by Amy Lane
Dex walked up to him, put his hand on the back of his neck and bent down and kissed his cheek. “Where’s Ethan?” he asked, because usually Ethan was in his room playing video games or reading if he wasn’t out with Kane.
“He’s at the pet store,” Kane said, looking perplexed. “There’s some guy there that works for Tommy—I guess Ethan just goes there to say hi. It’s… it’s weird. It’s like he’s… stalking the guy, but not in a creepy way.”
“Courting,” Dex said, because Ethan had told him this too. “It’s called courting. It’s when you try to get to know someone before you get them to commit to anything serious.”
Kane stretched and wrinkled his nose. “Well, that’s stupid, because it has nothin’ to do with fuckin’ lawyers, and I think he’s pretty damned serious as it is! He hasn’t hooked up with anyone since before Christmas, and you know how that guy needs to be pet!”
Dex laughed and dropped his stuff in the corner. “Yeah, I hear ya. I think it’s sweet.” Before Kane could give his opinion on the sweetness or the idiocy of Ethan’s approach, Dex asked, “Have you eaten yet?” and Kane looked up from his book and gave sort of a dreamy smile.
“No,” he murmured. “I haven’t. But just the fact that you’d ask that makes me a very happy person.”
Dex laughed a little and turned on the kitchen light and then the living room light just for comfort. He started pulling out stuff from the refrigerator for basic pasta and salad. “How was your day?” he asked, and Kane started to tell him—and suddenly Dex’s day seemed better.
“So I walked into these classrooms, right, and I kept scoping out the place in the back, but you know what? There I am in the back, and suddenly I realize, I actually wanna ask a fuckin’ question, and I’m thinking that maybe next time? Next time I sit in the front so I don’t feel stupid flagging the teacher down like you’re directing an airplane, whattya think?”
Dex laughed a little. “I like that trick too,” he said, because he’d staked out the places in the front right away. But then, he’d had more experience at this. “So, reading?”
Kane stood up and started clearing his books from the table. “Reading’s not as bad as I thought. For one thing, I did what you said and went and talked to my professors after class. The two profs not running the reading class were real good—they gave me handouts and shit and told me that if I take notes during the lectures, the reading would be easier. The reading class was pretty awesome, really,” Kane said, thunking his books down in a pile by his backpack in the corner next to Dex’s. Hell, there wasn’t anything else in that corner, right? “It was like… I dunno. I felt like I was learning something, ’cause I’m already better at reading that book on primates than I was when I started. I dunno, Dexter. I might not be as stupid as I was thinking.”
Dex turned away from adding spices to the sauce from the jar and grinned. “God. It was seriously worth all this fucking hassle just to hear you say that. You have no idea.”
Kane’s smile back made his dimples pop, and then he thought of something and his smile dimmed. “I, uhm….” He walked back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter—out of Dex’s way, but close enough to make the conversation easier. “I, uhm, called my sister and told her that I was in school.”
Dex turned from getting some prepackaged ravioli out of the refrigerator. He and Kane had been shopping together a lot and had started buying the stuff they really liked, because it meant they’d eat out less. He set the package down on the counter while the water boiled, and turned to give Kane his full attention.
“Yeah?” God. Kane’s sister. It was different, maybe, being exiled from a sister and a niece instead of a whole family. A sister and a niece maybe felt more personal.
“Yeah,” Kane said, looking down at his feet. “She… she said that I’m still gay, so it doesn’t count.”
Dex sighed. “What the hell kind of logic is that? You’re gay so it doesn’t count? Is that like, your money doesn’t count as support ’cause you got it from porn? I’m not buying this shit, dammit! You’re a good fucking person!”
Suddenly Kane lit up. “And I’m a good person fucking, right?”
Dex snickered, because he knew it would make Kane feel better, and turned to lower the heat on the sauce. “C’mere,” he said gently, and Kane did, stepping between his knees as he leaned back against the counter. Dex reached around and squeezed that delicious bubble butt with both hands and closed his eyes to touch Kane’s parted lips.
Mmm. God. How had he walked the planet for twenty-eight years and not known that was what he wanted to come home to?
