by Willa Okati
“I’m not letting you go.” Harper pressed two knuckles to the softly stubbled underside of Rory’s chin, lifted his face, and slotted their lips together almost chastely.
When they parted, Rory’s eyes stayed shut and his lips hung slightly slack. “I hate you sometimes.”
“No.” Harper feathered the pad of his thumb over Rory’s cheekbone and spoke with confidence. “You love me.” He rested his lips over Rory’s. “Same as I love you.”
“Don’t you dare say that. Not now.”
“Why not? It’s true. I. Love. You. I could write it on the walls if that’d help. I ‑‑”
He didn’t see the punch coming, and only registered the jarring flash of pain when he was already on his ass, gaping up at Rory.
Rory shook out his fist, the knuckles abraded. “Gonna report me now?” he taunted. “Gonna make this easier on both of us?”
“That’s not what you want.” Harper licked his lips, tasting blood. His or Rory’s? He couldn’t tell. Either or both, didn’t matter. The energy charged through him with the force of wildfire. “You want to stay. Don’t tell me ‘no’ and ‘don’t’ because maybe I can’t look in your head or see your aura, but I’ve sucked you off, begged you to fuck me, blown out my year’s budget on toast and jam, and I’ve spent days on end writing with you at my side. I know you.”
“Stop it.”
“You want to stay.” Harper rolled to his knees.
“Repeat it until you turn blue, and it won’t change anything.”
“Or maybe it will. Look, I don’t have the answers. Not right now. But I have you.” He rose, skimming his palms first up Rory’s tensed legs, then his stiffened arms, the whole of his body vibrating with tension. “How about you admit I win, we skip the rest of the argument, and ‑‑”
Rory’s mouth crashed into Harper’s, splitting his lip; his hands slammed to Harper’s back, short nails digging into his skin; he hooked his ankle behind Harper’s knee and brought them both crashing down. “And what?” he demanded, his whisper harsh, and bit at Harper’s chest. “What then?”
“Then, this,” Harper answered, rolling them over together, Rory beneath him. “I show you who’s in charge now.”
Rory stilled. “Then do something about it.”
“I will.” Harper slid his hand beneath Rory’s oversize sweatshirt and traced the ridges of muscle underneath, top to bottom. “Starting with this.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. Don’t vanish your clothes this time. Let me strip you bare.”
Rory swallowed, shivered, and nodded. He lay still and let Harper undress him. Arms up and the sweatshirt brushed off his shoulders, crumpling soft under his head. He watched Harper, a circle of white around his irises, his pupils blown wide.
“Don’t be afraid.” Harper touched the tip of his finger to Rory’s lips.
“I’m not scared of anything.”
“Liar.” Harper thumbed open the buttons on Rory’s too-big jeans. He cupped his palm over the fat girth of Rory’s cock and kneaded his way up the length. “Don’t lie to me. Ever again. And I won’t, to you.”
“Okay.” Rory’s voice was nearly gone. He stared at Harper as if he’d never seen Harper before, or never known he could be this person. “You’ve got my word. I promise.”
“Good.” Harper hooked both sides of Rory’s open fly and pulled the denim down, letting Rory raise his hips long enough to slide them free. He backed down Rory’s body as he went and knelt at Rory’s bare feet when the jeans slipped free over his toes.
Then, he sat back on his heels and looked his fill. Rory was gorgeous like this, not quite human, a wild thing flushed pink and sweat shiny with exertion, his cock curved up over his groin and his heavy balls pulled tight to his body.
Rory prodded Harper with his toes. “This isn’t a spectator sport. I wanna see you, too.”
“I can do that.” Harper stood, shrugging off his jacket. He peeled his shirt off and threw it who knew where without a care. The urge to tease came and vanished in the flicker of an eye when he brushed his aching hard-on.
Rory’s gaze went dark, his eyelids hooded. “Naked. Now.”
Harper shoved his jeans to his ankles and took his socks along with them. He wanted to stand over Rory and drink him in longer. Would have, if his legs had held him instead of bringing him to his knees, and then chest to chest with Rory, hands in Rory’s short hair and lips scraping raw on Rory’s stubble. His cock nestled in the ridge of Rory’s oblique and thrust through the channel, slickening its own way.
