Road Trip, Volume 1

by BA Tortuga

  “You’ll like the other one, then.” Turning, Neil showed Rick the small of his back, the very elegant spine narrowing right into it. It was a disk, done really well so it looked almost metallic, though he knew most tattoo inks really weren’t metallics, because it could cause complications, but some artists were good at faking it. Like this one.

  The disk looked bronze, and it had all sorts of little pictographs in a spiral, all the way to the middle, and it looked vaguely familiar.

  “Oh. What is it?” He knelt down, fingers sliding the pants down so he could see it better, touch, get closer. Oh, so pretty. (And didn’t Neil smell good? Oh God. Like… sex and heat and man and rain all rubbed raw together.)

  “It’s the Phaistos Disk. They found it on Crete. It’s a clay tablet. They really can’t decide what it was for. Another puzzle.”

  The pants dropped to Neil’s feet.

  “Phaistos.” Oh, more sea stuff. Greek stuff. Island merman stuff. He traced it with his fingers, with his tongue, the salt of Neil’s skin delicious.

  “Mmm.” Oh, Neil liked that, didn’t he? The rumbly noise and the not so subtle rocking of Neil’s body just gave that right away. Oh, good. Because he was down here now and a little dizzy from the taste and smell and feel of Neil. “Paddy….” Neil turned, hand sliding against his cheek. “Feels just right.”

  “Yeah?” Oh. Warm. Smooth. Good. Well, except the floors. Damn, they were cold.

  “The towels are warm.” Bending, Neil got the dryer open, got them both a towel. Oh wow. He needed one of those for his bathroom.

  He stood up, shucked his jeans, and moaned as he wrapped the hot towel around him. Oh. Cotton-based, full-body skin-gasm.

  “Exactly. We’ve been wet, so I say we skip the tub for now and go right to the bed, hmm? We can call down for room service in a bit. Coffee. Copious amounts of breakfast food at 2:00 a.m. Do you think they might make me mushrooms?”

  “You get all demanding and wanting with them, and sure? Mushroom whatever. Except pancakes. The concept of mushroom pancakes is wrong.”

  “No, just fried ones. I imagine they wouldn’t understand beans.” Neil was really good at steering him around, pulling him into the main room again and leading him to the bed, sitting on it with him and leaning right up against him, hair still wet.

  “Beans?” He reached up, playing with Neil’s short hair, petting it. “Oh. Soft.”

  “For breakfast.” The lips pressing against his jaw were even softer. Wow.

  “Like in tacos?” Oh, don’t stop. He moaned a little, shifted so they were closer.

  “No. Just regular, oh you would call them baked beans, I suppose.” One arm came up around him, the tiny hairs brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

  “Huh. I like cold lasagna for breakfast sometimes.” He could handle beans, especially if he got to straddle Neil’s thighs just like that. Uhn.

  “Yes, but how do you feel about bubble and squeak?” Long eyelashes rubbed his cheeks as Neil found his mouth, kissing him lightly.

  “Squeaking can be good. Never bubbled, that I know of.” He scooted a little closer, kissed a little deeper.

  “Oh, I can see I shall have to take you back to England to get out of the airport.” Airport? What did the airport have to do with—oh, tongue. Sliding into his mouth. Wow. Chocolate and rain. And tea. He’d so go to an airport with this man. Padraic moaned, pulling on the soft tongue, fingers holding Neil’s head.

  That was when Neil got serious, no more bubbles or beans, kissing him hard and easing him down, sort of crawling on top of him. Yum.

  It was funny, how his legs wrapped right around and fit. Funny but good and oh…. Oh. Yeah. Touch right. There. They touched everywhere, in fact, the whole wow-we’re-naked thing sort of a surprise. Neil felt good. Like the chocolate had tasted, smooth and silky. With a candy coating.

  Mmm… candy-coated Neil, although this? Worked. He took another kiss and another, just sort of floating. Yeah. Yeah, he wasn’t sure this wasn’t better than candy.

  “Yes. This works.” Pushing down against him, Neil smiled, getting them lined up just so. Those amazing hands explored him, touching him everywhere.

  “Yes. Yes, more.” He licked those smiling lips, taking Neil’s bottom lip in his teeth and tugging.

  “Mmm. I like the sting.” Yeah, Neil would like the hard along with the soft. He could tell that by the way Neil pinched his nipple before petting it, soothing it.

