DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Birds and Broken Glass
Summary: Stuart and Vince take another step toward the inevitable.
Warnings: None
Author Notes:
Spoilers: QAF-1, set around eps 2 and 3.
"Just a minute," he called, discarding the little net on the table and drying his hands on his old, faded t-shirt. He opened the door to find Stuart standing there, gorgeous in a cobalt blue button-down that was open at the neck. The color made his eyes gleam like dark sapphires.
Stuart's hands were full of shopping bags and he regarded his friend's damp, battered shirt with a wrinkle of his nose. "I'm just in time," he said, stepping passed Vince in the doorway.
"You've been on answer phone all day," Vince said. "What have you been up to?"
"Spending Alfred's education fund." Stuart heaped the bags on Vince's couch then proceeded to rifle through them one by one. "I bought you some shirts."
Vince felt a sudden rush of blood through his whole body as he registered what was just said. Stuart had bought him things. He'd actually spent time in his day to think of Vince long enough to chose articles of clothing for him. Silently reproaching himself for even having such a self-deprecating thought, Vince shook his head and walked over to the couch.
"That's nice of you," he said. "But, I don't need-"
"Here." Finding what he was after in the sacks, Stuart held out a black sweater that looked soft enough to have been made from the fur on the bellies of kittens. "Put this on. Quick as you can, before this rag takes root in your skin." He tugged the sodden fabric of Vince's t-shirt. "Christ, get this off."
Vince rolled his eyes. "I was cleaning the bloody fish tank," he defended. "Was I meant to wear a tux for that?" He pulled the t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor by the television. To his amazement, he noted Stuart's eyes flitting up and down his own naked torso and he felt his cheeks burn. "I . . . have to wash me hands. I smell like fish shit." He walked into the kitchen and turned on the water in the sink, soaping his hands all the way up to his elbows.
Vince had been trying not to think about the other day in Stuart's flat-three days ago when they finally crossed the line and made sexual contact with each other. Of course it had been on his mind, but he was trying desperately not to obsess over it, allowing himself to think of it only when he was in bed. There, he would replay the details of the entire experience over and over until he just could not come any more. He'd actually made himself sore the day after it happened because he simply couldn't control himself. Vince didn't think he would ever get the chance to repeat that amazing encounter, but he was happy knowing he had it on file in his memory to access any time he wanted for as long as he lived.
Nothing had really changed between him and Stuart as a result of their impromptu sexual play. They'd seen each other every day and had gone out every night just like before and there hadn't been any tension or strain to speak of. It felt almost as though it was time for that to happen between them-like they were progressing naturally through the path of their relationship and sexual contact had been the next organic step.
Vince could hear Stuart rifling in the sacks again, then after a moment he walked into the kitchen. Vince was drying his hands and Stuart stepped behind him to open the fridge.
"Got anything to drink?"
"Yeah. What do you fancy?"
Stuart leaned on the open fridge door and peered in at the contents of the shelves. In the tight quarters of the narrow kitchen Vince was close enough to his friend to smell him. He took a deep, quiet breath, filling his lungs. When he exhaled, he could taste Stuart on his lips. Funny how that worked. Vince smiled and tossed the towel he'd been using onto the counter.
"I want a whiskey," Stuart declared.
"I have that. It's that nice bottle of Oban Marcie gave me at Christmas. You remember where I keep the spirits, or do you want me to serve you?"
Stuart regarded Vince with his chin lowered. "I am your guest."
"Piss off," Vince teased. "Get it yourself." He walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room where he found several fine shirts and sweaters laid out on top of the couch. The kitteny black one was at the front of the row. Apparently, Stuart liked this one the best.
Vince picked up the soft garment carefully, amazed at how delicate it felt in his hands. Checking the tag he wasn't at all surprised to find it was made of cashmere. Cashmere kitten bellies, he thought and smiled to himself. He opened the sweater and held it up, admiring the fine details of the collar and the subtle elegant way the sides tapered. "This is too nice, Stuart. Are you sure you want to give it to me. It would be lovely on you."
"I bought it for you," Stuart said. He'd located that nice bottle of Oban and was pouring himself a glass at Vince's little bar. "Do you want a drink?"