“Fuck me. You have to,” Rory begged, his breath too hot over Harper’s eyelids. “Be in me, Harper, please.”
Harper groaned and burrowed his forehead against Rory’s armpit, snaking his tongue out for a taste. “Nothing to use.” He thrust, the friction between their bodies incandescent. “Not getting up if the place is on fire.”
“Don’t have to have any.” Rory caught Harper’s hand and dragged it downward. “Need it too much. Can’t wait. It’ll be okay.”
“No.” Harper tried to wrench away from Rory’s grasp. “I won’t hurt you. Not again.”
“I want it to hurt.” Rory forced Harper’s hand between his legs and led Harper’s fingers to his entrance. He pressed down, pushing Harper’s fingertip against muscle that didn’t want to yield.
Harper bit his lip, tasted blood, and swore.
“Just like this. Wanna feel you. For days. Know you were here. If ‑‑”
“Don’t say that.” Harper captured Rory’s mouth with his own and replaced words with taste, fucking him with sharp jabs of his tongue. He traced Rory’s teeth and worried his lower lip. “Just don’t.”
“Please.” Rory lifted his leg and hooked it around Harper’s, canting up. Harper’s finger skidded, bumping Rory’s hole. Both hissed, the sound of steam engines and too much pressure. Something had to give.
Harper closed his eyes and pushed. Rory opened for him with a small grunt of not pain, not pleasure, something different. Harper rasped words that made no sense, his rough breathing heating the curve of Rory’s throat. “Not like this.”
“You want it.” Rory tried to force Harper’s hand. “Don’t need much. Only you.”
“Want it. Doesn’t mean I will.” He licked Rory’s mouth closed. “Like this.”
“Harper, what are you ‑‑” Rory’s stomach jerked as Harper crawled backward, down him, knees knocking, legs tangling, the rise and fall of his breathing carrying Harper away. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not.” Harper settled between Rory’s sprawled legs and thrust his arms beneath Rory’s thighs, lifting them.
“Fuck, Harper, fuck ‑‑”
“I am.” Harper put out his tongue and slithered over the small blind pouch, lifted Rory higher, and tasted where he’d touched.
Rory’s back arched. “Harper!”
Harper breathed out through his nose. He kneaded Rory’s hips, raising him higher still, holding him in place and thrusting his tongue as far past the rim as he could go. Saliva trailed down in slick strings, guided back up with the finger that joined his tongue, then two, coaxing Rory open, not forcing. Rory cursed, jerked his hips in a vain search for anything to rut against, the wet sounds of his cock slapping his belly driving Harper mad.
He jerked Harper’s hair, the angle awkward and painful. “Stop it, Harper, goddamn it, stop. Too close.”
Harper drew his tongue back the way he’d come. “I know.” He licked his lips, tasting Rory. “That’s the idea.”
“What are you ‑‑”
“Shh,” Harper breathed. He slid his lips, swollen and wet, around the head of Rory’s cock, sucked, and slid down.
Rory groaned, deep, the noise clawing its way from the inside out. His knees clamped Harper’s shoulders, too tight, bones creaking; his nails drew furrows on Harper’s scalp, trying to find a hold. “Gonna,” he said between panting breaths, “gonna, Harper, Harper ‑‑”
Harper p
ressed two fingers two knuckles deep in Rory and bent them. I want you to.
“Harper,” Rory said, not a scream, not a cry, not a curse, not a blessing, but something in between all of them. “Harper.” His hips cleared the floor in a harsh jerk, his stomach muscles rippled and his knees wrenched Harper shoulders askew.
Cum flooded Harper’s mouth, thick spurts matched by a rush of noise. His ears roared and his heart choked him. Grinding the heel of his hand against his cock almost didn’t stop him from coming without a touch from Rory.
He gathered the slippery fluid in his cheeks and didn’t swallow. Droplets escaped him, rolling down his chin, and the musky, spicy flavor burned his palate. He didn’t let go.
Careful of what he carried, he slipped off Rory’s messy, softening cock and rose to press his lips to Rory’s tense, quaking stomach. With skin to skin, he pursed his lips and let the bulging mouthful of cum he’d held on to drip on Rory’s belly, puddling there, rising as he poured the cooling slipperiness.
