by N. J. Lysk
“Condom,” Uri panted—and, for the first time, he sounded like a man about to break.
Of course, he’d already broken Thomas’s capacity for speech. He blindly reached for the drawer until he found a little foil package, then bit the corner off and passed it over. Uri took it from him, and he must have been a champion at putting it on because only moments later he was pushing Thomas’s hand back against the wall and pressing close again, his heavy erection burning even through the silicone.
It felt even hotter between his legs but he pushed his arse out anyway. The reward was swift; Uri positioned himself and pressed in, steady and unstoppable, stretching him a little too much before pausing. He was a big guy, and Thomas had to breathe in as he was opened up, concentrating on reminding his body of what it was capable. He hadn’t been fucked in a while—work had got quite intense since Carry had been moved to their line and, entertaining as the drama could be, it meant Thomas hadn’t had much time for sex.
He exhaled slowly as he took another inch. “Okay?” Uri murmured, his own voice straining almost to the point of breaking.
He nodded, then swallowed. “Been a while,” he explained. The other man stilled behind him. Inside him. And dammit, the guy had self-control! It was almost unbearable. Thomas clenched around the length inside him and smiled when Uri huffed out a breath like it’d been punched out of him.
He still didn’t move.
“More,” he demanded with his voice and body both, pushing closer.
Apparently ‘please’ wasn’t the only magic word; it was like he’d unlocked something in his partner because he pulled out and he didn’t simply enter Thomas again, he shoved in, like he was taking everything at once, like he couldn’t hold back a second longer. His hips snapped in harder the second time, like he’d truly lost control, and Thomas shuddered hard under him—the edge of too much only adding to the ecstasy of almost enough. It felt like each thrust sent him a little closer, but he wasn’t able to take his hands off the wall to touch himself. And then a particularly hard push made his left elbow give, his forearm hitting the wall with a thump that made him wince. But it was a blessing in disguise because while he couldn’t hold himself one-handed, he could certainly support his weight if he put half his bent arm between his head and the wall. Uri’s pace had stuttered when he’d slipped, then resumed a little slower when Thomas had shoved back demanding he keep going. Even so, his hips were circling instead of shoving, and Thomas felt the hand around his waist caressing his middle in what he thought was either an apology or a question. “I’m good,” he mumbled, and Uri hummed and pressed his face to the back of his neck with a happy sigh even as his pace sped up again.
It was a little less forceful and a little more careful, which meant he was getting done deep. Thomas sighed, feeling almost like he was getting a massage—his prostate certainly was—even as his cock bounced with each languorous penetration. He laughed when he realised he’d forgotten why he needed to free his hand. Uri made an inquiring noise, not interrupting the torturously perfect rhythm of his pistoning hips. And suddenly it seemed perfectly obvious that he didn't need his hand; he needed Uri's. "Touch me," he asked, his voice raspy and used like he'd...
The man holding him startled a little, then lowered his right hand and took hold of Thomas's erection once more, petting it gently and making him shudder with the dual sensations inside and outside him. He groaned, letting his head fall forward and arching into the next languorous, luxurious thrust. Maybe Uri read it as the submission he'd been trying to tease out of him because his hold tightened and he started masturbating him in earnest, perfectly in sync with his own cock entering Thomas's body. Almost like he was jerking himself off instead of... Thomas sighed happily as Uri hit his sweet spot right when his hand reached the crown of his cock. He was sweating, the burn no longer alleviated by Uri's touch, and he couldn't last.
He did not; the moment Uri tightened his hold around his waist and cock both, he fell right off the edge like he'd been shoved over. He made a right mess of the wall in front of him and, he suspected, also of his lover's hand, but neither the hand nor the cock stopped their perfect rhythm. Thomas slumped forward, only keeping his feet because the man behind him forced him to. He was barely awake enough to clench hard against the penetration, arse spasming in retribution to the sweet overstimulation.
