|
Choices
Michael was more prepared this time. But he still didn’t know what he was going to do. The WB threw these parties all the time and just because Ian had been at the last one, it didn’t mean he’d be at this one.
And that last one had been in New York. Who was to say that Ian would show for this one here in L.A.? He had no idea if Ian was going to be here or if this was a complete waste of time.
Michael sipped his drink and watched the door. All kinds of people were arriving, most of them much better dressed than he was. The jeans and t-shirts he usually wore made him look like one of the food service guys, rather than one of the stars. He never wore anything nice unless he was in character. The un-tucked button-down shirt he wore now was his concession to playing nice with the powers that be at the WB.
He grinned when Ian walked through the door, but almost fell off his chair when three steps behind him was Tom.
Fuck.
Just, fuck.
He thought about leaving. Dismissing the idea quickly, he hid behind a pillar instead.
Why should he? Why should he leave just because both of the guys he was fucking showed up at the same party?
He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and sipped at his drink. Maybe he could stay hidden from both of them.
Michael didn’t know what would happen if Tom saw him with Ian. Or if Ian saw him with Tom.
Maybe they could have a big threesome, he thought a little hysterically.
Ian was greeting a short chick with a hug and then he made his way to the bar, well away from where Michael was concealed.
Tom went straight to the bar. Both of Michael’s lovers leaned against it now, assessing the room as they waited for their drinks.
Michael guessed that Tom had ordered a beer and that Ian had ordered something with rum. He panicked when they started talking and shook hands.
He could almost imagine their conversation. Tom would say ‘Yeah. I’m Superman.’ Because that was how he always introduced himself. And Ian would laugh, because he wouldn’t be impressed and say ‘Really? I’ve met your co-star, Michael. We blew each other in a maintenance closet at the last one of these things.’ And then Tom would have to trump the blowjob and say something stupid like, ‘Well, I fucked him last time I saw him.’ And then they would both drop their pants and compare cock sizes.
Okay, so that wouldn’t happen. Well. Probably not.
Besides, Tom would so win that contest.
Fuck. This was stupid. He didn’t have any real ties to either man. Tom was married and he made it clear that he was straight and only doing Michael a favor every time they fucked. Even if Michael was in love with him. Tom made it clear that it was just sex and Tom was always in charge. And Tom maintained he wasn’t gay, no matter how many times he fucked Michael.
It was a line that Michael was finding harder and harder to buy. The longer he and Tom shared whatever the hell it was that they shared, the more Michael realized that Tom was in major denial about what they were doing. Tom was obviously bisexual. He might even be gay. He sure as hell wasn't going to approach Jamie and ask if she and Tom still had sex on a regular basis just to confirm that theory.
Denying him head, and never letting Michael fuck him, fed Michael's more submissive side sexually, but he needed to dominate his lovers once in a while too. As long as he didn't point out to him that just because Tom didn't reciprocate didn't mean that he wasn't gay, things would continue exactly as they had. Did he really want that?
Clouded with lust, and if he was being completely honest, love, Michael silently berated himself or not realizing this sooner and for letting Tom drag him around by his damn cock.
And he didn’t love Ian. He did like him, though, but that was also just sex. Michael shook his head and tried to block out any more imaginary conversations.
Tom and Ian were still chatting and that was just too much pretty in one place. There were similarities there that Michael didn’t want to think about.
‘Yeah? Superman? I was hoping to see your co-star here. We’re going to sneak off and have sex in a bathroom.’ ‘Really? That was my plan too!’
Okay, that probably wouldn’t happen either. He guessed that neither man would bring him up. Hopefully… Maybe just that they knew him.
Ian looked bored. His eyes scanned the room and Michael slid back behind his pillar. He didn’t know why. Ian probably wasn’t looking for him. And he always looked bored.
He pasted a smile on his face as he spotted Allison making her way over to him. The blonde smiled and squealed as she hugged him. “Mike!” Her shout was going to attract attention.
“I haven’t seen you in forever! I love your hair!” She reached up to ruffle it and stole his drink as he was trying to swat her hands away.
“Hi to you too, Alli. What have you been up to?” He was trying very hard to pay attention to the conversation, to distract himself.
She grinned at him. “Same old thang,” she drawled.