"Yeah, sure." Vince turned the sweater around and slipped it over his head, taking in a breath as the unbelievably soft fabric stroked his skin. He smoothed it over his torso with both hands, making sure the delicate folds of the collar were lying flat. The sleeves were designed to be overly long, the edges of them covering his palms to the first knuckles of his fingers.
Stuart stepped up behind him and Vince turned around. The brunette grinned salaciously, his teeth capturing the tip of his tongue. He looked Vince up and down slowly, devouring him without a word.
"Well?" Vince said, trying not to smile too hard. Stuart's expression had made his heart start hammering in his chest.
"It's great. How does it feel?"
Vince sighed. "Like . . . kittens."
Stuart handed his friend a glass of whiskey, still holding his intent, sexy gaze.
"Is this mine?" Vince said, taking a sip.
"We're sharing." Stuart closed the slight gap between them and stood flush against his friend. Wantonly, he pressed his hips forward and rubbed his half-hard cock against Vince's. "Been thinking about the other day?"
"It crossed my mind a few times," Vince said, staring back into those smoldering eyes.
Stuart laughed, softly, naughtily. "Me, too." He rubbed himself up and down again like a cat stroking against a soft piece of furniture. "Been thinking about it a lot, actually. Had a wank thinking about it yesterday."
Vince rubbed back with a slower, more deliberate rhythm. The idea of Stuart having a wank with him in mind had made him hard as a rock. He wanted his friend to feel every inch of it.
Leaning forward, Stuart extended his tongue and touched the tip of it to the edge of Vince's bottom lip. Then he moved back, eyes sparkling with mischief. He started unbuttoning his shirt. "I haven't had anyone since," he said.
Vince laughed a little, his brow lifting brightly. "That's been three days, Stuart. I'm surprised you haven't burst into flames."
"Fuck off," Stuart giggled, his fingers still working on his buttons. When he got to the last one, he let the shirt fall open exposing his smooth, defined torso. He reached for the glass and brought it to his lips, taking two deep swallows. "Touch me here," he said, moving his friend's right hand up to his chest. He laid Vince's palm flat on his skin then raised the glass again and drank.
The sleeve of the soft sweater still covered half of Vince's hand and he stroked Stuart's chest slowly, dragging out the combined sensation of his tender fingers and the luxurious cashmere. Stuart licked his lips and his eyes slid closed.
"See?" Vince said, quietly. "Kittens."
Stuart sighed deeply. "That's lovely. It almost gave me a hard-on when I saw it in the shop." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Touch my nipples."
Obliging the request, Vince directed his hand to his friend's right nipple, stroking the sleeve's edge over the dark pink bit of flesh. It hardened instantly under the gentle touch and Vince pressed his cock against Stuart's again. That brought a low, gravelly moan from the brunette and he smiled, lustfully.
"Oh, yes . . ." Stuart lifted the glass to Vince's lips and tipped it slightly so he could drink. "You know what I want, right?"
"Do I?" Vince said, playfully. He knew, all right.
Stuart stepped back then, turning briefly to set the glass down on the table by the couch. He shrugged off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, returning to stand flush against Vince again. He unzipped and reached for Vince's hand, guiding it directly to his cock. Tilting his head slightly to the right, he opened his lips and inserted his tongue into Vince's mouth. Vince kissed him ravenously, sucking on the plump lips and stroking Stuart's tongue with his own. His finger tips grazed the hot, slick head of Stuart's cock and he stroked the pad of his thumb over the throbbing vein that ran the length of the shaft. Carefully he kept the sleeve of the sweater away from Stuart's wet skin, even though he knew that was exactly what his best friend wanted.
"Vince," Stuart groaned, impatiently. "Do it . . ."
"It'll get dirty," Vince said, in mock seriousness. "Can you get semen out of cashmere?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake. I'll have it cleaned." Stuart tightened his hold on Vince's wrist, forcing it down, lower so there was no way to avoid his cock making contact with the silky sleeve. "You think that's funny, torturing me?"
Vince chuckled, his cheeks blushing furiously. "Yeah, I think it's fucking hilarious." He kissed Stuart again, roughly, lovingly, his fingers curling around the erect cock in his hand. He squeezed and pulled up in a long, slow stroke, making sure that every inch of Stuart's erection felt the caress of the cashmere.
