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Heated 5: Sweet Revenge
Tom was getting restless. He hadn’t seen Mike in a while and, while he didn’t want to admit it to anyone, especially himself, he missed him.
He paced around his house, agitated. He wanted something, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He stood in front of the open refrigerator, staring at its contents. Nothing was appealing.
He thought about going to work out, but that didn’t sound good to him, either. Tom flopped down in front of the television and started flipping absently through channels.
When the phone rang, he lunged for it, grateful for anything that would keep him from going insane. He didn’t even bother to check the caller id.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Tom.”
“Mike! What are you doing?” The last time he’d called, Mike had been in New York doing an appearance for a television show, and Tom hadn’t gotten to talk to him very long.
“Nothing. Getting ready to go play hockey.”
“Oh.” Tom tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“Wanna come watch? We can grab dinner afterwards.”
“Great idea! When?” God, he sounded way too eager. This was Mike. Just friends. Even if they *were* fucking.
“How about at three? Then you only have to watch for a little while before we go get dinner. I’m usually done skating by four and ready to leave by five.”
Tom looked at his watch. He had plenty of time to shower before then. He agreed and took directions before Mike cleared his throat and his voice got soft. “Listen. I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss you.”
“I know. Me, too,” Tom agreed.
“Good.” Tom could tell that Mike was grinning into the phone. “I’ll see you in a little while?”
“Yeah. Can’t wait,” Tom said and smiled as he hung up the phone. He was humming as he made his way down the hall to get ready to go.
~+~
It was a lot colder than Tom had expected. He’d only worn a thin denim jacket over a t-shirt, and he had goose bumps all over his arms. Mike looked good though.
Tom had gotten to the rink after three. Despite his best efforts to show up on time, he’d gotten stuck in traffic. Vancouver gridlock could be really horrible, especially in the late afternoon, and he hadn’t budgeted enough time for stop-and-go nonsense.
When he’d finally arrived, Mike was already skating. Tom had picked him out right away, obvious when he was so intimate with his body. He smiled and watched Mike glide across the ice towards one of the goals.
He didn’t think Mike had noticed him yet. At least he hadn’t come over and said anything to him. Tom watched him skate over to a gate and slip inside. Mike sat on the bench, took his helmet off and searched the stands.
Tom considered waving, but decided he’d look like a big dork if he did. Mike smiled at him, nodded and picked up a water bottle, taking a long swallow before putting his helmet back on.
Tom grinned to himself. Mike had been waiting for him. He watched him head back out to the ice, sliding gracefully. Mike spun around, hockey stick in his hand, and kind of danced over to the puck.
And now he was showing off for him. Before Mike had noticed he was there, there was no spinning. There was no dancing. This was completely adorable.
Mike skated backwards to a line on the ice and then took off at high speed, racing for the puck.
When Mike had called, he’d said ‘play hockey’ but Tom guessed from the attendance that it was just a practice game. There didn’t seem to be a coach or any order to the game. There were only a few people scattered throughout the seats and Tom figured that most of them were spouses of the players.
Tom wondered at the implications there, but decided that he was probably reading way too much into the situation for not having any real idea of who the other people were. They could be family members for all he knew.
He glanced at his watch and realized he only had a few minutes of watching his friend left. Mike had said that the game was over by four, and it was almost that time. Tom’s eyes followed Mike up and down the ice.
Mike followed the puck, darting in and out of the other people, stealing it from whoever had it and keeping it away from the opposing team until he lost it. This part Tom understood.
Tom had watched hockey many times with Mike, even before they’d changed their status from ‘just friends’ to ‘friends that fuck’, and even though they’d discussed rules and strategies more times than Tom could remember, he still didn’t understand the intricacies of the game.
Sure, he could tell that they played ‘periods’ instead of ‘quarters’ and there was something that was called ‘icing’ that had something to do with the blue line, but Tom was still in the dark with many of the hockey rules. But he could definitely tell that it was good to get the puck into the goal, and when Mike swung around the net and slipped the puck into it, unbeknownst to the goalie, Tom cheered.
He was the only one that did.
He sat back down, grinning and blushing, when Mike looked up at him. He tried not to pay attention to the other people in the stands. He didn’t have to look to know they were looking at him. Pulling his cap down over his eyes, he ran his hands over his arms, trying to warm them.
