DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Love Bruise
Summary: Stuart and Vince take the plunge. So, what next?
Warnings: None
Author Notes: I'm playing with Russell's time line a bit and "moving" the arrival of Cameron Roberts back so I can use it for another purpose. For all you Cameron fans, have no fear. He's coming along soon. I just wanted Vince and Stuart to have a bit more time with this for now.
Spoilers: QAF-1, somewhere between Ep. 4 and Ep. 5.
Turning a pen end over end on his desk, Stuart stared out his office window at the gray city. It had been raining since dawn and the street gutters were running with mud and dead leaves. Normally, he hated the rain but today it struck him as beautiful. Cleansing, in a way.
He had listened to Sandra answer his calls all day but he'd refused every one of them. He didn't want to work. He was far too distracted.
Just after lunch, she appeared in the doorway, her arms folded over her waist. "Are you ill?" she said.
"Nope."
"Just don't want to speak to anyone?"
He pursed his lips, thoughtfully. "Sandra, what's the most romantic thing your husband ever did for you?"
She raised her eyebrows, sardonically. "What's this? A personal question? You should have let me sit down first."
He scowled. "Yeah, yeah. I'm so self-absorbed. Seriously, though. I need some ideas."
"Well," she said, considering the question. "You could always go with the old standards: red roses, sweet nothings on a nice card, some champagne and candle light. Sexy food you can eat with your fingers is always good. What is this, anyway, Stuart? I can't imagine you, of all people, would have to resort to such measures just to get shagged. Is some bloke actually playing hard to get?"
He laughed to himself at her choice of words. "Believe it or not," he answered. "Some bloke is. And I'm finding the challenge quite interesting." Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was nearly 2:30. Vince had the early shift that day so he hadn't taken the jeep. He had to be at work at the same time Stuart was getting up. That meant he would be off at 4:00.
Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, Stuart passed her in the doorway. "I'm out the rest of the day. My mobile's on if you need me."
"Right," Sandra said, grinning after him. "Good luck."
"I might actually need it." He gave her a wink as he headed down the stairs.
It took him almost an hour in WH Smith to find the right card. Stuart was crap at that sort of thing, but he knew it had to be right. Vince was very sentimental and he knew his friend would likely save the card forever, so he wanted to make sure he chose something worthy. In the end, he selected one that was blank inside with a black and white photo on the front of two little boys making a sand castle on the sea shore. One of the boys had dark hair and the other was blonde. The dark-haired boy was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of the sportswear company No Fear across the back. Big, slashy letters: No Fear. It made Stuart laugh so he bought it.
After stopping at his favorite florist, he drove to Vince's with the card and two dozen freshly cut red roses on the passenger seat. Out in front of Vince's building, he sat in the jeep with the card spread flat on the dash, trying to think of what to write. Sweet nothings were not his specialty. After a moment, he scrawled a few lines then signed it, licking the adhesive to seal it. Writing Vince's name across the front, he tucked the card into the bunch of roses then carried them up to the building's front door.
Inside the hall, Stuart took out his keys and searched through the ring to find the duplicate he'd only recently acquired. It was after Phil's funeral that they exchanged keys. Just in case. Wouldn't want to be lying dead for four days and have no one know. The thought made Stuart shiver.
He rapped on the door just to be sure, then he unlocked it and went into the small, quiet flat. The fish tank burbled next to the wall and he could hear the fridge humming in the kitchen. The place smelled like Vince. He set the flowers on the small kitchen table where Vince would see them as soon as he walked in. Leaning the card against the crinkly paper wrapped around the roses, Stuart stood back a bit to view the complete display. Perfect.
He smiled and let himself out, making sure to pull the door hard and lock it as he left.
Vince:
It had been a horrible day full of annoying customers and employee hassles-even an incident of food poisoning from a packet of cheese someone bought. The dismal weather wasn't helping his mood, either. It had taken him ages to get a taxi from the shop. All Vince wanted was to go home, sink into a hot bath and not speak to anyone else until morning. He didn't even call Stuart on the way home, even though it was his routine do to so. Call and find out what the plan was for the evening, where to meet, what Stuart fancied for dinner. But that night he just wanted to be on his own. He reckoned he'd call later.
When he opened the door to his flat, it was the scent that registered first. Roses. Sweet and fragrant. And then he saw them on the kitchen table with that little white envelope propped against them. He glanced around quickly to make sure he was on his own, then he closed the door and walked over to the table.