Stuart moaned loudly, his head dropping back. "Oh, thaaaat's it!" He let go of Vince's wrist, apparently trusting that he would get what he wanted. His hands caressed their way up Vince's arms, stroking greedily, almost possessively. His blue eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed beautifully from the combination of the whiskey and his racing blood. He breathed hard.
Vince watched Stuart's face closely as his desire increased. He felt like he might die from joy that this was happening again-that he was pleasing Stuart again. His mind replayed the brief exchange they'd had a moment ago about how Stuart had been thinking of the other day . . . he'd thought of it a lot, he'd said. Vince couldn't imagine that Stuart Jones had thought as much about that morning as he had himself, but knowing it had been in his mind at all was extraordinary. And Stuart hadn't had anyone else since . . . or so he said. Vince wasn't so sure he believed that, but he wanted to more than anything. That would mean he'd made an impact on his insatiable friend. That he'd been a good enough lover to slow Stuart down for even a few days.
Kissing his way up Stuart's outstretched neck, Vince nibbled gently on his warm earlobe. "Do you want to come like this?" he whispered.
"Yes," Stuart gasped. "I've been . . . thinking about it . . . all day . . ." His fingers dug into Vince's arms and he added his own carnal rhythm to his friend's ministrations. Stuart's hips worked quickly, pumping his hard cock into the sheath of Vince's hand. He moaned deeply, his eyes closing again, and then he arched forward and caught his breath.
The fabric covering Vince's wrist suddenly became warm and wet and he could feel Stuart's cock shuddering in his grasp. It was another fierce, deep orgasm, just like the other day. This one also seemed to have been waiting there for ages. But that ever-present insecurity that lived inside him made Vince wonder if Stuart didn't always come that hard. If that was just the way it was for him. He'd only seen Stuart come three times-that moment included-so how could he know for sure? It was a great thought, though-that only he, Vincent Tyler, had the magic touch that could make Stuart Alan Jones come so hard he could barely breathe.
Of course, the cashmere most likely had a bit to do with it that day.
Suddenly, Vince was being kissed deeply, wetly, gratefully. Stuart's hands were in his hair, stroking his neck and making him shiver all over. Vince just closed his eyes and let himself be taken away. He slid his arms around his friend and pulled him close, hugging him and feeling his own erection burn against Stuart's taught belly.
Pulling out of the kiss, Stuart smiled into Vince's eyes, that ever present glint of mischief glowing there like an ember. "Now, take this off," he said, tugging the soft sweater up over Vince's head.
Vince watched as Stuart slipped the light, fuzzy garment over his own head, letting it slide down his lean body as though it wanted to touch him. Vince had been right. The sweater did look lovely on him. And the sleeves hung even lower over his graceful, expressive hands.
"Come here," Stuart purred. He was still rosy from coming and he looked like a devilish god with his black curls against that black sweater. He pulled Vince toward him and ran his silky fingers over Vince's bare chest. Turning his hands over, he stroked the cashmere over his friend's tender nipples, gently pinching them through the fabric with the backs of his fingers.
"Oh . . . my . . . God," Vince breathed, but that was all he could manage to say. He almost came right then from the incredible sensation. He swallowed and took a deep breath, steadying himself with his hands on Stuart's narrow hips.
"Isn't that brilliant?" Stuart smiled, leaning in for a kiss.
Vince moaned his agreement, his lips spread in a silly grin. He touched his forehead to Stuart's and rested his weight against him, tilting his hips up and forward to make contact with his friend's body.
Stuart nuzzled Vince's neck and ears, warming the skin and tingling the fine hairs there with his hot breath. His lips brushed the shell of Vince's earlobe and Stuart made a sound-a low, rumbly moan that was so much like the growling of a lion that Vince was almost afraid he might get bitten. For real. In a bad way. He pulled back slightly and looked at his friend with his eyes wide.
"What?" Stuart whispered.
"Just . . . that sound . . ."
"You don't like it?" Stuart leaned in close and snuggled his ear, once again emitting that low, throaty growl.
Vince shivered, his skin crawling slightly. He couldn't believe there was anything sexual Stuart could do that he wouldn't like, but there it was. He breathed a self-conscious laugh. "I reckon I don't like it, although I've no idea why."
"All right," Stuart cooed. "Most of my shags love that."