“Me, too,” he agreed and took his drink back.
“Have you seen Kristin or Tom?”
“Tom’s at the bar,” he said too quickly. “And I haven’t seen Kristin.”
Allison laughed. “Know Tom’s exact coordinates?”
Blushing, Michael laughed nervously. “Shut up.”
“Still not over him?” She sighed and shook her head.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said moodily. Allison had always been his confidant. She knew all about Tom, but had no clue about Ian.
“Fine.” She was pouting.
Michael sighed. “It’s just really complicated.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why? Is Jamie here too?” She looked around and tried to pinpoint Tom’s location.
“Don’t look!”
“What’s going on?”
“Ian’s here too!”
“Who is Ian?”
“That’s why it’s complicated.”
“Okay, Mike. But I’m really confused.”
“Yeah. Me too,” he agreed.
“Come on.” She tugged on his arm. “We need to talk.”
Michael looked around as they moved through the ballroom. Allison pulled him behind her and led him to a hallway where there was a string of bathrooms.
She looked around and pushed open a door marked ‘Personnel only.’ She skirted around a maid’s cart and opened another door – this one unmarked – to reveal an office.
A desk and chairs were the main focus of the messy room.
“Where are we?” Michael asked uncertainly, surveying the room.
Grinning, Allison gathered her dress around her and sat down. “I was looking for an alternate bathroom the last time the bigwigs stuck us here, and voila, instant secrecy.”
Michael smiled gratefully and sat in the other chair.
“So, dish, Mikey. What the hell is going on?” She looked at him critically.
Michael was sure she was seeing the bags under his eyes, his unkempt facial hair and the same blue button-down shirt he’d worn to the last six of these parties. He shrugged. “Nothing.”
Tinkling laughter accompanied her toothy smile. “Right. That’s why you were hiding behind a pillar in the corner. Who is Ian? And if Jamie isn’t here, why are you hiding from Tom?”
“Long, long story.”
“All ears here, Mike. Peter isn’t here and I don’t have to baby-sit Kristin so I have all night.”
“How is your fiancé anyway?” He was totally avoiding and thought about running for half a second. But he knew Alli. She’d just follow him and drag him back. Or worse, let him go and he’d run into Tom or Ian.
When she just stared at him, he sighed.“Ian is Ian Somerhalder. He’s in the new show Fearless. He was in Rules of Attraction last year? And that old WB show Young Americans. You know who he is.”
“Ohhhhh… That Ian. He is very pretty.”
Michael nodded. “Yeah, he is. Well, we’ve…um. Kind of…I met him back when he was on Young Americans and I was on Zoe, Duncan, Jack and Jane. God, are you even old enough to remember those shows?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’ve only made us watch all your old shows a hundred times. But I don’t remember Young Americans.”
“Well, anyway. We, me and Ian that is, met again in a bar a few months ago. And one thing led to another… and I spent the night with him.”
“Nice. And he doesn’t look like Tom at all.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“God, will you just shut up and let me tell the story?” He gulped his drink and set the ice-filled glass on the desk.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“So anyway. Ian is… well. He’s a really nice guy. And really hot. And we saw each other at the New York Upfronts at the beginning of the summer and ended up blowing each other in a closet.”
“Ooooh. You know, Michael, you haven’t said a word about Tom.”
“I’m getting to that. After that, we went back to my hotel room and…” Michael blushed. He didn’t know how much information he wanted to give Allison. Some things were supposed to be private.
“Don’t go silent on me now. ‘And’ what?”
“Well, he let me… I mean, Tom never did. And he liked it. And I…I don’t know, Alli. I really like him.”
He looked up from his lap and she was smiling at him. “I’ve told you a hundred times to get over Tom and move on with your life. He’s just using you.”
“He’s not. Don’t make me defend him again. But throughout everything that’s happened with Ian, Tom has been there, too. I mean. I still really care about Tom, and Jesus, could I sound *more* like a girl? God dammit. I need more alcohol.”
Allison laughed. “You don’t sound like a girl. Much. So the problem is you’re fucking both of them.”
“Well, no,” he said quietly. “I’m not technically fucking Tom.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So that’s it.” He nodded, “Part of it.”
