by K-lee Klein
“I thought we were supposed to relax on our days off… rest, be lazy, indulge in some calming activities. I love calming you, Dev…you and your little soldier.”
Little shit indeed. Devon growled low in his throat, his jaw dropping open when Scott knelt in front of him and mouthed his cock through his jeans. “Oh fuck, Scott. I'm trying to be grown-up and organized and shit then you gotta go and get me all…fuck that feels good. I have the whole day planned out and this…Jesus Christ! How the hell do you do that through…stop, Scott. Please.” He heard himself pathetically begging. “I don't have any other clothes with…fuck…”
His words were lost in a tangle of groans, gasps, curses and a ton of whimpers. He threaded his fingers through Scott's hair before flattening both his hands against the wall to steady the shakiness of his legs, leaning in a little closer to Scott and his fabulous mouth. Said mouth slid over the denim, back and forth, Scott's lips shaping and outlining Devon's cock perfectly. He looked up into Devon's eyes, his own dark and determined with lust but silently questioning. He pressed the heel of one hand over Devon's clothed dick, the pressure and heat sending a pulsing wave straight through it and into Devon's balls. Lord have mercy. Devon didn't have the strength to stop him.
So he consented quietly and Scott resumed his teasing. Moisture seeped through the denim, some from Scott and some from Devon, and Devon’s cock strained even more inside its denim trap. Scott concentrated on the hardened head, tongue rubbing in circles, teeth scraping lightly against the fabric before he managed to suck the tip into his mouth. Devon was so goddamn teed-up, he was sure he'd internally combust right on the spot.
“Jesus, Scott…don't do…oh fuck…I'm gonna…”
Devon's eyes rolled back, and a whine slipped long and low from his mouth. A shudder started at the base of his spine and spread quickly, threading out into every nerve in his body, tickling, zapping, electrifying. His climax ripped hard and fast through him, the confinement of his dick seemingly had no effect on the explosion of cum that drenched the inside of his jeans. Talk about the wrong day to go commando.
He tightened his grip on Scott's hair and pulled Scott in closer to his groin, trying like hell not to buck too hard against Scott's face. Scott sucked and mouthed at Devon's throbbing erection, his lips pressing firmer to Devon's jeans and the hand on Devon's ass squeezing, fingers teasing him between his legs. He dug his fingers into Devon's ass and rocked him in jerky movements back and forth against his mouth while Devon rode out his orgasm.
“Jesus, Scott,” Devon hissed when his lungs started working again. “This was supposed to be your day.”
“My day?” Scott's voice was low, wrecked. He seemed as keyed-up as Devon felt, soft breaths hissing through his teeth in between words as he fought to refill his lungs. “I don't need a day and it's not my birthday anyhow.”
Scott's forehead was pressed to Devon's thigh, the warmth of his rapid exhales scorching through the tacky fabric. He moved his head, palming across the widening wet spot on Devon's denim before licking his hand and rising to his full height again. He kissed Devon slow and sloppy, lips stuck in a cocky grin. “When was the last time you had an accident in your pants, Mr. Rockstar?”
Devon shook his head, pulling Scott close, hugging him close as his body remembered how to function normally again. He was disgustingly sticky, but he didn't care. “Besides pissing myself on stage?” Devon cracked up at the horrified look on Scott's face. “Chill. It was one time and at the end of a set and I did make it in time. But coming in my pants. That's been a while. Guess you'll be bragging about this later, right? Remember the time I made you come in your jeans like you were a horned-out teenager looking for his first lay?”
“First of all, I would never say that, at least not in those exact words or that girly tone.” Scott's lips vibrated against Devon's neck, sending those same tremors straight to his softening-but-still-interested dick. Jesus Christ when did I become a horned-out teenager again?
“And second?” Devon asked, nuzzling his nose into Scott's neck. He inhaled the scent of sweat and soap and Scott, considering some way to bottle it for times when they weren't together. Damn, he was acting like a teenager with a virgin hard-on and a crush the size of Texas. “I know you have some sort of list in your head so let me have it.”
Scott snickered and freed himself from Devon's octopus grip. The smug curve of his mouth told Devon everything he needed to know; his ill-timed coming would definitely be brought up again at a most inopportune time.