"Oh my God," he said, amazed. He pressed his nose into the cluster of blooms, inhaling deeply. They were so fresh and huge and beautiful. They must have cost a fortune. He picked up the envelope, recognizing Stuart's handwriting. He almost exploded from happiness as he slit open the card.
He lingered over the photo on the front for a moment, smiling at the innocent image. No Fear, eh? Chance'd be a fine thing. Opening the card, he read the three short lines printed there twice before he actually processed them in his mind.
Come to mine. Let yourself in. Bring your toothbrush.
This was it, then. Stuart was finished waiting. Finished letting Vince play hard to get, as if that was what he was doing, anyway. They both knew the only reason they hadn't completed this transition was because Vince was scared to death. He was still scared. Reading the lines a third time, he closed the card and held it against his chest, taking a deep, shaky breath. Okay. Right. He could do this.
Taking the roses into the kitchen, he looked around for something to put them in. The largest vessel he had that would hold water was a glass pitcher someone had left at his flat after a party one night. He filled it and unwrapped the roses, stuffing as many of them into the pitcher as would fit. There were still about fifteen of them left so he proceeded to trim their long stems and place them in water glasses all around the flat. He even put a glass in the bathroom. It was nice, that. The whole place smelled like a flower shop.
The card was placed on the night table by Vince's bed next to two of the loveliest roses in the bunch.
He took a long shower, washing everywhere very carefully, then he stood in front of his wardrobe with a towel around his waist staring at the row of clothes hanging there. He took out the dark brown shirt Stuart had given him the other day and laid it on the bed. Stuart had said he liked that one and Vince had yet to wear it. In the two days since their last sexual encounter, Vince had gone through his wardrobe and bureau and taken out the shirts and sweaters Stuart bought him to try on. Each of them had fit perfectly and they were all lovely. He couldn't have chosen them better for himself.
After another few moments of deliberating, he selected a pair of black trousers that he always felt good in. Stuart had seen all of his clothes a thousand times, it didn't really matter what he wore. But Vince wanted to look nice when he arrived. He wanted to look like he'd gone to a lot of trouble to prepare himself for this.
He got dressed, checking his progress in the full-length mirror as he went along, then once he'd pulled everything together, he stood looking at his reflection one last time. As he often did, he spoke to his image in the mirror.
"Scared," he said, nodding to confirm. "Yeah. Scared half mental."
He sighed and set about packing an overnight bag, hoping the activity itself would take his mind off why he was doing it. A change of clothes and the necessary toiletries-he laughed when he packed his toothbrush. While he was in the bathroom, he grabbed an extra condom just for good measure and chucked it in the bag.
One last check of the flat and he was off, grabbing his jacket on the way out the door. Vince could still smell the roses all the way down the stairs.
Stuart:
As he surveyed his flat, Stuart wondered if he hadn't gone a bit too far.
Candles glowed on every available surface and the bed was adorned in satin sheets. A bottle of Veuve Clicquot 1990 was chilling on the bar and a whole assortment of sensual, interesting finger foods were keeping their cool in the fridge. He'd bought strawberries and fresh honeydew and some hot house ripened peaches. There was a nice brie and some fancy crackers, as well. Stuart had been slightly dismayed that he hadn't known if Vince liked caviar. He thought he knew everything Vince liked. But he bought it, anyway, and it was in there along with some lovely chocolate truffles. Those he knew for sure Vince liked.
Glancing at the clock, he figured he had about ten more minutes before his friend arrived, so he went to the bedroom to get dressed. Stuart counted on the fact that Vince would still be a bit reluctant, so he played another one of his aces. He put on a fuzzy, dark red turtle neck that he knew Vince loved on him and some soft black sweat pants. Easy access, easy removal. He'd shagged a bloke a few months ago that was a professional photographer and he said Stuart's body had wonderful "negative space"-all the shadows around the curves and the spaces that outlined his musculature. These simple garments hung on Stuart's lean body beautifully, accenting his negative space.
Running his fingers through his hair, he made sure his curls was soft, no tangles. Vince would undoubtedly be digging his hands in it all night, pulling on it. Stuart smiled, feeling himself start to get hard. Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.
As he stood there admiring himself in the mirror, he heard the lock turn in the front door. Keys jangled and then Vince came in, his golden hair sparkling with rain drops. The color of that shirt looked great on him, Stuart thought. That deep brown made his skin glow. He was scared, though. Stuart could tell from across the room. Apparently, he had his work cut out for him.
