, okay? Not when it comes to me. You never have to be afraid when it comes to me,” Mickey said, putting his thumb under Bjorn’s chin and tilting his face up to kiss him on the mouth. This kiss wasn’t as insistent; it was soft and sweet. Mickey was trying his best to hold back, though really he wanted Bjorn to wrap his legs around his waist, to feel the friction on his hardened cock against Bjorn’s own. But he also wanted to give him time to catch up, and it was obvious that Bjorn still had to process things. He wanted this to be a memorable experience for Bjorn, one that he would look back on fondly, even if he decided that it wasn’t what he wanted after all. Mickey couldn’t really afford to think about that right now, though. He wanted this too much, he needed it, and worrying about what Bjorn would think later wasn’t helping him. They were still making out like a couple of teenagers when Bjorn moved away from
him and dropped to his knees, as though that was a thing that he normally did, though he wobbled on the way there.

  He looked up at Mickey and their gazes meet. “Do you want me to, um—”

  “If you want to,” Mickey replied. What he really wanted to say was yes, yes, I want you to, I can’t wait to feel your mouth wrapped around my cock. But he couldn’t say that, because he didn’t want to push Bjorn. It didn’t matter, though, because Bjorn was quick to reply.

  “Yes,” Bjorn said. “I really want you to.”

  “Okay,” Mickey replied. Bjorn fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, his zipper, until he had gotten his pants halfway down his legs and the outline of Mickey’s erection was visible through his black boxers. Bjorn stayed still for a few seconds, just looking at him.

  Mickey cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Bjorn replied. “I’m great. I’m just—I’m just kind of enjoying looking at you. You’re amazing.”

  Mickey wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was also pretty certain that his cock had just gotten harder at Bjorn’s words. Bjorn slid Mickey’s boxers down his legs, his hardened cock standing at full attention right in front of Bjorn’s face.

  Bjorn looked at Mickey again. This time, his cheeks were reddened. “I’ve never done this before,” Bjorn said.

  “It’s okay,” Mickey replied, putting his hand on Bjorn’s head and running his fingers through his curly blond hair. “I’m sure you’re going to be amazing.”

  Bjorn opened his mouth a little more and stuck the head of Mickey’s uncut cock into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, then pressed it on the slit. That was enough to elicit a moan from Mickey, which seemed to galvanize Bjorn. He shifted so that he could take all of Mickey into his mouth, which was no small task. Mickey was well endowed, and even some of his more experienced lovers couldn’t fit all of him in their mouth, but Bjorn was definitely going for it, and his enthusiasm was almost enough to make Mickey come right then and there. He moved his head back and forth, over and over again, until the pressure was almost too much for Mickey to bear, and his toes were curling. “Bjorn, I’m going to—”

  Bjorn looked up at him, his eyes huge and white and watery from the throat-fucking. He nodded slightly and that was all that it took to send Mickey over the edge. He came in spurts, right into Bjorn’s mouth, who wouldn’t move at all, who swallowed all of his load, even when it sounded like he was choking. Mickey threw his head back, closed his eyes and saw stars behind his eyelids every time that he heard Bjorn make a noise. His orgasm lasted for ages, and by the time he was done, he was exhausted.

  He opened his eyes again to look down at Bjorn, who had moved away from him and was wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand. “Was that good?”

  “Good?” Mickey replied, flashing him a grin. “It was more than good, it was fantastic. What did you think?”

  “It was…” Bjorn furrowed his brow for a second, which made Mickey wonder if he was regretting it all. But he didn’t have to worry about that for long. “It was incredible, actually.”

  “Good,” Mickey replied. He dropped to his knees, too, so that he was kneeling right in front of Bjorn. He gave him a kiss on the mouth, a deep searching one, where he could still taste himself. When he moved away, Bjorn was breathing quicker, more shallowly. “Are you going to let me do the same thing for you, or what?”

  The pink on Bjorn’s cheeks turned dark red, but he nodded slowly. He swallowed again, then looked into Mickey’s eyes. “Yes,” Bjorn said. “Yes, please.”

  “Okay,” Mickey replied, biting his lower lip. “Okay, darling. Stand up.”

  Bjorn stood up, so now Mickey was facing his crotch. There was definitely a bulge there and Mickey couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. He undid Bjorn’s pants with much more ease than Bjorn had undone his, taking a second to admire the huge bulge in Bjorn’s underwear. His underwear was cute, red, and contrasted with the huge cock that was being blocked from view by the fabric.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Mickey said. He kissed the inside of Bjorn’s thighs, his kisses soft on Bjorn’s legs. Bjorn moaned every time that Mickey touched him, grazed him with his lips, moved his chin across his skin. He stuck his fingertips under the waistband of Bjorn’s boxers and slid them slowly off, watching the way that his cock looked now that it was naked. His dick was as beautiful as he was, big but not too big, and his balls were already small and tight.