“Second. I can't believe I just made you come in your pants.” Scott burst into chuckles again. He was such a jerk. “I didn't even get to touch your nakedness.”
“Goes on your list of firsts, does it?”
“At the top of the list. Not since you were a teenager? Really?”
“Yep. Always managed to at least get my pants off first.”
“Even with all those sex groupies hanging off you?”
Devon did his best I can't believe you went there eye roll. “Already told you, I never did groupies. Although I might have if they had signs or T-shirts that said sex groupie.”
Scott's shoved Devon's shoulder but his smile felt like heaven inside Devon's heart. “Well, howdy-do,” Scott crowed. “I have felled the great rockstar, Devastation, from his top-ranking sexual prowess position.”
“Anyone ever tell you you're crazy as a fucking loon?”
“All the time but mostly you. It's why you love me, right?” Devon bit his lip so he didn't reply right away, forcing himself to enjoy the return of blush to Scott's face. “Not that you have to say it all the time or that I even expect you to say it—” Scott dipped his head with a groan.
The love stuff was still new to both of them, still a little uncomfortable and awkward, and having only admitted it once, and not seen each other for days made it even more so. Devon slid a hand into Scott's hair, tugging him closer and brushing their mouths together. “Hey. No shame or embarrassment, remember? We say it because we want to, and I do love you, and I'll say it as often as I damn well please. But your looniness definitely isn't the only reason, sweetheart.”
Scott's lips quirked into a smile against Devon's mouth. His response left Devon's heartstrings forever tugged. “Are we supposed to miss each other after only nine days, eleven hours and about twelve or thirteen minutes?” Scott whispered moving his head so his words puffed and tickled Devon's hair.
Relief flooded Devon, along with the still new car feel of being in love. “I don't know. I'm as new as you are to this L-O-V-E stuff. But things seem a little one-sided at the moment,” Devon claimed while Scott stiffened in Devon's arms. “Not the love part, sweetheart. But it seems like there's another little soldier in the room who's standing at attention.
Scott bumped his head to Devon's, smug expression taking over smug his face. “Did you seriously—”
“Oh yeah. I'm serious as a heart attack. How do you want me sweetheart?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Turned out that Scott's soldier was only at half-mast since it had already performed its marching orders, or some other weird analogy Devon couldn't quite put together in his head. Bottom line, he hadn't been the only one to come in his pants.
“I already came.” Scott blurted it out, cheeks flaming.
Devon snorted quietly. “I didn't even get to touch you,” he fake-whined while Scott cracked up. “And you just hassled the shit out of me for the whole pants thing.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Scott replied, all wide eyes and pouty angel lips. “Besides, you're the one who was in a hurry. All I did was comply with your orders.”
Devon guffawed. “Your soldier must be very well trained.”
“Of course,” Scott teased. He leaned in to steal a kiss. “I missed you, Dev.”
Devon might have melted inside but he stood tall. “You have no idea how good that feels,” he drawled, kissing the tip of Scott's nose. He wondered if he'd overstepped some invisible bo
undaries with his plans for the day. Was he even giving Scott a choice in the matter? Devon did not want to be that guy. “So? Nice start to the day, right? Seems like it might be a perfect day to stay in bed and indulge, huh? My plans can wait for another day if you'd prefer.” He simpered, two parts real and one-part hidden disappointment.
Scott pulled back with a curious expression. Devon loved how his nose wrinkled when he was thinking. He seemed to be searching Devon's eyes. “You had actual plans?”
Devon shrugged. “What? It's so hard to believe I can make a plan?” he joked. Scott didn't answer, instead buried his cold nose in the crook of Devon's neck. Devon brushed his mouth over Scott's hair. “We should get cleaned up, yeah?”
He could tell how uncomfortable Scott was. Devon may be a lot of things, but he preferred to think he was tuned in to Scott—like a favorite radio station. Plus, he knew from experience that Scott got very irritated if he couldn't clean up right away, and in this case with his dick sticking wet and crusty to the inside of his pajama pants, it seemed even more urgent. Devon knew how crazy it could make Scott and sometimes it was amusing, but today was not the day to explore those boundaries.