Smiling, Stuart stepped down from the bedroom and crossed the large, hardwood floor to where his friend stood. He stroked his hands over Vince's close-cropped hair, brushing the rain drops away. He thought it was best to establish contact immediately.
"You got wet," he said.
"Yeah. It's chucking down." Vince dropped his bag on the floor and pulled the door closed, then he slid his arms around Stuart and hugged him tightly. "The roses are completely fantastic. Thank you."
Nuzzling Vince's warm neck, Stuart put a kiss there. "I thought you might fancy a bit of romance."
"Christ," Vince said, giggling. He shook his head, looking in Stuart's eyes. "I'm just going to be laughing. You know that."
"So, laugh," Stuart said. "Sex is meant to be fun, isn't it? I always thought it was." He kissed Vince properly on the lips, softly, but only once. Teasing to the point of desperation was another card he could play if necessary. But he didn't think it would be necessary. His Vince just needed to relax a little.
Vince's hands were resting on his waist and he looked Stuart up and down. "I love that sweater. You look gorgeous in that."
"It's ages old," he said. "But you always tell me that when I wear it. Puffs up my ego."
"Yeah, like you need that."
Stuart nudged him with his hips, giving him just the slightest brush of his burgeoning erection. "Are you hungry?"
Vince sighed. "I . . . I'm all birds and broken glass inside right now. Maybe later I'll want to eat."
"You need a drink," Stuart said, taking Vince's hand and leading him to the kitchen.
Vince parked himself on a bar stool and watched while Stuart poured the Champagne into two slender flute glasses. Stuart handed him one, then leaned on the counter, his hip touching Vince's knee.
"You want to make a toast?"
"Like what? Here's to our first proper shag?" Vince smiled, shyly and Stuart almost kissed him again. Sometimes he had no idea how precious and vulnerable he looked.
"Why are you so nervous, Vince? It's just me."
"Yeah," he said. "Just you." He looked at Stuart for a long moment, his pretty blue eyes full of so many emotions at once that Stuart couldn't tell which one was dominant. In those familiar eyes he saw fear, excitement, love, lust, wonder, admiration and uncertainty.
"Stop it, you're breaking my heart," Stuart said, then he did kiss him, over the top of the glasses with the delicate Champagne bubbles fizzing madly between them. "You make me feel like a god when you look at me like that."
"Do I look at you like that often?" Vince asked, clearly embarrassed that he'd shown so much in one expression-and that he might have done it with some regularity.
"No . . ." Stuart hedged, not wanting to tell the truth that Vince looked at him like that almost all the time. "Just once in a while I'll catch you doing it." He touched the edge of his glass to Vince's. "I don't deserve all that, you know? What I see in there now. Least of all from you." He scanned Vince's eyes at close range, then kissed him again, softly.
"You certainly don't," Vince whispered. "But that does nothing to change it." He touched his glass to Stuart's very lightly. "Well, then. Here's to you deserving me."
"Twat," Stuart laughed, softly. They both took a sip of the fine Champagne.
"Blimey," Vince said, looking at the glass with wide eyes. He reached for the bottle in the ice bucket and pulled it out, reading the label out loud. "Veuve Cliquot," he said, purposely mangling the pronunciation. "La Grande Dame Rose, 1990. Good year." He nodded, approvingly, like he knew what he was talking about and they both laughed.
"It was recommended," Stuart said. "It's supposed to be really good. Don't you like it?"
"It's lovely, really. But, I don't think I'd know if it was shit."
Stuart shrugged, smiling. "Let's just drink it, then." He walked over to the fridge and opened it, holding the door all the way out so Vince could see the contents from where he sat. "If you do get hungry, I've got loads of fun food."
"Jesus, what have you done?!" Vince slid off the bar stool and walked over to the fridge, staring inside incredulously. "Were you expecting a bloody army?"
"Yeah, well, I figured you'd be nervous-it being our first time and all-so I thought I'd have a few people over to watch and cheer you on," Stuart teased. "You know, break the ice."
Vince nodded, playing along. "Right. Good plan. I suppose you invited my mother so she could interrupt at just the right moment?"
Stuart leaned forward, laughing hard. "Oh, fuck-could you imagine? What is Hazel doing tonight, just in case?"
"She's got her hands full with that Nathan and all his drama," Vince said.
