Things that Go Bump in the Night

by BA Tortuga

  He rolled a little, facing Connor, eye to eye. “Yeah? Not big in Ireland, huh? Well, anytime you want a pizza partner? You call me. I’m in.”

  “I will. I have no idea if it’s big there. I come from, um, a small town.” Up close the scars were just fascinating, like a map of the man’s life.

  “There are a lot of college kids here, so there’s small-town people too.” He reached out, petted Connor’s scars, touch light. “Do they hurt?”

  “Not anymore, no.” Those eyes told him everything, from happy to the memory of pain. He wondered if that was why Connor tended to hide them. So pretty.

  “They’re fascinating, you know? I mean, really.” He kept touching, sort of taking faith in the fact that Connor hadn’t bashed him.

  “They’re like badges, I suppose.” He felt the little laugh that huffed out at that, even as Connor leaned into his touch.

  He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, that made sense. He moved in, heart beating a hundred beats a minute. Maybe a hundred and twenty.

  One big hand cupped his head, Connor drawing him down until their lips met, making it seem so easy. As shy as the man was about everything else, in this he took the lead, humming against Adrian’s lips as they kissed.

  Oh. Oh wow.

  It was simple to cuddle over, move closer. Oh man. That strength wasn’t a tease. At all.

  Connor’s other hand settled on his waist, pulling him in, pulling him over on top of that broad, heavy body. The heat just seared him. He moaned into Connor’s lips, tongue sliding in to taste sweet and spice and heat and mmmm….

  The kiss ended gently, not quite flowing into another as Connor pulled back a little, still close enough for Adrian to see each whisker on his chin. “Is this all right?”

  “More than all right. Can we do it again?” He rubbed his nose against Connor’s, grinning.

  “We can. I thought I should ask.” Connor licked his lips before kissing him again, tongue pushing at him a little, gentle and good.

  It was fascinating, the way the kisses slowly built up, moving from warm to almost hot.

  Then there was no almost about it as Connor’s legs fell open so he could slip between, Connor’s hardness pressing against him as the kiss went unbearably deep. He moaned, hips rocking a little, both of them finding a rhythm.

  “Mmmm.” A low growl, throaty and dark, escaped Connor’s mouth. It vibrated right through him, rumbling in Connor’s chest.

  Oh, he liked that. He flattened his hands against Connor’s belly, exploring the ripped muscles, hoping to get more sounds. He liked that a lot.

  He got them. There was no purring, just this deep bass sound along with the movement of Connor’s body as he arched up into Adrian’s touch.

  “You feel so good.” He eased down, fingers digging in, massaging. Connor smelled like… pizza. It made him grin. “You’re so strong.”

  “I like your mouth.” Connor smiled against his lips, loving on him. It was sweet. So sweet.

  “Good.” He chuckled. “I’ve never just picked someone up before. Honest. I usually do at least a date or two.”

  “Oh.” Blinking, Connor stroked his back, hips still rolling up against his. “I have not dated much. But I promise I have not been loose.”

  “Well, then, we’re both not sluts, just incredibly attracted to each other and lucky.” He nipped Connor’s lips, tugging just a little.

  Laughing, Connor nodded, licking at him, teasing right back. “We are, I’d say. Lucky indeed.”

  He managed to slip his hands under Connor’s sweater, groaning low as he found skin.

  “Mmm. Oh, that’s a bit of right.” Pushing at him, Connor rose up just enough, baring a wide, furred chest covered in more scars, some faint and white, some still pink. Adrian bent down, tongue sliding along one scar, then another. Fascinating. The hair teased his tongue, irritated him. It must have tickled Connor too, the way they rocked as Connor laughed and curled up. “I thought they might disgust you.”

  “Shows you’re strong. They’re fascinating. And you taste good.” He nuzzled Connor’s belly, lips nipping and tickling.

  Connor gasped, muscles rippling as he sucked his belly in. “Oh. Oh heavens. You…. Your mouth. Adrian.”

  “Mm-hmm. Have great hands too. Years of practice, you know?”

  “Years of… oh. Music.” Another chuckle came before Connor started struggling with Adrian’s shirt, trying to get him bare as well.

  “Uh-huh. Music.” He lifted his arms, knowing he wasn’t as studly as Connor, but some guys liked long and lean. Maybe lots of guys.