A buzzer sounded, startling Tom. He’d known that time was almost up, but he’d kind of forgotten about the loud noise that would come to signal the end of the game. Mike and the people wearing the same color -- Tom assumed they were his teammates -- all cheered and Tom clapped again. Everyone else did too, so Tom wasn’t as embarrassed this time.
He stood and weaved through the rows of wooden risers to stand behind the glass protecting the bench. Mike had apparently been watching him, because he was waiting for him.
“Hey, Tom. The locker room is off to the left, if you want to wait for me, then we can go out for dinner…and whatever.”
He grinned and Tom nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to eat?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Thinking about Italian… What do you think?”
“That’s fine with me. How long do you think you’ll take?”
Mike grinned again. “If I’m not out in thirty minutes, you may have to come in after me.” He laughed and gathered up his helmet, water bottle and hockey stick from around him. “See you in a little while.”
Tom watched Mike until he was out of sight. The corridor he went through apparently went to the locker room. He wasn’t sure how to find it from this side, but he made his way out of the seating to the huge stone corridor surrounding the rink.
He looked up and, thankfully, there were convenient signs pointing him to the locker room. Tom was thrilled that he didn’t have to ask someone. When he found it, he slid down the wall opposite the door to wait.
Tom tugged his cap down over his face and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as they left. Several men carrying huge duffel bags exited. He checked his watch and waited some more. Mike was certainly taking his time.
Forty-five minutes later, twenty-five guys had left the locker room, by Tom’s count. He sighed and checked his watch again. He was cold, hungry, and tired of waiting. He unfolded himself and stood, dusting himself off as he did.
Pushing open the door, he called, “Mike? Are you still in here?”
“It took you long enough, Welling.”
Tom looked around, a little confused.
“What’s going on?” Tom stepped tentatively into the room, eyes searching for Mike.
It was hot, smelly and humid, just like a locker room was supposed to be. Showers were on the left, lockers on the right. Benches separated rows of lockers, and everything was either painted a teal blue or dull silver-gray color.
“Over here,” Mike called.
Tom wove between the benches to the back of the room and found Mike lounging on a set of steps. He looked like he was still wearing all of his hockey gear, except for his helmet and skates.
“What’s… Why haven’t you showered?” Tom was extremely confused now.
“I had this idea…” his eyes looked up and down Tom’s body. “Everyone seems to have gone. We have the whole place to ourselves…”
Tom slowly grinned.
“There’s this tub here…Usually it’s used for guys that have sprains and bruising…but I bet we could put it to good use. What do you say, Tommy?”
There was a predatory gleam in Mike’s eye that made Tom want to agree without thinking. But he had to ask, “What if someone comes in?”
Mike smiled and stood. He pulled off his jersey and dropped it to the cement floor. “There’s a lock on the door.” He started to pull at the laces on his shoulder pads.
“And no one can come in?” Tom asked skeptically.
“It locks from the inside.” Mike opened the Velcro straps and lifted the shoulder pads over his head. He set it on one of the benches before removing his thermal undershirt and Tom couldn’t help lick his lips as Mike’s chest was revealed. Flushed and sweaty, Tom wanted to taste him all over.
“Why don’t you go lock the door while I finish undressing?”
Tom was torn. Part of him wanted to stay right there and watch the rest of the clothing come off, but another part of him was anxious to lock everyone else out. Mike tugged at his elbow pads and tossed them on top of his jersey.
“How about,” he started, his voice barely a whisper. He swallowed and tried again, “How about you don’t move until I get back. I want to see.”
Mike smiled knowingly and nodded. “Sure. But, hurry.”
Tom nodded and turned, almost tripping over a bench. He stumbled, but finally made his way around the bench and walked over to the door. He twisted the lock and turned.
“I’m taking off more things,” Mike called in a sing-songy voice. “You’re missing it.”
Tom scrambled around the benches until he found his way back to where Mike was. He toed off his own sneakers and pouted a little. Mike had taken off his outer pants, and was down to some weird padded shorts and leg pads.
“I wanted to see.”
