A Pit Stop

“Are you embarrassed by me, Grant?”

Josh’s voice is quiet; that low, growling pitch that, depending on the circumstance, either has Grant pleased he’s rarely on Josh’s bad side, or falling to his knees in reverent worship the way only he gets to worship Josh.

“What? ‘Course not,” Grant replies quickly, wondering where Josh is going with this, and also what he’s done wrong. He’s been so tense about taking Josh home to meet his family, that he’s spent the week leading up to it overthinking every step, and overplanning every word.

“Then why,” Josh continues, slowly, making Grant’s heart thud loud, “do you repeatedly keep stepping away from me, as though I am not to be seen with you?”

Grant darts his eyes down the aisle of the supermarket they’re in and steps away from the cart he’s pushing, hands dropping to his sides. “Josh,” he begins, guiltily, trying to work out what to say, and coming up with nothing.

He feels tight, on edge being in his hometown, that’s full of narrow-minded people he’d avoided as much contact with as possible when growing up. And though his parents and sisters have welcomed Josh with open arms, there’s been several sets of other disapproving eyes on them wherever they’ve been. So perhaps he is holding back; not reaching for Josh in the usual affection he does when they’re back in their own home. He’s not meaning to do it, but if he’s hurting Josh by doing it—which Grant knows he must be doing from the look on his face—then he’s got to snap out of it, meant or not.

“Shit. Sorry, Josh. It’s not intentional at all,” and to prove his point, Grant leans over to Josh and gives him a sweet, apologetic kiss. Josh remains as still as stone.

“I’m sorry,” Grant whispers against Josh’s lips, then kissing along his cheek, and the edge of his jaw where he feels it clench beneath him. He has no problem with being seen with Josh in public, not one.

Josh nudges him until his back is against the shelves behind him, and Grant is convinced the entire thing rocks from the force of it. But he’s not caring at all; he’s too busy trying to keep up with Josh’s tongue as it fights its way around his mouth, and Josh’s hips as they grind up against him in claim.

Here? Do you have to, Grant?”

Grant feels Josh’s mouth pause, feels the indignance of being interrupted churning through his entire body, before he steps away from Grant and straightens his shirt for him from where he’s rucked it up. Josh turns away, indifferent, walking down the aisle behind Deacon, the owner of the store, who stands, glaring at Grant.

“Grant,” Deacon hisses, reaching up and covering his eyes in a sure sign of trying to keep his tongue in check. “I’ve got no problem with you or your boyfriend. But that shelving’s on its last legs; getting the whole place refurbed next month. And if that thing collapses on someone the other side with you two doing… whatever you were about to do, it’s on your head.”

Grant’s face burns with how much he’s blushing. Deacon’s been serving him since he’s been old enough to go to the store by himself. He mumbles an apology, bows his head to avoid eye contact, and pushes the cart to the checkout, where Tina, the store assistant helping Deacon, beams at him in mirth as she rings up his purchases.

Josh is folded armed and flush-cheeked against the side of the car when Grant gets outside, glancing at him guiltily as he begins to fill the trunk.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of—”

Grant presses Josh up against the car and kisses him hard, humming softly as Josh’s arms loop around him.

“I know you didn’t,” Grant agrees when they pull back, nuzzling against him.

“I know I shouldn’t let myself get insecure about this kind of stuff, and—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grant smiles, kissing him again. “I’m sorry I did anything to make you feel insecure.”

Josh sighs, nodding, fingers toying with Grant’s shirt as they always do when he’s feeling a little out of his depth. But then he’s kissing him again, and this time it’s gentle, taking what they need from each other and forgetting everything else. And when they pull back again, there are easier smiles for them both.

“I still want you,” Josh tells him with a squeeze around his waist, and intent in his eye that leaves Grant swallowing awkwardly.

“And you can still have me,” Grant promises with a wink. “Just… maybe not right here.”

“It’s not like we can go back to your parents and disappear upstairs with some lame excuse,” Josh sighs, his thumb sneaking in between them, discreetly brushing along his length.

“No, it’s not,” Grant agrees, wide-eyed that Josh would even do that in the middle of this parking lot when he doesn’t ever do stuff like that back home. But then he gets an idea that’s likely to get them both into trouble, and he can’t think of anything else. “C’mon.”

Grant drives them to the edge of town where there’s a mid-sized restaurant sharing a parking lot with a new supermarket he’s adamant wasn’t here the last time he visited. Grant grabs Josh’s hand the moment they’re out of the car and tugs him forward, keeping his head down, determined not to see anyone he knows. He drags him inside, then once more into a restroom, and firmly bolts the door behind them.

Josh’s eyes are wide in surprise for all of a second, but then there’s a triumphant smile on his face. And as he saunters towards Grant he’s already unbuttoning himself, never taking his eyes off Grant’s, pressing on his shoulders wordlessly asking him to kneel, then utters a single instruction. “Suck.”

Which of course, Grant does, more than willingly. He pushes down Josh’s jeans and boxers further, gripping his fingers into his cheeks and kneading one minute, then cupping his balls gently the next. He licks, sucks, and teases in all the ways he knows Josh likes, then pulls off him to suck his own fingers into his mouth, and slowly presses one into Josh’s hole as he takes him back in his mouth.

Josh grunts, rocking forward a little as Grant strokes his finger slowly in and out whilst lapping his tongue over his head. But Josh wants more, apparently, because he pulls Grant up abruptly, backing him against the door and kissing him hungrily, as he unbuttons Grant’s jeans and shoves them down, boxers and all, as far as they will go.

He strokes him a little, grinning at the groan Grant gives in response, and then turns to look around the room in a sort of panic. Relief is instant; his eyes fall upon a vending machine, and he hits it in a way that makes a packet of lube and three strawberry flavored condoms fall out into the sink below. Grant’s cock twitches at the sight.

Josh tosses the condoms away—one of the many perks of being in a committed relationship for coming up to three years now—and turns back to Grant with a look of pure intent. Grant gulps at the sound of the packet being ripped open, and Josh does this magic thing that Grant loves; at least, he thinks it’s magic, it feels magic even though it’s probably not. But Grant is babbling to himself either way as Josh systematically slips his fingers slowly inside him one at a time, in time with his tongue thrusting into Grant’s mouth. Grant rocks down on Josh’s fingers, giving a little whine when the angle strikes just right against his prostate.

“I need to see you,” Josh says hastily, before somehow pulling one of Grant’s legs free so he’s standing with his clothes flapping around the other leg only. And then Grant’s holding on to whatever he can, as Josh lifts and spreads him wide open, slowly pressing into him with a long, appreciative groan.

Josh pauses for just enough time for Grant to adjust then is staking his claim, as fast and hard as he can without breaking either Grant or the sink he’s somehow gripping on to and fucking Grant up against. It’s not the most comfortable of positions, but it works. It’s efficient, hitting all the right angles in all the good spots, with them both muffling their groans in each other’s necks, just about conscious of the noise traveling beyond the door of the restaurant bathroom.

After, when Josh wipes Grant down, swiping away his come from between their chests with the bathroom tissue that’s sticking to him in chunks, the look in Josh’s eye is smug and thankful. They straighten each other up both grimacing at the mess they’ve made of each other, mumbling about how good a shower would be right now if they could only find an excuse for it when they get back to the house.

When they’re outside, Josh presses Grant gently against the wall outside the bathroom with one last long kiss, humming against his lips before pulling back with a smile.

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Getting Lucky

**previously published on Hot Chili Erotica** – suffice to say, this is not safe for work…


I am not this lucky.

Lewis stares up at his bedroom ceiling in a silence that only comes of it being the middle of the night, and lets his fingers creep across the mattress, until they come into the reassuring contact that is skin on warm skin.

Sebastian doesn’t even stir.

But even though there is bare skin right there beneath his fingertips, Lewis still doesn’t believe it, has to turn his head to the side to make sure there really is a warm body beside him in his bed, that his imagination is not that cruel, and is not actually taunting him with nothing but wishful thinking.

Because Sebastian looks like something out of a wet dream, yet is also someone who is warm, fun to be with, and smart as hell too. Those things don’t usually go together well in any good kind of combination, Lewis knows this from past experience. He still finds himself holding his breath, waiting for someone to tell him what the catch is. To tell him he doesn’t have the right to this at all.

It’s been eight months since his cousin introduced them, and from that first glimpse of hazel eyes and perfectly-styled hair, Lewis has been hooked. One well-behaved first date later, and Sebastian had invited him over for dinner. Somewhere between the main and dessert—because of course, Sebastian is incredible at cooking too—he’d led Lewis over to the sofa, spread his legs wide, and sucked him off with such skill, Lewis suspects he’s been ruined for life for anyone else.

And Sebastian knows this; Lewis sees it in the glint in his eyes when he’s unzipping him beneath the table at their local bar. He feels it in Sebastian’s palm when he’s got them slicked up and is fisting them together in the shower, making them both late for work. And he knows, from the late night messages he gets of Sebastian’s spent cock, cum pooling on his stomach and beginning to slide its way down his side, with the accompanying message this is what thinking of you does to me…

Sebastian also knows, it seems, when Lewis is not able to get back to sleep.

Fingers thread between his own where they’re steepled against Sebastian’s thigh, and there’s a soft yawn and a slight stretch, before Sebastian is arching against the bed, and waking himself up.

“Don’t,” Lewis whispers, because he never meant to wake Sebastian with his sudden rush of insecurities. But Sebastian is already awake, gripping his fingers softly, and anchoring Lewis there beside him without even needing him to ask for it.

“Lewis,” Sebastian says, his voice gruffer than it is by daylight, and gravel enough to have Lewis’ cock stir. He adds nothing else, but that grumbling of his name is enough to send a shot of desire flaring through Lewis, leaving him shifting as he begins to stir.

“Go back to sleep,” Lewis tells him softly, rolling on to his side as though that might stop the way he’s reacting, and pressing a light kiss to Sebastian’s shoulder as he loosens his fingers from beneath Sebastian’s, resting them on his stomach instead.

Sebastian shifts a little, humming with approval as he slots his fingers through Lewis’ against his skin. “Why can’t you sleep?”

With a shake of his head, Lewis kisses Sebastian’s shoulder again, splays his fingers to touch as much of him at once as possible, and rolls forward further until his front is pressing fully against his side. Sebastian circles his wrist to free it in the slight gap between them, wraps his hand around Lewis’s immediately interested cock, and gives a lazy pull.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Lewis tells him, his voice catching at the feel of Sebastian’s fingers around him, and that heat surging through as he hardens against his palm.

“But now we’re both awake,” Sebastian adds, with a long, languid stroke, and Lewis is lost. And thankful. And so utterly helpless when it comes to resisting Sebastian – and that voice he’s using right now.

Lewis slides his hand up Sebastian’s chest as Sebastian’s tumbles to the bed, grazing his fingers in circles over each of his nipples in turn, continuing the kisses to his shoulder, and smiling there as Sebastian arches up a little at his touch. Lewis lifts his head, trailing kisses up Sebastian’s neck that he echoes with soft bites, then down his throat to nuzzle, and finally settles his chin against his sternum, where he scratches his stubbled chin, looking up at Sebastian in expectation.

A second later, Sebastian has reached out to switch the light on so they can see each other properly, and is staring down at him with a smirk on his face that has Lewis’ breath quickens, making his cock give another twitch right there against Sebastian’s thigh.

“I don’t have a single objection to you continuing,” Sebastian tells him, and Lewis hears the lust there in his tone that just spurs him on. So Lewis does just that, wasting no time at all in sliding his way down Sebastian’s body, wrapping his hands lightly around his waist, and grazing his teeth and tongue over hipbones that, quite honestly, have been distracting Lewis since day one. Sebastian gives a low hum of approval, and Lewis manages a single, pained swallow, as Sebastian begins to swell and thicken under his attention, mere inches from Lewis’ mouth.

Another shift, and Lewis is bracing himself against the bed, hands flat on the sheets as he blows softly over Sebastian’s head, smiling at the way it jolts in response. Lewis is flicking his tongue out a second later, groaning in answer to Sebastian’s own, lapping against him, relishing the smooth hardness of his crown, and the way his slit glistens and leaks so quickly just from only those barest beginning of touches.