  “What else do you like?” He couldn’t help wiggling, hips arching so their cocks slid together.

  “I like this.” Slipping down, Neil moved up from below, cock sliding against Paddy’s balls.

  “Oh. Oh.” Oh, do it again. He’d like that cock in him, sliding deep while he moved. Oh, moving. Moving. Moving would be good. Neil did it again. And again, moving down all the way so that the head of his cock pressed against Paddy’s hole before slipping back up over balls, and finally cock. Oh. There was…. Neil wasn’t cut. Oh. Slip-slidy skin. Heat. He’d never. Oh, he wanted to see. But seeing meant no more of that hot little press and that made his toes curl and—damn. There was touching too.

  “There’s time, Paddy. We have time for all of it.” They moved together faster, all those lean muscles flexing against him.

  “Oh. Time.” His hand flattened out on Neil’s lower back, over the ink. “We do. I mean, until the insanity factor hits. Oh, that’s…. It’s just right.”

  “Yes. It is. I think… right here.” Neil grinned at him, fierce, eyes glittering, before giving him a kiss so hard he felt his lip split.

  Oh. Blood and sex and candy. Part of him wondered if that wasn’t an album name. The other 95 percent of him was shooting his brains out of his cock.

  “Oh… Paddy. Oh God.” Neil watched him, watched his face, licking the blood off his mouth before closing those amazing eyes and moving faster. A lot faster. His own come slicked the way as Neil thrust and grunted and finally came hard against him, bathing his balls.

  He whimpered, blinking up, the room a little spinny as he came down, crashing, melting. Oh. Wow. Don’t make me leave. Not yet.

  A soft rumble came from Neil, and the world spun even more until they lay side by side, Neil’s leg over his thighs, the covers pulled up. “No leaving. We need room service in perhaps an hour…. Eggs. Bread things.”

  “Uh-huh. Beans.” He chuckled softly, relieved. Exhausted. Cuddling in with a happy little snuffle.

  “Potatoes. Mushrooms.” Rhapsodizing. You had to like a guy who could really get into food. And snuggling. Like an octopus.

  “Mmm… coffee.” Later. Later. Oh, warm and yeah. Yeah.

  THREE A.M. Neil started to roll on his back to get away from those accusing little red numbers on the clock, but found himself pinned securely to the mattress.

  Ah. Paddy.

  What a lovely diversion. Frighteningly open. Utterly drunk on the chocolate and endorphins. Perfectly curious. Neil stroked the fine, pale skin of Paddy’s back. Yes, indeed. Breakfast. Perhaps with champagne. Mimosas. Oh yes.

  Slipping to one side as gently as possible, Neil reached for the phone and called and ordered a huge breakfast from the sleepy-sounding clerk.

  Paddy stretched under his hand, dreams filled with light and color and motion, laughter.

  Fascinating. Bending, he placed his ear to Paddy’s heart, listening to it beat, wondering if it went as fast as those thoughts. Steady and quick, the rhythm was addictive, soothing. Paddy hummed, shifting a little, murmuring his name. His name. It was enough to make his heart race. Neil smiled at his own folly, moving to lick at the hollow of Paddy’s throat.

  The laughter bubbled out, followed in short order by a low moan. Paddy’s fingers slipped into his hair, holding on.

  “Mmm. Breakfast is on its way.” From the throat to just under the ear, Neil licked, tasting rain and sweat. “Oddly enough, they had no beans.”

  “No?” The pleasure just rolled off Paddy. “Shame on them. No donuts. No beans. No bean d
onuts.”

  “Now that sounds revolting, sweet. You, I like.” He could make a meal of Paddy alone, the skin of his chest and shoulder addictive.

  “Your mouth is. Oh. I mean.” Those bright eyes blinked open, dancing, smiling at him. “Yeah. We are most definitely not revolting.”

  “Definitely not. Sorry if you were sleeping deep. I got munchy.” He was always hungry, but even at his decidedly nonteenager age, he never put on a pound. Neil often wondered if his gift took so much energy he burned off his calories that way.

  “I never sleep. I nap. A lot.” A puppy. Someone’d called Paddy a puppy once—bouncing and eating and humping and napping.

  This was no puppy, though. No puppy could be this brilliant at science. Or this complex. He kissed the spot right over Paddy’s heart. “Naps are good. I sleep in three, four-hour stretches myself. Why did you think I would kick you out?”