“Sorry. It’s kind of warm in here.” His fingers worked the laces of the black shorts. White words ran up the sides, but Tom was too distracted by Mike’s fingers to pay a whole lot of attention to what brand the shorts were. Strong, nimble fingers, years of practice allowing them to make short work of the string around the waist of the pants.
God, he really shouldn’t be as hard as he was already.
Mike sat down on the bench and loosened the hard plastic guards that were covering his shins. The Velcro straps were loud in the almost silent room. Tom watched him stand and shuck the padded shorts. Mike was down to thermal underwear, and whatever he wore underneath.
“You’re awfully over-dressed for getting into that whirlpool.”
Tom nodded and stepped closer. He couldn’t stand not touching Mike any longer.
Mike held up his hand. “No touching.”
Tom furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Mike questioningly.
“We’re going to call this payback.”
“Payback? For what?”
“The beads.”
Mike smiled, quirked his eyebrows and stepped back. He slid the thermal underwear down, revealing a jock strap that had buckles on it leading to socks. Tom was rather amused.
“What are those?” He pointed.
“Garters. They keep up my socks.” Mike flicked the little guards and bent over to push his socks down and off. Tom stared at Mike’s feet.
He was down to just his jock now. And Tom was still fully clothed. He’d meant to get undressed, but had been distracted. Tom tried to reach out to Mike again, but he shook his head and moved away.
“I told you: No touching. Now, get undressed.” He turned and faced the whirlpool bath and started pushing buttons and twisting knobs.
Tom sighed and toed off his shoes and bent to pull off his socks. The floor was cold beneath his feet. A shiver ran through him as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down.
As he looked up, Tom’s eyes drifted down to Mike’s ass. Straps from the jock stretched around the outside of his cheeks. The little garters hung down, swinging slightly as Mike moved. It was mesmerizing.
Mike turned back around and scowled slightly at Tom’s still clothed body. Tom felt himself flush slightly and he pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his jeans. Mike nodded.
And then he slid his fingers into the waistband of his jock and slid it down. It had done an excellent job of hiding just how aroused he was. Tom stared unashamed at Mike’s cock.
“Get in.” His words clipped and Tom scrambled to get his boxers off and follow Mike into the tub.
Water swirled around them, bubbles and steam rose through the water, the noise loud. Tom sat down on the bench and waited, not exactly sure what to expect. Mike smiled and leaned across the water to capture Tom’s lips in a quick kiss. He pulled back, closed his eyes, and leaned back.
Tom stared at him, confused.
“No touching.”
“What do you mean? I can’t touch you? You’re not touching me? I can’t touch myself?”
“Yes. Maybe. No.”
“So, I can’t touch you. You might touch me, and I can touch myself.”
“Exactly.”
Mike’s hands were underneath the water, and Tom couldn’t see what he was doing. He wanted to. All he could see was Mike’s shoulders and face.
Although, the look on Mike’s face was rather telling of what his hands were busy doing under the water. Eyes squeezed tight, teeth worrying his bottom lip…even his breath gave him away, coming in quick little gasps.
“Mike, are you touching yourself?”
He only got a nod in response.
Tom groaned, “God.”
Mike shook his head this time. Tom groaned again and realized his hands were already on his own cock. Water sloshed around him, but he didn’t care. For Mike to be this close to him, but not able to touch was driving him crazy. He wanted to feel that skin so badly.
He slid closer. Mike might not notice with his concentration being somewhere else. He moved until their shoulders bumped together. He could feel Mike’s arm moving in a telling rhythm. Slow, not really rushing towards anything, just taking his time.
Mike opened his eyes and licked his lips slowly. “Are you hard, Tom?”
His voice, God. Tom struggled to keep his eyes open. He nodded.
“Good. Now, I want you to start jerking off. Slowly.”
“Mike.” He was practically whining, but he did exactly as he was asked. Fingers moved of their own accord, wrapping loosely around his hard cock. His eyes dropped closed.
Hot breath at his ear, and he hadn’t realized Mike had moved. “I want you to think about me, Tom. Think about my hands doing what yours are, my hands sliding across your wet skin, feeling just how hard you are.”
Tom moaned. He let his other hand drift across his chest to his nipples.
“That’s it, Tom.”
He let out a strangled cry when Mike’s hand joined his on his cock.
“Come for me, Tom. Then, I want you to suck me.”