She sighed. “Listen, I can’t really tell you what to do. But, listen to yourself, Mikey. I think you know what you should do.”
“But, what if he hates me? What if things on the set are awkward and horrible and… Jesus Christ, Allison. What am I supposed to do?”
“Want me to distract Tom while you sneak off with Ian? I won’t tell him that you’re here. Just don’t let those freaks out there with the cameras catch the two of you on film together.”
Michael laughed. “You’d do that?”
She rolled her eyes again at him. “Of course.”
He stood up and leaned down to hug her.
“If you weren’t taken, I’d so snatch you up in a second.”
“That’s nice, Mike. But I think I lack a few other things you’re interested in.”
“What do you mean?” He held the door open for her as they exited.
“Well, I don’t have a penis, for one thing.”
“But you do have breasts. God, if I could find breasts and cock in one package, it’d all be perfect.”
Allison giggled. “We could find you some nice guy who’s taken a few hormones.”
Michael laughed. “Maybe more like one guy and one girl. At the same time.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Think Peter would be up for it?”
“You are so bad, Mike.” They rounded the corner and ran into Tom. Michael ran right into his chest, and dammit if that man wasn’t built like none other. All that muscle and Mike knew exactly what the skin underneath the shirt felt like.
“T-t-tom,” Mike stuttered. All the plans, completely fucked now.
“Mike. Allison.” He nodded at them and smiled coolly. Fucker.
“Tom!” Allison was a great actress. “I didn’t know you were here! I was just showing Michael my secret bathroom. How’s it going?”
“I’m good. What’s up?”
She sneaked a glance at Michael and they moved back towards the ballroom. This was not going to do at all.
“Nothing. Peter is good. We’ve spent a quiet summer, mostly house hunting. I did a couple of those sci-fi cons, and they are so much fun! When are you going to do one, Tom? Mike does them all the time.”
“They’re great,” Michael agreed quietly. Allison walked between them, thankfully. All he needed was the bar. Did they have tequila shots? He wondered if he could talk them into just giving him the bottle. “If you two will excuse me, I need another drink. I seem to have left mine somewhere.”
He didn’t want to hear Tom’s reply about his summer. He didn’t want to hear how Jamie was doing and be reminded how straight Tom was. Or how loving and wonderful his wife was. And the worst part was that she was a nice person and Michael couldn’t even hate her. God, why couldn’t she have faults like every other person? Bitch.
“Tequila. On the rocks, I guess. Go ahead and make it a triple. Can you do that?”
The bartender looked at him closely before nodding. Michael was obviously going to have to spread his orders out to the other bars surrounding the room. He watched the man fill up a short glass with ice and select the bottle of Cuervo from behind him. He missed Vancouver. All the alcohol was stronger there.
“Hey.”
He turned, and there was Ian, smiling at him. He looked really good.
“Hi,” Ian said softly. Michael twisted back to the bar and picked up his drink. He pulled a couple of dollars from his pocket and stuffed it into the oversized brandy snifter sitting there.
Michael smiled, asking, “What’s going on?”
“Not much. How about you?”
He really wanted to drag Ian off to the little room Allison had showed him and see how sturdy that desk was. Instead, he sipped his drink and tried to figure out where Tom and Allison had gone.
He was still feeling so confused. He thought he was in love with Tom, and he still wanted him, but he still liked Ian -- a lot. And wanted Ian -- a lot. Besides, Ian made him forget all the bad things about Tom.
“Nothing here, either. I realized that I don’t have your phone number. I wanted to call you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I…I wanted to know if you wanted to get together sometime. I…I…” Ian stuttering was completely adorable.
Michael looked at Ian. His cheeks were bright red, his eyes glinted in the light, and Michael sucked in a breath. He’d missed that mouth.
“I didn’t have your number either,” he whispered.
“Why are we whispering?”
“I don’t know.”
Ian laughed. “I missed you.”
Michael nodded. “Me too.” He took a long swallow of his drink. He winced a little as it burned down his throat.
“Want to go to my place?” Ian asked quietly.
Michael looked down at his drink. He did. He really, really did. Fuck Tom. He nodded vehemently. “Yes. I do. I can see your entertainment system. I seem to have missed it last time I was there.” He grinned and knocked back the rest of his tequila.