It was too much, but he liked... Uri pressed inside once more and stilled, spilling deep within in perfect immobility, almost like— A sudden burst of pain on his arm made him straighten, pushing him back into his lover, still trembling from the aftereffects of his own orgasm.
And, dammit, he couldn't believe he'd missed the chance to look him in the face while he came... Uri's arms tightened, now both around his waist once again, and Thomas almost spoke an objection, but it was only a moment before his lover stepped back and withdrew, his great length leaving him feeling strangely empty.
He closed his eyes to centre himself, leaning his forehead against the wall as he got his breath back and found himself wondering how painful he'd find it to skate the next day. He heard Uri open the door to the ensuite bathroom and the click of the bin reacting to a human waving at it. The condom, of course.
And if the previous nerves were anything to go by, he didn't have long before the best fuck he could remember walked right out his door.
Not that he expected much from a stranger he'd picked up at a children's concert, naturally, but he didn't want to keep wondering what the guy would look like when he... well, died a little.
“Merci per la petite mort,” he said, turning around on wobbly legs. He leaned against the wall, careless of the mess.
Uri was back in the bedroom with a wet towel in his hand, which he'd clearly intended to offer to Thomas.
He waved it away and said, also in French, "Let's just shower; you won't believe the jets in here."
Uri hesitated, but finally commented, “I can’t believe you were making fun of me, your accent sounds native!”
“I notice you didn’t answer the question of where you learned it yourself, counsellor.” He led the way into the bathroom and set to programming the bathtub—he had water restrictions like everyone else, of course, but there was nothing quite like a hot soak when you worked your muscles to exhaustion almost every day. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do with the money the team saved him on rent, and most of the time he travelled enough that if he exceeded his personal quota, it was by very little.
“An old friend taught me the more colourful stuff,” Uri finally told him. Thomas didn’t ask but it seemed clear this was the kind of friend who might have taught him in contextually appropriate circumstances.
“Come in, sit down for a minute; it fills up quick.” He rummaged under the sink for some salts and dropped them in the water, making it bubble. He checked on Uri, who wasn’t running away and who hadn’t asked about the bathtub in a flat for an able-bodied adult. “My father has business in Toulouse,” he explained. “So he made Colleen and me attend La academie Françe.”
If he’d thought Uri would be slowed down by either the orgasms or the open display of luxury, he was very much mistaken. He was leaning back on the cistern and his raised eyebrows would have probably expressed his disbelief in sonnet form without a single word said. “And they taught you about sex metaphors there, of course.”
Thomas turned to face him, exposing his body and enjoying the way it drew the other man’s gaze. “Well, it wasn’t in class, but technically...”
“I see,” Uri said, looking strangely smug. “Well, when I tell you this, I don’t mean it technically but literally: if you don’t turn the water off now, it’ll overflow when we get in.”
“Dammit!” Thomas almost fell in his hurry to reach the controls. Once the water had stopped flowing, he turned to glare at his guest. “Couldn’t you have told me earlier?”
Uri got to his feet and shrugged, the impossible elegance of his body so arresting that Thomas forgot to be mad. Dark hair
curled on his chest, making Thomas’s fingers itch to touch.
“You gonna get in?” Uri asked, eyes bright with mischief.
It hadn’t been a coincidence, Thomas realised, but a response to his question. He shook his head at him, then stepped inside and slowly sank into the gloriously hot water, not keeping back a sight of pleasure as he arched his back a little. He allowed himself a few seconds to savour it—both the physical sensations and the awareness of being watched—before raising his eyes to meet Uri’s. “Are you coming?”
Chapter Four: Uriel
Uri hadn’t meant to linger. But he was only human and when the gorgeous guy who’d picked you up in the place you least expected and then made you laugh and blush before letting you fuck his brains out while making noises like he was begging you for it...Well, when that guy got into a bloody Jacuzzi and casually asked you to sit between his spread legs, you did not walk away.