Stuart's jaw clenched momentarily, waiting to see if Vince was going to have a go at him about Nathan crashing at his mother's house. He hoped they could avoid that subject just for this evening. It would be a certain mood-breaker. Blessedly, Vince seemed uninterested in pursuing that topic. He sat down on the floor of the kitchen in front of the open fridge door, reaching in to pull out a small tray of fruit. Stuart went back to the bar for the bottle, then sat beside his friend.
Vince pinched an enormous strawberry between his fingers and took it off the tray, holding it up to inspect it. "This is unnatural."
"They're really nice, though. Here." Stuart took the large berry in his own fingers and held it out for Vince to bite. "They're excellent with Champagne for some reason."
Vince opened his mouth over the tip of the very red strawberry, covering the rough skin of it with his lips. He watched Stuart's face as he took a bite, his blue eyes intent and coyly seductive. After, Stuart took a bite of the berry then set aside the remaining hunk along with the stem. He chewed for a moment, focusing on his friend's eyes, then he leaned in and opened his lips against Vince's. They extended their tongues into each other's mouths and mixed the bits of strawberry together with their saliva, trading the sweet flesh back and forth with their stroking tongues, the sugary fruit melding deliciously with the faint taste of Champagne. This went on for what seemed like ages, then the luscious kiss came to an end with them both swallowing small bits of the strawberry.
"Mmm," Vince breathed. "This borders on kinky. It's bloody `Nine Weeks'."
Stuart grinned, refilling their glasses. "I get to be Mickey Rourke."
"Fine, but you're not getting me in a blind fold," Vince said. "Knowing you, you'd be the first one out with the jalapeo as soon as I had it on."
Stuart shook his head, but he couldn't help laughing. "You don't trust me at all, do you?"
"Oh, don't go there." Vince raised his eyebrows, playfully. "We're supposed to be having fun, aren't we?"
"Yeah." Stuart looked at him soberly for a moment. "I suppose that's my own fault, anyway."
Looking away, Vince reached back into the fridge to sample another item. This time he chose one of the beautifully decorated chocolate truffles. "Oh, my God. What is this?"
Grinning happily about his choice, Stuart watched as Vince took a bite of the soft, dark confectionery, moaning with pleasure at the taste.
"Oh, Stuart . . . that's lovely. Where did you get these?"
"I made them," he said, seriously.
This got them laughing again, then Vince fed the rest of the small delicacy to Stuart. Christ, they were nice. So silky and not too sweet.
"There's cheese and stuff, too."
"Nah," Vince said, taking the tray of fruit and the plate of truffles off their current shelves and transferring them to the rack at the bottom of the fridge. Now they were in easy reach. "I want sweet things." He sipped his Champagne then selected a plump slice of honeydew melon. He held it up for Stuart to bite.
"Wait," Stuart said, shifting their glasses to the side. "Come here. Get in my lap."
Vince scooted the short distance along the floor and slipped his legs around Stuart's hips, tucking in as close as he could get and still sit comfortably. They kissed again, wetly, edges of teeth gently grazing tender lips. Stuart slowly unbuttoned Vince's shirt, opening it just enough to get his hands inside and stroke the warm skin of his belly.
Against Vince's ear, he whispered roughly. "I'm going to get you so hot, you won't remember your own name."
"Yeah?" Vince whispered back, eagerly. "And then what?" Apparently he liked this sort of talk, so Stuart continued.
"Then I'm going to lick every inch of you . . . I'm going to put my tongue up inside you and taste you and stroke you . . . I'm going to fuck you with my tongue until you beg me to stop . . ." He chewed Vince's tender earlobe but he took care not to growl-even though he felt very much like growling.
Vince pressed against him, sighing. Stuart could feel Vince's erection straining in his trousers, reaching for him. With his fingers, he deftly unzipped and pushed aside Vince's fly, reaching in and rubbing the hot, swollen shaft with his fist. He wet his finger tips in the slick moisture accumulating at the cock head and stroked the edge of the satiny crown in slow, feathery circles. Just enough pressure to feel incredible but not enough stimulation to make him come. Vince trembled, lowering his head on Stuart's shoulder.
"I'm going to give you all of my best, Vince," he went on, his voice low and sandpapery. "Every fantastic thing I know how to do, I'm going to do to you. I'm going to torture you with pleasure . . ."
Right on schedule, Vince's fingers traced up his back and wove themselves into Stuart's hair at the nape of his neck, tugging the curls in that hungry, possessive way he had. This action always made Stuart's nipples and anus tingle. He loved having his hair touched and he never seemed to have to ask for it. Everyone he shagged played with his hair. But the way Vince did it was different. Vince's touch was covetous, greedy. Fantastic. A lover's touch.
