Aaron hummed contentedly as he walked along the white-painted corridor towards the locker room. He was happy in his job as a hospital porter. He might not be saving lives, like his doctor boyfriend, Blake, but he liked to think he was improving them. He made the effort with the patients he transported around—or the ones that were well enough to hold a conversation with him, anyway. He chatted to them, showed an interest, tried to make them laugh, always remained positive, even when things were bleak. That was his way of spreading a little cheer, or helping someone forget their worries, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was a small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless, and it made him feel good.
The corridor stretched on, and Aaron thought for the umpteenth time that it could do with some artwork on the walls—something other than doors to break up the interminable expanse of white paint and grey dado rail. But patients never came to this area of the building—unless they were lost—so there was no need to spend any more money on it than was absolutely necessary. Aaron understood that, but boy did it make for a dull walk to the locker room.
As he continued his journey, he saw that a supply cupboard door on the left hand side of the corridor was ajar. It was nothing unusual—people often propped doors open with their feet if they were just leaning in to grab something, or used something as a door stop if they needed both hands to carry what they’d come to collect and therefore couldn’t open the door again to let themselves out.
Reaching the door, he’d just opened his mouth to call out and ask whoever it was if they needed help, when the gap grew wider. A white-clad arm appeared and the accompanying hand grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him roughly into the cupboard.
Aaron didn’t even get chance to finish his exclamation, as he’d been slammed against the now-closed cupboard door, and hard, demanding lips were pressed to his. Lips, he realised, as his brain caught up with the turn of events, that belonged to Doctor Blake Colville. Lips that were allowed to kiss his, thank God!
The fresh, spicy scent of Blake’s cologne invaded Aaron’s nostrils, and he relaxed into the kiss, returned it with enthusiasm. Blake’s tongue sought entrance to Aaron’s mouth, and he gave it willingly, moaning as their tongues slipped and tangled together sensuously, and Blake’s firm, lithe body pinned his slightly-more-muscular one against the cool wood of the door. He stifled any further moans that wanted to sneak out, remembering that, hot as the situation was, it was also pretty precarious, and both of them could get into serious trouble if they were caught. Patients may not frequent this area of the building, but the staff sure did.
Reaching out, he gripped the lapels of Blake’s white coat and pulled, so their bodies were crushed together and their kiss grew bruisingly brutal—in a good way.
The move had clearly fanned the flames of Blake’s lust, because he began grinding his crotch against Aaron’s, teasing their already erect cocks and pushing them both rapidly towards the point of no return.
But could there be a point of no return, given where they were? How on earth would they get away with making love—or, in this case, should it be fucking?–in a supply cupboard in the hospital? Granted, it was one of the quieter areas of the building, but bloody hell…
Even as he continued to kiss Blake, Aaron’s mind—curse his practical nature—went over and over the dilemma. He desperately wanted to continue with what they were doing, and see where it led, but there were so many what ifs.
Torn, he eventually used his grip on Blake’s lapels to push him away. “Blake,” he said breathlessly, blinking rapidly to try and fight the fog of lust that threatened to overwhelm him, “much as I want to, we can’t do this here. What if we’re needed—?”
“We won’t be,” Blake said, a glint of amusement in his pale blue eyes. “Your shift is finished, and mine isn’t due to start for another hour—I came in early on purpose so I could have my wicked way with you. Nobody will be calling on us, no lives are in danger, and no patients are stranded. I promise. Just relax.” He cupped Aaron’s jaw. “Enjoy your birthday treat.”
But Blake had cut his words off once more by capturing Aaron’s lips in a smouldering kiss. He had so many questions buzzing around his head, and it was clear that Blake wasn’t going to let him voice them. No, Doctor Colville had made his intentions completely plain—and who was Aaron to disagree? He was right, after all. Neither of them was on the clock, and they weren’t hurting anyone, so a dalliance in a cupboard was nothing more than naughty fun. Not to mention excellent fantasy fodder for future reference. One for the wank bank, as Blake was fond of saying.
It’d certainly make it a birthday to remember, anyway. Particularly since his original plans had involved going home, crashing out for a few hours, opening his cards and presents, making his ‘thank you’ phone calls, then chilling out and watching TV for a while before it was time to get showered and ready for his next night shift. Due to work schedule clashes, he and Blake would be the proverbial ships that passed in the night until the weekend, which was when they’d decided to celebrate his birthday properly.
Casting all the questioning and negative thoughts aside, he took Blake’s advice—or had it been a command?—and relaxed, preparing to enjoy his birthday treat.
Picking up where they left off, their kiss deepened, the atmosphere in the tiny space growing more charged by the second. Aaron had to resist the temptation to reach inside Blake’s pristine white coat, tug his equally pristine shirt from his waistband and explore his amazing body. Had the roles been reversed and Blake was the one on his way home, he’d have had no such qualms, but Doctor Colville had to look put together and professional in order to reassure his patients. A medical professional who turned up to work looking like he’d been dragged backwards through a bush—or had had an illicit encounter in a supply cupboard—would not inspire much confidence. And the powers that be would not be too impressed if they found out, either.