Lewis presses a kiss to his tip, unmoving and waiting for Sebastian to look at him again. And when he does, Lewis opens his mouth and slides down, lips stretching over that ridge, down his shaft, until Sebastian’s cock head is bumping at the back of this throat. Lewis hollows out his cheeks and sucks hard, groaning to himself at the way Sebastian’s thighs flex in answer, and how he’s reduced to these short, sharp breaths that are saying how good Lewis’ mouth feels on him.

Another hard suck and Lewis pulls off, but instantly takes Sebastian in his mouth again, starting up a slow, thorough slide up and down his shaft, one he continues without breaking eye contact, and always taking in as much of Sebastian as he can. He shifts a little to adjust his weight against the bed, and Sebastian echoes the movement to get more comfortable, splaying his legs a little wider to give him easier access. Then Lewis is pulling off altogether, nuzzling into Sebastian’s base, laving a long lick all the way up his length along the vein that Lewis swears tastes different to the rest of his shaft, and then over his head again, before kissing his way back down.

Lewis ghosts wet, open mouthed kisses up and down Sebastian, earning him whines of protest for more, a thrusting of hips that asks Lewis to swallow him down again, and fingers that grip frantically through his hair, pulling him ever closer, gentle but insistent. Lewis looks up at Sebastian, winks, and swallows him down as far as he can once more, smiling around him as Sebastian arches, groans, and trembles beneath him.

Lewis breathes out steadily in an effort to relax, takes in a little more of Sebastian’s cock, and pauses through the reflex of his throat to fight the intrusion of his cock head. Instantly, as though begging and inviting more, Sebastian parts his legs wider still; Lewis adjusts himself so he’s still comfortable then pulls off, slow, teasing, before swallowing down again, a little deeper.

Sebastian groans his name as Lewis continues this slow, controlled swallowing of him down, until his throat is full, and he’s having to breath out through his nose. There is a pause as Lewis settles himself, and then he’s swallowing around him, closing his eyes at the barrage of praise and obscenities it squeezes out of Sebastian as his throat constricts around his cock.

Lewis shifts his head slightly, grazes his thumbs lightly against Sebastian’s sides, wordlessly tells him what he wants him to do next. Sebastian is gasping, feet braced against the bed as he fucks up into Lewis’ mouth, his fingers twitching through his hair as he fights the urge to go rougher and faster.

Sebastian loves this; Lewis learned early on that deepthroating Sebastian is a surefire way to earn him whatever sexual favours he wants in return, and has also on three separate occasions led to breakfast in bed, as well as several lazy Sundays where he’d been left so spent, he’d barely been able to move. So Lewis holds on as long as he can through Sebastian’s thrusts and gasps, ignoring his own need as much as is possible, torture when he’s aching and leaking, hanging heavily between his legs.

But Sebastian knows Lewis well enough to notice the way he braces himself to try to hide the trembles surging through his arms, the shallowing of Lewis’ breath that says he’s getting tired, the slight rasping through the moan Lewis is giving that says his jaw is beginning to ache.

So Sebastian is moving, gently tugging on Lewis’ hair to tell him to pull off, then gripping him around the shoulders once he does and dragging him up the bed, on to his back. Sebastian kisses him hard, desperate, thrusting his tongue into Lewis’ mouth repeatedly in the most dirty of kisses Lewis thinks he’s ever been on the receiving end of. Yet another thing he’s come to really, really like about this man.

Sebastian’s hand is on him, thumb swiping up the precum leaking, and gripping him firm, fisting him at a pace that is going to bring Lewis over the edge in just seconds if it continues at that speed.

But it doesn’t.

Because Sebastian is shifting again, hand fumbling around in the drawer beside the bed and pulling out the lube that they’re getting through at a rate that talks of how much they love fucking each other. Sebastian coats his fingers; Lewis closes his eyes expecting the cool gel to graze over the pucker of his hole any second, but instead feels the bed dip either side of him. He opens his eyes instantly to Sebastian kneeling over him, and before he can comment or offer encouragement, Sebastian is spearing himself open, as though he is just desperate to be filled.

Lewis is helpless but to hold on to Sebastian’s hips and tilt him so he can watch more easily as Sebastian’s fingers arch and scissor him open, with accompanying moans that just make Lewis leak. And then Sebastian is lowering himself to straddle Lewis’ lap, holding himself open with one hand, and guiding Lewis cock with the other, until it’s slipping inside of him with a slick slide.

They both moan softly as Sebastian sinks down, until he’s fully seated and gasping. The tightness is narrowing Lewis’ focus to nothing but the feel of Sebastian squeezing around him, and Lewis’ hips are jerking of their own accord as Sebastian circles his hips to get comfortable, bracing his hand against Lewis’ chest.

Lewis splays his hands wide around Sebastian’s thighs, the tightness of strained muscles beneath his palms adding to the force behind the groan that escapes his lips from just how very good Sebastian feels clenching around him. Sebastian circles his hips a couple of times, groaning himself at the feeling of Lewis deep inside him, and then raises himself until Lewis’ cock head is catching and lightly tugging against his rim, only just keeping him in place.

Sebastian pauses, smirks, waits, because he knows how hungry Lewis is to look down at where their bodies are joined, at where Sebastian is now sinking down on him again and filling himself up. He does it again; raising himself slowly, his neck arching at the drag of Lewis inside him, pausing then lowering himself once more.

Lewis’ hands fall as though boneless to the sheets, his feet flush against the bed, knees spread. He spreads them further, and the movement as Sebastian sinks down on him again has Sebastian grunting and cursing out. Lewis curls his fingers to grip onto the sheets, eyes intently on himself slipping in and out of Sebastian, as Sebastian rides him slowly, his head thrown back with these soft moans that Lewis swears go straight to his own cock.

Sebastian brings up a hand to wrap around himself; Lewis’s mouth dries as he watches Sebastian circle his thumb over his own head and moan out loud again. Sebastian slicks himself up, finding a rhythm to fuck into his hand as he fucks himself down on Lewis, the most delicious of noises escaping out of him, until Lewis has to start taking some for himself.

Lewis raises his hands again, grips hard around Sebastian’s hips, braces his feet against the bed and thrusts up at the angle he’s learned will have Sebastian crying out his name. The stuttering, breathy Lewis he hears is the confirmation he needs to go harder, to grip tighter, to pound up into Sebastian without any further holding back at all.

Lewis is chasing Sebastian’s reaction every time his cock head glances over his prostate, eyes fixed on the way his lips form these little ohs each, and every time another one escape has Lewis gasping himself. Pretty soon Lewis is lost to chasing that warmth spreading out through his core that’s sending sparks and jolts of pleasure through him, urging him to drive up harder, grip tighter, take more, and he is lost to thinking of anything else but being inside Sebastian.

Sebastian is clearly eager for even more himself, slamming his hips down against Lewis’ thrusts, calling out a litany of dirty encouragement, grunting and groaning out one long, wordless sound. It is always at this point when they’re together like this when both of them lose control, littering the air with gasps of encouragement and the rapid slap of skin on flushed skin.

But Sebastian, it seems, has other ideas, ideas that mean prolonging this even more than they already have done at this early hour of the morning. He presses a hand firmly against Lewis’ sternum, wordlessly asking him to slow, and Lewis does that instantly, panting hard with exertion, pressing his ass back against the bed to fight against the way his own hips twitch for him to take even more.

Sebastian takes a stuttering breath, and then he’s back to raising himself slowly, sliding down on Lewis’ cock even slower, and circling his hips, the movements deliberate and slow so they can both feel every drag of Lewis’ cock deep inside him, making them both moan out long, desperate gasps.

Lewis watches Sebastian fighting against going faster, short, stabbing breaths speaking of the effort it’s taking him to keep this slow, to enjoy every languid thrust and stroke. Sebastian leans down for another kiss; there is something about being buried inside Sebastian like this and barely moving when they’re kissing, that has Lewis’ stomach jolt and flip in the most delicious of ways.

Sebastian raises and eases himself down on Lewis then, flaring his hips insistently so that Lewis is as deep inside him as he possibly can get. Lewis answers by fucking up into him at that just right, practised angle, and Sebastian grinds down on him hard, whimpering, and shakily wrapping his hands around Lewis shoulders to hold on.

Lewis holds on for as long as he can, but the heat is too much, Sebastian feels so good, so tight around him, and he needs to chase his release right now, because any longer feels impossible. Sebastian’s fingers tighten, and he’s spreading his knees a little wider, slamming his hips hard down on Lewis unrelenting, urging him to keep going, and looking just as desperate as Lewis feels.

Lewis’s grip around Sebastian’s waist as he fucks up into him is brutal enough to leave marks, and knowing how Sebastian will admire and smirk at the marks in the mirror and then kiss him for it just encourages Lewis on even more, bucking and driving up into him, crying out Sebastian’s name as he writhes and rocks on his lap.

Sebastian shifts and begins to fist himself faster, his desperate grip on Lewis’ shoulder slipping as he rides Lewis as hard as he can, and then he’s tensing, groaning, hot white spurts covering his hand and painting a stripe across Lewis’ chest as he calls out in a broken, desperate moan. Lewis groans as Sebastian tightens around him, that fluttering feeling proving the final push to take him over the edge as well. He grips Sebastian harder, gives two, three sharp thrusts, and arches up on the bed into Sebastian with such force, that Sebastian is jostled forward, landing with a huff on Lewis’ chest as he slips.

Sebastian rights himself once he’s caught his breath a little, grinning down at Lewis in wicked triumph, circling his hips a little sloppily now that he is slick with Lewis cum. To see him doing that has Lewis dropping his head back against the pillow with a grunt, his hands sliding up Sebastian’s sides as he presses their chests together. Lewis feels a rush of what he thinks must be contentment, as Sebastian kisses the corner of his mouth, nuzzles against his jaw, and drops his head down on his shoulder with a deep, satisfied sigh.

“Does this count as you getting lucky?” Sebastian asks, the mirth-tinged words kissed into his neck.

Lewis looks up at him questioningly when Sebastian pulls back, and Sebastian nods, leans back again, pressing gentle kisses along Lewis’s jawline, before turning his head and pressing open mouth kisses along his neck. He takes the time to stop, lathe his tongue there, then bite hard enough to leave a tiny trace his own marks on Lewis’s skin, pulling back enough to swipe his thumb there and smirk at his handiwork.

“You were talking in your sleep. Again,” Sebastian murmurs into his ear when he bends back down, nuzzling at the sensitive skin just behind it and humming to himself.

“Uh…” Lewis stumbles out, embarrassed, his heart racing at how many times those insecurities might have slipped from his mouth unchecked.

“We’re doing this. We’re good,” Sebastian tells him, those earlier dirty kisses replaced with tender ones that have Lewis rooted to the spot, feeling cared for and wanted in ways he’s not sure he’s ever known in the past.

Sebastian smiles at Lewis adoringly then, as though he can read his very thoughts. He kisses him once more, long, and thorough, then holds on to Lewis’ arm as he leans over the bed to retrieve his t-shirt from earlier, and cleans them both up a little with a lazy, sleepy swipe.

Sebastian lays beside him then, insistently pressing against Lewis’s shoulder to turn him away, just to pull him back firmly against his chest and tuck in his knees behind Lewis’ own. His splays a hand across Lewis’ stomach, and Lewis can’t help feeling claimed, but only in the best kind of ways.

There are soft kisses that follow to the back of his neck, growing increasingly softer the closer Sebastian gets to falling asleep. Lewis hears a soft but determined mine muttered into his skin, and then he feels the slackening in Sebastian’s grip that announces he’s finally gone. Lewis breathes out deeply, smiling into the darkness and feeling thoroughly sated, allowing himself the luxury of thinking that perhaps, once in a while, he really does get to have this kind of luck.

With a tiny stretch to get comfortable, Lewis finally allows himself to relax, and lets Sebastian’s warmth around him lull him into a dreamless sleep.