Devon didn't feel so comfortable in his pants either. “Should we maybe go do something about that before—”
“Oh God, yes!” Scott blurted. He tore himself away from Devon and waddled away. He looked like a bull-rider after a long ride, with his legs partially spread as he attempted to keep the mess in his pants from touching anything else. Devon was taking off his boots when he heard a hearty, “ewww”, from the bathroom.
He smothered a snicker, calling, “You okay in there. Need some help maybe?” He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the couch then thinking better of it and hanging it on the hook behind the door. Who said you couldn't teach an old dog new tricks?
By the time he hit the bathroom, Scott was already naked and standing under the spray. Devon stopped what he was doing, fingering his zipper but not undoing it. He stood and simply looked at Scott because it was a rare occurrence that Scott let him do so. Devon's boyfriend was a self-conscious guy, and though they'd been nude together a whole hell of a lot of times, he still never flaunted it in front of Devon, despite Devon being a bit of an exhibitionist.
“You're beautiful, Scott,” Devon murmured, soft, unsure if Scott would hear him over the sound of running water.
“Stop.” Obviously, there was nothing wrong with his ears. “I could use someone to wash my back though. You know anyone who might be available?”
Devon flicked the button on his jeans. “Only to wash though. Believe it or not, I did plan extra time in case you were difficult.”
“Difficult?” Scott peeked around the shower curtain. “Tell that to your little soldier. I think he'd object.”
Devon stepped into the tub behind Scott, wrapping his arms around his slippery waist. “You made him very happy. He can retire to little-soldier-land as a very happy man…penis.” He snorted into Scott's wet hair but Scott didn't join in. Instead he sighed and bumped the back of his head to Devon's forehead.
“Promise me there'll be no more soldier talk today. Please.”
“How about later?” Devon asked with a curl of his top lip. “I'm planning some more military operations by the end of the day. That okay?”
“So weird,” Scott chided before dunking his head under the spray.
Devon helped him wash his hair then Scott returned the favor. It was all perfectly innocent with the exception of a few kisses and gropes here and there. Scott looked happy and that's all Devon wanted. If nothing else turned out today, he still knew how to make please Scott . He was also proud of the way he'd kept his paws to himself, except that one time when his hand had slid a little too low when he was helping Scott get clean. His knuckles still smarted from Scott smacking him.
“I thought you were in a hurry to start whatever it is you have planned?” Devon only smiled, his eyes raking over Scott's now-naked body. Scott snarled, “Stop it, DuCaine.”
Oh, he was serious then. Scott never called Devon by his last name unless he was really trying to get his attention. “Fine. You're all warm, and pink, and clean now. Time to get out?”
They wrapped towels around their waists, and after Devon rubbed his hair until it was partially dry, he wound it into a tail at the back of his neck. Scott watched him appreciatively.
“I like when you wear it like that,” he declared, off the cuff. He'd already dried off and pulled on khakis and a soft black button-up shirt.
“Thanks. It gets in the way sometimes.”
“Looks nice down, too,” Scott added. “Good for holding and pulling.”
Devon faked a gasp, hand dramatically flying to his mouth. “I'm shocked at your attitude. What would the neighbors say?” Scott snorted and threw his wet towel at Devon, then went about cleaning up. He dragged Devon's towel right off his hips, before gathering the rest and tossed them all in the bathroom hamper, nice and neat. His soiled pajama pants joined the other laundry with a curl of Scott's nose.
“No underwear, Dev? Really?” Scott asked, holding Devon's crusty jeans between two fingers with a look of pure, but amused, disgust. “You're probably chafing the crap out of your privates.”
Devon huffed. “Would you believe they disintegrated when they got dirty? Chafey, yes. You wanna rub some lotion down there for me.”
“Not a chance. So did you actually…” Scott 's voice trailed off as he let Devon into his bedroom. “I mean, you made plans? Like actual plans? Because you know making plans is like making a list. Oh my stars, Devon DuCaine, Did you make an actual list?”