Despite Thomas gigantic limbs and Uri’s not inconsiderable height, they fit comfortably without having to squeeze together so Uri had the chance to get distracted by the luxury of it all. He hadn’t even realised how sore he was until the jets of water started hitting his upper arms and he groaned and almost slipped underwater before Thomas tugged him back up, chuckling. “Careful there.”
“Ugh,” Uri mostly sighed, feeling like he was about to dissolve into the water. Thomas’s hands hadn’t left his shoulder, keeping him upright, but he’d have been happy to be allowed to lean his whole weight back against the solid surface of his— of Thomas’s chest. “Why do you even have a bathtub one can drown in?”
“Came—”
He started laughing before Thomas could finish. “Did they just pick you up and put you in a dollhouse?” he asked, leaning his head back against Thomas’s well-turned shoulder—it was a little hard but his neck was mostly underwater so there wasn’t a lot of weight to support.
Thomas’s slid his hands lower, a caress that helped keep Uri above water and drew him close at once, then his knees tightened around Uri’s and he startled a little. It was an odd sensation to be surrounded like that, he didn’t think he’d ever been with a lover bigger than he was.
“You have some balls, don’t you? Dissing me when you have your neck exposed like this...” To prove his point, he bit Uri’s ear, hard enough for the sensation to linger after he let go and kissed the side of his neck.
Uri shuddered hard, brain torn between the dual signals of arousal and threat. He couldn’t—
“Wow,” Thomas whispered, rubbing his hip. “You’re sensitive.”
He shook his head, more to dispel the effects of the heat than to answer; he didn’t understand why it’d hit him so hard. He was supposed to... Why would he suddenly like someone putting their mouth to his neck like... Thomas sat up straighter, pulling Uri towards him so he’d sit as well, and only when Thomas knee bumped his own did Uri notice his cock was hard again. Then his arse was firmly pressed against Thomas’s own groin and it was very clear the interest was mutual.
He turned his torso as much as he could manage to look him in the face. It was all it took; he felt the tension going out of the other man as clearly as if the bad spirits were visibly draining into the water. He must have been worried, Uri realised. He offered a tentative smile.
“You like that?” the beta asked. There was nothing behind it, no teasing or mocking, no... expectations. Because Thomas didn’t know he was an alpha, so he didn’t expect Uri to like anything in particular beyond what felt good on human skin. It was almost as much of a rush as the kiss had been.
“Yeah,” he said. It was easy to admit, body well sated, interested in more but happy to wait for it. “Only thing missing is the champagne,” he joked.
It wasn’t a great joke, but it wasn’t bad enough for Thomas to look away. “Um, if... You can’t laugh, okay?” he said and, as Uri blinked at him, he started fumbling with the side of the bathtub. The click was loud enough to be heard even with the jets still rushing around them.
Uri straightened further, turning to lean over the side. There was a bloody compartment on the side of the Jacuzzi.
No, a mini-fridge. “If you tell me the champagne came with the flat,” he warned, meeting Thomas’s eyes. “I’m leaving.”
“No champagne,” Thomas said quickly. “Just...” He leaned over the side to peer inside, water sliding down his torso like the luckiest cascade in existence. For all his teasing, he had seemingly forgotten he was a very distracting sight naked. Uri hardly could. “Beer, and apple juice,” he concluded.
“Apple juice,” Uri repeated, which was taken as a request until Thomas straightened with the bottle in hand and saw his face. Uri took it off him—his mouth was getting dryer by the minute and anything that cooled him down was welcomed. “Why do you have apple juice of all things?” he asked Thomas before taking a swig.
“My sisters,” he said simply, like that was all the explanation required. Then again, he’d been at the concert, even though one of the first things he’d admitted about himself was that he didn’t see eye to eye with his parents. Maybe that was exactly why Thomas felt protective of his sisters, still stuck at home and forced to follow rules Thomas himself had chafed against. It wasn’t something Uri could quite understand; David was only a few months older than Uri and to all intents and purposes, they’d always been equals—they’d been friends all their lives, loyal to a fault. But ultimately, they’d had their mothers supporting them—it had never been up to Uriel to save David. Or vice versa. Not even the territorial instincts that came with being an alpha had changed that; there were simply no circumstances that called for it.