“Your birthday’s in what? February?” he asked, and Kane nodded.
“Yeah. The eighteenth.”
“We should go out and celebrate. You won’t be embarrassingly young anymore, and I won’t feel like a pervert.”
Kane smiled, and it was still sad, but it was a good try. “You’re still a pervert,” he said softly.
“Yeah? What makes me more perverted than you?”
“You like my squishy ass!”
Dex laughed low, massaged it some more, and kissed him a little harder this time. “Yeah?” he asked. “Maybe tonight I’ll make your squishy ass mine, you think?”
Kane’s body went limp into his, and he knew that had been the right thing, right there. Sometimes a guy just wanted to be taken care of, didn’t he?
They did normal things. They ate, and Dex had brought wine because sometimes when you were eating a dinner you fixed at home, wine tasted good and made you feel like the effort not to eat over the sink was worth it. They rinsed off the dishes and left a covered bowl for Ethan in the fridge, then went to the couch to watch television. Kane got Tomas out, and the snake coiled around his arm while Kane leaned on Dex’s chest. Together they watched Dancing With the Stars, and Kane called in for his favorite couple. When they won, Dex could tell Kane was proud, like his vote counted.
That night, after the snake was safely in his new enclosure and Kane had washed up, they crawled into bed with the lights off, and Dex found Kane’s mouth in the dark. Every touch seemed to whisper then; the pad of a questing finger on the plane of Dex’s hip was as delicate and shimmering and magical as any of the raw erotic things either of them had done on screen. Dex kissed a line from between Kane’s pectorals down to his belly button, pausing often to nip the soft skin of his stomach. Every gasp Kane made rang as loudly in Dex’s ears as the requisite “Fuck me!” they tended to scream on the set, and when he engulfed Kane’s cock in his mouth, keeping his lips loose so he could tease the underside of the head with his tongue, Kane traced the whorl of his ear with a teasing thumb, and it made Dex shiver.
When the time came and Kane could either come in his mouth or wait for Dex to come in his delectable, squishy bubble butt, Kane did a surprising thing and pulled Dex up by the armpits and kissed him. Dex kissed him back, and the kiss went on and on while the two of them ground up against each other’s thighs like kids who’d never had sex before and didn’t know what went where.
That’s how they came, Kane first, when he thrust in the crease of Dex’s thigh. His come felt good, so good, spattering between them, hot and thick. Dex’s cock slid in it, and the contrast and the touch and Kane’s teeth nibbling at his ear and his fingers pinching gently at his nipples all felt so good that Dex gasped and came. He came slowly, convulsing on top of Kane in painful waves while Kane wrapped his arms around Dex’s shoulders and they shivered together in time.
When they were done, Dex made a move to go get the washcloth, and Kane stopped him.
“No,” he said, and his voice shook a little, so Dex stayed. They’d be glued together the next morning, Kane with his nose buried in Dex’s throat, Dex with his arm around Kane’s shoulders, and both of them stiff from not moving at all, because even in the dark, when their bodies should have been limp and seeking comfort, they sought out each other instead.
The next day was the start of the three-day abstinence before
Kane’s scene with Scott, and Dex would have worn Kane’s come on his skin for the whole three days if he could have found a way to do it.
“I TOLD you,” Dex said patiently—and sotto voce—to Kane, “I’m going to see you. This is both of us.”
Kane looked behind them to where Scott was staring at Dex, his hand down his pants, an evil smile on his face.
“God,” Dex said without waiting for an answer, “I can’t believe I thought I loved him. Are you sure you want to stay with me? I’m obviously too stupid to be worth it!”
Kane scowled at him. “Yeah, I say something like that, I get a fucking pillow to the head!”
Dex narrowed his eyes back. “That’s because you’re not stupid.”
“Neither are you.” Kane glowered right back at him, and for a minute, they almost had that little bubble, the one where they were the only two people in it, and the only two people who got each other, and the only two people who mattered. Then Scott spoke up and popped the damned thing and left Dex with nothing but the raw urge to beat his face in.
“You’re both stupid!” Scott said, smirking. “Jesus, you guys. It’s sex. We’re whores, it’s sex, and Dex, you’d better get over it, because in about ten minutes, your boyfriend is gonna be pounding the snot out of me!”
