DISCLAIMER - No matter how many times I close my eyes and make a wish I still don't own these beautiful boys... more's the pity. This is purely a work of fiction, not intended to imply anything about these guys or their lives.
Author's notes - Many thanks as always to Astrea for betaing. This follows on immediately from Pale Shelter. Completed March 2003.
Tonight definitely hasn't turned out the way I was expecting it to, and that can only be a good thing. I thought all I had to look forward to was an evening on my own, watching TV, maybe reading over my lines, certainly nothing more exciting than that.
But that was before I got home to find Tom waiting for me.
He doesn't often have the chance to spend the whole night with me. I went into this relationship knowing its limitations and I will never push Tom for more than he's willing to give me. After all, if I were to force him to choose between me and his wife, I know what his choice would have to be. We both know. That said, neither of us is about to waste whatever time Tom can make for us to spend with one another.
We have a set of house rules that apply whenever and wherever we do snatch time together. Tom insisted, right from the start, and I don't have a problem with them. They're pretty simple really. Under no circumstances does either of us mention Jamie when we're on our own and Tom takes off his wedding ring before we do so much as touch. It seems to be his way of saying that this is something that just belongs to us - no other ties, no guilt. That suits me fine.
This evening, once Tom managed to thaw me out after my journey home in the cold, we started off just making out on the couch. It was a nice way to relax, but it was never going to be enough for either one of us. Tom wasn't in any rush to move, though, and eventually I decided I'd have to give things a push in the right direction before I ended up with a serious case of blue balls.
Which is why I'm now on my knees, between Tom's spread thighs, with the heat of the fire at my back, burning through my sweater. But I'm not moving again, because I know we both need this. I could feel that Tom was hard when I was lying in his lap and from the bulge in the front of his jeans I can see that hasn't changed.
Thinking about it, it's been longer than usual since we've been able to get some time together like this and I guess we're both feeling it now. I certainly have the urge to make up for the long separation.
I look up at Tom as my fingers go to work on his jeans. I'm in too much of a hurry and I find myself fumbling with the button fly in frustration. Tom seems to like the way I'm touching him, though, because he's smiling and it's a soft, almost dreamy expression.
Without prompting, his hands slip down and he starts to run them over my scalp. I can feel Tom's fingertips catching on the stubble that's getting quite noticeable this late in the day, but he keeps on stroking me anyway.
"Would you think it was really weird if I said I loved your head?" Tom says suddenly.
I can't help it, I just start laughing at that and Tom looks pissed.
"Sorry," I tell him unrepentantly. "Is this some new kink you've discovered?"
Tom shoots me a wry smile. "I guess it must be. I just like the feel of it, you know - the bumps, the five o'clock shadow - it's different."
"If you tell me it's cute I will kill you," I say sternly, but I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face. I never had anyone tell me they like my head before... well, not and mean what Tom does.
"Nah." Tom shakes his head, but I can see he's watching me closely. "I was thinking more along the lines of hot, or sexy."
His voice drops on the last word and Tom's hand slides down, tightening around the back of my neck. Neither of us is kidding around any more as he pulls me up so that he can kiss me.
I wind up sprawled across Tom's lap with his cock pressing into my stomach. His mouth is hard and possessive on mine, definitely not playing games. I groan and open up for him, his tongue stabbing past my lips. Tom's fucking my mouth with rough, deep thrusts and I'm on the verge of coming in my pants almost before I have a chance to draw breath. I hurriedly reach down and grab my cock through my jeans to stop myself.
Tom obviously caught what I was doing because suddenly he's speaking, his lips moving just a hair's breadth away from mine.
"Fuck, Mike, I want you to come for me."
He snakes a hand down between us, covering mine. He applies enough pressure to make me gasp and it feels so damned good that I almost don't care if I do come, right now. But when I try to push more firmly against them, Tom eases our hands away from my cock.
I'm not sure if it's meant to be an apology for teasing me, but Tom's tongue suddenly licks a broad, wet trail over my lips. I try and catch the tip between my teeth, but he pulls away again too fast.