They looked at each other intently, eyes locked for a moment. Vince kept his smile on but he was chilled inside at the mention of Stuart's other lovers. He knew they had made no further commitments to each other as a result of this new dimension in their friendship, but it still hurt to be reminded that Stuart was still not really his. Patience, he told himself. If I'm patient, I'll win him.
"Right," Stuart said, smiling. "No growling for you." He closed the distance between them again and nibbled Vince's neck, brushing his slight afternoon stubble against the tender skin. "How's that?"
Vince's body heated instantly and he was tingling again. "That's . . . good," he sighed. "Yeah . . . nice." He kissed Stuart's smooth cheek sweetly.
Finger tips and silky cashmere traced down Vince's belly and he felt his trousers being undone. He didn't want to open his eyes, he just wanted to feel the pleasure and take in all the sensations at once: Stuart kissing his neck, nuzzling his ear, their bodies pressed tightly together, nipples brushing, his warms fingers finding then stroking Vince's cock, the delicious tickle of the cashmere on that sensitive skin, the enticing smell of Stuart's hair and the way those curls tickled his nose as he buried his face there. His mind registered all these things as one thing, not as individual experiences. It was a jumble of sensory input and suddenly Vince was coming, moaning against his best friend's shoulder, the orgasm tearing through him in a convulsing storm of pleasure and heat.
Stuart put his arms around him and placed a line of kisses from the center of his forehead down to his lips where he lingered. Vince was still catching his breath and his eyes remained closed.
"Nice?" Stuart whispered.
Vince only nodded. Then he felt Stuart's hands on his face and he finally opened his eyes. Everything in the room seemed brighter, sharper like a fresh cocaine high. Vince took a deep breath and let it out, still steadying himself with his hands on Stuart's hips.
The beautiful brunette was smiling at him, proudly. "Wanna see what else I bought you?"
Feeling a bit more stable, Vince laughed softly. "Yeah," he said. "Sure."
Stuart turned back to the couch where he'd lined up the purchases he'd made earlier that day. He selected a dark brown short sleeved shirt from the row, holding it up to his own body so Vince could see it. "I like this one, too," he said.
"At least it looks easier to clean," Vince said. He rearranged some of the bags then collapsed on the couch between two of them. Other than his wobbly legs, he felt completely wonderful. Amazing how something as simple as an orgasm could change one's entire perspective.
Stuart tossed the shirt on the couch, his hands landing on his lean hips. "You don't even care about the clothes, do you?"
"I do. It's lovely that you did that for me. I'm just . . . I have to rest for a bit. I can't think yet."
Stuart watched him for a moment then his brow crinkled and he collected the items on top of the couch, carting them off into the bedroom. From where he sat, Vince could hear drawers opening and hangers jingling. Curiously, he made himself get up and walk over to the bedroom doorway.
Stuart was hanging up the clothes and putting them in the wardrobe with quick, clipped gestures. This was a tantrum of sorts-the Stuart Jones way of expressing boredom or frustration. Vince leaned in the doorway and tried not to laugh as he watched his best friend carry out his little performance.
"I see," Vince said. "If I don't want to look at them right now, I might as well not look at them at all."
"Just wear them if you want," Stuart retorted. "You don't have to try them on." He opened and closed several drawers in the bureau before he found the one containing sweaters. Into this drawer, he placed two other new folded garments then he pushed the drawer closed with a solid thud.
"What if they don't fit?" Vince asked, knowing he was treading on thin ice with his friend. Stuart was in a mood now and toying with him would have only one result. Still, it was irresistible.
"They'll fit, Vince. I know your size." Stuart stood at the foot of the bed regarding his friend with an irritated frown. He looked like a kid who'd just been sent to his room and Vince couldn't take it anymore. He started laughing uncontrollably and Stuart glowered at him.
"What is so bloody funny?"
Shaking his head, Vince walked over to his friend and shoved him backwards onto the bed, pinning him down with his hands over his head. Stuart wriggled in protest, but only for a moment. Then his cranky frown softened into his typical devilish grin and he shifted under his captor, pulling his legs free then wrapping them around Vince's waste. He raised up his hips until their bodies connected, pulling Vince down simultaneously with his thighs. Vince kissed him, letting go of Stuart's wrists so he could touch those curls again.