Water sloshed all around them. Mike wasn’t touching him anywhere except his dick. He strained for contact. Little whining noises escaped his lips.
“Shhh… Tommy. It’s okay. I know you want to come.” Mike’s hand moved faster, his thumb stroked across the head and Tom couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t hold back anymore.
He arched and came, whimpering softly and biting down on his lip hard.
“That’s it,” Mike soothed. He stroked a few more times, until Tom pushed him away.
He slumped back, against the side of the tub.
Mike let him rest for about two seconds, and before Tom could really catch his breath, there were demanding hands pushing him and moving him away from the wall to the other side of the tub. He could feel Mike’s cock brush against him, and he wanted to do something, but didn’t know if he was allowed yet.
He looked up. A smile and a quick kiss before Mike stood up. The shallow water came up to about mid-thigh, his dick plainly obvious and hard in the space above the surface.
“Go on, suck it,” Mike said thickly. This seemed to go against the ‘no touching’ rule but maybe Mike didn’t care anymore.
Tom certainly didn’t.
Mike stepped forward, his hand on his cock, directing it towards Tom. Blunt, slick head pushed against his lips and Tom snaked his tongue out to taste. Chlorine and water only, Mike’s taste barely there at all and Tom didn’t like that.
He made a noise in protest and tongued the slit as he wrapped his fingers around Mike, questing for more of *him*.
Mike’s knees bumped against Tom’s before he spread them, accepting Mike between his thighs. He could feel Mike’s heated skin touching him and water sloshed around as Tom opened his mouth.
Hands wound in Tom’s hair and yanked him forward with every push in. Dirty and raw and Mike didn’t hold back at all. Tom just took it, opened his throat and let Mike use him; he didn’t care.
And Mike wasn’t quiet, either. He was always a talker, and Tom loved it. “Take it, Tommy. Swallow my cock. Yeah, that’s it.”
Tom did, his muscles working around the head of Mike’s cock. But Mike was thrusting wildly now. Tom could tell that he was close; even his knees were shaking. “Suck it, Tommy. God, so good.”
Tom looked up, watching Mike’s face as he came. He was always beautiful, but even more so when he was at the height of orgasm. His lips twisted and eyes squeezed shut. Tom smiled around the cock in his mouth. He absolutely loved sucking Mike off.
If this was payback, then he was getting off easy.
Mike pulled back and dropped into the water. His breathing was harsh and his eyes were still closed. Tom watched and smiled.
“How long until you have to be home?” Mike’s words broke the silence.
“Whenever.”
Mike opened an eye. “What about Jamie?”
Tom hated it when Mike brought up his wife. He *knew* that. But Tom decided to let it go. “She’s at her family’s through New Year’s.”
He was still struggling about the whole adultery thing. Tom had been with her forever. The past few years with her had been great, and really, he was happy with her. He loved her.
But now he loved Mike, too. And he could never, ever tell anyone. His wife would hate him and Mike might think he was a pussy. Or it would just be horrible and awkward if Mike didn’t feel the same way. And besides, guys didn’t say stuff like that to each other.
Even guys that were fucking.
Tom just nodded and smiled when Mike leaned back in the tub. Jamie knew what he and Mike were doing. Well, not specifics. But she knew. He and Jamie had only had sex twice since she’d found out, and both times had been awkward and unfulfilling. Tom didn’t want to think about it. He pushed thoughts of her away when Mike’s fingers brushed across his cheek.
“I guess that wasn’t really payback, was it?”
Chuckling in response, Tom opened his eyes and whispered, “I’ll wear the beads if you want.”
Mike looked thoughtful for a second and then smiled and shook his head. “Nah. I’ll think of something different.”
Tom nodded and shivered involuntarily.
“Come on,” Mike suggested. “I need to shower and then we’ll go eat.”
They got out of the tub and carefully made their way to the showers. Water dripped off of them as they did, making the floor slick and full of puddles.
Tom got into the showers too, turning his nozzle on full blast with hot water, closing his eyes and ducking his head under. He just wanted to rinse the chlorine off from the tub and when he had, he turned to watch Mike.
Rivulets of water slid down Mike’s body and Tom stared. His well-muscled stomach and thighs, long fingers trailing soap all over his body. Tom licked his lips as he felt himself start to harden again.