Ian laughed. “I guess you did. We could watch a PG-13 movie and drink soda-pop.”
Michael started at him. “If by ‘watch a movie’ you mean ‘fuck,’ then I am really pissed we haven’t left yet.”
Ian stared back. “That’s exactly what I meant. Why aren’t we in a cab?”
“I have no idea.”
Michael set his glass down and started moving towards the exit. He didn’t care about the rest of the party. He hadn’t cared about it in the first place.
They passed Tom and Allison as they left. He could practically feel Tom’s eyes on him. It felt like they were searing into him. Ignoring the look, he turned to Ian and leaned in to murmur, “I can’t wait to suck your cock.”
Ian smiled easily at him and nodded. He pushed open the door and held it for Michael. In a low voice, he said, “I want you to fuck me.”
Michael swallowed hard. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
~*~
They’d avoided the cameras and had found a cab relatively quickly. Michael had taken it as a sign. A sign of what, he still wasn’t sure.
He’d tried to keep his hands off of Ian in the cab. He really had. But the tequila he’d had left him relaxed and languid and he wasn’t thinking about Tom at all. Not with pretty, pretty Ian sitting right next to him.
They’d both sat in the back seat of the cab, Michael right next to Ian, no space between them. He’d wanted contact. Their shoulders had touched, their arms and thighs. Michael had moved his leg so their knees would even bump.
“How far is it to your place?” Michael had leaned in close to whisper in Ian’s ear.
“About twenty minutes,” Ian had whispered back. He’d taken the opportunity to lick Michael’s ear when he leaned in close.
Shivering, Michael had closed his eyes. It had seemed like too long to wait. The driver had been checking them out in his rear-view mirror, so he’d had to hold himself back from jumping Ian right there. They’d had to settle for talking to each other in hushed voices. Michael had detailed exactly what he’d wanted to do.
“I’ve missed how you taste. I want your cock in my mouth. I want to lick your balls until you scream.”
Ian had shuddered and urged the taxi guy to drive faster.
But now that they were both naked in Ian’s bed, he didn’t know what to do first. Some of the tequila had worn off, but Michael was still pleasantly buzzed. And definitely not thinking about Tom.
He smiled at Ian as he leaned down to kiss his mouth. Michael had only meant for it to be a quick kiss, with his designs on something lower, but he got lost in it. His tongue swept inside of Ian’s mouth, only to have Ian suck on it. It felt so good that Michael forgot to move lower until he felt encouragement pressed against his thigh.
Finally, he pulled away. A quick grin at Ian, and he shifted lower, settling between his legs. Ian’s hands were curled into fists at his sides, like he was afraid to touch.
He wrapped his hand around Ian’s cock, leaned down and sucked the head into his mouth. Sliding down, he took more in. Giving head was almost as good as getting it.
As he sucked and licked, he felt around for one of Ian’s hands and directed it to the back of his head. Straining into it, and then taking as much of the cock as he could into his mouth, Michael tried to get Ian to take over.
Moaning, Ian seemed to understand. “Oh, God. Michael. So good.” He bucked into Michael’s mouth as he pressed down with his hand, pushing himself deeper inside.
Michael gagged for a couple of thrusts before he caught the rhythm Ian set. But it was so perfect, so fucking good, and Michael realized how hard he was himself. He could hardly wait to fuck Ian.
Whimpers and little noises escaped Ian’s mouth. Soft words of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ reached Michael’s ears, mingled with the calling of his name. Looking up, Michael watched Ian’s face contort and strain even as his cock grew harder in his mouth.
Ian’s teeth worried his bottom lip and his eyes were squeezed shut. Michael grinned around the cock in his mouth and rubbed his tongue on the underside. That garnered him a high pitched noise that was somewhere between a groan and a squeal and then Ian was coming, his hand still holding Michael’s head tightly to him.
Slowly, Michael pulled back, trailing his tongue after him, wanting every last bit of Ian that he could get. Still panting below him, Ian had a satisfied look on his face – a little smile that Michael wanted to bite.