"Do you know what?" Stuart said against the kiss.
"What?"
"I think you should have me."
Vince blinked, looking down at him with wide eyes. He could not believe what he was hearing. "You're joking, right?"
"No. I think you should fuck me, Vince. Right now." He writhed on the bed, rubbing against Vince slowly. "Don't you want to?"
With his fingers still stroking those soft dark curls, Vince took a deep breath and actually thought about the question. "I . . . don't know. I never thought it would be like that."
Stuart's eyes flashed with a cold brilliance that made Vince recoil very slightly. He was familiar with that look and he knew it was a precursor to something-a remark or an action-that would smart terribly. It was clear they both knew it. Stuart's hands caressed Vince's sides and back gently, as though he were soothing an anxious pet about to receive an injection.
"But you have thought about it, right?" Stuart said. "Shagging me?"
Knowing he couldn't escape being seen, Vince cringed as he felt his face color with blush. Stuart giggled beneath him, low and mildly wicked, and he chewed Vince's bottom lip.
"I'll do it if you want," Stuart said. "I'm happy to, in fact. I just thought you might want to have me. You know . . . give me a good fuck because I bloody deserve it, being such a bastard and all."
"Yeah," Vince said, rolling over on his side on the bed. He kept one hand behind Stuart's neck, almost unconsciously stroking the satiny hair at the nape, but he couldn't look at him.
"What?" Stuart said.
Shaking his head, Vince sighed. He had nothing to lose by speaking his mind at that point. A discussion he never thought would occur in his lifetime was actually happening. No sense missing the opportunity to be honest. "I don't want it be like that," he said, quietly.
"Like what?"
"Like . . . angry, like that." He looked at Stuart then and was surprised to his friend's expression. He had gone slightly pale and his dark eyes fixed Vince intensely.
"I didn't mean that," he said, seriously. "I just meant . . . I don't know. I was playing. Forget it. Come back." He rolled closer to Vince on the bed, snuggling and burying his nose in the crook of his neck.
Vince closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in that intoxicating scent again. God, he loved the way that man smelled. He thought of them sleeping together for hours on the couch three days ago and once again he wished he could have been awake for that. He would have laid there the whole time just listening to Stuart breathe.
"Tell me the truth," Stuart said, softly. He looked up into Vince's eyes. "Do you want to? Really?"
"Don't be daft," Vince said, smiling. "You know I do."
"Think about it, Vince. Really think. Do you want us to shag?"
"Do you?" he said after a long moment.
Stuart's eyes glinted and he smiled, seductively. "Well, you've got my attention now, don't you? I got a little taste and I had to come back. I mean, now I don't know why we haven't been doing this the whole time."
Vince shrugged. "I wasn't going to waste my time on some amateur, Stuart. You needed your practice!"
Laughing, Stuart pushed him onto his back, climbing on top and straddling him. He pinched Vince's belly, playfully. "I could tickle you again."
"No," he said, definitely.
Stuart giggled, pulling his fingers through his disheveled hair, arranging the shiny curls back in place. He watched his friend's face closely. "I think we should do it. That's my opinion. Cut the crap and just do it."
Vince nodded, feeling his cheeks darken again. He didn't mind that time, though. "Maybe I want to keep your attention for a while," he offered. "Play hard to get."
Stuart shook his head. "Oh, don't think I'm going to let you do that for long!"
Vince placed his hand on Stuart's flat, tanned belly and caressed the warm skin lightly. He recalled the image from three days ago of Stuart lying on his back on the couch, toying with the hairs on his belly and teasing his swelling cock through his black shorts. That had been one of Vince's favorite parts of the whole experience-watching Stuart touching himself. His mind had recorded everything he saw, cataloging the places he kept returning to, noting the amount of pressure he'd used, the duration of each touch. Vince wanted to store all that information and keep it close at hand. He wanted to amaze Stuart Jones by being his best lover-ever.
Neither of them had bothered to get fully dressed after sharing the cashmere sweater, so Vince simply pushed Stuart's open trousers down his hips and with a few slight movements, they were discarded on the floor. Stuart tugged the soft sweater over his head and tossed it aside, as well, then he proceeded to add Vince's trousers and shorts to the pile. Bending over slowly, Stuart kissed his friend deeply, rubbing their noses together like cats nuzzling a greeting. Sometimes Stuart was so feline in his behavior that Vince could swear he was going to start licking himself.