Devon smirked. Then he was kissing Scott thoroughly, indulging in the taste of Scott's mouth, his lips, his tongue. “You know I'm a businessman, right? Not just a guy who stomps and screams on stage. I have a business degree too. Bet you didn't know that, huh smarty-pants. I can plan very fucking well.”
He hadn't meant to be quite so aggressive, but Scott took it in stride. “I did not know that. Impressive, sir. I guess I must be in good hands then?” he teased.
“No worries there.” Devon pecked him on the cheek before searching for something to cover his nakedness. Unfortunately, it wasn't a clothes-optional day.
They were cleaned-up and dressed—redressed in Devon's case—in a reasonable amount of time. Luckily, he'd left a pair of jeans and some actual underwear, what a novelty, at Scott's place or he would have been walking around sticky all day. Wouldn't be the first time, not that he'd ever tell Scott, unless he really wanted to squick him. Devon tucked the thought away for later.
Devon pulled on his boots and hoodie again while Scott slipped on his shoes beside him. He didn't think anything of it when Scott leaned over towards the wall to pick something up, but then flinched and wanted to crawl inside himself when he saw what it was.
“Devon?” Scott inquired slowly, his eyes twinkling with glee. “What's a heart-shaped box of chocolates doing in my living room?”
Devon hid behind his hood as he reached down to tie his boots. He didn't know why he'd bought the damn things, and obviously getting off had scrambled his brain to the point he'd completely forgotten that he had. It didn't even matter that they were expensive, designer chocolates either. It was the damn heart box that made them appear cheap and tacky. He should have gone for flowers instead. Obviously, he was nothing more than a walking cliché.
He lifted back up with a harrumph. “Man, isn't it bad enough that you rubbed one out of me in my favorite jeans? Now you wanna rub that in, too? Valentine's Day is supposed to be sweet not vindictive.” Devon smirked but Scott wasn't looking his way until his mouth suddenly dropped open.
“What did you say? Valentine's Day? Oh, it's Valentine's Day. Shit, I had no idea.”
“February fourteen. Same time every year. How could you not know?” That was another thing he loved about Scott—the sweet honesty he couldn't seem to control. Devon would have at least claimed he knew it was Valentine's Day to sav
e face, but that sort of thing seemed to never enter Scott's mind. It was refreshing. “Haven't you seen all the cheesy heart crap everywhere?”
“Cheesy heart crap like this little box?” Scott waggled it at him.
Devon tilted his head, hoping to hide some of his embarrassment behind his hood again. He shouldn't have tied his hair back. It was always a good buffer to hide behind. Instead, he pulled his meanest face at Scott.
Unsurprisingly, his boyfriend looked even smugger. “Sorry,” Scott offered without a hint of remorse.
Devon threw up his hands. “Oh Jesus. Yeah, it's Valentine's Day and I got a dorky heart-shaped box of chocolates especially for my dorky, annoying boyfriend. Satisfied?”
Devon was caught unprepared when Scott flung himself into his arms. He wobbled dangerously to the side as Scott forcibly attached himself but somehow managed to keep them both upright.
“That's a whole lot of dork going on, but really, how would I know? It's not like anyone's given me a Valentine before, and I've never had a Valentine date or whatever you're supposed to call it… so the day has never been anything but a day.” He covered his mouth suddenly. “Oh my god. This is a Valentine's Day date, isn't it? You arranged Valentine's day for me!” He looked stunned and emotional for a minute, so Devon kissed the side of his head and dragged him against his chest.
“I'm sorry no one's spoiled you on Valentine's Day, sweetheart. Maybe I can make up for it?”
“You already have. In spades and hearts,” Scott muttered into Devon's neck. When he eased back, his cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with unshed tears, and he was beautiful. “Thank you, Devon.”
Devon tried to negate some of the awkward praise. “It's not that big a deal.”
But Scott grabbed him, cradled his face and looked his dead in the eyes. “Yes, it is. You know it is to me. I, um, thank you.”
Speechless, Devon composed himself by squeezing Scott so tight he lifted him off his feet. Scott struggled to free himself with a warm chuckle. Devon stroked his back. “You never have to thank me for doing things for you. I want…when you talk about your past, I never know whether to kiss you or cry.”