“Going to fuck you now,” Michael whispered. He yanked open Ian’s nightstand drawer, almost dropping the drawer to the floor, and fumbled around for the bottle of lube and condom he hoped was there
Ian sat up on his elbows and leaned over to help. “Here,” he said as his fingers found everything he needed
Michael grabbed the bottle from him, opening it roughly. He ended up with too much on his fingers. He didn’t care; he could barely think beyond getting inside of Ian.
Fingers shook as he twisted them inside, and Ian arched into him. “Please, Michael. Please. I want your cock inside me, not your fingers.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I…I like that. Just fuck me.”
Michael stared for a second before pulling his fingers out and rolling the condom on himself. He remembered that Ian had said last time, not to be careful. But actually liking it? Wow. Michael was going to fuck him as hard as he could.
God, the idea of it alone, almost made him come before he could even push inside.
And then he was in and there was groaning and he couldn’t tell if it was him or Ian. It felt so good, so tight and hot and Michael didn’t know if he was going to be able to stand it.
Ian arched into him, and just that movement alone made Michael whimper. He slid back before slamming into him. Spots danced under his eyelids and he would have sworn he could hear bells ringing but all he could think about was more.
“Fuck,” Ian shouted, but then he reached and grabbed onto Michael’s hip, trying to pull him closer. “Please,” Ian begged.
No way he could resist. Michael fucked into Ian as hard as he could. Pulling all the way back before pushing hard back inside.
Ian met his every thrust. Skin slapping against his own, sweat just pouring off of him and Michael loved every second of it.
Somehow, his hand found Ian’s cock, hard and twitching in his palm as he stroked it. He built up a rhythm; pushing in fast, and slowly pulling out. On the slide out, he pumped the cock in his hand.
In, out, pump. Over and over, faster and faster, until the heat in his belly surged lower, twisting inside of him. When Ian cried out and erupted all over his hand, all of the muscles surrounding Michael’s cock clenched and squeezed until he had to shout as his own release came over him.
When he finally caught his breath, he lay sprawled on Ian’s chest. Sweat and come stuck them together and Michael thought vaguely about a shower, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Ian pushed at his shoulder and he slid to the side, but he wasn’t going anywhere else.
The sheets somehow found their way over him and Ian wrapped himself around Michael, snuggling in as they fell asleep
~+~
The ringing of his phone woke him up. In the light of day, he realized that the bells he thought were ringing in the middle of sex the night before had probably been the phone as well.
He leaned over and groped for his jeans. Snagging them, he pulled his cell from one of the pockets.
“Does he let you fuck him?”
“What?” Still disoriented a little from waking up in a strange bed, Michael couldn’t identify the caller at first.
“I asked if he lets you fuck him.”
“Oh. Hi, Tom.” Michael really wished he hadn’t answered. If he’d been paying attention and read the display on his cell first, he would have let it go to voicemail.
Ian stirred beside him, and Michael sat up, sheet falling to his waist as Tom talked loudly in his ear.
“Is that what you want?”
“I really don’t think it’s any of your business.”
Looking up sleepily, Ian grinned. “Morning.”
Smiling back, Michael mouthed his greeting before rolling his eyes.
“Come on, Mike. I’m still in LA. I wanted to see you.”
“I’m kind of busy, Tom.” Sighing, Michael watched Ian get up from the bed and stumble over a pair of jeans before making it to the bathroom.
“Meet me for lunch. At Gladstone’s in Malibu. Two o’clock?”
“I don’t know….” Michael trailed off. He didn’t really want to meet with Tom if he was going to be an asshole.
“I just want to talk. We haven’t even seen each other all summer.”
He heard the shower come on and he grinned. “All right. Is that the one right on the ocean?”
“Yeah,” Tom answered.
Michael nodded, remembering eating there a couple of times. They had pretty good food. “I’ll be there.” He pushed the button on his phone without waiting for a response. He checked the time before tossing it onto the nightstand.
The sounds from the bathroom called to him, so Michael followed Ian’s trail into the bathroom. Missing the jeans, he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching the silhouette behind the curtain before crossing the tile and pulling the curtain back.
Ian turned to him, smiling. Michael was still sticky from the night before. He ducked inside and pulled the curtain behind him.
Michael watched Ian rub shampoo into his hair for a minute before reaching over and running his hands across Ian’s wet chest. Grinning at the jerk Ian made in surprise, he let his fingers drift down to tweak a nipple.