So he kept his hands safely on Blake’s hips, outside of the white coat. Instead, he took his sexual frustration out on his lover’s mouth, sucking and nibbling at his lips, and thrusting his tongue roughly inside.
The gesture was not lost on Blake, who gave as good as he got—more so, given he could afford to mess up Aaron’s hair and clothing a little. Shifting his hand into Aaron’s dark, chin-length curls, he tugged roughly, jerking Aaron’s head back and breaking their kiss. Moving his lips close to Aaron’s ear, he murmured, “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
With that, he trailed kisses down from Aaron’s earlobe and along his exposed neck, leaving a line of fire wherever their skin touched. He stopped once he got to the collar of Aaron’s navy blue T-shirt, and growled. “Take it off, Aaron.”
Surprised that Blake was willing to risk any kind of undressing in their situation, he nonetheless did as he was told. Before he could put the garment down anywhere, Blake snatched it from his trembling fingers and spread it out on the floor at Aaron’s feet.
With a smirk, Blake then ran his hands over Aaron’s bare torso, tugging lightly at the plentiful hair on his pecs, sending delicious darts of pain zinging through Aaron’s nerve endings, before making his way lower, and lower. When his hands reached Aaron’s belt, Blake gave him a quick kiss before kneeling down, making sudden sense of the placement of the T-shirt. He wouldn’t get any telltale dusty or dirty marks on the knees of his trousers that way. Smart man.
With every second that passed, Aaron’s arousal increased. And now, as Blake undid his trousers, lowering them, along with his boxers, to the floor, he already felt as though he was at boiling point. At this rate, his birthday treat wasn’t going to last very long at all. He was going to explode like the most enthusiastic kind of party popper.
Glancing up at Aaron from beneath hooded lids, Blake threw him an utterly filthy smile before licking his lips. Taking Aaron’s rigid cock in his fist, Blake pumped it a couple of times, then sunk his mouth over the tip, engulfing it in wet heat.
Snatching in a sharp breath through his nostrils, Aaron bit his lip to prevent any sounds from leaking out as Blake began to tease and titillate him. His skilled mouth worked over Aaron’s sensitive cockhead and around its rim, sucking, slurping and licking, sending shots of pleasure rushing through him. He locked his knees, hoping they wouldn’t give out on him, and clenched his fists at his sides. Damn, it was so fucking hard not to reach out, to touch Blake in some way. It felt weird, but he had no choice. Tangling his hands in Blake’s thick dark hair wasn’t an option, and nor was holding onto his shoulders. Either way he’d be unable to stop himself tightening his grip as he succumbed to his climax, leaving Blake with either messy hair, or strange, inexplicable creases on the shoulders of his white coat.
Instead he concentrated on staying upright as Blake continued sucking him off, his movements growing faster and rougher all the time. The sensations were amazing, and the heat in Aaron’s groin increased, the tingling in his balls telling him that it wouldn’t be too long before he came. Normally he’d have tried to hold back, but they didn’t have the luxury of time, so when Blake cupped his balls and began gently tugging and rolling them, he let nature take its course.
Jerking his hand up to his mouth, he bit down on his knuckles as pleasure slammed into him. The tingles in his balls exploded out, and he gasped as his cock twitched and throbbed, his cum shooting into Blake’s eager mouth, where it was hurriedly but enthusiastically swallowed.
Pleasure held him in its grasp for several more delicious seconds, and by the time he felt able to remove his weight from the door behind him and stand unaided, Blake had pulled his mouth from Aaron’s softening cock.
Standing, Blake reached out and cupped his jaw again, forcing Aaron to meet his gaze. Fire still burned there, but there was also satisfaction. “You all right, birthday boy?”
Huffing out a breath, Aaron nodded. “Yes, thank you. That was fucking amazing. I just wish I could return the favour. Or just do… something… you know?”
It was Blake’s turn to nod. “Yeah, I know. But don’t worry,” his kiss-and-blowjob-swollen lips curved up in a sinful smile, “you can make it up to me at the weekend. We’re both off work, remember? So we can do what we like, when we like. For two whole days.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Nor can I, babe. Nor can I. Now,” he glanced at his watch, “come here and give me another kiss, then get your sexy arse home. We can’t mess around in supply cupboards all day. Some of us have work to do.”
Aaron grinned as the gap between them closed once more. He didn’t often wish away time—in his job, he knew just how precious it was, saw it first hand on a daily basis—but he’d make an exception for Blake. Especially when it came to having two whole days together. His imagination was already running away with him. Oh, the possibilities…