In The Car

They have Josh’s younger brother staying with them for a long weekend, and in a surprising display of modesty, Grant had arrived home Friday night to a murmur from Josh about adjoining bedroom walls, barely able to contain a burst of laughter for Josh acting so out of character demure and only greeting him with a brief kiss on the cheek. But Josh’s comments about needing to keep their hands to themselves in Toby’s company, is apparently easier said than done for Josh. Because every spare second Toby’s been out of their sight, Josh is on him like a man starved. Grant’s not complaining, obviously, but he is thoroughly amused.

Toby hasn’t been out the car more than a second to pick up a book he’s ordered when Josh’s hand is in Grant’s jeans. Grant gulps in surprise, but he can’t help respond to Josh as he does, every single time. Besides, it’s technically been a few days.

Josh smirks knowingly over at him, pauses for a moment to lick his hand, then starts again, squeezing and pulling and stroking Grant in all the ways he’s learned will make him whimper the most. Grant’s head thumps back against the seat, his half-hearted protest long dead in his throat. His eyes drift down to watch Josh’s hand on him, and he moans, spreading his legs as far as the denim and confined space will allow.

Josh smears precum down his length, and Grant lets out a mumbled curse. He has a single thought of what a mess he’s about to make, but it seems Josh is a mind reader, because his mouth is then down and on him in less than a second.

Grant clenches and unclenches his hands, letting out a single grunt as he tries to writhe in his seat. He can’t move far; he’s being kept firmly in place by Josh’s forearm pressing hard into his thighs to keep him in place. Josh’s tongue swirls over his head, and he takes a moment to grin up at Grant, before sucking him down again. Grant lets out a grunt in response not having any words left in him.

He watches Josh bob his head up and down, feels himself building, wonders at his luck, and then comes with a soft huff of a groan, closing his eyes to the parking lot they’re idling the engine in since Toby had insisted he wouldn’t be long enough for them to have to pay to park.

Josh sucks him dry, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits back up, and then reaches over to re-button Grant, who feels like he might not even be able to drive.

When Toby returns to the car, he has to search for it, surprised that they’ve pulled into a space instead of idling by the side. He ducks to peer inside and finds Grant snoring softly in the front seat, and Josh curled against the window with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

Josh cracks one eye open as though he feels Toby watching, and his face morphs into a smug smile, seconds before he realizes he’s doing it. When his cheeks light up with blush, Toby snorts, thinking his brother still see him as a kid, and doesn’t know exactly what him and Grant would usually be doing if he wasn’t staying with them. He yanks the car door open hard enough to startle Grant awake, grins at him when he looks around, and stretches out on the back seat with a long suffering sigh.

No Way Out

The key turns in the lock of the front door and even from all the way up here, through wood, metal and plasterboard, it revs the engine of your heart, pounding it into fearful fight or flight life.

The duvet, moments ago warm and faking safety, now feels part clammy with fear and part shackled prison.

You’ve timed it. From key in door to foot in bedroom doorway takes around four minutes. So you have four minutes to go over your options.

One, lay there, pretend you are asleep. Sometimes that works.

Two, spring into elated partner-mode and greet them mid-stair, praying for a happy mood.

Three, just pray. To what, to who, you’re not quite sure anymore.

Four, check out. Go numb, passive, submissive, limp. You once learned in a talk on car accidents in school that you should never tense for impact. It only causes more damage.

Time does that cruel dance it often does where four minutes feels like both four seconds and four years simultaneously.

You’ve had time to go over your options and now you go over your whys.

Why is this happening?

When did everything go so wrong?

What did I do wrong?

Will tonight be the night that I…

A dry swallow is followed by a forced, shallow breath, and you screw your eyes up, wishing yourself away, anywhere, any other life.

Your mind races back to earlier, sunnier days when touch meant love, not bruises, and looks of promises for later meant cries of wanting, not of hurting.

When did it all go wrong?

When did you go wrong?

Memories of the way your left eye teared up and swelled, your cheekbone reverberating painful shoots up through your skull and down through your teeth. Of the agony of straightening up from the cramping bruising of your stomach and the Tim Burton-style rainbow of black, blue and yellow that you inspected later, wincing as the arnica you dabbed on got into your broken nail beds. Of how you should probably get that damp patch under the window at the bottom of the stairs checked; it’s funny what you notice when you’re winded, on your back, after falling down a full flight of stairs.

This is your fault.

You did this.

You made this happen.

There is no other way.

Memories of the vicious words in your ear reminding you to keep silent. Of pointed remarks in front of neighbours and possessive ones under the gaze of the A&E nurse. And your fake smile. Spread so wide you felt your cheeks might split open. Which they have done, from time to time.

No way out.

From the pillow through half-hooded eyes you watch as the handle on the door slowly lowers and the bottom of the door skims in deceptive gentleness against the soft carpet beneath it.

You hold your breath.

Please.

Let it be a good mood night.

(Originally on Inkiit and Tumblr)

Nothing More

It’s the wind. It’s the extractor fan rattling, a stiff breeze coming in through the closed front door. The cold whisper over your shoulders nothing more than a blast of cold air.

It’s the building. It’s the neighbours shuffling furniture, the brickwork expanding in the sun’s heat, poor workmanship that’s led to uneven, creaky floors. The knock on the desk beside you nothing more than its wood settling.

It’s you. Your overactive imagination sees shadows when there are none. Your irrational thought that’s conjuring disembodied sighs. And that prickling feeling over your skin is only because you’re overthinking. This feeling of not being alone nothing more than a trick of the mind.

But what if it is something more?

Who would you tell? Who would listen? Who wouldn’t scoff at the ideas that put an extra beat in your heart?

Out of the corner of your eye, the curtain twitches, a faint shimmer beside it looks like a person’s silhouette, and it feels as though it’s turning to you, and watching, just as hard as you’re watching back.

It’s your imagination. Nothing more than a trick of the light and an overactive mind. Nothing more than that.

On The Way Home

“I want you.”

There is nothing, no other words that Josh can say that make Grant’s knees give so quickly, and his dick stand to attention so instantly.

He breathes it out in the gravelly tone that Grant is helpless to resist, to the point where it’s gotten them into many a compromising situation when around other people. Like now, when they’re on the way home after a night out with friends, probably less than twenty minutes from the privacy of their own apartment, and apparently Josh can’t wait.

“I want you,” he repeats, and Grant’s already dry mouth causes his throat to catch.

“Okay,” is all Grant can manage to blurt out in answer. Josh is already tugging on his hand, leading him through the gates of a car park they’d normally avoid at this time of night, before he can do anything at all.

There are some trees conveniently nearby, and that is where they head. Josh presses Grant roughly back against one and hungrily licks his way into Grant’s mouth, leaving no room for objection. Not that Grant would ever object.

He’s unable to resist anything that Josh ever does to him, and that’s why by the time Josh is tugging open his fly he’s already hard. Josh hums in approval, stroking him over slowly and smiling against Grant’s mouth as he groans. Josh’s fingers disappear for a moment and Grant hears the ripping of a packet. A moment later, Josh’s cold, lubed fingers are exploring, and Grant sags a little, splaying his legs.

Josh works him open easily since it’s not all that long since he’s last been in him, and Grant soon finds himself impaled, biting hard on his own lip to stop the loud moan he’s fighting against letting escape. He’s going to have scratches on his back from the tree trunk where Josh has pushed his shirt up; Grant’s already looking forward to inspecting evidence of this little interlude on the way home later.

He closes his eyes, wrapping his legs high around Josh’s waist and clinging on for dear life as Josh pounds relentlessly into him. Grant has one last lucid thought of thanking his lucky stars that he’s lucked out with a guy that can pick him up like he weighs nothing, but then Josh adjusts his angle and bites down hard on his neck, and Grant can’t concentrate on anything else.

When

When the floorboards creak he freezes, tells his heart to cease its racing, reminds himself it’s an old house, with an old soul. Cracks and creaks are nothing but to be expected.

When the sigh breezes over his neck he cuts off the gasp that fires unchecked from his lips. Blames it on an open window, a cracked pane, a door ajar downstairs.

When the brush of an invisible hand skirts along his arm leaving goosebumps in his wake, he ceases fooling himself. Stumbles forward toward the doorway, holds his breath along the hall, down the stairs, intent on getting outside.

When the handle won’t turn, the door won’t budge, an invisible stare burns into his neck, he knows. His time is up, his moment has come, he is about to come to an end.

The question is, when?

Coming Home

Debra had learned to hold on to her emotions. Keep them so tight to her chest that they festered there, sending cruel words spitting out her mouth that she could use to safely mask what she was really feeling.

Emily felt nothing but sadness every time she saw Debra reining her feelings in. She watched, helpless as Debra’s walls flew up and her words flew out, channelling the only emotion Debra allowed herself to feel, which wasn’t even an emotion at all: ‘doing the right thing’, because in as long as she’d known her, Emily had never known Debra to give in to something she wanted if there was the slightest hint it might upset someone else.

With Emily, though, it was an entirely different thing altogether, it was getter harder and harder, to the point where she didn’t want to hold onto what she was feeling at all. But where to start?

Emily put up her own walls too. She had to, to keep herself in check. She couldn’t watch Debra seem to gear up to reach out then withdraw just like she’d been burned, without these walls to fix a mask on. And if her own walls were up, her own feelings couldn’t leak out. Not too much, anyway; at least, she could hope they wouldn’t.

Emily made her feel things. Made her want things Debra had told herself she would never be entitled to have, or even to want; that she’d never had the right to. Things that, in the darkness of night, she’d reveal in secret to her dead parents, imagining the outcome in any number of ways. Rejection. Disgust. Dismissal. But never in acceptance, or happily ever after, or just simple happiness.

Emily knew that Debra would deny herself anything she truly wanted because she didn’t feel she deserved it. All Emily wanted was for Debra to be happy. She wished Debra would let her be one of the things that made her happy but told herself over and over how selfish that was. Debra deserved the best of everything, and she, Emily, she had nothing really to offer Debra.

She wanted Emily. All of her; her friendship, her trust, her time. And though she had to whisper it to herself because this was a volatile emotion that did its best to erupt every time she saw her, she also wanted her love. All the kinds of love that were possible.

Emily wanted Debra. Beyond anything. She’d never known want quite like she did until she’d met Debra, and from that moment on, she’d never known not to want. Debra’s friendship was something she cherished, and her trust too, even if she had to keep breaking and re-earning it until it was a patched and leaking thing, because on days when they felt too close it felt too difficult to have to hold back. Sometimes it was so hard to not blurt out the obvious. To not tell her why she was drawn to her, and why she always stuck around.

Debra looked at Emily, and she felt the rage that brewed within her still to peaceful quiet. She looked at Emily, and the jolt of desire that flooded through her was so violent, she didn’t know how she was still upright instead of drowning in it. She looked at Emily, and the love that burst in her just for seeing her animated her every thought and movement made her believe for a moment it was something she could have before doubt put it out again.

Emily looked at Debra, and she felt at home. She felt all the best and worst of emotions in Debra’s presence. Jealousy when anyone looked her way. Lust when she caught glimpses of Debra changing her clothes, or changing the coffee filter, or changing lane. Anytime, really.

When Emily wasn’t there, it was like all the lights had gone out. She withdrew into a hollow, grumpy shell that barked at anyone who would listen, wounded because Emily had left yet again.

When Emily left she felt as though she was missing a part of her, which she told herself was stupid. But she felt empty, and unsettled, and on edge, unable to focus or do anything with full certainty until she was back with Debra. It hurt her to leave, but what hurt her, even more, was that Debra never asked her to stay. If Emily thought for one moment that Debra felt even a fraction of what she felt, there would be nothing to ever keep her away.

Debra couldn’t work out what was more painful; when Emily left unexpectedly, with Debra having all kinds of things on the tip of her tongue that she was denied the chance of saying, or when she knew Emily was going and those same words refused to come to the surface.

Emily was always torn when she left. She could only make excuses to stay so long. She could only build up hope that this would be the time Debra would ask her to stay. She was always disappointed. Sometimes she left without even so much as a goodbye, and other times she made her intent to leave obvious, giving Debra time to tell her to stick around. She was disappointed and hurt every single time.