“Hey!” Ian swatted his hand away playfully, grinning back. He leaned back to rinse the soap out of his hair and handed the bottle to Michael. “I like you with your hair like this.”
“I’m going to have to shave it soon,” He responded, a little sadly. “I like it too.” He lathered up his hair and ducked his head under the water, rinsing it quickly. He could feel Ian’s eyes on him as he did, but he was completely unprepared for the wet heat engulfing his cock.
His eyes snapped open in surprise and he looked down. Ian looked up at him and sucked him down. “Jesus Christ,” he whimpered.
Ian’s hands slid across his skin, up the backs of his thighs, to his ass, dragging him closer, further inside, and Michael couldn’t help the moan escaping his mouth. Water beat down on them, but Ian didn’t seem to care. His eyes were closed, mouth stretched across his cock.
Ian looked fucking amazing blowing him.
Michael threw his head back and thrust forward. Ian’s fingers slipped into his cleft, water slicking the way. So good. Ian apparently knew every spot that made Michael crazy. He was hitting every single one of them.
Ian’s tongue was doing wonderful things to the underside of his cock. Michael was so close, so damn close. And then fingers were inside him and he couldn’t hold back anymore. Michael came, groaning out his climax, even as he felt Ian swallow.
Michael slumped against the warmed tiles, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath when Ian captured his mouth in a kiss. Lips against his, tongue sliding against his teeth, his own taste filling his mouth...
And Ian hard against his hip. Michael wrapped his arms around Ian, letting his hands slide down to his ass, just to pull him closer.
Groaning deeply, Ian tore his mouth away, his head falling to Michael’s shoulder as he pushed against Michael. “Faster,” Michael whispered and tipped his head to offer his neck to Ian.
A trail of sucking kisses to the crease of Michael’s neck, and then Ian bit down, rubbing harder. Soft words whispered into his skin there, and Michael couldn’t really hear what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. He could tell Ian was close, and if he kept sucking *right* there, he was going to leave a mark.
God, just the thought of that made his cock twitch again. Entirely too soon, not going to happen, but the lust shot through his belly, leaving a tingling sensation. “Ian... God.” His hands still on Ian’s ass pulled him against him again.
Ian just moaned and followed Michael’s hands. He stiffened as he came, biting down hard onto his shoulder.
The harsh panting from both men broke the sound of the water hitting the tub and the tiles. A slow grin broke on Ian’s face as he looked up at Michael. “Sorry about that.”
He didn’t sound sorry at all.
Michael rolled his eyes. “The biting or the coming all over me?”
“Well, mostly the biting, the come was your fault,” he answered, laughing.
Michael ducked under the water and reached for the soap. “I don’t mind taking responsibility for that.”
~*~
The sun was high in the sky by the time Michael made it out to Malibu. He was still really relaxed from his morning with Ian and he knew his lunch with Tom was probably not going to be a whole lot of fun. But he was trying not to focus on that.
Tom was waiting for him at the door. Different. But maybe Gladstone’s had some policy about not seating incomplete parties. Or maybe Tom was just being weird. Either one would really make sense at this point.
An easy grin and Tom looked way too happy. “Hey, Mike. Glad you could make it.” Michael noticed his eyes darting to the marks on his skin, but he ignored it.
He’d left the buttons near the collar of his shirt undone on purpose. In the mirror, earlier, he’d noticed bite marks and smudged bruises. He grinned at the hostess and followed her to their table.
Michael leaned back, and nodded as Tom tried to make small talk. It was probably driving him crazy. The marks he could see, the completely casual attitude… Thank God he couldn’t tell that it was making Michael just as crazy to keep up the completely cool, nonchalant attitude he was affecting now
It was almost impossible not to jump Tom right where he sat. But he was not about to give Tom any advantages here.
God, Tom looked good.
He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, and his hair was all messy. Sunglasses and cheekbones and Michael just wanted to lean over and bite him.
Instead, he smiled at the waitress and ordered lemonade. Tom stuttered an order for iced tea and when she was gone, he spoke in a low voice.
“Was I right?”
“About what, Tom?” Michael was pretty sure what Tom meant.
