Despite this, he was determined not to rush things. Yes, he wanted nothing more than for the two of them to get naked and horizontal, then hot and sweaty, but he also wanted for them to take their time. To tease, to torment, to explore each other’s bodies in minute detail. Technically, they’d been having sex for months, but certainly not as frequently as they’d have liked, and the vast majority of the times they’d been together had been snatched, rushed moments. This time, it would be different.

Enjoying their smouldering kiss for a little while longer, Wilkes basked in the anticipation of what was to come. His cock felt fit to burst, but he tried to put it out of his mind. They had two whole days to enjoy each other—that was lots and lots of hours, though it would never be enough. He’d brought plenty of condoms and lube with him, too.

The possibilities were endless. He grinned against Balkhi’s mouth.

Balkhi pulled away, a quizzical expression on his face. “What are you smiling at, Hugh?”

Raising his eyebrows, Wilkes replied, “You really have to ask? I’m here, you’re here. More importantly, no one else is here. We’re together, we have privacy for the first time ever, and I’ve really fucking missed you! Really really missed you.” That last part was growled more than spoken, and Wilkes was gratified when Balkhi gulped, then gave a shy smile.

When the door had been closed behind them, there were a couple more seconds where they didn’t speak. Wilkes took the opportunity to put his bag down, then turned to Balkhi.

“Hi,” he said, taking a step closer.

“Hello.”

“Thank fuck you live alone.” At that, Wilkes fully closed the gap between them, put his hands on Balkhi’s shoulders and pushed him roughly against the door.

Letting out a squeak of surprise, Balkhi’s eyes widened.

Wilkes didn’t stop to look into them. Instead, he moulded his body against his lover’s, cupped his face and moved in for a kiss. The first kiss, the first physical contact of any kind that they’d had in weeks, and it was obvious how much they both needed it. Balkhi’s mouth opened immediately to admit Wilkes’ tongue, and he wallowed in all the emotions coursing through him; lust, need, relief… Delicious sensations followed; the scratch of Balkhi’s goatee against Wilkes’ clean-shaven face, the heat of Balkhi’s mouth, the swirl and thrust of his tongue, the press of his erection against Wilkes’ own.

Fucking hell, I’ve missed this.

It occurred to him that really, he hadn’t missed it per se, because the two of them had never had it quite like this before. Always, without exception, they’d been worried about being discovered. They’d never had true privacy, never had the luxury of being together without looking over their shoulders, or at the very least, being conscious of making too much noise. God, this was almost going to be like their first time all over again. They’d be able to let go completely. Wilkes had a feeling it was going to be utterly mind-blowing.

Wilkes cleared his throat. “You going to invite me in then?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Come on!” Balkhi led him to a tiny lift in the corner of the vestibule and pressed the button for the third floor. When it arrived, they stepped in, waited to be delivered to their floor, keeping a respectable distance between them at all times, then exited. Another door stood between them and the flats. Balkhi pressed a keyring-type thing to a sensor, then pulled it open.

A moment later they were in front of flat number sixteen—Balkhi’s place. Finally. Once they were inside, once they had some privacy, they could say what they really meant, and do what they really wanted to do.

Balkhi couldn’t get that damn door open quickly enough, in Wilkes’ opinion.

Just pulled into a parking space downstairs. I’m here! H x

Balkhi would have to buzz him into the building—apparently they’d had issues with anti-social behaviour in the past, so the only people that could access the building now, even the communal areas, were those with keys.

Returning his phone to his pocket, Wilkes began gathering his belongings from the front of the car, before exiting and moving around to the boot. Popping it open, he retrieved his weekend bag, then closed up and locked the vehicle. Looking around—fortunately the car park was well-lit, so he could see where he was going—he spotted one of the doors that stood between him and his boyfriend. He strode purposefully towards it, not wanting to waste any more time—they only had the weekend together.

As he reached the outer door, he realised he wouldn’t need to be buzzed in, after all. Standing just on the other side, visible through the glass, was Balkhi. The Afghan swung the door open so quickly that Wilkes had to jump back to avoid being smacked in the face.

Balkhi gasped. “Shit, sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Wilkes replied, shrugging.

Then, unexpectedly, there was silence. Wilkes’ heart pounded again. Crap—what was going on? Since when did the two of them have nothing to say to each other? Then he realised—it wasn’t that they had nothing to say, it was that they had so much to say that apparently neither of them could decide how to begin. There was also the fact they were in public to consider.