  Bjorn stepped out of his boxers and Mickey kissed the inside of his legs until he took his balls inside his mouth, using his hand to slowly stroke Bjorn’s erection. He was beautiful under him, his cock throbbing, and it only took a few more seconds before he put Bjorn’s cock in his mouth.

  Bjorn grabbed his shoulders and dug his fingertips into Mickey’s skin, which only made him more excited. Mickey sucked him off carefully, tenderly, but hungrily. He had wanted this ever since the first time that he had seen Bjorn, and he was determined to savor it as much as he could. He sped up as he felt Bjorn’s balls getting even tighter, as he saw the muscles in his legs get tense, too. “I want to feel you on me,” he said as he moved away from Bjorn. It seemed like Mickey’s words were enough to set him off, because soon Bjorn’s load was where he said he wanted it, on his skin, on his lips, in his mouth. There was a lot of it, too, and it took ages for Bjorn to finish, but Mickey loved every second of it. Everything that Bjorn chose to share with him was something that Mickey loved, and just seeing the amount of jizz everywhere, feeling it on his skin, was getting him excited again. They locked eyes until Bjorn smiled at him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It had all happened so quickly that they hadn’t even gotten as far as the bed, but that didn’t seem to matter. The moment that Bjorn was finished—with a monumental, ridiculous load, he thought to himself—Mickey had straightened up and grabbed his hand, leading him to his bed. The bed in the suite was much larger than his own, and it was raised off the floor, something that he was sure he could get used to. That was one of the reasons why he didn’t protest when Mickey climbed into bed and waited for Bjorn to join him. Bjorn did so readily, putting his head on Mickey’s chest without protest or comment. All that he knew was that it was right, that he was supposed to be there. That he wanted to be there more than anywhere else in the world.

  This wasn’t what he had expected when he had first decided that he would apologize to Mickey. In fact, Bjorn didn’t think that Mickey would ever forgive him, but he hadn’t just forgiven him. He had let him suck him off, then he had returned the favor himself, blowing his mind as he did so. Everything that Bjorn had started questioning about himself ever since he had met Mickey took a backseat to the fact that Mickey was there, with him. Even after what Bjorn had done to him, he was still there. He wasn’t just there, he was cuddling him, kissing the top of his head. Bjorn was still wearing his shirt, which made no sense, since Mickey was fully naked. But he really didn’t want to move.

  He sighed before he spoke, loving the scent of Mickey’s skin under him. “That was amazing.”

  “You liked that?” Mickey replied, the smile clear in his voice.

  “I don’t think like is a big enough word for how I felt about that,” Bjorn said. “I’m still trying to kind of process it. Is it always like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Mickey replied. “Like all sex, sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s not as good. The point is, darling, to enjoy yourself. And you seemed to enjoy yourself, so overall I’m pleased. Are you pleased?”

  “Mmm,” Bjorn said, nuzzling into the muscles on Mickey’s neck. “Again, don’t think pleased is the right word. I think it’s more like blown away, or something similar to that. I don’t know. I’m hoping I’ll regain my vocabulary sometime soon. All I know is that it was real good.”

  “Real good, huh?”

  “Shut up,” Bjorn replied, softly chuckling. “I’m Southern. Kind of.”

  “Yeah? Where from?” Mickey replied. He was curling a st
rand of Bjorn’s blond hair around his finger, looking down at him with fond amusement. The way his gaze was set on Bjorn set his teeth on edge, in a good way. He had never known anyone that had made him feel like this, so at ease but also scared at the same time. He thought that he could get used to it.

  “Louisiana,” he said. “Baton Rouge. That’s not where I’m from originally, but it’s where my mom’s family is from.”

  Mickey laughed. “That must have been a weird change. Sweden to Louisiana.”

  “It was worse for my mom, I think,” Bjorn said. “She’s American, but she had spent so long in Sweden, it was as if she didn’t recognize the place anymore. Or, I don’t know, more like the place didn’t recognize her. I know I’m not making any sense, but that’s how she described it to me. She said that it was as if where she was from had spat her out and completely forgotten about her. When her and my dad split up, she was planning on staying in Sweden, but my dad is an asshole and she wanted to come home.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Mickey replied. “Sorry to hear your dad is an arsehole.”