Uri licked his lips, well aware of being watched. Turnabout was fair play, though, so he met Thomas’s eyes and took a long swallow, enjoying the sweet coolness in his mouth and throat.
Thomas’s eyes had almost no green left in them when he was done. “Don’t forget to buy more,” he advised. His pretence of calm was impossible to really sell; now that he was half turned towards him, all the beta had to do was look down to see the evidence of Uri’s very keen interest.
“Had enough?”
“Mmm... yeah. Want some?” he returned, not quite able to keep the smile back.
“Yes,” Thomas told him, completely shameless.
His sincerity was almost as disarming as his looks. Uri silently handed the bottle back. Thomas put it down somewhere but didn’t take long enough to have bothered to put it back in the mini-fridge. They were probably going to step on it when they got out, Uri thought, even as he stretched his neck uncomfortably to press their mouths back together.
Thomas groaned against his lips, his left hand gripping Uri’s arm to keep him in position as Thomas dipped his tongue into his mouth. It was Uri who was twisted into a ridiculous position—one knee bent, the other leg straight, torso like a half-made ringlet—but Thomas pulled away first. “I want to feel you,” he explained. “Turn around.”
Uri was contemplating the logistics of getting to his knees when Thomas tugged him the opposite way instead, pressing his back against Thomas’s front and holding him close. Uri shuddered at the erection poking him on his lower back, leaning into the touch by pure instinct.
Thomas was solid and warm, and... “Yeah,” he whispered into Uri’s ear. “Let me...” His hand slid down Uri’s front and took hold of his weeping cock in the warm water; the strength of his grip was a relief so intense it had Uri arching into the touch. Thomas started jerking him off, back and forth, too gently and too slowly, getting to the head and swiping his thumb softly over the head. He didn’t comment on the lack of foreskin, but he touched a little hesitantly the first time, then tried a little harder when Uri just squirmed for more. “Like that?” came the question, and then Thomas actually licked the side of his neck and Uri’s hips snapped forward of their own volition.
He didn’t understand, but Thomas didn’t ask, just did it again. When his other hand sneaked under Uri’s bottom and tugged his thigh up to reach his sack
, Uri almost came on the spot, shuddering so hard his lover stopped his movements to just grip him hard by cock and leg. Uri let his head fall back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as his brain tried to deal with everything he was feeling.
Thomas exhaled noisily next to his ear. He was burning up under Uri—possibly the hot water, possibly just his own body working overtime. He slowly slid his hand down Uri’s cock again, then rubbed the tips of his fingers against his balls and perineum. It wasn’t an area his previous lovers had paid particular attention to; it turned out they’d been wrong not to. It felt... electrifying. It wasn’t the overwhelming pleasure of his cock or balls, but a progressive, almost suspenseful awakening of nerves that had been long neglected.
He hadn’t thought he would... He lost the thought as Thomas tentatively pushed his own hips forward against Uri’s back. Only when he dug his nails into Thomas’s arms around him did Uri noticed he’d been holding onto his lover’s forearms the whole time. Thomas let out a low whimpering noise right by his left ear that made Uri’s hips shove into his fist hard and uncoordinated, almost dislodging his grip.
Thomas laughed a little, breathless and struggling to keep them balanced. “Hold onto the side of the tub,” he asked.
Uri managed to obey, which was fortunate because Thomas’s next move was to abandon his arse and take firm hold of his waist to pull him higher. When he thrust again, his dick slid against Uri’s crack at the same time his hand tightened and expertly rubbed at the head of Uri’s own cock.
He squeezed his eyes shut, arching into it—both the hand and the hot slick skin of another man’s member against the hypersensitive area between his arse cheeks.
And just like that, it was over. Thomas kept hold of him as his climax rushed through him like a wave—implacable and unstoppable—and somehow managed to keep them both afloat.