“Does he let you? You know.”
“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
Tom looked angry for a second, but he hid it well. Michael watched him force his frown into a breezy smile and laugh. He didn’t bring it up again.
It turned out to be very pleasant. Nice airflow from the ocean, soft noises from the birds, and the fish was excellent. It was much better than Michael had feared.
Tom offered him a ride, and he took it. A cab would be hot and sweaty, and after his nice afternoon, he really wasn’t in the mood.
The drive back was pleasant. Tom turned the radio up, and they didn’t say much. They had to be back in Vancouver for filming in a few weeks. He smiled when Tom’s hand found its way to his thigh.
Warm and comfortable, he barely noticed when they pulled up at Tom’s hotel. He wasn’t staying at the same hotel Tom was. He distinctly remembered telling Tom where he was staying, and this was not it.
“Hey, I thought… Tom? Why are we here?”
“I missed you, Mike. I thought we could talk. It’s been a long time.”
“We just talked at lunch, Tom.”
Tom threw the car into gear and twisted in his seat. “Mike. I want you. Please come up to my room. Please?”
Michael shook his head. “I…”
“Please?”
He was completely helpless when Tom begged. “Ok, but Tom. I... Just talking, nothing else.”
“Whatever you want.”
Michael really didn’t think that Tom meant that. They got out of the car and Michael watched Tom toss his keys to the valet. He followed him through the lobby to an elevator and they stood on opposite sides as it moved to the top.
When the car dinged and they stepped out into the hall, Michael continued to follow Tom to his room. Tom sure had a nice ass.
It was awkward once they got into the room. Michael stood and stared at the bed before choosing a chair on the far wall. The television was blank and the silence built between them.
Tom stood and then sat down on one of the beds. Michael didn’t get up. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.
He watched Tom get up, cross the room and stop in front of him.
“I’m an asshole.”
Michael thought about nodding, agreeing with him, but just watched him instead. Tom dropped to his knees and leaned into Michael, resting his cheek against his chest.
“I’m sorry.” He leaned up and pressed his lips to Michael’s, slowly slipping his tongue inside. “You’re so hot like this, Mike.” He pulled back and started opening Michael’s jeans.
“Like what, Tom?” Michael asked, genuinely curious.
“Like this, Mike.” Tom gazed at him, eyes taking in all of him from head to toe and lingering on the bite marks that Michael knew were still clearly highlighted by the open collar of his shirt. The green of Tom’s eyes flashed, almost in anger, and Michael had an epiphany.
Could Tom be jealous? The more he thought about it, Michael realized that it might be a good thing. He hadn’t set out to make Tom jealous.
Tom smiled, probably sure of his victory.
Michael knew he couldn’t make it that easy.
Jesus, he didn’t know if he could let Tom suck his cock after Ian just had. Less than five hours before, Ian was in the exact spot Tom was. He had to stop comparing. He wanted Tom. If his cock was any indication, he wanted Tom very badly. He was completely hard already.
Tom’s big fingers brushed across his erection and Michael moaned softly. Tom stood back up and slowly tugged his shirt over his head. All those muscles and Michael stared. God, he was gorgeous.
He watched Tom toe off his tennis shoes and slip his jeans down. His boxers were next and he stood before Michael, finally naked. He reached his hand down, stepped back, and pulled Michael up. He slowly started to undress Michael.
Michael made no move to stop him.
Tom slid the buttons through their buttonholes and pushed Michael’s shirt off, letting it slide onto the chair. He carefully avoided Ian’s marks. Michael whimpered when Tom sucked a nipple into his mouth.
It started out gentle. A lot more gentle than Tom had ever been. Usually it was hard and fast, Tom taking him and Michael just loving it, but every once in a while, it was slow. Michael loved that more. It felt like Tom really cared about him when it was like that.
Slow, soft kisses trailing down his torso. Tom’s tongue slipped inside his belly button, down, down, until his fingers were at the button of his jeans, and they were pushed down too. They were both naked, finally.
Michael started panting as Tom licked his cock.
Tom had never blown him before. Michael whimpered and felt his knees shake.
He really couldn’t take Tom doing this while he was standing.
“Bed, Tom,” Michael whispered.