"I'm going to get you a ball of string and some catnip," he said, smiling.
Stuart smiled back, starting down Vince's belly with long licks-tongue bathing. It was lovely. Vince sighed, relaxing back on the bed, prepared to just enjoy himself when his mind started tossing around fragments of the conversation they'd had three days ago. He tried to blank everything out and just get into the physical pleasure, but once he started thinking about things like that, there was no stopping it. One thing in particular kept coming to the forefront of his thoughts and once it was there, it became so important that he just had to ask. "Is that really all you said?"
"What?" Stuart had been kissing Vince's thighs very gently and when he looked up, his dark eyes were hovering above his lover's swollen erection.
Vince paid no attention to this, he just repeated and clarified his question. "Is that really all you said to Nathan? You just asked him if he'd had a good night?"
Stuart blinked, then shook his head, laughing. "You're such a twat. Why the fuck are you thinking about that right now?"
Vince shook his head because he had no idea why that had come into his mind just then. "We never finished that . . . not that I want to hear the rest of what you did to him, but I guess I . . . never figured out what you said. And why he came with you. Why they all come with you."
Spreading his hands, Stuart offered his most coquettish smile. "Vince, sweetheart, if you'd let me shag you, then you would know."
"I haven't said no. I just . . ."
"You don't want to do it right now," Stuart finished for him. "I know. But you will. And, believe it or not, I can be patient. I can wait." He extended his tongue and caressed Vince's cock head with the tip of it. "I have the feeling you'll be worth it."
"After sixteen years, I certainly hope I am." Vince smiled as his body tingled from the sensation of having his cock licked. He watched as Stuart circled the crown and dabbed his tongue into the leaking slit. Breathlessly, he waited to be sucked all the way in and he trembled with anticipation.
Finally, with his fingers circling Vince's nipples, Stuart engulfed his cock all the way down to his pubic hair, twirling his tongue around the shaft inside his mouth, then sucking up slowly, firmly.
Vince shivered, his eyes sliding closed instinctively, but then he opened them again and focused on Stuart's activities. He didn't want to miss any of the visual stimulation. His cock throbbed and felt impossibly engorged but it still seemed to want to grow even more in the hot wetness of Stuart's mouth. He moaned his encouragement and pet those silky curls lovingly.
Without losing his hold, Stuart moved gracefully on the bed so his body was alongside Vince's. He leaned over his friend's body, one arm on each side, sucking up and down in long strokes.
Vince turned his head to the right and saw how hard Stuart was, his cock dark and wet at the tip and only about a foot away from Vince's hungry mouth. He reached over and guided Stuart's hips toward him, tilting up his chin as his lover's thighs settled on either side of his head. Stuart's cock slid effortlessly into his waiting mouth and Vince bathed the salty head with his tongue. Taking Stuart's cock into his throat, Vince had to raise up slightly to create the proper passage way so he wouldn't choke. Stuart wasn't huge but he was bigger than most of the men Vince's had been with. His cock was thick and taught and it felt wonderful in Vince's mouth. He inhaled the warm, musky scent of Stuart's lush pubic hair, closing his eyes and losing himself in that ocean of sensation.
After a moment, there seemed to be no separation between them. They were as connected as two humans could be, breathing as one, moving as one, their rhythm keeping perfect time with their heartbeats. Vince didn't know when he started to come or when Stuart's semen began filling his mouth. He was only aware of an on-going tide of pulsating pleasure that seemed to be endless. He had certainly done this position before with other lovers, but Vince realized he had clearly never done it right before then. He'd never felt anything like that.
In one fluid motion, Stuart rolled off him and turned around so they were facing each other. Vince wrapped him up in as tight an embrace as he felt Stuart would allow. They laid against each other for a long time, just breathing and lightly caressing each other's skin. In Vince's mind, that moment defined the term `afterglow' and he had never been so much in love.
After a while, he felt Stuart relax against him and his respiration became even and deep. Tugging the rumpled blankets, Vince covered them both as best he could without moving too much. Nestling against his friend in that warm tangle of limbs, Vince laid there awake for hours just listening to Stuart breathe.
Home Page