Still fingering the edge of the engorged cock head in his hand, Stuart continued his gentle verbal onslaught. "I'm going to fuck you all night . . . you've never felt as good as I'm going to make you feel tonight . . ." With the pad of his thumb, Stuart caressed the pulsing vein along the back of Vince's cock, teasing the bundle of nerve endings at the top of the vein each time he returned to the slit to replenish the lubrication.
"Stuart . . ." Vince gasped. "God, I need to come so bad . . . please . . . please make me come. I'm going to pass out . . ."
"Shhhhh . . ." Stuart silenced him with a hot, slippery kiss, sucking Vince's tongue deep into his mouth. It had been his intention from the start to make Vince come quickly at first so he would be more relaxed for the rest of the night's activities.
Vince urged his body forward even more, into the touch, raising his hips up to increase the stimulation. They kissed fiercely and Vince's breathing became a harsh, desperate rasp. Stuart made a fist and slid it down the burning shaft, pumping relentlessly, drawing the hot seed up to the throbbing head.
Shaking and trying to catch his breath, Vince cried out and closed his eyes, all but fucking Stuart's tight, gentle fist as he came for the first time that night. He moaned loudly, unabashedly, his cheeks and throat flushing crimson as his blood rushed.
Stuart smiled lustfully watching him, knowing Vince felt safe enough to let himself go. He slowed his caresses until he was barely moving, once again returning to that feathery touch barely perceptible along the edge of the crown.
Vince laid on his back on the kitchen floor, gasping. "Christ," he said. "You need your own 0898 number."
Stuart chuckled, reaching for his glass and taking two deep gulps of Champagne. His own cock was hard and tingling but he wasn't in pain. He wanted to save that first erection for fucking. "Here." He held out Vince's glass and waited for his friend to compose himself enough to sit up.
Using his arms to push himself upright, Vince took the glass and sipped from it, but he didn't drink much. He turned to the fridge and peered inside briefly until he found what he wanted. Reaching in around a tin of caviar, he took out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. He drank almost half of it before he stopped for air, rolling the cold container against his flushed face.
Stuart watched all this with a proud smirk, loving the expression on his friend's face. Vince wore the glow of carnal lust beautifully and Stuart couldn't wait to raise that blush on him again. He was becoming addicted to making Vince come-to witnessing his complete surrender to the pleasure. Stuart could feel it as it happened, like it was happening to him at the same time. The most interesting thing about it was that Vince Tyler had no concept of his own sensuality. He had no idea how erotic he was. The way he had to touch everything instead of just looking, the way he loved food and the way he always commented on smells before anyone else noticed them. His senses were heightened all the time and Stuart was just beginning to realize why that was. Vince's sensual reactions were in constant overdrive because he'd spent the last sixteen years of his life completely and madly in love.
"Want some?" Vince said, offering the open bottle.
Stuart took it and drank deeply, then he stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, then. Things to do."
Smiling shyly, Vince allowed Stuart to help him to his feet. He pushed the fridge door closed unconsciously, then they started out of the kitchen toward the bedroom. Stuart lead him by his hand.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Vince asked.
"What?"
"Made me come that quickly."
Taking the two steps up to the bedroom, Stuart grinned over his shoulder. "Didn't want you to be overly excited when I shagged you. You'd come too soon."
"What about you? You didn't let me reciprocate."
"I'm fine, luv. I had a wank this morning." Stuart set the bottle on a corner of the night table where there wasn't a glowing candle, then he tugged off his red sweater.
"How often do you . . ." Vince began, but he stopped himself. Stuart knew what he was going to ask.
"Come?" He winked, tossing the sweater on the floor and then crawling onto the bed. He sprawled out on his side on the satin sheets, propping a pillow under his head and looked back at his friend. He posed a bit, showing off the smooth slope of his hip.
"Yeah," Vince said, his blue eyes travelling the length of Stuart's body appreciatively. "I mean, how many times in a day? Normally."
Stuart breathed a laugh, his tongue peeking out between his front teeth. "I need lots of sex, Vince."
"You know, I've spotted that," Vince said, smiling. He took off his own shirt then discarded his trousers, sliding onto the bed in his white cotton shorts. "But, how much is a lot? I mean, let's just say you had some sort of medical condition and you were forbidden by your doctor to shag anyone for a week. How often would you have to service yourself so you wouldn't die from the build-up?"