Rory’s cock jerked. “God. Harper.” He jerked uselessly at Harper’s hair. “Me. Give me ‑‑”
Harper fingered a yes on Rory’s chest and rose with a grace he never possessed, hovering above him, a inch of air separating his body from Rory’s and the puddle of cum on his belly. He parted his lips over Rory’s and let the last of Rory’s jizz trail out. Rory opened his mouth and put out his tongue to catch the salty line, groaning on his swallow.
“You,” he said, dazed. “Who knew you…”
“No one. Except you. Because there was you.” Harper wiped his lips on the hammering pulse in Rory’s throat and retreated. “Like this,” he said, voice wrecked. He dipped two fingers in the pool of cum and rubbed them against Rory’s relaxing hole. “Where there’s a will…”
“Oh, God.” Rory threw his arm over his eyes and shuddered violently, grinding his shoulders to the floor. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t plan to.” Harper rewet his fingers and added a third. He stroked Rory’s leg when he hissed with the sudden stretch and scissored his fingers without stopping to let Rory catch up. He wanted Rory like this, strung out, on edge.
Rory’s chest rose and fell almost without pause before Harper stopped, and he only stopped when Rory’s cock had filled a second time and bumped his chin. Too sensitive still, he knew it had to be, but he lathered a long figure eight around the purpling length anyway. Rory swore, pained, and flinched back, and then forward.
“Now. Fuck me now, Harper.”
Harper shut his eyes and squeezed the base of his cock. “Give me a sec.”
“Now, Harper, please ‑‑”
“Okay. Okay, I’ve got you.” Harper rose to his knees and took Rory by his sides, dragging his ass up Harper’s legs. Rory’s legs parted, feet falling heavily flat to prop him. He shook sweat out of his eyes, couldn’t see for the stinging anyway, and guided his cock on a dragging trail through the cleft of Rory’s ass until he bumped the puffy, abused flesh he’d tasted and fingered wide. “Take me.”
Rory nodded, swallowing fast and dry. “Yeah. Always.”
He slid home on a long, smooth stroke. Rory opened for him, just enough to enter, still tight, burning hot. He loosed a noise that didn’t sound human, an animal’s cry.
“Mine,” Harper said, dragging out. He thrust balls-deep. “Always mine.”
Rory’s nails tracked scratches down Harper’s arms, his back, his sides, marking him. He caught Harper’s rhythm and urged him harder, faster, demanding more.
“Say it.” Harper caught Rory’s cock and stroked. He twisted his wrist and pinched the head, forcing the slit gaping open. “Say it.”
“Don’t ‑‑”
“Say it.”
“Yours!” Rory thumped his head against the floor. “Damn it. Yours! Oh ‑‑” His heels dug into Harper’s back, locking in place; his channel spasmed and clenched Harper’s cock with a flare of white heat. He screamed without breath, his eyes rolling back in his head and shot, splatters daubing his nipples creamy white. Harper’s fingers bit deep into Rory’s hips as he hitched him one inch higher and yeah, right there, that was where he wanted ‑‑
His nails pierced Rory’s skin when he came. He’d have bruises, they both would, cuts and scrapes and bites and welts, puffy soreness, hyperaware nerves. Harper wasn’t sorry. If he could have made them permanent, he would have.
All the strength drained from Harper’s body with the last pulse of cum he had left. He managed only not to collapse on Rory, but to lower himself until his head rested on Rory’s heaving chest. For a moment, he didn’t know how long, there was nothing but the rattling rasps of their breathing and leaking semen coating his still half-hard cock as it slipped from Rory’s abused hole.
Rory clumsily stroked Harper’s hair. His fingers were still trembling with aftershocks. “Someone ate an extra bowl of Wheaties today, huh?”
Harper licked the dip of Rory’s navel just to make him suck in a breath. “You of all people should know about plot twists.” He mouthed at the soft skin. “I’m done playing the hapless hero. I know where the story’s going now.”
“Christ. If this is what riling up your temper gets me, I should piss you off more often.”
Though Harper heard the unspoken forgiveness and the small flare of hope, he still flinched; Rory’s halfhearted smart-assery scraped his already too-raw, too-exposed nerves. “Don’t joke.”