A loud knock on the door broke him out of his reverie. “Anyone still in there?” Someone was shouting from outside the thankfully locked door.
Mike was entirely too calm. “Yeah. Almost done showering. Be out soon.”
“Well, hurry it up,” the voice demanded. “We’re shutting everything down in five minutes.”
“No problem,” Mike answered. He rinsed himself off and turned the water off. Looking at Tom, he said, “Get dressed. It’s okay. Don’t panic.”
Tom nodded. Thank God he’d locked the door. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Mike; it was just… well…Mike was his. Even if he hadn’t ever said as much. And he didn’t want to share him. Especially with strangers, but he didn’t think Mike got that.
It didn’t even make sense to himself.
Mike had to share him with Jamie and didn’t really complain. Of course, they really didn’t talk about her.
He dried off as he thought and started pulling his clothes back on. He watched Mike take stuff out of a huge duffel bag and put it on.
Tom ran his fingers through his damp hair and then picked up his jacket. Mike hurriedly shoved all of his equipment back into the bag. He slung it over his shoulder and picked up his hockey stick. “Let’s go.”
They made their way from the locker room. Tom ignored the guy dressed in a security uniform and very carefully didn’t meet his eyes.
Grinning, Mike bumped his shoulder as they made their way to the parking lot.
~+~
Neither of them said much on the way to the restaurant. Tom was still thinking and Mike just turned on the radio and sang along. It made Tom grin.
Michael always did that; made him smile, even if he didn’t want to.
Jamie didn’t do that anymore. Lately, anytime he was in the same room as her, they fought. They argued about the usual things -- money, his hours at work, who would take out the trash and, of course, Mike.
Just like he refused to talk about Jamie with Mike, Tom didn’t like discussing him with her either. She hated that. He thought she might hate that more than what he actually did with Mike.
Mike was still singing along with the radio. Tom didn’t recognize the song, but Mike knew all the words. He was even using hand gestures.
When Mike elbowed him, Tom rolled his eyes. “Come on! Everyone now!”
Laughing at the face Mike made, Tom shook his head. “I don’t know the words.”
“My God,” he said as he put his hand on his chest in mock-shock. “How can I be friends with someone so uncultured?”
Tom laughed again. “Uncultured? It’s eighties pop, Mike.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Well,” he huffed. “Fine.” He made another ‘hmph’ noise and folded his arms.
A red light ahead forced Tom to slow down and stop. He turned slightly and said, “I’m just joking, you know.”
Grinning, Mike nodded. “I know. Me, too. It *is* eighties pop.”
Tom smiled back and turned back to the road, hitting the gas when the light turned green. He made a right turn and slowed as they neared the Italian place they always went to. It was small, relatively unknown and they rarely got recognized there. The wait-staff and owner always made sure they had a mostly private table, plus, the food was great.
“Listen,” Mike started as they got out of Tom’s car. “I’m not sure what happened, but I don’t want to fight, so whatever it is, I’m sorry. Okay?”
They’d only had one fight. It had been a huge one, though. Yelling and screaming and the only good thing had been the make-up sex that had followed it. Tom didn’t even remember what the fight had been about. Probably Jamie.
Tom smiled and shook his head. “You didn’t do anything, Mike. Really. I’m just thinking. My mind is running on overtime.”
“You’re sure?”
Tom nodded. He almost reached down to take Mike’s hand. He stopped himself in time, smiling sheepishly at Mike when his almost-gesture was met with a raised eyebrow.
The hostess greeted them as they walked in and led them to a table in the back. It was almost romantic. Tom wondered if she suspected something.
The girl just smiled at them, though, and dropped menus in front of them. So maybe she didn’t have a clue.
Tom took a deep breath as they sat down and pushed all of his bad thoughts away. Friends having dinner he reminded himself.
Mike was looking at his menu, so Tom opened his own and tried to decide on something.
He *was* pretty hungry.
Mike kept looking at him over the top of his menu. He crossed his eyes and waggled his eyebrows. Tom had to smile.
Tom closed his menu and looked around. The waitress showed up at almost that same moment and smiled at them. “Hey, guys. What is it going to be this evening?”