"Do you have any idea how much you chatter?" Stuart teased. "Christ, you just witter on forever!"
Vince laughed, snuggling up against his friend. "I've always done that. It's Hazel's fault. So? How many times?" He nuzzled Stuart's ear, kissing the tender skin just behind it.
Stuart shivered from the contact and had to concentrate for a moment, trying not to get too aroused. He was still very hard and his instinct was urging him to pounce, but he wanted to wait-to go slowly. He wanted to make good on his word of torturing Vince with pleasure. "At least twice a day," he said, his fingers stroking Vince's smooth, warm back.
"Blimey," he whispered. "You're a nymphomaniac."
"Coming twice a day makes me a nympho?"
"You're almost thirty, Stuart. It's not like you're a kid all drunk on hormones or anything." Vince was smirking at him in that chiding way he had when he was trying to get a rise out of his friend.
"All right," Stuart said, playing along. "How often do you come?"
Vince's cheeks colored but he didn't flinch from the question. He snuggled closer, sliding his fingers down the back of Stuart's black sweats. He stroked the sensitive skin on the small of his back, his finger tips sliding slowly over Stuart's tail bone. "Once, I suppose," he said, a bit meekly.
"Once? Every day?"
"I suppose."
"Tell me the truth, now." Stuart rolled over on top of his lover on the sheets but made sure not to dislodge Vince's hand. Those tickly little strokes were luscious. "Do you do it in the bath?"
"Yeah. Always." Vince's hands pushed at the elastic of Stuart's sweats and worked them down over his hips. Once they'd passed the tops of his thighs, they slid off easily. Stuart kicked them over the edge of the bed.
"When do you do it?" Vince asked.
"In the shower first thing." Stuart raised up on his hands and knees so he was hovering over Vince on the bed, then he leaned forward and kissed him. "And if I don't cop off, I do it in bed before I fall asleep."
"But you always cop off."
"No, I don't. I haven't all this week."
"You were with me twice this week." Vince tickled the fine hairs on Stuart's belly with his fingers. It felt amazing and Stuart let out a quiet little moan.
"I still had to come home and have a wank," he said.
"Oh, what does that mean?!" Vince said, playfully indignant.
Stuart lowered his hips and rubbed his cock against Vince's through the fabric of his shorts. God, he was so hot . . . he was beginning to worry if he was going to last long enough to be a proper shag. "That means you turned me on, you twat. You drove me mad and I couldn't stop coming." He chewed Vince's bottom lip, then slid his tongue into his mouth, toying and licking slowly. He felt Vince's cock thicken against his own and his balls throbbed, spilling pre-come onto the white cotton between them.
"Ooh . . ." Vince cooed, his fingers reaching down to stroke Stuart's straining cock. "I think you should let me suck you. You are so close."
Stuart shook his head, moving slightly over Vince so that he straddled his ribs. His erection reached up his tanned belly urgently, pulsating and dark with blood. "Squeeze me," he said, a bit breathlessly. "Right here." He touched his index finger to that pivotal point at the root of his cock. "Press your thumb in there and squeeze."
Vince looked at him doubtfully, then he reached up and did as he'd been instructed. He curled his fingers around Stuart's cock, positioning the pad of his thumb over the indicated spot.
"Press," Stuart said. "Do it pretty hard."
Vince applied pressure to the base of Stuart's cock, urging his thumb into the slight divot there. He looked into Stuart's eyes for an indication that he was doing it right.
"Harder. A bit harder." Stuart breathed deeply as he felt the slightly unpleasant pressure do its work. All at once, his balls cooled down and the tight throbbing in his cock eased just enough to be a relief. He breathed a sigh. "Okay. Good."
Vince let go, his boyish face sweetly concerned. "Wow. That made me nervous."
"Why?"
"I didn't want to hurt you."
There it was again-in those blue eyes. That flash of total, unconditional love that Vincent Tyler had become an expert at hiding. But not any longer. Stuart knew it was there now and he would see it all the time after that night.
"You didn't hurt me, Vince. I just needed a little assistance." He smiled, batting his eyes once. "Now . . . let's get you naked."
Tugging off Vince's shorts, Stuart sat back on his folded legs for a moment, just admiring his prone friend.
"Don't," Vince blushed. "You're making me self-conscious."