“Can’t help it, Harper.” Rory tugged at Harper, urging him up. He licked Harper’s lips and palmed Harper’s cheek, his own lips pressed full and tight. “You should know what you’re getting into if you’re seriously gonna…I am what I am, Harper.”
“No.” Harper bent and tasted Rory’s mouth again, pushing away the tension, drinking deep, not stopping before Rory let him in and tangled his fingers in Harper’s hair. “Not ‘what.’ Don’t you ever say ‘what’ again.”
“But I ‑‑”
“Who.” Harper kissed him. “You are who you are. And that’s mine.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’d think New York would sound different by night.”
“This is the city that never sleeps. Ever. Who’d think that?” Harper asked, forgoing covering his noisy yawn for winding a strand of Rory’s bangs around his forefinger.
“Beautiful. I give it a six-point-five.” Rory splayed his hand over Harper’s belly, parallel to his head, at rest on Harper’s pectorals. “You failed to groan and add the necessary ‘Oh, Lord!’ to the end.”
“To spare your delicate sensibilities.”
“Thanks ever so. Least you didn’t fart in my ear.”
“Manners are of the utmost importance.” Harper’s jaw popped on his second yawn.
“You’re a civilized piece of work, aren’t you?”
“Says the guy who just got off on being tied up and dildo fucked before taking it freestyle. You wore me out. Don’t gripe.” Harper chortled when Rory grumbled, conceding the point.
“Anything you want to slip to me, minus watermelons ‑‑”
“Watermelons?”
“I’ve known some kinky freaks over the years. Watermelons are the least disturbing.”
“Huh.” Harper toyed with Rory’s hair. “Zucchini, carrots, corn on the cob, bananas, none of these would I recommend to anyone with an ounce of common sense ‑‑”
“Damn, you’re a chatty lay.”
“Says you.” Harper tweaked Rory’s ear. “The mouth that never stops.”
Rory chuckled, his shoulders rising and falling with the quiet amusement. “You love my mouth and you know it.”
“Did I say I didn’t?” Harper wriggled in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkled sheets beneath him. No luck.
“Uncomfortable?”
“I’m good.” Harper’s arm tightened around Rory, curling protectively.
“Not a girl here, Harper.”
“Already got the memo on that one, thanks. I’ve got you. I’m fine.”
Rory mumbled something. Harpe
r didn’t have to look at him to know he’d gone deeply pink. What he said might have been “me too,” though Harper spared his dignity rather than asking him to speak up. He got the gist, anyway; he didn’t need more.
Groaning out his own yawn, Rory finished by licking the top of Harper’s navel. Harper’s cock gave an interested twitch.
“Maybe you like melons more than you say you do,” Rory murmured, wrapping his fingers around Harper’s cock. He thumbed the head, taking his time.
Harper breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He was almost too sore for this, too worn out. He combed his fingers through Rory’s hair, not sure if he urged Rory on or reprimanded him. Rory was going to be walking funny for at least a day as it was.
That last part, Harper didn’t mind. At all. Rory walking with a hitch and a limp, still feeling Harper’s cock buried balls-deep inside him every time he took a step… Harper hissed between his teeth and hardened.
“Insatiable,” Rory crooned, sliding down to lap at Harper’s cock. He cupped Harper’s balls and curled his fingers, prodding the middle two at Harper’s hole. “Want in here again. Can I?”
Harper’s hips jerked up. He raised his head to watch Rory licking delicately at his cockhead, catching thin strings of creamy white precum on his tongue. “Anything you ask for, it’s yours to take.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“So do something about it.”
“So maybe I will. Starting with this.” He sucked Harper’s cock between his lips, rolled his tongue as if Harper were a juicy plum and ducked his head, sinking down.
The pressure of his throat when he swallowed drew a not-quite shout from Harper, who shook with the adrenaline rush and the shock of two fingers’ worth of penetration, shallow still, so good he wanted to come and never wanted to come at the same time. Wanted to stay strung out like this forever, naked and sweaty, tangled up with his muse.
“That’s my boy,” Rory rasped, dragging his tongue under Harper’s sac. “Like I said. Insatiable.”
* * * * *
Rory gleamed with sweat, his chest rising and falling like a furnace bellows, on his back in sheets half-rucked off the bed, his legs splayed over a growing wet spot, Harper’s cum trickling from his ass.