This particular time Emily was leaving, Debra knew the second she walked in.

On this occasion, Emily told Debra when she was leaving.

Emily had announced on arrival that she couldn’t stay long, that she had places to be and problems to fix. Debra’s heart pounded, and ached, and longed to be able to have Emily around for longer. For Emily to just stay.

When she’d first arrived, Emily had made it clear there was a timescale here. She had fought with herself, trying to stay away longer and longer, but it hadn’t worked. She’d talked herself into giving Debra yet another one more chance, to see if she’d ask her to stay. To see if any of the feelings Emily had for Debra, Debra would return. Debra looked tenser than usual, and Emily had the sinking feeling that really, Debra didn’t want her there at all.

In the end, it was Debra’s brother Howard that forced the issue, having come over for dinner and already there when Emily arrived. Why was it always Howard?

Howard dragged Debra outside to talk. It seemed that Howard didn’t want her around either, and although that hurt, it didn’t ache nearly as much as the thought of Debra sending her away.

Howard had rounded on Debra and demanded that she pull her head out of her ass before stomping and driving away. It took Debra several minutes to realize that Howard had even taken her car keys, and she was now alone with Emily and would be forced to talk.

Emily had long ago decided not to eavesdrop if she could help it, and so she heard the muffled yet raised voices of Howard and Debra outside, but wouldn’t let her ear strain to make out a single word. There was a crunch of gravel that indicated footsteps, and the slamming of a car door before she heard it being driven away. Emily felt herself crumple; Debra didn’t even want to say goodbye. Emily felt nothing but foolish; how could she have fallen so hard for someone that would never, ever be able to love her back?

Emily was stood where she and Howard had left her when Howard had dragged her outside to talk. Emily leaned against a long cabinet that doubled as a kitchen counter, arms crossed across her chest. She watched as Debra returned to the room and shut the door with her back, leaning against it in mirror to Emily.

Emily did her best not to look surprised when it was Debra, not Howard, who walked back in. She watched as Debra leaned back uncomfortably against the door in silence, tried hard to ignore the digging in her lower back from the counter she was leaning against.

Debra took in a long, shaky sigh, closing her eyes to the rejection and pain she saw dancing in her imagination.

Emily watched as a wave of emotions warred across Debra’s face, and she breathed out awkwardly, eyes shut. Emily’s heart beat loud; was Debra working herself up to ask Emily to leave for good this time?

“Stay.”

Emily heard Debra speak, but it took a moment for the word to sink in.

“Debra?”

Emily’s eyes flew up to Debra’s, doubting yet hoping that she’d heard that one, magical word that she’d been longing to hear for so long.

Debra opened her eyes then, walking slowly towards Emily.

Debra walked towards her slowly, and Emily began to fear she’d made another mistake. She was so sick of getting things wrong, of feeling things wrong, she couldn’t take it much longer if—

“Stay, Emily. Please. Can’t you just stay?”

Surely Debra didn’t mean what she thought she meant. Surely she meant something else entirely, and Emily was misunderstanding yet again.

“Do you still need my help with something?”

That’s all Debra could mean. She needed something from her.

“No, Emily. No help. I just need you. To stay. I need you.”

This was too much. Debra… Debra couldn’t need her. Not like she needed Debra. Not like she wanted Debra. It just couldn’t be possible.

Emily remained silent, watching Debra come ever closer to her.

Emily didn’t want to move for fear of breaking the moment, and so she watched in silence as Debra stepped closer, and closer.

Debra let out another shaky breath and reached her hand out, hesitantly threading her fingers through Emily’s. Emily startled at her touch, but when she jolted in response, Debra gripped harder and brought her other hand up to hold onto Emily’s shoulder. She leaned her full length against her until they breathed the same air.

Emily looked down with a gasp at their entwined fingers, felt the heat from Debra’s other palm radiating across her upper arm. That feeling of home flushed through her entire being as Debra leaned into her completely, in one solid, warm, grounding line.

“I need you, Emily.” Debra’s voice cracked and croaked, and her breath came out staggered as Emily’s eyes widened in understanding.

Finally, finally, Emily allowed herself to believe that what she wanted most was happening. And it was happening right now. Debra wanted her. Debra needed her. Just as much as she wanted and needed Debra.

“Please…” was Debra’s final plea as she rested her forehead against Emily’s, noses bumping as she dipped her chin so she could offer the lightest of kisses.

Emily closed her eyes at the feel of Debra leaning her head down, the soft touch of her lips as gentle as she’d ever imagined.

“Please, Emily. Stay with me.”

Home. Finally, Emily was home.

Driving Distractions

Driving home from a team building conference with the guy from the office who he’s been secretly lusting after since he joined the team, Alex thinks the worst thing he’s going to have to deal with is his own wandering mind. But then the storm they’re driving in becomes impossible and forces them to stop; here’s what happens when Alex gets really, really lucky…

This is NOT safe for work, just to warn you. For those of you who follow/have followed me elsewhere, you might recognise this story in another guise 😉 and it’s all kinds of far-fetched. Fiction though, right? Always room for a little far-fetchedness in name of, um. Self-discovery?


“There’s no way we can keep driving in this. It’s too heavy,”

Ryan grunted noncommittally at Alex’s words, his eyes narrowed and scowling out of the window over the rain-soaked road in front of them.

As if to emphasise the point, the car lit up white, and the thunder the followed rumbled so heavily they could feel the car tremble beneath them. The rain sheeted down, relentless, a permanent tap, tap, tap against the car’s metal frame enough to set both their teeth and moods on edge.

It had been raining almost all day, steadying only in its intensity, but when they’d set off mid-afternoon from the hotel hosting the torture that was a Saturday team building conference, Alex had been not-so-quietly confident, patting the steering wheel of his faithful truck in trust and ignoring Ryan’s worried repeating of the flood warnings from the TV they’d been watching in the hotel lobby.

Alex had immediately started making jokes about how someone from Louisiana should be used to a little precipitation, loving that he had Ryan to himself and that there was no one else around to watch him fumbling over his words. Ryan’s death glare for his teasing stopped him speaking altogether, however, leaving Alex awkwardly clearing his throat and keeping his thoughts firmly on driving instead.

As the day wore on, Alex’s confidence withered away with the clouds rolling in increasingly darker, and the wind whipping up a frenzy. He phoned Roger, their station chief, who’d been the one to organise the damned course for them in the first place, instructing Alex to get useful information you can present, and Roger laughed at his crankiness but told him to be careful.

They stopped in a diner, watching through the window in silence as the parking lot puddles bled into one another and began to trickle rivulets across the footpaths. Alex suggested they stocked up on food for the road and keep going, still insistent that they’d make it back by nightfall. They climbed into the car with supplies, drenched from the short run between the car and a convenience store, both of them grimacing as they pinched up the wet denim away from their legs, and Alex cranking up the heating a little more to try and dry them out.

There was a near miss when the truck aqua-planed, and careered across the road bringing a sedan coming in the other direction to a screeching stop. And Alex had to slam on the brakes quickly a few more miles up the road, barely stopping in time without hitting the car in front, as the one in front of that one succumbed to the rain by crashing.

The sky remained dark and dismal, and yet seemed to grow darker still as the day went on, and attempts to restart the easy conversation they’d had on the way up to the conference on Friday cut short with every peal of thunder and every squeak of tyre on road, until the only sound to be heard inside the car was that of apprehensive silence.

Another diversion, and Alex gave up. They’d have to find somewhere to stop for the night, no question about it, if he wanted to get them both home safe. The first motel they passed was flooded out, its one solitary welcome sign flickering ominously. The second looked to have no power at all, and starting to pull into a third was the moment the truck stuttered, choosing the most inconvenient timing to break down, coming to a sharp, juddering stop. Alex and Ryan pitched forward heavily against the dashboard with their air being pushed out of them with a huff at the force of it.

“You okay, Ryan?” Automatically Alex reached a hand across to rest on his shoulder, hearing a soft groan as Ryan sat back.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

Alex gave himself a two second check over and nodded. “All good here,”

“We can’t leave the car like this, Alex. Not at this angle, and not so close to the road,”

Alex silently agreed, gritting his teeth against the idea of the two of them pushing the car in the pouring rain, both of them seeming to listen extra hard to it and shudder at the thought of getting out.

After a lot of grumbling to themselves, they jumped out and rolled the car to as safe a spot as they could in the pitch dark, dragged their overnight bags out of the trunk, and began a slow, unhappy trudge towards the motel entrance, shining out flashlights to guide their path.

The rain seemed to grow harder still over the short distance, and they hunched in on themselves uncomfortably, neither having particularly dressed for the weather.

Silent, and miserable, as even in their short walk their clothes became heavily saturated and their shoes filled until their socks squelched, their mood dipped even further at the confirmation inside the lobby that this motel was also completely out of power. There was no clerk to be seen at the desk at all, despite both of them calling for a good few minutes, and Alex eventually lost his patience, leaning across the counter to help himself to a set of room keys, tilting his chin for Ryan to know to head back out.

When they finally found their room number and closed the door behind them, the only noise to be heard was the steady dripping of water from their clothes, both of them sighing in temporary relief. Alex threw his bag to the floor and knelt, wrinkling his nose up in distaste at the way his jeans still clung wetly to his skin, and zipped the bag open.

“Here, hold this for me,” he handed Ryan the flashlight to point inside the bag, and gave a pleased sigh when he found spare batteries, then after a quick look around the room set his flashlight down on top of the closet, bathing the room in a strip of light.

“Get changed, Ryan,” he said, with them both tactfully turning their backs to one other, spending the next few minutes stripping down every wet layer with difficulty, and roughly drying themselves off with the towels that had been on the end of the bed.

Bed, thought Alex, sighing softly to himself. He would pick a room with only one bed, wouldn’t he? That was going to drive his imagination into a frenzy with Ryan being within literal touching distance. Ryan had only been at the station a few months, but he’d immediately caught Alex’s eye, and, he excused himself, it would take a better man than him not to notice the way the guy’s shirts fit so snuggly over his chest and arms, and the curve of his ass in his work pants.

Until Ryan, Alex had paid very little attention to the admin staff that worked with them for varying lengths of time, but ever since Ryan arrived, he’d found more and more reason to get himself into the back office, telling himself that his checking him out was nothing but discreet.

Alex closed his eyes, willing away thoughts he couldn’t let snowball, and looked over at the bed, switching to a mindset of practicality. It was big enough for them both and you know, he told himself. Shared body heat and all that. They had both got drenched, were cold, and there sure as hell wasn’t any heating in the room with the power being out. Besides. Ryan had seen the bed for himself and hadn’t commented, hadn’t walked back out again to get his own room key, so who was Alex to make a fuss over nothing?

He could hear Ryan’s teeth chattering behind him, and half-peered over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Ryan’s naked back and quickly spinning away again. “You gonna hurry it up, or what?” he muttered, telling himself firmly not to sneak another look.

They both pulled on their spare clothes as quickly as they could, with Alex gathering up all their wet things without even hesitating, then taking them to the bathroom to ring out, and draping them around where he could. When he came back to the main room, he found Ryan had tucked his hands into his armpits and was huddled in on himself shivering, and felt a little pull of affection for him.

“Cold?” he asked, pointlessly, to which Ryan gave a single, glum nod.

“A little,”

“Well. How about we eat something real quick, then sleep?” Alex suggested, then waited for Ryan to nod and turned to hunt through the bags for their earlier-purchased food. Pre-wrapped sandwiches, chips, and candy bars later, and they were adequately full, and more than ready to try and sleep. Both continued shivering as they took a turn in the bathroom that thankfully still had running water, and when Alex came back into the main room, Ryan had set up his own flashlight to one side of the bed and was stretching up to retrieve Alex’s own from on top of the closet,

“C’mon. Quicker we get under, quicker we get warm,” Alex said with false enthusiasm, moving around to the far side of the bed. With another second to see what Ryan was doing, Alex reached forward to grab a handful of blankets, nodding for Ryan to do the same. A rustling of sheets, a mumbled apology for the colliding of thighs, and they were in, willing themselves warm.