"For fuck's sake, why? You're lovely. Look at you." Stuart let his eyes comb over Vince's body lecherously, taking in every inch of him, every freckle, every curve of muscle, every fine blonde hair that dusted his legs and torso. Stuart licked his lips slowly, greedily. And then he crawled forward, his shoulder blades arching like a stalking cat. He placed a kiss on the tender skin between Vince's toes and then he started licking.
Each sensitive toe got bathed, sucked, nibbled very gently. Then he moved up the inside of Vince's ankle, tickling the skin there with maddening slowness. He switched and did the other foot, then went back, continuing his path up the inside of Vince's thighs. Kisses were peppered in with the lapping and when he reached the hip bones, Stuart started sucking-roughly-leaving two deep, red love bites on each side. Vince squirmed slightly, trying not to laugh because it tickled, but he was so hard. His cock stood straight up, extending toward his navel with its slick, weeping head. Stuart left his cock alone, continuing up his belly where he nibbled the soft bit of flesh just above the navel. Another love bite there brought breathy moans and he kept moving. His tongue traced the fine line of hair up the center of Vince's heaving abdomen, taking little side trips to lick the tense muscles and the outline of the ribs.
"Jesus, Stuart . . ." he gasped. "You're killing me . . ."
"Nice way to go, would you say?" he purred, smiling sexily at his friend. He'd reached those perfect pink nipples and he covered them with his mouth, sucking, tugging them with his teeth, then sucking again. He was waiting for a certain sound-a quality in Vince's breathing-that would tell him it was time. Time to stop all this noncy foreplay and just flip him over.
Licking one nipple, then the next, Stuart pressed his body down flush with Vince's, sliding their wet cocks over each other slowly. They both groaned and Stuart made his way up to Vince's neck, licking the deep hollow below his Adam's apple, then up to his chin. Kisses there, then kisses on the lips, little nibbles on the earlobes, kisses on the neck.
Vince swallowed hard and let out a quavering, wobbly moan full of shaky breath. Yes . . . There it was. Stuart grinned, suddenly moving off his lover and sitting to the side. He looked right into Vince's glassy eyes.
"Over on your belly, luv."
Vince laid there a moment, gasping, but he wasn't hesitating. He was savoring. Smiling, he rolled over on his belly and Stuart pushed one of the satin covered pillows under his head. Then he moved down on the bed, positioning himself in the slight "V" of his lover's open legs. This was going to be the best part. Rimming was Stuart's specialty.
He started with kisses and licks all over Vince's back-gentle nibbles, love bites on the smooth skin at the back of his neck. Poor bastard would have marks all over him tomorrow, Stuart thought, smiling to himself. He liked the idea of that. His marks over Vince. Visible indication of possession.
With his wet tongue, Stuart traced Vince's spine down . . . down . . . kisses on the silky buttocks, strokes with his hands that continued down the inside of his thighs. Vince sighed and quivered, trembling against the satin sheets. He was almost whimpering. Perfect.
Stuart paused just for a second, using his thumbs to gently open the warm cleft in front of him. He breathed in deeply, savoring the salty musk of an aroused male. God, he loved that smell. And this time, there was the added scent of his best friend's skin, so familiar but so new in this way. Stuart extended his tongue and licked in one long stroke, all the way from the tip of Vince's tail bone down to the very top of his balls, just brushing over the heated anus. Then he repeated that long stroke going up, placing a kiss once he got to the top. He continued kissing back down the warm crevice, kissing until he reached that hot, dark pink rose bud of flesh. Then he wet his tongue again and licked the ring of skin in slow, caressing circles.
Vince moaned loudly but he laid stock still. He swallowed and gasped but he never moved. He was pinioned on the intense pleasure and Stuart had to keep himself from grinning. He sped up the circles slightly, then licked the silky, wrinkled flesh up and down, side to side. He felt the ring of muscle give and relax under his tongue, opening to him. Oh, yes. It never failed. Dabbing the tip of his tongue at the inside of that tight ring, he stroked it, wetly, gently puffing hot breath onto the terribly sensitive orifice, soothing it, opening it, loving it.
"Stuart?" Vince said suddenly, almost harshly.
Reluctantly, Stuart pulled back and looked up at his lover's face.
Vince was raised up on his elbows rigidly, looking down with the most serious expression on his face. "I'll come if you don't stop," he said, his voice scratchy but clear. "I swear, I've never felt anything like this before in my life."
"Nobody's ever rimmed you?" he said, not teasing, just asking.
"'Course they have. But it's never been . . . like this. I think I could die from this."
Stuart smiled at him, then stuck his bottom lip out, pouting. "I'm really enjoying this. Do I have to stop?"