Kane looked at him levelly. “Jerkoff, you know what? That part about it just being sex? That could be the only smart thing you’ve said in your entire life.” He turned back toward Dex and whispered, “And I’m gonna make him regret every fucking word.”
Dex shook his head again and ignored Scott for a moment, his attention completely on Kane. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret—I mean it. For that matter, you can still back out.”
Kane looked over his shoulder at Scott again and smiled so unpleasantly that Scott actually stopped stroking himself. “We’re sorta committed, Dexter. Don’t….” He swallowed and didn’t finish the “don’t worry” that was probably about to come out of his mouth. “Don’t forget to give me my ring back,” he said instead, and Dex held out his hand for it. Kane pressed it into his palm, and then Dex grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him and for a kiss before he rested their foreheads together.
“What’d I tell you about the ring,” he said quietly.
“You’ll tell me if you want me not to wear it.”
“I promise I’ll give it back.”
Kane nodded. “Okay. Now I want you to start rolling when he sits on the bed, right?”
Dex nodded. “Will do. It’s your show.”
It was a basic bedroom—sturdy wooden bed, easy-wash plain cotton comforter in beige, white walls, blue carpet, a window with mock shutters and a view into the courtyard, a dresser, and a closet door with a vanity mirror on the inside. The door was kept open so the models could watch themselves having sex if they wanted to, and there was a spot on the floor that Dex had marked with tape so the cameraman could stand right on that spot and not get caught in the mirror if they were filming that.
But that was a sort of playful thing, something guys did when they were having fun. As Dex had started bulking up for his shots, he’d enjoyed preening in front of the mirror, and so had Kane. (Kane was, in fact, known for being a bit vain. Dex had to ask him to stop fixing his hair when he was hammering some guy in front of the mirror once, and Kane hadn’t been the least bit repentant.)
Dex hadn’t thought the mirror was going to get any use today—but he was wrong.
Kane walked into the camera’s range and looked at him and gave the nod. Dex said, “Scott, we’re filming in five, four, three—” and as he was pointing his fingers for two and one, Scott had just enough time to get his hand out of his pants and look at Kane with appreciation.
Kane stood up and without preamble took off his clothes. He stood for a moment right in front of the camera, semierect and magnificent, his arms and chest massive with muscle, every group defined and sleek, and his porn face on. He didn’t smile a lot during sex on camera, didn’t laugh, didn’t look tender or vulnerable. In fact—and Dex had almost forgotten this—he tended to scowl and look like a guy you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley unless you wanted your ass fucked raw.
So he stood there, imposing and scowling and beautiful, and he turned that sexual dominator’s face at Scott.
“Strip,” he said, and Scott’s eyes widened. He had a grin—sort of a trademark smirk on his oval face—and he tried it on Kane now.
“That’s it? No foreplay, no—”
“Strip,” Kane repeated, not flinching, and Dex saw it. He watched Scott capitulate. That easily, Scott gave his power to Kane and stood and stripped off his pants and his shirt.
“Anything you say,” he shot back flirtatiously, and Kane nodded, then looked directly at the camera.
“You heard that, right? This is his choice. Whatever we do here, he’s chosen to do this.”
Scott rolled his eyes at the camera behind Kane, and then Kane strode to him and planted his hand in the middle of Scott’s much narrower chest and pushed back. Scott went flat on the bed and lay there, dreamy eyed, and looked up at Kane like he was expecting the scene to begin.
Dex felt something cold start in the pit of his stomach. Yeah, this was the scene, and it was beginning, but probably not the way Scott had envisioned it when he’d come up with this.
“Grab it,” Kane said without passion. “Grab it and stroke it.”
Scott had artistically long-fingered hands. When they’d been dating, Dex had thought of them as sensitive and had always used to marvel at how good they looked on a wineglass or curled around Dex’s cock. Now they just seemed spidery and creepy, and when Scott wrapped them around his long, slender cock, Dex realized with a shock that Scott’s own touch had always been the only touch Scott had ever craved.