“I’ll have the Chicken Alfredo with a Caesar salad.”
Tom rolled his eyes. Mike always ordered the same thing.
“And to drink?” The waitress asked.
“Just water is fine.”
She nodded and turned to Tom. “Sausage and Peppers,” he ordered. “With a house salad. And iced tea.”
She nodded, saying, “I’ll bring your garlic rolls and drinks in a minute,” as she went back to the kitchen.
Music played over the speakers, filling the silence. Their knees bumped under the table. Tom smiled and moved his leg to do it again.
Mike leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “I’ve been thinking.” Tom raised an eyebrow as Mike continued, “I really do owe you for the whole bead thing.”
“Come on, Mike. That was fun.”
“Oh, I’m not saying it wasn’t. The opposite, in fact. I just feel like you need to have the same kind of experience. To be fair.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Fair? What would you consider fair?”
Mike smiled. Evil was the only way Tom could categorize it.
When he didn’t answer, Tom questioned again, “What did you have in mind?”
Mike shrugged, that same smile on his face. It really worried Tom. It wasn’t that he thought his friend would do anything *bad*, but it had the potential to be embarrassing if nothing else.
“I could talk you out of paybacks, don’t you think?”
Mike shook his head, smiling. But it wasn’t a firm ‘no’.
“Well,” Tom said as he leaned in close. “I could offer you a blow job and a really good fuck,” he whispered.
“You think that will make things ‘fair’?”
Tom smiled and sat back as the waitress showed up with the rolls and drinks on a tray. She set them down and left straws on the table, as she promised, “Your salads will be out in a few minutes.”
Both men nodded at her and acted like nothing at all was being said about sex. When she left, Tom smiled. “I didn’t say where.”
Mike smirked. “Where?”
“My house.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “That isn’t so great.”
Tom pouted. It was his best tool of persuasion. “I give excellent blow jobs.”
“I was in no way suggesting you didn’t,” Mike pointed out, grinning. “I just don’t know if your house is such a bargaining tool.”
“I have a pool.”
Mike was laughing at this point.
Tom sighed. “We don’t have a lot of new places. I mean, we’ve already used the set, your van, both of our places. Now even the hockey rink.”
“We haven’t done it here.”
The waitress slid their salads in front of them and smiled. “Dinner will be out soon.” She left and Tom was still gaping at Mike. “Here?” He asked incredulously. “Like, right here on the table?”
Mike laughed. “I’m kidding.”
Tom breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head. “Thank God.”
“But I will take you up on your earlier offer.” He forked a piece of his lettuce and chewed.
“Good. I was hoping you would.”
~*~
Their dinner arrived just as they were finishing their salads. The waitress was very efficient. She showed up with freshly grated cheese and a pitcher of water to refill Mike’s glass. A few seconds later, she was back with a pitcher of iced tea to refill Tom’s.
Just another reason why it was a great restaurant.
The food was good and he and Mike chatted about different things. They very carefully didn’t talk about what they were doing after dinner.
Mike finished first, like always. He pushed back his plate and rubbed his hand across his stomach. “That was great,” he said as his eyes watched Tom’s mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He kept watching and Tom stuck his tongue out.
Mike grinned. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Oh, I can. And I will.” He licked his fork and arched his eyebrow at Mike. “Really.”
Tom nodded and Mike grinned. “I think I’m finished.”
He looked around for the waitress and caught her eye. She came over, smiling. “Are you all done? Do you guys want dessert? Or should I just wrap this up for you?”
“No dessert,” Tom said, eyeing Mike. “I think we’ll be having dessert at home.”
He ignored the look Mike gave him. Instead, he smiled at the waitress and took the check from her.
~*~
Tom fumbled his keys as they got to his door. Mike’s hand on his lower back didn’t steady him at all.
He finally got the door open and barking met them as they crossed into the room. Lights blazed, and Tom dropped his keys absently into a bowl on the entry way table as the dogs jumped on him. They didn’t even faze him anymore.
Mike had left his duffel in the car, and he shrugged off his jacket as Tom made his way into the kitchen and pushed his container of food inside the fridge. He was surprised by strong arms wrapping around him, and a warm mouth on his neck as Mike pressed against him.
“You feel great.”