Tom nodded and watched as Michael pushed his shoes off and stepped out of his pants on his way to the bed. He sat on the edge and waited. He wasn’t sure what Tom had in mind, and Tom always ran the show.
He crawled over on his knees -- on his fucking *knees* -- before pushing Michael back. Not seeing what Tom was doing was probably going to make him crazy.
Rough tongue painting broad strokes across his inner thighs, was the first touch that Tom made. Soft, wet kisses to the back of his knees, gentle grazing touches to his hips and Michael relaxed into it.
Higher and higher, Tom’s tongue slid across his skin. Michael held himself rigid. Anticipation coursed through him. He wanted to thrust into it, but didn’t want Tom to stop for any reason.
Tom chuckled and dove lower. He sucked one of Michael’s balls into his mouth, and then the other and Michael wanted to scream. He shoved a fist into his mouth and tried to keep at least relatively quiet.
Shock and desire flooded through him when he felt Tom’s tongue sweep underneath his balls. “No,” he whispered. He wasn’t going to be able to stand it if Tom did that.
Tom stopped what he was doing and moved his head. He didn’t do anything else until Michael finally opened his eyes and looked down at him, still panting.
“No? Do you want me to stop?”
Michael shook his head. He dropped back to the bed and opened his thighs wider, offering himself to Tom. “No. Anything you want.”
Tom’s tongue was back quickly. Across his perineum, to his ass, swiping across his hole. Michael tensed, waiting for something, but he didn’t know what.
Soft touches accompanied the tongue. Fingers running down his cleft, pushing inside of him, fondling him, he was so hard.
Tom moved up again and unexpectedly, Michael felt his cock bathed in hot, tight wet heat. Oh my God! After all the times that Tom said he would never do this for him. It was amazing and as instantly addicting as Michael had always known those lips would be.
He’d evidently done this before, just not with him. Michael forced himself not to think about that and to just concentrate on the pleasure washing over him. Tom began a steady suction as he swallowed and sucked. Michael felt himself drawn closer to the edge and wasn't sure if he could hold on as Tom continued to fuck his ass with two spit wet fingers.
Suddenly, Tom had moved, and he was kneeling between his thighs. Michael watched him roll a condom onto his cock and slick himself. He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt Tom’s fingers leave him and return with lubricant. Soon enough, the fingers were gone, replaced by the blunt head of Tom’s cock pushing against his hole.
He hadn’t been fucked for a long time. He hadn’t seen Tom all summer and every time he’d met up with Ian, he’d been the one doing the fucking. He just hoped Tom had used enough lube.
Michael groaned as Tom pushed slowly inside him. He’d forgotten how much he loved this part – the slow burn, the pressure -- but best of all was the shot of pleasure that shot through him as Tom’s cock brushed across his prostate.
“Tom! Fuck! God, yes. So good.” Michael’s mouth betrayed him as he shouted, then moaned encouragement to Tom. “Fuck me,” he demanded, voice hoarse.
Torturously, Tom kept the same slow, even pace. His hands on Michael’s thighs, pushing him wider, pushing him to accept more. Muscles burned with exertion, as Tom drove in.
The hand on his cock was slick, stroking as Tom pulled back, twisting as he pushed in. Maddening rhythm, designed, Michael was sure, to make him crazy just before he came. He was so close, so very close.
Tom leaned over and said in a low voice, “You’re mine, Mike. Mine. It doesn’t matter what he lets you do to him. You’ll always be mine.” Tom’s words were punctuated by thrusts. There was no way he could last through that. He came as Tom twisted his hand and shoved inside.
He could tell Tom was close. And when Tom started shaking, Michael whimpered and met the thrust just as he could feel the pulse inside him.
Sweat-soaked skin, sticky and slick, Tom dropped next to him. Both men panted harshly and Michael turned away, Tom settling behind him.
As he caught his breath and oxygen started to actually make it to his brain, Michael seemed to register what Tom had said. He hadn’t professed his love, or told him that he cared. No. It was all about ownership and possession with Tom, or was it more as well? He really couldn’t tell.
Michael still didn’t know what to do. Tom’s breath evened out as he fell asleep against his back, but Michael stayed awake, staring at the wall for a long time.
[ main l rps l fps ]
|