Vince sighed, flopping down on the pillow under him. "Are we shagging or what?" he said, with a frustrated sigh.
Giggling softly, Stuart sat up, reaching into the drawer in the night table behind him. He grabbed his supplies-a condom and a small bottle of lube-then he turned Vince over on his back again.
Vince sat up, scooting forward on the slick sheets so they were facing each other and only inches apart. He looked at Stuart for a long time but he didn't speak.
After a moment, Stuart became slightly anxious. "All right?"
"Yeah," Vince said and he smiled with his beautiful blue eyes. "Just looking at you."
Stuart kissed him, brushing their noses together. He held the small bottle between his hands, warming its contents, then he pushed Vince back down gently and lifted his hips up onto his own thighs. He squeezed a generous amount of the slick substance out of the bottle then smeared his fingers with it, rubbing the lubricant between Vince's heated cheeks. He stroked the anus with his index finger, then slid it inside, rubbing it in and out once, then adding his middle finger and doing the same. In and out, then the ring finger joined the others Vince groaned and his face contorted in a mask of pleasure.
"Not too much o' that," he pleaded.
"No," Stuart said, shaking his head gently. "Just enough." He took his fingers out then tore open the condom packet, sliding the lubricated sheath onto his full, pulsing cock with amazing dexterity. One hand, even. "Ready, luv?"
Vince stroked his friend's arms and stared in his eyes, breathing deeply. He was ready.
Stuart lifted Vince's left leg up over his own shoulder, then reached under him and raised him up just a bit with his hand on his lower back. He placed his cock head against the hot opening and made sure to look directly into his lover's eyes. He knew that would be an important detail for Vince. A deep breath, a soft caress over Vince's taught belly, then he slid his cock inside in one smooth stroke.
At once Stuart's entire body burned from his core and he gasped, his eyes slipping closed. "God . . ." he moaned. He felt Vince pressing forward to take all of him and he made himself concentrate. Be excellent. Be the best he's ever had. He steadied himself with his legs then began a slow, even rhythm.
He was so hard and so aroused he knew he wouldn't last long, but this thought didn't bother him. He knew Vince was going to come any second and that didn't matter, either. All that mattered was the pleasure and the doing of it-this act, this connection that was changing everything around them, everything about them.
"Stuart," Vince panted, reaching up and grabbing him around the neck, fingers tangling in curls, pulling him down to kiss.
His cock pulsed wonderfully in time with his rapid heartbeat and he knew he was fucking too quickly. He couldn't stop. Stuart was in a blur of pleasure and his sole focus had become finding the right position, the right arc, so that his cock connected with Vince's prostate every single time he went passed it. He could feel them sliding on the satin sheets as they bucked against each other, but that detail was very distant. They could slide right off onto the floor for all he cared. He was consumed with the pleasure radiating from his cock and continuing that delicious rubbing was all important.
"Christ . . ." he heard himself mumbling half-words and moaning deep in his throat, and then he felt Vince grip the backs of his arms fiercely. He opened his eyes and looked down at his friend just in time to see his orgasm take him. He could feel the contractions gripping his own cock as it slid in and out of that hot canal and then his own climax began. It started somewhere way down inside him, so deep it felt like it started just below his heart. It was a harsh, unimaginable, pulling sensation that tore through him like a convulsion and he cried out as the hot, squeezing orgasm washed over his cock, his balls, his thighs. He felt it in his nipples and in his anus and in his lips. Everything throbbed and tingled. He felt charged with electricity and vaguely wondered if he might be glowing.
Then he collapsed forward and rolled to the side, drawing Vince's body over his own, but never losing their connection. Vince tilted his hips forward in his new position, balancing on the bed with his legs. They were no longer moving, they were just watching each other, eyes wide, chests heaving for breath, but they were still connected. They stayed like that for a long time.
Finally, Vince moved forward slightly, sliding away from Stuart's spent cock. He reached down and slid the condom off with his fingers, tossing it aside. Then he stretched out against Stuart's side. The were still watching each other.
"Nice?" Stuart whispered.
"Mm. Incredible." A tiny smile tugged Vince's lips as his eyelids started to get heavy.
"How close did I come?" Stuart asked.
"What?"
"How close did I come to your fantasy?"
Vince laughed, burying his face in his folded arm. "God," he moaned, embarrassed.
Stuart turned on his side and draped his arm over Vince's back, placing a kiss on his hot forehead. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
Home Page