  “Pretty.” Connor stared, looking utterly taken with him, those eyes almost black.

  Heat flushed through him, and he arched, almost dancing under Connor’s gaze. “Better than a toothless trucker?”

  “Much, much better. There was this old… man, in Ireland, who had lost all his teeth in fights. Not attractive at all.”

  “You have strong teeth. Strong everything.” He stroked Connor’s belly again. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

  “You’re the first man to say so.” Long fingers tugged at his pants, worrying the button. “I would see all of you.”

  “You have to show me yours too.” He sucked in, let Connor work his fly open, his cock pushing out like anything.

  “Uh-huh.” Connor was staring, though, reaching down to touch, thumb rubbing over the head of his cock. “Soft.”

  “Hard.” His laugh was all mixed in with a groan and a shudder. “Feels good. You have great hands.”

  “Mine, yours. They’re all good.” Connor took another kiss before moving his hips back to struggle with his own jeans, getting them undone. Oh. Talk about hard. And uncut.

  “Oh….” He bent down, cheek sliding on Connor’s shaft, caressing, inhaling deep to fill his lungs with that scent.

  A deep moan was his answer for that, Connor’s hands cupping his head. “Adrian. I’ve not… I’m not sure I can.”

  “Can what?” He nuzzled again, lips on the soft dark curls.

  “Hold off. It’s been a long while.” He could tell that in the way Connor’s cock jumped, leaked.

  “Oh. That’s okay. I’m not in a hurry to push you out.” He started stroking, petting that pretty cock while he moved his lips up toward Connor’s nipple.

  “Uh. Good.” Connor moved against him, starting to pant. “Because I, oh, could get used to this.”

  “Okay.” He wrapped his lips around Connor’s nipple, sucking firmly, tugging nipple and cock in time.

  The tension coiled in Connor’s body, the muscles under his thighs and hands and belly stiffening, Connor’s cock twitching. “Yes. Oh yes.”

  Yeah. Man, it felt good to know he was making Connor make those sounds, that he was making Connor need. Pushing into his hand over and over, Connor growled, rumbled, just made a whole new kind of music for him. Chest hair rasped his cheek, rough thighs cradled him, and the scent… pure animal. He bit down, just a little, enough to make it sting, thumb working the tip of Connor’s cock, pressing into the slit. Every muscle in that big body went hard, vibrating, come splashing over his fingers, and Connor cried out, the sound surprised, shocked.

  “Oh. Oh, you smell so good.” He just rubbed, humming low, cock sliding and slipping against one strong thigh. So fucking good.

  “So do you….” Moaning, Connor turned them so they were on their sides, face-to-face, so Connor’s big hands could grab at him, could pull his cock, even as those lips found his throat.

  Everything in him was humming and buzzing, so perfect. Adrian arched, moving frantically between hand and mouth, his cries just ringing out. His blood rose, stinging beneath Connor’s lips; that was gonna leave a mark for sure. That hand. God, it was huge, cradling his cock, stroking faster and faster.

  “Good. So good.” He wasn’t anything close to a quiet lover, pleas and cries rising up and up as his hips pumped faster.

  “Yes. Oh, you smell…. Hot. Good. Your skin…. Adrian.” Those sharp teeth tested him, but only jus
t, nowhere close to breaking the skin.

  The sting made him gasp, push closer. “Connor. I…. Oh. Oh wow.”

  His orgasm slammed through him, his head snapping back, body tight as a bowstring.

  “Yes. Oh yes, sweet. Like that.” Those eyes watched him, Connor petting and pulling, kissing his cheeks, his chin.

  He melted down against Connor, shivering as the aftershocks moved through him. “Oh. Man. Thank you….”

  “Mmmm. Thank you, Adrian. For everything. Can I sleep here? With you?” They were already sort of… snuggling down, their come rubbing between their skin.

  “Mm-hmm. Absolutely. We’ll make bacon and eggs for breakfast. It’ll be cool.” He reached out, tugged an afghan off the end of the bed. If Connor was a serial axe murderer, he was a monkey’s uncle. “You can make us tea.”

  “I can. And I can wash your back when we bathe. I’m very good at that.” Connor sounded so pleased, curling around him, nose buried in his hair.

