Yay! Avery was back to working on Shipwreck this past weekend.
Are you ready to find out if the kiss happened? Would Foster be so lucky to get a taste of the SEAL? Well…guess what…if you read below, you will get the answers to your questions *grins*
Before we get into the story, let’s review the rules:
- All stories must be 500-1000 words.
- They must include a prompt.
The prompt Avery used for this story was “…get swept away with your emotions.”
Hope you enjoy!
Will’s brain shut down at Foster’s request. Had he heard correctly? Foster was asking permission to kiss him? No man had ever asked before. For anything. Sex for Will was fucking, and did not involve kissing. It was a quick and dirty affair, where consent was implied.
Foster rubbed his stubbled cheek against Will’s, bringing him back to the present. “Are you with me, big guy? I was just asking for a simple kiss.”
And suddenly Will knew the meaning of that ridiculous saying “has the cat got your tongue?” Cause Luna sure must have his. There was no other reason to explain why he couldn’t formulate a simple yes or no answer to such an easy question.
“Let me guess…you’re having trouble because I’m so damn irresistible that words don’t exist to express how enamored you are of me?”
Will shook his head. Geez, what was his problem? More like what was Foster’s problem? His head had to be wider than the doorway… how did I carry him into my bedroom, and why did I do that, again? If he’d just plunked him down on the couch, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Was craving Foster’s touch such a bad thing? Sure, he was an independent guy, who didn’t need a man. What was wrong with wanting one?
Apparently, he’d taken too long to decide. Foster’s lips lightly brushed his. ToWill’s surprise, Foster slipped his tongue inside, gently exploring. The kiss was soft, not rushed or passionate. Their tongues danced, learning and seeking. After several moments, Foster pulled back.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Will stumbled, getting up from the bed. He started pacing. He paused on the far side of the room and looked at Foster over his shoulder. “No, sailor, it wasn’t bad.”
Foster’s shoulders drooped. “Gee, thanks. You know…well, never mind.”
Exasperated with himself and Foster, Will tried to recover. “Look, this isn’t something I do every day. Hell, not even every month.” Rubbing his shaved head, he continued, “Besides, I know squat about you other than your boat somehow sank and I pulled your drowning ass out of the bay.”
Foster fell back on the bed with a sigh. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you, Will.” His voice projected disappointment and hurt. “You know, it’s okay to talk about how things make you feel. I’m not asking you to get swept away with your emotions.”
Suddenly, Will felt like he’d kicked someone’s puppy. He hadn’t meant to hurt Foster. Hell, maybe he should explain that this was all new territory for him. Being a SEAL didn’t leave time for lasting relationships. Sure, he knew how to bark out orders. But he didn’t have the polish or finesse to have a post make-out talk with Foster.
“Maybe now would be a good time for that shower…that is, if you trust me to use your bathroom.” Foster sat up, still sullen.
Where the hell were his manners? “Of course you can.” He walked out of the bedroom and down the hall. “The only full bath is out here,” he called over his shoulder. He walked inside and opened the door to the linen closet, pulling out a clean towel and washcloth. Will turned and found Foster waiting. “I’ll look for some clean clothes for you while you’re in here.”
Foster nodded, his mood subdued. “That would be appreciated. Thank you.”
Will brushed past Foster on his way out. “I’m sorry, Foster…I’m no good at this.”
Foster waved his hand and quietly closed the door.
Way to go, asshole! You better find some way to fix this while he’s in there. “If only it was as easy as it sounded,” Will muttered on his way to the bedroom. Too bad he hadn’t taken after his mother. She’d been born with the gift of gab, and always knew what to say, no matter the occasion. While Will got her eyes and her smile, all his other traits came from his father.
He rummaged through his dresser drawers, looking for sweats, and a T-shirt he’d shrunk in the wash. His clothes would hang on Foster. The man was nearly skin and bones.
“Ah ha!” He grinned. He’d stumbled on a soft Denver Broncos T-shirt. Will hadn’t worn it in ages, but he couldn’t bear to part with it either. He’d gotten it on a college road trip. The shirt held a lot of memories—of carefree fun and excitement.
The sweatpants were proving harder. And he didn’t have anything close in the way of underwear. Will preferred to go commando, so the few boxers he did have would fall off Foster’s lean hips. What to do?
Oh, perfect idea! Last week, he’d bought a pair of blue-and-green striped swim trunks without bothering to try them on first. Turned out they were mislabeled. They were definitely not an extra-large—more like a medium. They should fit Foster perfectly, and he wouldn’t need underwear with the mesh liner.
Will walked back toward the bathroom, contemplating how to win the man back. He knocked softly on the door before opening it. “Foster, I’ve set some clothes right inside the door for you.”
A polite “thank you” sounded from the shower.
Still with the polite stuff. Sheesh!
Will’s stomach rumbled, reminding him it had been some time since he’d had breakfast. Poor Foster had only gotten to eat several pieces of bacon, so he had to be hungry.
He knocked on the door once again before leaning in to yell, “Foster, come out to the deck when you’re finished.”
After he heard a meek “okay,” Will headed to the kitchen.
The man liked meat, so meat he would get. Will intended to grill the steaks he had in the fridge. Surely that should get him back in Foster’s good graces.
to be continued…
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