Mike smiled into his neck and let out a breath across his skin. Tom twisted and wrapped his arms around Mike and leaned down for a kiss.
Slow, deep kiss. Mouths and tongues meeting, exploring. Arms wrapped around each other and Tom slid his hands underneath Mike’s shirt.
Mike pulled back, eyes sparkling as he said, “I think I was promised something…”
Looking around, Tom grinned. “What? Here?”
Mike nodded and grinned back. Shrugging, Tom dropped gently to his knees onto the hard tile. “I did promise.”
His hands found Mike’s waistband and Tom leaned in, nuzzling against his crotch as he unbuttoned the pants. Tom breathed deeply, smiling before mouthing Mike’s length through the denim.
Mike groaned and his hands dropped to Tom’s head, winding fingers into his hair.
“Didn’t we already do this once today?” Tom asked as he tugged Mike’s pants and boxers down, letting them pool at his ankles.
Mike shifted, spreading his legs as much as his pants would allow. “Are you complaining?”
Tom licked the hardening cock in front of him and laughed slightly. “No. Just making an observation.”
“Good,” Mike breathed.
Tom wrapped his fingers around Mike’s cock and stroked gently as he watched Mike’s face. Mouth open, head tipped back, panting slightly. And Tom hadn’t even done much yet.
He leaned back down and tongued the head, pushing against the slit. Mike’s hands, still on his head, tried to pull him closer. Tom resisted and kept licking.
“Suck me.”
Tom obeyed, but only sucked the head of Mike’s cock into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around, but not going any further.
Mike groaned. Tom smiled and sat back on his heels, licking his lips.
“Tom,” Mike said breathlessly. “Please…” He opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at Tom.
“You’re so hard,” Tom said as he stroked with his hand.
Biting his lip, Mike ran his fingers through Tom’s hair and down to his chin. “Please,” he asked again. “I need…God! Tommy, don’t make me beg.”
Tom didn’t answer. Instead, he let his fingers go loose and move slower. He watched Mike’s face twist in frustration. Breathing out, Tom blew air across the head, just to see it twitch.
“Tommy, please. I need you, God.”
Mike’s hips arched forward and Tom grinned. He was panting now, delirious with desire and Tom thought it was perfect. “You look amazing like this, Mike.”
Glassy eyes looked down on him and fingers trailed down his face. “Please,” Mike whispered. Tom couldn’t stand it any more.
He opened his mouth and swallowed as he took Mike’s cock inside. Heavy, hot and hard across his tongue. Slick with want. Tom’s own cock was hard in his pants.
No cadence as Mike started moving. Erratic thrusts as Tom’s hands found Mike’s hips, holding on, holding Mike still.
He moved back and forth on Mike’s cock, setting his own rhythm, taking what he wanted.
Tom loved giving Mike head. Loved the feel of cock in his mouth. Full and slick and just so fucking hot. Tom thought about dragging it out, but when he heard the noises coming out of Mike, he couldn’t bring himself to even want to.
Little whimpers and moans escaped from Mike’s lips. Little sounds that Tom just loved. Loved that he could make Mike so wild and incoherent.
“Tom…Tommy,” Mike chanted as he came.
Tom pulled back, smiling still holding onto Mike’s hips. His legs shook and Tom stood quickly to capture Mike’s lips in a fierce kiss.
He walked them through the kitchen door. They passed the living room and moved down the hall. Tumbling them on the bed, Tom rolled them onto the comforter, lips still together.
Tom leaned back and looked at Michael. They’d lost his pants somewhere on the way to the bedroom and his shirt was unbuttoned.
Grinning, Mike sat up and kissed Tom as he ran his fingers all over Tom’s chest.
Tom groaned as he pressed his erection against Mike’s thigh. “Too many clothes, Tommy,” Mike said as he met the thrust. “You’re supposed to fuck me.”
“Oh, I’m going to.” Tom’s hands were at his waistband as he fumbled the rest of his buttons and shoved his jeans down enough to pull his cock out.
He kept the lube in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Jamie never looked in there. He reached for it and felt Mike pushing his pants the rest of the way down. Tom managed to kick them off when he sat up with the lube in his hand.