  Adrian nodded, humming along to three or four bars of the recorder suite of the Suite in A Minor before he dozed off, warm and cozy as hell.

  WARM. SOFT pillows beneath him, a warm body wrapped about him. Connor had not felt the like since he was a lad. He thought perhaps he dreamed, like a pup running after hares in his sleep. But the body against his was, while not heavy, solid and hot and distinctly smelled of Connor’s mark, his come.

  Blinking, he opened his eyes. Adrian. Oh. Sweet boy. No, not a boy. A man.

  Connor watched as Adrian breathed deep and even, admiring the long sweep of lashes.

  Adrian’s hand moved on his skin, even in sleep, petting him, stroking him. It was… fascinating.

  He shifted under it, wanting to lick Adrian all over. Hmm. Not such a bad idea, that.

  “Mmm….” Adrian stretched, cheek rubbing against him, dark hair silky and slick. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” His belly rumbled, making him decide the licking ought to wait until he’d eaten or he might gnaw a bit on Adrian.

  He got a chuckle, Adrian’s lips brushing his nipple. “Somebody’s hungry. You like bacon and eggs?”

  “Oh yes.” He could just see the thick, pink slab of bacon and a nice pair of fried-up eggs. “Potatoes?”

  “I got hash browns from Ore-Ida.” Adrian pushed up, kissed the tip of his nose. “You have tea and toast duty.”

  “I can do that.” He could. He could make tea, and toast he vaguely remembered. Connor grabbed Adrian back to him, kissing him hard. “Lovely.”

  “Mmm…. You are. I liked waking up with you.” Adrian stood, stretched up tall. Oh, pretty. Long and lean and… pretty. “You want some sweatpants to wear? Something cozy?”

  “Yes, that would be nice. I have my sweater, but some soft pants….” He would like that. Connor got up, wondering where the head was. He’d learned about those on the ship.

  “I’ve got some stuff that’ll fit. If you need to clean up, the bathroom’s in there.” A pile of soft, warm black fleece was pushed into his hands, another kiss pressed to his mouth.

  “Thank you.” Well, that answered that question. Connor took his time, watching the faucet as he turned it on and off. Hot and cold water.

  He could hear music and singing and banging in the other room. The sounds were happy and bright; they made him smile to hear them, made him bounce a little.

  Of course, the smells that started a bit later did more than make him smile.

  Something… oh. Something sharp and crisp and a little acrid, but something that made his mouth water. Connor finished washing Adrian’s come off his belly before pulling on his sweater and brushing his teeth with his finger.

  Then he went in search of Adrian and that smell.

  Adrian was in front of the stove, something sizzling and bubbling, the kettle and a loaf of bread waiting for him. Adrian’s ass wiggled a little, back and forth in time with the music. Oh God. Out here it smelled better.

  Drooling, he walked over and peered over Adrian’s shoulder. “What is that?”

  “Bacon. I made a whole package because it just looked so good. The hash browns are going too. I know how to fry eggs and scramble them. What kind do you like?”

  “I like fried. With the yolks hard.” He didn’t really know any other way. “That smells.… Oh. Good.”

  “Cool. I can do that.” He got a wink, a grin. “In fact, half the time when I make fried eggs the yolks are cooked through, so it’ll make me look like a better cook, huh? What do you need for the tea, and do you make toast in the oven or toaster?”

  “I…. Oven. And the kettle is on? Where is the tea?” Stop staring at the bacon that wasn’t bacon, you fool, and move.

  “The tea is in that pantry there, and I’ll fill the kettle up. I rinsed it out.” Adrian pulled four pieces of the not-bacon out, patted it dry before holding a piece up. “Want one?”

  “Yes?” He took it, carefully because it was hot, and put it in his mouth. It crunched between his teeth, the flavor exploding on his tongue. Connor closed his eyes, humming. “Oh. Oh, good.”

  “You know it. We have a whole pound to share too. Bacon is like… just the best for breakfast.”

  He nodded, struck mute. It was all he could do not to sit up and beg. Instead, he went to find tea, licking his lips over and over.

  The door Adrian pointed him to hid a cabinet that was full—completely full—with fascinating bottles and boxes and bags. Tins and containers and bins. All food.

  All.