"I love to see your face when you come," Tom says roughly, and pushes our joined hands back against my crotch, hard. "So fucking hot, Mike."
"Shit, will you at least let me get out of my pants," I protest breathlessly. If Tom decides to start talking dirty to me I am going to lose it really fast here.
A quick nod and Tom lets go of me.
I scramble to my feet and reach down to undo my jeans with fingers that insist on shaking as I try to hurry. I am so screwed, and I know it. Right now I don't give a fuck, though. I just need to come. And Tom wants to watch me come. That's about as much as my brain is currently capable of dealing with.
A bit of maneuvering and I finally manage to kick free of my jeans and boxers, pulling off my socks at the same time. I'm about to get comfortable on the floor again when Tom suddenly decides I'm still not naked enough for his taste.
"The sweater too," he instructs, slowly looking me up and down.
I glance across at Tom, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. He's sitting there fully dressed and I'm about to strip completely. It makes me feel a little weird, but Tom is staring back at me, his expression insistent. And it's not like I don't trust him, I do.
Instead of overanalyzing this whole thing, I concentrate on what Tom looks like as he sits there and watches me. He's got his arms folded and the pose shows off the muscles in his arms and chest perfectly through his thin sweater. I have some very pleasant memories of Tom using that upper body strength of his to pin me down and fuck me through the mattress. That quickly, I'm starting to feel better about this situation.
Where Tom is facing the fire, the light from it is reflecting in his eyes and making them glow a deep green. I really don't need to be thinking about the set, filming and cheesy kryptonite special effects just now, but it's another distraction, so I go with it.
Without any more hesitation I pull my sweater up over my head, then toss it on the carpet beside me. I rub a hand across my chest, where the hair is just starting to grow back in after the last time the make up people made me get it waxed. I envy Tom the fact that he's naturally smooth, unlike me, because waxing hurts like hell.
Tom is looking very pleased with himself as I get down on my knees once more. The appreciative way his gaze is running over my body makes me feel confident again. I have no doubt that Tom likes what he sees. So I sit back on my heels and spread my thighs apart to give him a good view.
It feels strange and exciting all at the same time, knowing that Tom's eyes are trained on me as I lick the palm of my hand then wrap it around my cock. I start out stroking myself slowly, any more than that and I'll come right away.
It doesn't take long before I can hear Tom breathing hard. Watching me jerk off is really turning him on. And that makes this a lot hotter than I thought it would be, knowing how much he's getting off on it too.
Out the corner of my eye I see Tom open the fly of his jeans the rest of the way. I never did manage to get all the buttons undone before he started kissing me. He reaches inside and frees his own cock and I'm about to protest when I realize Tom's not trying to make himself come. Instead he's pressing hard at the base, making a tight circle of his fingers to prevent himself from coming too soon. He's saving it for me and I find myself licking my lips, looking forward to the pleasure of sucking Tom off, once this little display is over.
"Fuck, Mike, do it for me," Tom whispers harshly, dragging my attention away from his cock and back to his face. "Now!"
I meet Tom's gaze squarely as I grip my own cock more firmly, starting a fast, hard rhythm that I know will bring me off quickly. Tom said he wanted to see my face when I came, so that's what I'll give him. My fingers are getting slick with pre-come as I skim them over the head of my cock and I can feel the tightness in my balls. I'm so close.
Another few strokes and it hits me. My cock jerks in my hand and then it's spilling over my fingers, hot and sticky and just about perfect after being on the edge for this long. The release of all that tension is pretty incredible, forget any kind of poetic shit, it just feels damn good right now.
My mouth is hanging open and I'm gasping for breath, but I still hold Tom's eyes with my own. After coming so hard I feel my muscles shudder and then turn to water. I run my palms down my thighs to wipe off the come that's drying on them, then brace my hands on the floor to stay upright.
Tom is still watching me avidly, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He's looking even more pleased with himself than before, which probably means I started babbling his name when I came. My brain has a bad habit of turning to mush right around then and I can wind up saying things I don't intend to.