  The wave of pure, honest confusion was possibly the simplest reading he’d gotten from Padraic. “What?” Why wouldn’t I? Everyone does. Everyone. I make people tired. They always do. It’s okay. It is.

  “Before we went to sleep, you were worried.” Distracting a bit, he took a kiss, hoping for some mmm sounds.

  The swirl of thoughts shifted, just like that, warming and growing focused on him. Much better. Paddy didn’t make Neil tired at all. Just hungry. He traced Paddy’s ribs, tickling the slightest bit, breaking away two seconds before the knock at the door.

  “Food!” Paddy chuckled and made for the door, dangly bits dangling. “Tell me there’s coffee and I’m yours.”

  “There’s coffee. There’s also a robe on the wee hook by the door. Please think of the waiter’s sensibilities, Paddy.” Neil got up and wrapped a sheet around his waist, searching through his pants for a tip.

  “Oh, right. Oops.” The robe was grabbed, wrapped around Paddy’s waist. “Sorry. I’ll pay for breakfast, since you have the room and all, yeah?”

  “If you like. I had them charge it to the room. You can settle up later.” As if he wasn’t going to let the lab pay for that, as well as all his other expenses.

  “Okay. Just tell me how much. Is it still raining? It smells like ozone.”

  “I think it might be.” They moved about, tipping the bellhop, rolling the cart in where they could eat. “Oh. Bless them. They did sauté some mushrooms.”

  “They smell like ground to me, like meat, but not, you know?” Paddy took a blackberry, moaned low as he bit down.

  “I do. Portobellos especially taste almost beefy. These are just plain white, but they’ll do.” He loaded a plate. Eggs. Sausages. Potatoes. A proper fry-up.

  Paddy ate the berries, the toast, the melon, almost flitting around the table and tasting this and that.

  “More coffee?” He would most likely get in trouble with the lab boss, Beth, but Neil loved the bounce. Loved it.

  “Yes, please. Berry?” Paddy painted his lips with a strawberry, leaned in to lick them clean.

  “Mmm.” Sweet and tart. Lovely. And the Paddy chaser was the perfect accompaniment.

  “Blueberry next.” Paddy’s eyes danced, wet fingers tracing his lips.

  “Then a raspberry? You liked the raspberry.”

  “Yes.” He got a lapful of physicist, the blueberry shared between them, Paddy’s tongue playful against him.

  The room had both an oven and a microwave. If his food got cold, he could heat it. With that in mind, Neil grabbed Paddy’s bottom and squeezed, licking those bruised lips.

  “Mmm…. Raspberry. Then your mushrooms.” The raspberry was tart, sweet, smeared over his lips and Paddy’s, making them bright red.

  He laughed out loud, licking and sharing. “You’ll like them. A nice subtle flavor. Nothing too salty.”

  “Oh, good. Mushrooms. Eggs. Little bits of everything.”

  “Yes. You’re a nibbler, aren’t you?” He fed Paddy a mushroom, watching closely. Listening.

  “Mm-hmm….” Paddy bit and nuzzled his fingertips, humming over the butter, the hint of spice. There was a curiosity now about the way the savory food would taste in his mouth, a satisfied murmur that said he was happy where he was.

  A bit of toast cleared the way for a spicy cafe potato, the skin crispy and the pulp soft and creamy. He moaned a bit, sharing it. Delicious. Paddy’s kiss stole it off his tongue, a happy moan pushing into his lips.

  Food tasted so much better shared. Now a piece of creamy scrambled egg, just a hint of onion and cheese making it fluffy and sharp. Then the sausage, spicy enough to make Paddy wiggle, make the bright eyes widen.

  He’d never had a more sensual breakfast. “You delight me, sweet.”

  Paddy stretched, took a sip of coffee, and brought their lips together, sharing the hot, milky sweetness with him. That burned a little, but the milk soothed, and so did Paddy’s kiss. Neil listened in his head, the running commentary as fascinating as the physical sensations, if not as immediate.

  Everything from the chemical makeup of caffeine to the softness of his thighs to the mathematical equation to figure out the rate the coffee cooled to pure enjoyment of the kiss—it simply poured through Padraic in constant waves.

  His own pleasure started to take on a harder edge, his cock throbbing in time with his heart. He stroked the back of Paddy’s neck, searching for a grape with his other hand. Yes, that would be the perfect cool foil to the spice and heat.