Alex stared up at the ceiling telling himself to relax, as Ryan continued to shiver beside him. He debated with himself, cursing internally for a couple of minutes, then blurted out, “C’mon, Ryan. Shuffle over,” whilst repeating his mantra of practicality in his head.

“Alex?” Ryan said, sounding a kind of surprised Alex couldn’t put a finger on.

“You’re freezing, I’m freezing, we’ll warm up quicker if we’re… you know,” he said, resisting the urge to reach out a reassuring hand to encourage him. He felt Ryan tense for a second before turning a little, the room growing a little darker with only one of their lights shining out, and Ryan was shuffling towards him.

Alex swallowed a little thickly before turning to switch off his own flashlight then spun back, muttering, “Turn your back to me,”

After another few hesitant seconds, Alex had positioned Ryan on his side and was spooned up behind him, throwing an arm over his waist, attempting to seem casual about it.

“You okay, Ryan?”

“Yes,”

“You sure?”

Ryan remained silent for a moment, and then muttered, “I’m cold, Alex,”

Alex found himself pressing his knees into the backs of Ryan’s and squeezing him a little tighter. “We’ll warm up soon. Promise.”

“This isn’t… I… this is, uh… unusual, Alex,” Ryan finally managed to stutter out, his breath hitching and his voice so full of confusion.

Alex smiled against the back of Ryan’s head. Oh good, you’ve noticed… “Uh huh,” he agreed, and reminded himself that he hadn’t been already thinking that, questioning his actions, that this apparent ease he spoke with was a carefully placed facade. “You uncomfortable with this?”

“…No,” Ryan mumbled, but Alex could plainly hear discomfort in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, this is an old-“

“I know all about sharing body heat to keep warm, Alex,” Ryan stopped him, seeming to force himself to relax in his arms and even press back a little into him.

Alex shrugged, not knowing what else to add so leaving them both silent, and he soon felt himself begin to thaw out, his sighs shifting to relaxed ones and his eyes beginning to drift closed, despite Ryan still shivering beside him.

“You doing okay there, Ryan?” he asked tiredly, feeling himself on the very edge of sleep.

“I’m still really, really cold,”

“Yeah…you are a bit, huh?” Alex acknowledged with a frown, “I’m sorry I don’t have more clothes for you to put on either. Hold on,” and with that Alex was fumbling the flashlight on, up out of the bed, tucking the blanket in around Ryan who still complained at the loss of heat.

A successful search turned up a couple of spare blankets in the room’s solitary closet, and Alex smirked to himself in mischief before whipping back the cover already on the bed.

Ryan jumped, barking out Alex’s name in protest as he flicked out both blankets and covered him with them, tucking them all around, carefully under his knees and pushing a side in under his elbows, before sliding back down himself and throwing the main cover over them both. He shifted forward again to press against Ryan’s back, securing his arm tightly around his waist.

“Give it a minute. You’ll be warm soon. I promise.”

“Thank you,”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ryan’s trembles started to reduce, and Alex finally felt him relaxing in his arms before drifting off to sleep.

 

***

 

Even before he opened his eyes, Alex could tell the rain hadn’t let up.

He could hear it striking dull against the motel room windows and splashing down into already-existing puddles that he hoped wouldn’t reach out enough to flood.

With a soft sigh and as gently as he could, Alex slid out of the bed to use the bathroom, returning just minutes later to find that in his absence, Ryan had flipped over, and was snuggled into where Alex had been laying, leeching all the heat from there. Alex rolled his eyes, watching him for a second, then climbed back in as best as he could manage to around Ryan.

Ryan, of course, grumbled at the intrusion.

“Come on, man. Budge up. Share,”

Muttering under his breath, Ryan moved just enough to let Alex lay down and then pressed himself back into Alex’s side, this time facing him. In his sleepiness, he seemed to have no problem at all with being half draped over Alex’s chest, wrapping his arm around and wriggling to get closer.

Alex didn’t object either, only looking down to grin. He might not be able to stop himself from fantasising a little with Ryan pressed up against him like he was, but he wasn’t about to deny himself entirely. It was okay to just look, after all, right?

“Comfy, there?” he said, grinning what he felt was probably a little stupidly.

“Yes. You’re warm,” Ryan pressed his face into Alex’s chest, and Alex bit back a laugh, hesitating only for a second before bringing up his arms to wrap around him, drifting back to sleep to the sound of Ryan’s pleased little sigh.

When they woke a little later, the rain had slowed, but a quick glance at what he could see of the sky without moving too much told Alex that it was still dark, and full of more rain yet to come.

With their phones out of battery and no way to charge them, Alex didn’t relish the thought of trudging out to find some way to fix the car, or get themselves elsewhere. So he laid back in the almost-comfortable bed, and waited for Ryan to wake up fully, smacking back any thoughts of him that were less than clean, which was so much easier said than done with a sleepy Ryan seeming content to be held in his arms.

When Ryan finally stirred against his chest, he rested his chin there and looked up at Alex, bleary-eyed, muttering a low, “Good morning,”

“Morning,” Alex answered, smiled wildly down at him, “I don’t need to ask if you slept okay, since you used me as a pillow for the last couple hours,”

“You make an exceptionally comfortable pillow,” was Ryan’s first retort, grumbled into Alex’s chest in a way that made him hold his breath, and then again at how Ryan suddenly grew completely still.

“…Ryan?” Alex tried, attempting not to sound worried, but there was no response from him at all, which made it that much worse. “Uh, Ryan?”

“Shit,” Ryan cursed out, starting to pull away from him, “sorry, Alex. I’m being inappropriate,” and kept trying to move, only to be stopped by Alex’s firm grip on his upper arms.

“’Inappropriate’?”

Ryan looked up to see Alex’s raised eyebrow, and quickly slid his eyes away again. “Yes,”

“Ryan?”

“I shouldn’t be… sleeping on you like this,” Ryan blasted out in utter mortification, his cheeks aflame with the embarrassment he seemed to be feeling.

“Oh. Well,” Alex shrugged, untroubled on the outside but inside his thoughts whirling up a storm, “I get it. But I don’t mind,”

Ryan resolutely continued to look elsewhere, and Alex grew increasingly suspicious of his reaction.

“Ryan-”

But Ryan jumped out of the bed and moved to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him, effectively shutting out Alex’s question.

Alex rolled his eyes, listening as Ryan worked through whatever morning routine he had, then plastered a neutral expression on his face as Ryan returned to the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex watched him standing awkwardly beside the bed as though not sure where he should be.

“Get back in, Ryan. No point us going anywhere just yet- or catching cold,” Alex protested, turning his head to look at him properly and raise an eyebrow challenging him to disagree.

“You cannot, technically, ‘catch a cold’,” Ryan retorted, whilst climbing back under the covers, keeping himself back as far from Alex as he could. It lasted a second, before Alex laughed and pulled him into his arms, with absolutely no idea where he was getting the bravery – or audacity to do so. This was far, far too intimate behaviour to be having with a colleague he’d been crushing on since first meeting him, yet been too cowardly to do anything about.

“Ryan. C’mon,” he said, forcing himself to sound perfectly rational, “we’re cold. We’re… it’s okay. What’s the big deal?”

Ryan shook his head, and Alex saw that blush returning to his cheeks, making his stomach give a small jolt for seeing the way it spread out.

“What was all that stuff about being inappropriate, anyway?”

Ryan seemed to hold his breath for a moment then let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alex,” he pleaded, “we- we barely know each other,”

“So?” Alex objected with a shrug, telling his stomach not to then drop in disappointment, “we’ve got on okay this weekend, haven’t we? And we’re… I mean we’re getting to know each other better at work, right?”

“Of course,” Ryan agreed in a blast of words, looking at him guiltily then rapidly turning his eyes away again, “but… You- you can’t be… can’t not have noticed my, uh… my reaction,” he offered, blurting out the word so very uncomfortably that Alex had to turn his head to make sure he wasn’t in actual pain.

Oh. Well no, Alex thought, he’d have to have been numb not to have felt Ryan’s cock pressing insistently against his thigh, but that’s why he’d extricated himself earlier, because he’d been doing just the same. He was trying to ignore it. Failing miserably, but trying to all the same.

“Hate to break it to you, Ryan. I had the same reaction myself. We’re guys. We do that. Honestly. No big deal,”

Ryan continued looking away, shaking his head, refusing his words.

“It’s not a problem, honest. No big deal,”

“I disagree,” Ryan retorted with a harder, more adamant shake of his head.

“Well go ahead and disagree, but I’m not gonna be offended by a normal bodily reaction,” Alex told him, and there was enough affection in his voice to make Ryan look up, biting down on his lip as he did.

“You aren’t angry,” Ryan said after a moment, the reply coming out statement rather than question.

“For what? I already told you, no,”

Ryan took the tiniest of breaths, looked away again, and then muttered, “What if it wasn’t just a ‘normal bodily reaction’?”

“Uh… what?”

“What if,” and now Ryan pulled away a little more forcibly from Alex, “it wasn’t just a bodily reaction… but- but my body reacting to yours?”

Alex’s mouth opened and closed fishlike, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher the meaning to his words. “Um. Huh?”

Ryan looked up at him quickly then, his eyes mournful, and so embarrassed, shaking his head all over again.

“Ryan. What are you trying to tell me?”

For what had to be a good three minutes – and Alex should know, because he lay there counting each and every second – Ryan daren’t look up, daren’t move, daren’t respond in any way at all.

“This isn’t the first time that I’ve, uh reacted to you. Like that,” Ryan blasted out then, looking surprised at himself for speaking, his cheeks flushing hard enough to say what he couldn’t finish getting out of his mouth.

“Uh-”

“I’ve woke up like that… after dreaming about you. Uh… several times now…”

“Oh. Oh,” Alex stuttered out, and it was his turn to lay very, very still.

“It’s inappropriate,” Ryan concluded in a mumble, looking as though he wanted to curl into himself.

“I… uh…” Alex began, but the words escaped him, and he cleared his throat to try again, “Ryan. I’m not… I don’t… I’m not complaining, here. And I don’t honestly know if I totally understand what you’re trying to tell me,” he said carefully, hearing himself babbling, but then his brain was several seconds behind the rest of his body and he had to make do with the words he could get out, “but I think you might be saying something about… uh… attraction,” Alex found himself to be blushing then, and huffed a little at himself for it.

Ryan nodded rapidly, keeping his eyes elsewhere. “Yes, Alex. I do. Find you attractive, that is. I have… since we all went for dinner at the steakhouse that time,”

Alex’s eyes grew wide at that, his mind going back to a meal they’d had probably a week or so after Ryan had started, and only able to answer with, “I see,” remembering how his eyes had lingered over Ryan when he was stood at the bar ordering a drink, and how he’d strategically managed to move from where he was sitting to be beside Ryan, who hadn’t seemed to object about the way their thighs were tightly wedged together beneath the table. Though they’d not acknowledged it at the time, obviously.

“And I’ve… I’ve never even been attracted to a guy before,” Ryan continued, swallowing hard, “at least, not consciously. Not admitting it to myself. Not- not like this,”

“Huh…”

“So, you can appreciate my… awkwardness,” Ryan added, somehow pulling away even further, which shouldn’t have been possible given the size of the bed.

“I guess,” Alex considered, then shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “still not a big deal, Ryan. I mean. I don’t have a ton of experience myself, either- with guys I mean. But… you’re kind of attractive yourself,” and Alex groaned at himself then, realising he sounded like he was flirting. Badly, at that.

Ryan let out a little surprised huff, and finally raised his head to look at Alex. “I… you do? I mean… you think that?”

Alex thought over his words, checking how ready he was for letting them out, then nodded, feeling brave. “Yeah,” he agreed, and Alex took another moment to deliberately rove an eye over Ryan as best he could in the badly lit room, “yeah. You are. In fact, you’re pretty hot, you know,”

The startled look on Ryan’s face had Alex cursing under his breath for his honesty, immediately regretting it. “Still doesn’t make this inappropriate. I mean,” he continued, allowing his thoughts to unravel a little freer. “Don’t mean it’s gotta go anywhere if you- we don’t want it to. It’s not- not like you’re pinning me down to the bed and forcing yourself on me, is it?”