His head tilted back and his long neck was exposed as he closed his eyes and started making nummy-nummy porn sex noises, and in that moment, Dex had a sucker-punch of dislike both for this business and for himself that he’d never, not in almost nine years, felt before. Oh God… Kane couldn’t. Kane couldn’t touch him, Kane just—
“Good,” Kane said, looking down at Scott with contempt on his face. “Good little ass-slut. Awesome. Now spread your legs.”
Scott reached behind his ass and spread his cheeks, exposing his hole, puckered and pink and bare of any sort of hair at all. Kane dumped some lube on his fingers and, without massaging or teasing, simply thrust his first finger in.
Scott groaned and started to beg. “God, kiss me! Kiss me! Jesus, Kane, touch my cock! Please, please, Jesus, won’t you fuck me?”
In response, Kane dumped lubricant on the other finger and slowly thrust it in. “Keep stroking,” he commanded, and Scott’s noises got deeper, more frantic and more desperate, his body thrashing around as he begged the guy with two fingers in his asshole to do more than just stimulate the nerves in his hole.
Dex shivered, watching him. Kane’s face was cold, remote, and hard. He had one hand at his side and the other one was thrusting slowly back and forth into Scott’s ass.
Four months Dex and Kane had been having sex. They’d had hot and dirty sex and hot and kinky sex. They’d had it slow and sensual and they’d had it magical, where every touch was bigger than every breath somehow, where it felt like the stars chimed with perfection.
Not once had Kane touched Dex with this much contempt and this little intention, and half of Dex was appalled, just like Kane said he would be.
The other half was thrilled.
God, he was magnificent.
And on top of everything, on top of Scott’s increasingly frantic begging, his hard self-stimulation, and Kane’s brutally cold finger-fucking, Kane had an enormous, thick purple erection.
And Dex suddenly wanted it. In that moment, he craved everything Scott was craving, but the difference—the one pure difference—was that Dex knew that he would get it.
He’d set the tripod up behind him, thinking he’d set the camera down and go for s
ome secondary shots with the other camera set up over there. Without interrupting the shoot, he pulled the tripod up and put it right where he was. Then he grabbed the other camera and set it up on the dresser, coming in from another angle, pretty sure he knew where it was pointing.
While Kane was engaged, stone-faced, in finger-fucking Scott, Dex tucked both rings in the pocket of his jeans and started taking off his clothes.
Scott suddenly yelped, then yelped again, and when Dex looked, Kane had three fingers in Scott’s ass and was flexing them.
“Keep beating off,” he growled, and Scott yelped again while Kane just kept hitting his prostate. Finally, after maybe five minutes of stroking, Scott’s hand started to fly on his cock, and Kane watched dispassionately as he came all over his stomach.
Kane pulled his fingers out of Scott’s ass and wiped them on the towel that was near the lube on top of the bed. He turned toward Dex then and stopped, mouth open. For the first time since the scene started, his face registered emotion.
Dex was naked on his knees not three feet from where Kane was standing. He was looking up at Kane imploringly.
“Please,” he said softly, and Kane closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” he conceded. He took two steps and stood proudly while Dex put his mouth on Kane’s cock.
He tasted like Kane, and Dex didn’t mind at all. This was his Kane, the man who cried over lizards and who sounded out words so he could study snakes and bugs. This was Kane, who watched Dancing With the Stars, and Kane who played Scrabble with Ethan, and Kane who gave Dex a shoulder rub when Dex got home in the not so forlorn hope that Dex would put out.
This was Kane, whom Dex loved more than he could possibly fathom and whom Dex was not going to leave to do the dirty things all by himself.
“Oh God,” Kane groaned, his fingers tangling in Dex’s hair. “Oh God, Dexter. I’m… I’m there… I’m there… I’m fuckin’ coming, I’m so there….”
And he was coming, and Dex swallowed the first spurt and then pulled out and closed his eyes and let the camera capture the classic porn come shot, all over his face and chest, while he jerked Kane’s cock to completion. Kane convulsed and groaned, and Dex sat up completely and wrapped his arms around Kane’s hips and rested his come-covered face against Kane’s ripple-muscled, soft-skinned tummy. Kane held him there, just held him, until their breathing evened out and they could say the scene was done.