  Paddy had a sweet spot there, right below the hairline, the flow of thoughts hiccupping and shattering into a hundred pieces for a split second.

  Oh. Neil went after it again, rubbing his thumb over it as he took Paddy’s mouth, tongue pushing in. They fit well together.

  Paddy gasped, grabbed his shoulders, mind off-balance and swinging wildly. It made Neil feel high, like the one time his college mates had gotten him to smoke weed. Giddy. A little out of control. Neil bent Paddy back, kissing down his throat.

  “Neil. Oh. Oh, I….” Those hands held on, squeezing, trying to stay centered.

  “I’ve got you. I promise.” He would not let Paddy fall. Not ever. The angle of their cocks changed, their balls slipping and sliding.

  “Oh. Okay. Okay.” God, that trust. Just pure and immediate and heady. Holding on tight, Neil bent enough to touch Paddy’s nipples with his tongue, licking and biting down gently.

  “Yes.” Another shattering of thought, another cry of pleasure, another shudder.

  Somehow making Paddy lose all ability to think was the sexiest thing he’d ever encountered. He left a mark above the left nipple, sucking the skin hard, abrading it with his tongue.

  Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyes.

  Pure need, pure desire, all focused on him. His cock jerked, his whole body shaking. He—they—needed to lie down. Now.

  “Need.” Padraic whimpered. “Need.”

  “I know. God, sweet, I know.” He pulled Paddy back up to lean on him. To hell with horizontal. Once Paddy was secure again, Neil grabbed their cocks, stroking them together. Paddy’s hand joined his, rubbing and pulling, eyes wide and fastened to his.

  “Yes. God, yes.” They rocked, hips moving up and down, their joined hands pushing and pulling. Wonderful.

  “Uh-huh. Neil. Neil. Now. Now.” Those shoulders rolled, Paddy’s orgasm crashing over him.

  Neil shook, his cock on fire, his whole body arching and twisting as he came. Good heavens above, this man got to him. Like no one else that he could recall.

  Paddy collapsed against him, almost asleep again, just like that. He laughed, right out loud, content to his bones. “Nap time again, hmm?”

  “Mmm.” Paddy’s fingers traced his lips, petting them.

  “Good.” They’d nap. Eat some more. And then it would be time to go back to work. More and more, Neil worried that he’d be unable to be objective.

  Later, he would decide if he needed that worry or not.

  Chapter Nine

  AH, THE open road. If a man had to be on land, he might as well be in a fast car, cruising down the highway.
Okay, so Sonny preferred back roads to interstates, but they had a job to do, and the quickest way to get there was at ninety on a major throughway.

  Precious got cranky if they deviated from schedule.

  They’d only had one run-in with the cops, which was solved by spraying shave cream on MJ’s mouth and telling those good old boys with badges that he had hoof-and-mouth disease. MJ might not forgive him for the minty freshness, but it was better than a jail cell.

  They’d been on the road twenty-four of the thirty hours it took to get to Lubbock, and Sonny was getting hungry. And itchy. “Wanna stop for grease, Precious?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I need to stretch my legs.” They were gonna have to put the windows down soon before MJ lost it. They could stop, though, have a bite, give MJ a nice blowjob….

  “Cool. Point me toward the sign that looks tasty, and we’re good to go.”

  “There’s a diner up there. Looks as good as any other.”

  “Sounds good.” Little places like that tended to be more private. They could play footsie while they planned. Sonny pulled off, swung around to a parking place, and popped the top.

  MJ sighed, relaxed some. “Yeah. Yeah. So long as it doesn’t taste like Barbasol? I’m happy.”

  “Sorry about that. But it worked, right? You see how scared they were of you?”

  MJ chuckled, blue eyes just dancing. Little shit. “Oh God. I thought that one guy was going to shit his pants.”

  “Uh-huh. They gave us an escort to the county line, for fuck’s sake.” That had just about made him bust a gut.

  “I’m surprised they didn’t call the CDC and take us both into custody.”

  “No shit. You do win some, though. You ready to eat?” The wildness had gone from MJ’s eyes. Sonny figured the man was safe for polite company.

  “Yeah. I hope they have onion rings. I have a craving.” MJ’s eyes dragged over his body, admiring a little.

  “Mmm. I like your cravings. They usually end up with me having fun. Except that one time when you wanted fish, and I got that bad flounder.” That? Had been Technicolor.