Alex felt his heart quicken at his own words, and the image that he’d created for himself there, smirked to himself for his own reaction hopefully out of sight beneath the duvet, before catching Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan just stared back at him, incredulous. “Are you telling me that… it’s okay? To… uh… to want you?”

Alex asked himself that very question as though it wasn’t something he’d had very detailed thoughts about a hundred times over. He’d often caught himself looking at men over the years. He might have even had a couple of very drunken fumbles in his time, now that he was being truthful about it. More than a couple. But his attraction to Ryan burned that little bit brighter than any of that, enough to maybe acknowledge that that was what he was feeling. Attraction. Which up until then, he’d done nothing about, and was questioning himself as to why. Especially, he added to himself with a tentative smile, since the feeling appeared to be somewhat mutual.

“Uh, sure? ‘course it’s okay to want,”

Ryan nodded and ducked his eyes away again.

Alex nudged against him. “Hey. Want’s like that. Can’t help it, you know? I’m not offended, or angry, or… weirded out by it, or anything, if that’s what you’re getting all pouty about. It’s not like… it’s not like I haven’t had moments, uh… wanting you back. A lot of ‘em, actually. You’re… you’re kinda distracting, you know?”

As expected, Ryan’s head raised instantly, and Alex felt a little caught in headlights by his stare, but made himself keep speaking. “Just never really… I’ve never really. I… I guess I only recently acknowledged the fact that I was even attracted to men, so, you know. It’s new for me. And we work together, so it’s like… and you’re still practically new, you know? And as much as I really, really wanna get to know you better- as friends… more than friends… whatever, there’s just never really been a moment to just… I don’t know. Say something, do something about it,” Alex shrugged, “never been the right time. Keeping focused on the job’s what keeps us alive, right? Keeps our minds clear?” He laughed to himself then, groaning with embarrassment. “‘least, for me it means that; can’t say it’s true for you when you’re stuck behind a desk all day,”

Ryan nodded, slowly, and his expression told Alex he was thinking, and hard. “I like my desk job-”

“I know,” Alex agreed quickly, rapidly nodding, “I wasn’t saying-“

“Could now be the right time?” Ryan asked, interrupting him, and Alex thought he could hear a trace of hope there in his voice.

“…Now?”

“Yes. It’s Sunday. Neither of us are back at work ‘till Tuesday, ‘cos we got an extra day for coming to do that stupid team building crap,”

Alex nodded, grinning, happy to see Ryan agreeing with him on the ridiculousness that was their conference.

“We’re cut off from the world, temporarily,” Ryan continued, swallowing harder, “we have no urgency to leave, no one’s gonna be able to call us since our phones are dead. We can’t even go anywhere till your car’s been looked over. Is now a right time?”

Alex felt a smile spreading across his face. “Uh. Sure? Got to do something to pass the time, right?”

Ryan pulled away a little at his words, but Alex just pulled him right on back.

“Where’re you going? I was messing with you,”

Ryan let himself be pulled back against Alex’s chest but continued to avoid his eyes.

“Ryan,” Alex whispered, bringing his hand up around the back of Ryan’s neck, “how ‘bout I kiss you? See if we like it?” The words sounded calm, but Alex’s heart was jumping and juddering just at the thought of it.

Ryan licked his lips nervously and his eyes fell on Alex’s.

“Is that a yes?” Alex wasn’t about to move unless he got all the right signals from him, telling himself to keep perfectly still. When Ryan gave the slightest of nods of agreement, Alex leaned forward, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against Ryan’s mouth. He crooked an eyebrow up, silently asking for consent to continue, then leaned in for another, opening it up a little as Ryan responded gently against him.

When he felt Ryan’s hand come up and rest against his cheek, Alex relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the kiss himself. His own hands explored a little where they could reach, and Ryan gave out these little breathy sighs of appreciation that Alex found he really liked hearing from him.

“How’s that?” Alex asked, pulling away a little shakily with the force of stopping himself before he got carried away, and catching Ryan’s eyes.

“It feels… surprisingly good,” Ryan said thoughtfully, his fingers coming up to ghost against his own mouth.

“’Surprisingly good?’ What, you thought it would feel bad?” Alex laughed, pretending to be offended, finding he couldn’t tear his eyes from Ryan’s fingers, and then asked, “You’ve been thinking about it?”

Alex continued to watched Ryan’s lips as he swallowed a little awkwardly. “Only surprising because you’re… willing,” Ryan admitted, looking up then as though he couldn’t quite believe what they’d just done, “and yes. I’ve been thinking about it a lot,”

Alex smiled, leaning his head down a little to mumble against Ryan’s lips but not quite kiss him, “You’ve been thinking about kissing me, Ryan?”

“Amongst other things, yes,”

“Then don’t you think you should?” Alex asked, grinning, his heart giving a painful jolt.

“…I can?”

Alex’s chest swelled at that, that Ryan would think he needed permission. “Yeah. You can,”

And with a slight oof, Ryan pulled himself up a little and leaned his full weight down on Alex, immediately claiming his mouth.

Ryan, Alex thought, full of delighted surprise, had clearly been telling the truth when he said he’d thought about this a lot. He could tell from the way Ryan alternated the pressure of his kisses. The way he nipped at his lips, coaxing them apart. The way he stroked his tongue into his mouth, and gently moved his jaw to change the angles, with the most satisfied of groans rumbling up from deep in his throat throughout.

Alex was helpless to do anything but let him explore, and loved every minute of it, and soon their groans were accompanied by gasps, with Ryan straddling Alex’s lap and them rolling their hips together. Alex dug his hands into Ryan’s ass and held him just where he wanted him, with Ryan humming his approval into his mouth, as the rain continued to beat down outside their motel room.

 

***

 

The atmosphere in the car on the drive home was a different kind of tense than the one that had filled the car before the motel.

When they’d finally untangled from what was, to Alex’s mind, the greatest make out session he’d experienced in forever, they’d done a strange thing where both had tried to revert to their usual behaviour. It left them awkward, reaching for bags to pack at the same time and pulling away embarrassed when their fingers touched, or getting distracted when either of them forgot themselves and just stood there staring.

The memory of Ryan writhing in his lap had Alex’s brain checking out on him multiple times, and from the slight blush to Ryan’s cheeks when he caught him looking, the thought wasn’t far from his mind either. But they barely spoke, communicating only in awkward gestures, going out of their way to not come into contact with each other when they finally left the motel room.

As luck would have it, the truck started after only a couple of attempts, and they drove to a garage to have it checked out, still in complete silence. Once Alex had been reassured the truck wasn’t going to give out on them again any time soon, they’d got back on the road, driving for around an hour before Alex decided he couldn’t take the tension between them any longer.

Swinging into the nearest lay-by he slammed the brake on, and the second he cut the engine Alex pressed himself across the seat and on to Ryan, sighing with relief when Ryan opened his mouth to him and slid his fingers deep into his hair, gripping him in place.

“I don’t want to go back yet,” Ryan told him breathlessly between kisses, sounding both bold and nervous at once.

Alex paused above him, nudging his lower lip against Ryan’s own. “No?”

Ryan shook his head slowly. “No,”

Alex pulled back a little, and Ryan watched his face warily, seeming cautious about what his response was going to be.

“Alright,” Alex nodded, trying to sound decisive, like he knew what he was doing, “how ‘bout you and me stop off somewhere. Maybe take another night. See how we feel?” he asked, holding his breath and waiting for Ryan’s reaction, full of his own hesitation.

Ryan’s shy smile lit up his whole face. “You would do that?”

“Sure,” Alex nodded, answering his smile, “been pretty good so far, don’t you think?” He chose not to add that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on him, and didn’t think he’d be able to drive all the way back without being dangerously distracted by all the things he wanted to do to him.

“Very good,” Ryan agreed eagerly, gripping him with a little more confidence.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Alex said, claiming one final kiss before turning back to the steering wheel with a smile.

After a stop for food, and Alex’s blushing trip for what he’d termed to Ryan as he’d left him in the car, ‘essentials’, the tension between them grew even more loaded with anticipation. Alex let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a motel sign, gratefully turning the engine off as they pulled into a parking space, squeezing his fingers around the steering wheel for a second to steady himself.

Alex had an idle thought of wishing they’d found a better location, but quickly changed his mind at the hungry look Ryan gave him across the seat. This motel room they paid for, upfront, with the clerk looking between them and not even bothering to hid his knowing smirk. And when the motel door clicked closed behind them, the very air felt charged.

They stood, as though put on mute, looking at each other for what felt a very long time, until Alex’s impatience won out and he had to get things moving. “Don’t know about you, but I could use a shower,” he announced, after clearing his throat and taking a couple of attempts to get out his words.

Ryan curled his fingers into the hem of his jacket, and agreed with a simple, shy nod.

“You go first?” Alex offered, rummaging in his bag for a charger and offering to do the same for Ryan, plugging their phones in, then listening to Ryan start up the shower.

Alex let out a long, long breath, and felt his heart thud heavily. How the hell had they got to this? Not, he hastened to add to himself, that he was complaining about it – he’d be counting his lucky stars if he was that kind of guy. But this, this, was like something out of every bad porn he told himself he’d only ever caught himself watching by accident. Hot colleague agrees to a night in a motel with the only thing to entertain them a bottle of lube and each other? It was far too good to be true.

Trying to keep himself busy, Alex tipped out his recent purchases, sorting through the snacks to pull out the box of condoms and bottle of lube, and swallowing thickly at seeing them in his hands, even though he’d been the one to buy them. On hearing Ryan shutting off the shower, he quickly flung them on to the bedside cabinet and scooped up everything else to deposit on the small table nearby.

Ryan walked out just a couple of minutes later looking even more shy than before, and wearing only a towel that left little to Alex’s already overactive imagination. “I assumed I wouldn’t need… that is… I…” his voice tumbled out, and Alex’s heart started pounding, both at how Ryan looked – incredible, that’s a good word, he thought. Completely fuckable was a better one, he added – and how willing, despite being nervous, that he seemed. Alex’s answer was to grip around Ryan’s hips and kiss him, hard, at which Ryan sighed in relief, and pressed firmly back against him.

“My turn,” Alex mumbled against his lips after a while, smirking at how Ryan’s towel now stood out proudly as he stepped away from him. He spun quickly to head to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him, taking a moment to steady himself against the back of it before jumping in the shower, finding himself being extra thorough.

When he came back into the room he found Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, the box of condoms clutched to his lap as he read the side of the lube bottle as though he needed to understand the instructions thoroughly.

On hearing Alex return, Ryan looked up at him, anxious. “I hope I’m not… not disappointing, Alex,” he began, pushing the bottle and the box from his lap and on to the bed.

“Not possible,” Alex beamed at him, shaking his head, “I mean, look at you,” Alex’s eyes travelled intentionally down from Ryan’s eyes, to his lap, then back up, and Ryan blushed, but smiled back at him.

“It’s not like I’ve done this before either. Not,” he clarified, “with a man. Not all of it, anyway,”

“What… what have you done? With- with a guy, I mean?” Ryan asked, full of hesitant curiosity.

Alex shrugged, and sat down beside him, freezing for a second as his towel began to shift, then realising that was pointless considering what they both intended. His towel slid a little more to expose a large amount of thigh, though still covered him enough to keep him modest, for now. Ryan’s eyes were captivated.

“I’ve fooled around a couple of times,” Alex started with, smiling when Ryan managed to drag his eyes back up to look at him, “maybe more than a couple of times,” he amended, more honestly. “You know. Hand jobs,” and his breath caught at his own words, even though he felt like he shouldn’t be the slightest bit embarrassed, “some fingering. Basically, a lot of exploring,” he finished with a grin as Ryan’s gaze over him as though he had no control over it, then raised back to his eyes once more.

Ryan sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting on it for a moment before releasing it. “I’ve got no clue what I’m doing here, not one. I’ll be completely at your mercy,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping to drift over Alex’s towel.