Stretching out over Mike, Tom wanted more contact. His hands found Mike’s arms, running up and down. Soft, wet kisses were placed on Mike’s throat and chest. Tom curled himself between Mike’s knees and ran his tongue along his inner thigh.
Mike groaned and tried to sit up, but Tom pushed him back and lifted his hips. He bent closer and licked lower, around Mike’s balls, down to that little patch of skin behind them.
“God, Tom. What are you doing?”
He chuckled, and with a swipe of his tongue, whispered, “Torturing you.”
A moan was Mike’s only reply as Tom twisted into a more comfortable position before nuzzling in more, getting closer to the center. Small, cat-like licks, until he brushed his tongue across Mike’s hole.
He made a noise that Tom could only classify as a yelp as Mike twitched in surprise. Grinning, Tom took to his task in earnest, painting stripes with his tongue. He’d never done this before. Not with any man or woman he’d ever slept with before. He’d never wanted to before.
But he wanted all of Mike. Every part that Mike would give him. He pushed his tongue against the hole, trying to gain admittance, still needing more.
Above him, Mike was babbling every curse word Tom had ever heard, and some he hadn’t. Praying to every deity in the universe, pleading for more, for something, anything… And Tom finally pushed his tongue inside, giving Mike exactly what they both wanted.
“Jesus, Tom. Fuck!”
Mike tried to squirm away, but Tom held fast to his hips. In and in, deeper with his tongue, until all he could hear was Mike’s whimpers. Dark and musky, he licked and probed with his tongue mercilessly.
Almost painfully hard, Tom was rubbing against the sheets without realizing it. He had to stop, had to fuck Mike. He stilled his hips and groped around for the bottle of lube. Moving slightly, he realized his hands were shaking as he poured it onto his fingers and slid two immediately into Mike.
He couldn’t wait anymore.
Gasping and moaning, Mike arched his back and pushed himself onto Tom’s fingers. “Tommy…Tommy.” He was barely whispering now, breathy rasping the only thing Tom heard.
Tom yanked his fingers out and wiped them on the sheets before dumping more lube onto his fingers and slicking his cock. He moved onto his knees, lined himself up and slid inside.
Mike looked fucking gorgeous as he pushed into him. Lower lip caught between his teeth, that little scar stretched across his upper lip. Mike’s eyes were squeezed shut, in pleasure Tom knew, sweet, agonizing pleasure as Tom moved inside.
He loved this part. He loved all the parts. More. The word reverberated in his brain as he finally started to move.
He couldn’t help groaning at the heat he felt. He was going insane. This felt too wonderful, too amazing to be completely normal. He held onto Mike’s hips as he rocked into him. Deeper and deeper with each stroke, until he was completely sheathed inside, his balls resting against Mike’s ass.
“Fuck me, Tom. Hard,” Mike ordered breathlessly.
So he did. Nothing held back, no choice but to do exactly as Mike wanted. Every thrust met by Mike, skin slapping together, sweat beading and sliding along their bodies…
It had never felt like this with anyone before. Not anybody he’d messed around with in high school, or when he was a model, and definitely not Jamie. He’d never felt so connected with another person.
Heat and pleasure swept through him, pooling in his belly. He reached for Mike’s cock, wrapping a hand around it, needing Mike to come.
Tom shifted, changing the angle in which he fucked Mike. Stroking the cock in his hand as he shoved inside. The rhythm matched for a few seconds, until Tom couldn’t think enough to follow it anymore, even though it was his own.
It didn’t take long before Mike was coming. His ass clenched around Tom, and all control was gone. A wild thrust in as he shouted, wordlessly following Mike over the edge.
Panting, Tom finally opened his eyes after a few seconds. Mike was almost asleep already. He looked amazingly beautiful.
Tom moved, slipping out of Mike and settled next to him on the bed. He groped around and found a t-shirt. He used it to clean them both up as best he could, too exhausted to even suggest a shower. They were going to be sticky in the morning.
His mind was shutting down, he was almost asleep himself when he felt Mike snuggle closer to him. Mike whispered words against Tom’s neck, and Tom couldn’t believe it.
His eyes flew open, completely awake all of a sudden, and he listened closely to Mike’s breath evening out against his neck.
“I love you, too,” he whispered.
It wasn’t weird like he thought it might be. It was perfect.
[ main l rps l fps ]
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