I'm still not sure why Tom wanted me to do this, but I have to admit it got me really hot, even if I did feel like the main attraction in some sex show. If he's starting to develop a few kinks, maybe I should think about taking Tom to one of the classier clubs I've discovered since moving to Vancouver. He might like it. I know I would, and it could be fun to add a little extra spice to our relationship.
Practically, I know it's probably out of the question. We're too recognizable now and there would be too much at stake if we were seen together at a place like that. All the same, I might suggest it anyway, just to see Tom's reaction. I'd like to know how far he's prepared to go for me.
A quiet moan draws my attention back to Tom. He's shifting on the couch, struggling out of his jeans and boxers before dropping back onto the seat. His cock is really hard, and the head looks red and swollen. That has got to be hurting by now. Tom's still got his fingers clasped around the base to keep him from coming.
I crawl over to him, settling myself between his bare legs. I can smell him and it makes me want to taste him too. Tom's saved this for me and I want his cock in my mouth and down my throat. I just really enjoy sucking him off.
Tom reaches out with one hand and grabs the back of my head, pulling me down towards his crotch. I think he's pretty much non- verbal at this stage. I run my hands slowly up his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles. Then I brace myself, palms down on either side of his hips, so that I can lean in and just swipe my tongue across the head of his cock.
When I repeat the gesture a second time, Tom draws in a sharp breath that sounds almost pained. I just keep licking him, catching the trails of pre-come that are leaking from the slit. I could happily do this all night, just savoring the taste of him, but there's an edge of desperation to Tom's moans so I decide not to make him wait any more.
Opening my mouth as wide as I can, I go down on Tom. I know what I'm doing, so I manage to take him in one smooth movement. His cock slips into my throat as I relax and swallow around the head. People throw the word cocksucker around like it's a bad thing, but when I can get the kind of reaction I'm getting from Tom now - the frantic, sexy noises he's making and the way his hands are urging me to take him deeper - I don't see it that way.
As I'm sucking him, I notice the faint traces of Tom's soap under the sharper tang of sweat on his skin. There's something real and down to earth about the way he tastes tonight and I like it better this way. I prefer it to the times when he's just come out of the shower and all I get is something artificial, nothing of Tom himself. Am I completely fucked up for wanting him to be just a little dirtied for me? Probably.
I shift my hands so they're resting on Tom's hips. Then I press down, stopping him from thrusting up into my mouth the way I know he wants to. Fair's fair, he got what he wanted earlier, so now this is my show and I'll take my sweet time, so that I can make it good for both of us.
I pull off of Tom slowly, ignoring his protests. Then I slide all the way back down, tightening my mouth around his cock as I do so. I let him feel just the barest scrape of my teeth, enough to drive him crazy without doing any damage.
Tom is bucking up against my hands, trying to fuck my mouth faster. I suck him firmly as I pull back a second time. Tom yells my name, and I can hear the desperation in his voice; he really needs to come. I ease off on my grip a little as I start to sink down again. Now that he can, Tom thrusts up hard and his cock jabs into my throat.
I have to fight my gag reflex for a moment, but I breathe through my nose and take it, letting Tom have the control as he starts to lose it. I can feel the tension vibrating through him as he gives a few more sharp thrusts and then tips over into orgasm. His cock floods my mouth with come, the pulses hitting the back of my throat. I swallow it as best I can, but some of it still spills over, trickling down my chin.
Tom is shaking as he rides out his climax and his hands clutch my head a little roughly. I guess it's a bit trickier when there's no hair to grab onto. As he calms down a bit, I swirl my tongue around his cock, licking away the last of his come as I finally pull off of him. That's Tom's cue to slump against the back of the couch, his chest heaving as he pants, trying to catch his breath.
I sit back on my heels and watch Tom slowly pull himself together. I draw my hand across my mouth, rubbing away the stray traces of his come. I'm feeling pleasantly mellow, glad to have taken the edge off, for both of us.
As soon as Tom recovers I want to take him upstairs to bed. When we're ready for round two I plan on fucking him and I want to do that somewhere more comfortable than the floor, or even my couch. As I have no idea how long it will be before we get to spend a whole night together again, this one is going to have to last us. I intend to make the most of it, and of Tom.