“You can’t say things like that,” Alex said hastily, feeling the heavy twitch his cock gave at the word mercy, “and you’d be surprised at what you know. It’s instinctual. Has been with me, anyway,” he promised with a smile that was far more confident than he felt.

Ryan nodded, but still looked uncertain.

“And,” Alex added, leaning over a little, “no one says we do anything we don’t want to do. We’re just seeing what we like, right?”

“Right,” Ryan agreed with a forceful nod, then sucked in a sharp, whistling breath.

Alex sat and watched Ryan getting used to the idea of what they might be about to do, using the time to get used to the idea for himself. He wondered if he should pinch himself, see if he was about to wake from some very interesting dream, find himself waking to another day at the station where he surreptitiously found reasons to keep Ryan in his eyeline. But the air was too thick and heavy, and his heart racing too fast for this not to be real.

Alex shifted forward again, and that movement had his towel slipping further, with Ryan’s eyes growing wide as his throat gave an audible quick, apparently trying to swallow. Alex kept perfectly still, thinking perhaps he shouldn’t do anything to startle Ryan into changing his mind, but he seemed to have other ideas entirely. With one decisive movement, Ryan reached out and flicked Alex’s towel away, leaving him the one momentarily startled.

Ryan’s fingers were on him immediately, starting with gentle stroking along his shaft with just his fingertips that then slid to grip around it as Alex grew hard at his touch. Ryan stroked him, his eyes riveted in fascination, and it was only at Alex’s delayed but choked gasp that he looked up.

Ryan grinned at him then, full of mischief. “I assume you realised I’ve touched my own cock on more than one occasion. Kinda know how this bit works,” which just created a flood of all sorts of pictures in Alex’s mind that made him harden further, and the ability to speak vanish altogether.

He did manage to open his legs a little wider though, which made Ryan’s smile grow, and his hand dipped down briefly to lightly stroke over his balls, then back up, wrapping his fingers round him again a little more confidently. Alex found himself leaning back on to his elbows and watching Ryan’s hand on him, taking slow, measured breaths and letting out the smallest of noises that told Ryan exactly how good it felt. He grunted when Ryan swirled his thumb over his head, and somewhere in the back of his mind remembered the lube he’d brought, twisting around for it without taking his eyes off Ryan’s hand.

Within minutes, Alex was completely slicked up, and his head dropped back against the bed as Ryan worked him steadily, the sounds of Alex’s soft moans and the slickness of skin on skin the only thing either of them could hear. Ryan moved to sit cross legged between Alex’s legs, his own towel long forgotten, his free hand coming up to alternate between cupping Alex’s balls, and hesitantly pressing around and into his hole.

Alex surprised himself by the way he writhed and rucked at the feel of Ryan’s finger pressing into him, feeling a clench that said how much more he wanted. He opened his legs a little wider, snorted at the realisation that he was completely at Ryan’s mercy right then, and let himself enjoy all Ryan was doing to him for as long as he could stand, before getting too close to be able to stop himself from coming.

With a gentle tug on his wrist, Alex pulled Ryan’s hand away, sitting up fast and dragging Ryan’s mouth down to his for a filthy kiss. Raising to his knees he pushed Ryan down on his back, flicking his tongue into his mouth as he lubed his hand up. And the second he wrapped his fingers around Ryan’s already straining cock, they both groaned out hard, with Alex tilting his head to watch as Ryan’s cock slipped between his fingers and his legs jerked further apart.

Alex leaned forward then, keeping up kisses along with stroking Ryan for as long as he could bear, and then moved to kneel back, taking up his own exploration between Ryan’s legs, teasing fingertips along the crease of his thighs and circling over his hole. Ryan let out a series of short gasps at his touch, whining a little when Alex pulled away from him, even rocking up his hips asking to be touched all over again.

As Alex poured more lube on to his hand, Ryan raised his head to watch what he was doing, dropping it back with a grunt as Alex lined their cocks up together against his palm. He was soon looking again though, eyes fixed on Alex’s hand jerking them off, their breath heavy, both of them mumbling out encouragement for how good it felt.

Alex shifted a little again, letting go but pressing their cocks together between them then rolling down between Ryan’s legs writhing a steady rhythm against him. Ryan arched up, and Alex claimed his mouth again, mumbling into it, cursing when Ryan thrust up harder, and fought to match his rolling hips with his own. He pulled back to look at him, forcing himself to move teasingly slow, and smirked at Ryan with the dirtiest of grins.

“See, Ryan? Told you. Instinctual,” he whispered, triumphant, bending down to kiss him again.

“Or it’s just ‘cos you feel so fucking good,” Ryan replied with an unsteady gasp.

“I could say the same about you,” Alex retorted with, giving a long, slow thrust that had Ryan sucking in a breath, “you feel so, so good, Ryan. Why’ve we never done this before?” he laughed, then bent to trail kisses along Ryan’s jaw and down his neck.

“We’re stupid,” Ryan told him with a certainty that made Alex laugh, “and I want more,” which abruptly stopped Alex moving altogether, freezing above him wide eyed.

“More?” Alex asked, knowing he sounded like he feared Ryan was teasing him.

“Yes.”

“What… uh…. what do you want?”

Ryan slid his hands down Alex’s back to cup his ass, pulling him hard against him with a small groan. “Next time, I wanna fuck you. Really, really fuck you. Take that hungry look off your face when you think I don’t see you watching me at work,”

Alex swallowed thickly at Ryan’s words, and harder still for realising his looking had been noticed, then felt himself nod, earning himself a wicked smile.

“But right now,” Ryan continued, very matter of factly, “I want to feel you inside me, Alex. I’ve been… fuck, I’ve been thinking about it so much. Can we do that?”

Alex groaned, grinding his hips down without any thought behind it, though forcing himself to breath out long, and steady. “Whatever you want, Ryan. Whatever you want,”

They lost themselves to increasingly more filthy kisses for a time, but then Alex forced himself to sit up, fighting back his nerves and telling himself to get on with the inevitable. “Uh. I’ve heard. That is, I’ve read. That this might be easier. A first time. If you… roll over. On your front. Kind of… tuck up your knees under you… uh… if that’s okay?”

Ryan did just that before Alex even finished getting his words out, arching himself back as much as he could and looking over his shoulder in a way that made Alex fall forward in want.

Telling himself there was no conscious thought behind it, Alex found his hands stroking over Ryan’s ass, his thumbs pulling him open, his head ducking down a little to get a really good look at him. He sucked in a breath, imagining just how good it was going to feel to be in there, wondering for a moment how the hell he was actually going to fit in there, and then poured lube over his fingers, gently pushing one in. Ryan rasped out a little sigh the second Alex’s finger breached him, writhing back on it.

“You’ve got to let me know if I do something wrong, okay? If it hurts, or something doesn’t feel right, you just tell me, okay?”

“I trust you,” Ryan told him quietly, which did nothing to help Alex calm.

With a steadying breath, he continued pushing that one finger into him slowly, waiting for Ryan to relax around him before pushing in further still. He swallowed sharply as he pulled his finger back out a little, eyes wide at the way it glistened, imagining his cock slicked up the same way and pushing it inside him, how tight that was going to feel.

Ryan moaned out beneath him, and pushed his hips back a little. “I need more,”

Alex drew out his finger and added a second, pushing in slower until his fingers were in as far as they could go. And then he pressed, explored, scissoring his fingers gently until Ryan gasped and bucked against the bed. Alex gave himself a mental high five, and continued pressing, growing harder at the way Ryan squirmed and rocked back on his fingers. He pumped them in and out for a few more strokes, then added a third, which Ryan responded to with the loudest groan he’d given so far, arching his hips up against him.

With one hand holding him open, Alex continued to pump his fingers into Ryan, watching in fascination the way his hole puckered red around them.

“Alex,” Ryan gasped, “Alex,” and he pushed back hard against Alex’s hand, seeming to have lost the ability to say anything else.

“Okay. Just give me a minute, okay?” Alex asked, the words coming out scratchy and halted. Withdrawing his fingers altogether, and as quick as he could manage with nervous hands, Alex tore off a condom from the strip in the box, rolling it down over himself firmly and pressing it firm around his base. He took another steadying breath, then kneeled forward, pausing again to put another slick over lube over himself, then resting his hands on Ryan’s hips and pressing his cock against the crack of his ass.

“You okay there?” he asked, shuddering forward at the way Ryan rolled his hips up in response.

Alex thumbed him open again, groaning at how wide he now looked after his fingers had gone to work on him. He pressed his tip up against him, sucking in his breath as he watched his head slide in, at which Ryan gasped, but pushed back to urge Alex on. Alex pressed in, inch by inch, stopping each time Ryan tensed up until he relaxed around him, until he was fully inside and he couldn’t hold back the groan punching its way out of his throat. He took a moment to flex himself, feeling his cock been squeezed by the tightness of Ryan’s ass, listened as Ryan whined for him to move, grinding back against him, and then Alex was gone.

His fingers slid around to grip onto Ryan’s hips, and as slow as he could manage, he pulled out, leaning back to watch himself slide repeatedly in. He tried to keep it slow, he really did. But like he’d told Ryan; instinct. And instinct had him pounding out of control before he knew it, falling forward and leaning right down on Ryan one moment before straightening back up and moving Ryan’s hips to angles that made Ryan moan and grunt beneath him.

Ryan changed his position, spreading his legs a little and dropping down onto one arm, and Alex realised he was stroking himself. Cursing, he thrust in harder, gripping tight, leaving finger marks deep into Ryan’s skin.

“Alex,” Ryan breathed out, and he tensed a little, “I think I’m-”

But Alex cut off his words, chasing a point in Ryan that felt mind numbingly good, and only seemed to feel even better as he felt Ryan come with a hard, short gasp. Two, three, four more thrusts, and Alex was joining him, cursing again and falling forwards once more. He flung out his arms to stop himself collapsing entirely, panting out over Ryan’s ear with a tired, filthy groan.

It took them a while to calm enough to move, since their legs were shaking so hard from the pressure of them both kneeling for so long. But eventually, Alex pulled himself out, and on wobbly legs stood to tie and throw the condom in the trash. He grabbed the bottles of water he’d bought and passed one to Ryan as he rolled over, adamantly not laughing at Ryan’s grimace as he found the wet patch on the cover beneath him.

“Stay there,” he said, returning moments later with a damp towel that he cleaned Ryan off with before wiping away the worst of the mess they’d made on the bed. He nudged for Ryan to move, and together they pulled the blanket down to lay on the sheets.

They lay, taking long sips of water, for several minutes in complete silence.

“So,” Alex started, when he’d managed to untangle his thoughts from his brain, and if he was honest, his orgasm which had rendered him temporarily dumb, “How was that?”

Ryan turned from him to put his bottle on the floor beside the bed then rolled back, grabbing Alex’s face and pulling it down to his, flicking his tongue into Alex’s mouth. “I have every intention of repeating that with you, as often as you’ll let me,” he answered, smiling around his kiss.

“Does that mean you enjoyed it? ‘Cos that… I can’t tell you how good that felt to me,” Alex sucked in a breath, somehow suddenly bashful. With a wink, Ryan pulled and rolled Alex until he was bracketed between his arms, trading languid kisses until they fell asleep.

 

***

 

The atmosphere in the car on the drive home was a different kind of tense entirely when they eventually left the motel the following morning.

They had barely come up for air.

There had been a long, loaded make out session that had started out slow and calm in the aftermath of their first time together. It had quickly built into something of a frenzy, with Ryan pounding Alex into the mattress with a ferocity that Alex could only whimper at, the feeling of being filled and fucked like nothing he could ever have imagined, but absolutely something he wanted over and over (and over) again.

Alex woke Ryan with his first attempt at giving head, which Ryan seemed to like so much that he groaned loud enough for the neighbouring room to hammer on the adjoining wall. And Ryan had later crawled over Alex, teasing him hard with his hands and his mouth before straddling him, and sliding down on to him, rocking frustratingly slowly until Alex couldn’t take any more and gripped tight around his waist so he could piston up into him from beneath.

It had taken them an incredibly long time to get ready, what with sharing a shower, getting distracted when they tried to dress, and kisses that rendered them useless and unable to move.

The tension in the car was a loaded kind of, what now?

There had been very few words between them really, since that first kiss in that first motel, and it seemed to have dawned on them both at the same time that they had hours ahead of them in the car, giving them the perfect opportunity to talk. With both of them reluctant to start.

Eventually, Alex cleared his throat and gave a cautious glance over at Ryan. “You okay there?”

“I’m good,”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t feel like talking?”

Ryan turned to him slightly, a small smile. “I’m quite tired, Alex,”

Alex’s own face cracked into a grin. “Yeah… yeah, me too,”

“Do you think we should talk, Alex?”

Alex turned his gaze back to the road. “Probably,”

“But you don’t want to?” Ryan guessed, pursing his lips together and looking what Alex thought might be either disappointed, or sad. Alex smiled in an attempt to reassure him, though ended up frowning a little and taking a few minutes to think about what he wanted to say.

“When we get back…” he started with, darting another quick look at Ryan to gauge his reaction, “I don’t wanna act like nothing’s changed,”

Ryan nodded but didn’t add anything, silently telling Alex he needed to keep talking, so he cleared his throat, and begged himself not to mess it up.

“I don’t… I don’t have any problem at all with anyone knowing I’m… we’re… whatever we are now,” Alex continued, as cautiously as possible, “but I don’t know what we do now. I mean,” and he shifted a little in his seat as the thought hit him, “I don’t know what you expect either, actually.”

Ryan pursed his lips again, obviously thinking, reaching out almost absently to take Alex’s hand in his grip, then stroking a thumb over the back of it, which Alex loved.

“I don’t wanna pretend like this whole thing never happened,” Ryan said, equally cautious, glancing over at Alex to see how he received his words and smiling in relief when he winked back at him, “and I very much want to have sex with you again,” Ryan added with a finality that suggested Alex had better agree, or else. He did, readily, squeezing Ryan’s hand in reassurance.

“Me too, Ryan. Just try and stop me,” he turned to wink at him, and Ryan blushed, looking away. “Just… not to be jumping the gun or anything. But I can’t promise to be any good at relationship stuff. Kinda suck at that,” Alex groaned, feeling his shoulders drop at the admission.

“And we work together,” Ryan added, frowning a little himself.

“And we work together,” Alex repeated, wondering how the hell they were supposed to navigate that? Or even how he’d keep his hands off Ryan in the office now he’d had all that skin against his palms.

Ryan nodded, thoughtful. ““I would be… uncomfortable. If… if we were to keep doing this and still see other people. I’ve got… I’ve got no problem us keeping this just between us for a while; in fact, it’s probably a good idea while we figure this out. But I don’t… I don’t want there to- to be anyone else in the equation, here. It’s… I don’t want that at all,”

Alex thought that a solemn Ryan sounded cute beyond all measure, but didn’t see the need to tell him that. “So, what you’re saying, Ryan, is that you want me to yourself, huh?” Alex concluded with him unable to hold back his smile, squeezing Ryan’s hand as he spoke.

“I understand if that’s a bit too much,” Ryan sighed, looking down at their joined hands, which Alex squeezed again, asking him to look back up.

“Ryan. Seriously. Any idea the last I had sex with someone? Before you?” he grinned, stopping Ryan from whatever he was about to say. Ryan shook his head, and Alex paused for a second to think about it himself, then laughed. “Me neither. Months, I guess. Not exactly been interested,”

“But you are interested. In me,” Ryan asked, for clarification, biting down on his lip.

“Hell, yeah. I’m all kinds of interested in you. There’s… there’s so much we… yeah. I’m interested, Ryan,” he settled for, and Ryan seemed to consider his words, find himself happy with what he heard.

“So. It doesn’t need to be complicated. We can… we can take it one step at a time. Right?” Ryan asked, turning to him shyly, but with an expectant expression on his face.

Alex looked back at him, smiling easily. “Alright. Sounds good to me. One step at a time, right?”

“Agreed.”

“I can’t promise I won’t mess up,” He warned, looking back to the road, worry on his face.

“Neither can I. Alex,” Ryan laughed, shifting in his seat, both of them fidgety and on edge, “let’s just… see what happens. Not- not force each other into anything we’re not ready for. Just… see how it goes,”

Alex squeezed his hand again, feeling himself relax. And then, “So that’s it?” Alex he asked, disbelievingly, leaving Ryan looking back at him, silently asking what he meant. “I mean. This whole thing kinda happened by accident. Which I am not complaining about,” he hastened to add. “But. I’m not used to things going… easy,”

Ryan shrugged, staring out of the window. “Me neither. Maybe we get an ‘easy’ now and then, sometimes,”

Alex gave a short huh before they grew silent again, and then to Ryan’s surprise they were pulling over.

“Alex,”

“Shh…”

And Alex was leaning over to Ryan, sighing a kiss into his mouth.

Ryan groaned, wrapping his arms to loop around Alex’s neck and chasing his tongue.

“Alex,” he mumbled between kisses, biting a little at Alex’s lips and enjoying the way he gasped at that, “Can I tell you what I want, Alex?”

“Sure,” Alex breathed into his skin, mentally calculating how much longer it would take them to get home.

“I want you on top of me. And I want you… on my cock. And I want you… in my hand,”

Alex whined a little at the image that gave him and the way he strained against his zip.

“Can we do that, Alex? Can we do that now?”

Here?” Alex asked in surprise, as though the idea of having sex in a car had never occurred to him before.

“There’s ample room your back seat,” Ryan reasoned, sliding his hands all over him greedily.

“I don’t know about ample,” Alex started, quickly kissing away the grumble from Ryan’s lips, “but we’ll give it a go. Something, anyway,” he added at the look on Ryan’s face.

Not taking his eyes from Alex, Ryan started unbuttoning his jeans and stroking himself to get Alex’s full attention. It worked.

“You,” Alex growled, leaning once more to kiss him, “back seat. Now,”

Ryan grinned at him triumphantly for a second then scrambled into the back seat quickly with Alex following him right behind.

“If you won’t let me fuck you here, Alex,” and the obscenity on Ryan’s lips hit Alex hard with lust, “then I am going to at least taste you,”

In what felt like one single move, Ryan unzipped him, pulled down his jeans and boxers, yanked off his jacket and pushed up his shirt. And then was down, licking along Alex’s length before sucking on his head with a hungry moan.

It was all that Alex could do to hold on to something, anything he could grab, bracing himself back against the window and one hand at the headrest, as Ryan swallowed him down, his hands pressed Alex’s legs open and preventing him from moving around too much. The noises Ryan made just added to the build Alex felt in his gut, and all he could do was grunt and gasp in response.

But then Ryan was moving and kneeling half on the seat and half on the floor. “I need to come too,” he said anxiously as he unzipped himself. Alex’s eyes flew to where Ryan sprung free and he reached out for him, gripping him firmly and smiling as Ryan rocked into his hand.

“Come here,” Alex muttered, angling himself to line their cocks up together. Ryan looked down to Alex’s hand as he stroked them, lacing his fingers in the gaps between to join him. They both watched for a minute and then Alex picked up the pace, with Ryan pushing up their shirts out of the way to give them a better view. Faster and faster became the slap of their skin, thrusting up into the circle of their hands with increasingly desperate grunts, urging each other on with filthy encouragement.

“Come for me, Ryan,” Alex whispered when he knew he was close, and he did, seconds before Alex, both moaning into each other’s mouths and feeling their come grow cold on their chests. With smiles pressed to lips and hums of sated approval they sprawled out on the back seat to catch their breath, laughing when they realised they had nothing to clean themselves down with.

 

***

 

The drive had been significantly lengthened by frequent make out stops, and there had been discussions about boundaries they carefully agreed on together for this very new development in their relationship. By the time they were almost back, the atmosphere had again shifted, this time to nothing but wanting. About five miles out, Ryan idly began tracing his fingers over Alex’s thigh before reaching to stroke along his length through his jeans, pinching his way along the growing swell there until Alex growled that he’d be driving them off the road if he didn’t stop.

Ryan did stop, for all of a minute, then pulled Alex’s hand between his own legs, tracing Alex’s fingertips over his own straining fly instead.

“Come to mine,” Alex growled, his breath catching at Ryan’s easy agreement, squeezing around his length in reward.

A few minutes later, Alex threw the car into his parking spot a lot less smooth than usual, taking barely a second between pulling on the brake and grabbing Ryan roughly into his lap to grind up against.

Ryan’s hands were up and under Alex’s shirt immediately, straight to running his fingernails over Alex’s nipples after very recently discovering how much Alex liked that. And a little later still, once they’d managed to get themselves to Alex’s bedroom, Alex arched his back leisurely, leaning up into Ryan’s kiss and stroking a lazy hand down his back as Ryan rocked into him.

Ryan moaned against his lips, before shifting his hold on Alex to angle his hips and drift his hands up the back of Alex’s thighs, holding his knees high and as far apart as he could. He thrusted hard, once, smiling at Alex’s answering groan, pulling out slowly before doing it again, and again, forcing out noises from Alex that he couldn’t get enough of.

Reaching down between them, Ryan rubbed his palm over Alex’s cock head, smearing the precum there down his shaft and stroking him in time to his thrusts as Alex fell apart beneath him, groaning out brokenly as he came.

Ryan chased down his own orgasm, then collapsed on top of him, thoroughly spent. When his breath was back, and he’d tied off the condom, he climbed back on to the bed, pulled Alex into his arms, and told him he’d be staying the night, then promptly fell asleep, leaving Alex to grin to himself at just how lucky he’d gotten, before snuggling back against him and falling asleep himself.

 

 

Point of No Return

“You remember when we-”

He says, a reminiscent smile on his face as he leans on the terrace railing and stares out over the water. His voice fades away, but you don’t need him to finish the words, because you do; you do remember. A small boat, white with a navy blue trim around its flank. Sea spray striking your skin as wind whipped up your hair. Your hands on the steering wheel, though he was the one steering; pressed up tight against your back with his hands around your middle, gentle fingers slipped between your own.

A lifetime ago, you think, but it isn’t really. Can it only be three years since? Three years, for the love of your life to morph into barely an acquaintance? You don’t even know this man stood there in front of you, not really, not anymore. Not the lines of his back, nor the warmth of his skin beneath yours; nothing. You barely know yourself anymore, you defend, but it’s empty, as empty as you feel.

“I do,” you say, anyway, wincing at the words, because not so long ago, you thought you’d be saying them in front of witnesses. The ring still sits in its velvet prison, buried deep at the bottom of your sock drawer. You should have taken it back months ago, when you first accepted it was never going to happen, but you’ve talked yourself into and out of it so many times, clinging on for hope, which is what this weekend is all about.

You watch him in profile, and it brings the slightest amount of comfort seeing that reminiscent smile turn wistful before finally settling on just plain sad. You both did this, you tell yourself, though it’s nothing but fiction. Because some days it’s easier to pretend it just happened. Easier to act like you didn’t bring it all on yourself.

That small boat, with that deck so small, that you barely had room to step around one another. But that hadn’t stopped the wandering hands, the smiling faces, the teasing kisses under the fading summer sun. A lake house, a long stretch of decking to which that boat had eventually been tethered, and love made on a mess of blankets on that decking underneath the light of the stars.

You took that from him, you think, your stomach churning, as it always seems to be churning of late; you did that to both of you. Took something sacred, sweet, and centring, and turned it stale, and sour. And this weekend away, you hoped would claw it back. But how can you claw back what you took for granted? How can you regain the trust that you so viciously shred apart?

“I wouldn’t go back, you know,” he says then, quiet though firm, soft enough to make your heart both ache and pound, “I mean, I wouldn’t change it. Wouldn’t… guess I’m saying is, I don’t regret it; not a minute of it. Not even if this is where we’ve ended up,”

This, you think, tears choking your throat, then pricking in your eyes, as his hand reaches out to press over yours, slotting his fingers between your own as he once did, as he has done, so many times. This is over; there’s no point denying it, no point sprinkling it in sparkle and pretending the end isn’t happening when so obviously, it is. It has been happening, for months now. You’ve just finally run out of time.