  Food.

  “The tea’s on the second shelf from the top.”

  Such pretty colors. There were boxes and bags and there were bottles of liquid in colors like the rainbow. He finally found tea, labeled for breakfast, in little bags. He could work with that.

  Adrian moved around, grabbing this and that, popping first a bite of crispy shredded potato in his mouth, then another bite of bacon. “Here’s the kettle. I’ll help with the toast.”

  “Oh, I can do it.” He shook it off, slicing thick pieces of bread to toast, looking at the oven. It was on, bless Adrian.

  “I have butter. Do you want jelly or anything?” Adrian settled behind him, hands rubbing his back through the sweater.

  “I like jam.” He remembered jam, preserves that his mother made with fruit. Or he thought he did. The kettle boiled, and he grabbed the little pot he’d found in the pantry instead of the two mugs Adrian had laid out, dropping four bags in.

  “Is jam and jelly the same thing? I have sweet strawberry stuff and grape stuff.” Adrian peeked over his shoulder for a second, then went back to the bacon.

  “That sounds fine.” The variety astounded him. The cages seemed so distant. The bacon smell drew him, and Connor drifted back to the drying pieces as the toast browned and the tea steeped.

  “You want another bite?” Adrian grinned, bumped their hips together. “Go for it. I haven’t burned any.”

  “Okay.” He took a piece and munched, humming. That was even better than the marinara. And Adrian had cooked it for him. For them to share. He sniffed, wheeling to pull the toast out before it burned. In fact, it came out perfectly. “The tea should be done too.”

  “Cool! I have eggs and hash browns. We? Have a breakfast!”

  Adrian put plates and glasses and a gallon of milk on the table, along with jars of jelly.

  Remembering long-forgotten table manners came hard, especially when his first contact with the outside world in… years had been rough sailors. But Connor tried to be polite.

  Adrian sat across from him, all smiles. “Don’t be shy. There’s tons. Tell me how to drink my tea? Sugar? Milk?”

  “Here, hand me your cup.” Connor made up a cup of tea for Adrian, thick with milk, just a bit of sugar. He didn’t like it too sweet. Perhaps Americans liked it sweeter, but he would try. Then he took some eggs. And some bacon.

  “Try some potatoes too. They so rock.” Adrian drank deep, tilting his head a little. “It’s different. It’s not coffee, but it’s not bad.”


  “You like it?” He liked the potatoes. And the toast, thick with butter and smeared with strawberry jam. A man could live like this. He really could.

  “Yeah.” They split the food up, Adrian giving him the lion’s share of the bacon and stealing the extra piece of toast. The whole time, music filled the room.

  He liked the music. He liked that Adrian hummed happily as they ate, feeling the music. It made him feel safe, secure. “You have a good home, Adrian.”

  “Yeah? I like it. I have a nice view, the rent’s not too bad, and I can walk to most of my gigs.”

  “Not just for that. The music. The bacon… I like it.” The meal lay in ruins on the table, only tiny scraps left that Connor picked up with the tip of his fingers and ate. “Good.”

  “Cool.” Adrian scooted over, straddled his thighs, and bent down for a kiss. “Last night wasn’t bad either, huh?”

  “Last night was very, very good.” And not just because of the red sauce. His hands settled on Adrian’s hips as he took another kiss, moaning a little into it. No one had ever…. Well, he’d not ever had time to explore, had he? Furtive couplings in the dark when the need came on them. Adrian was different.

  Adrian didn’t seem to be in any hurry either, fingers stroking his shoulders and neck, one kiss turning into another into another.

  He pushed at the soft fleece shirt Adrian wore, wanting to feel the smooth skin of his chest and belly again, wanting to see the sweet, tiny nipples and the obvious ribs. The bumps of Adrian’s spine fascinated his fingers.

  “Mmm…. You taste good.” Adrian leaned back, let him pull the shirt up and off.

  “So do you. And you smell good.” Like bacon, but also like male need, just as he’d scented the night before. Connor nuzzled right against Adrian’s underarm, breathing deep.

  Adrian hummed, shivering a little. “Not too stinky? I can take a quick shower, if I’m gross.”

  “No. You smell like me. You and me, together. And bacon.” He grinned, listening to Adrian chuckle. He bit a little at the soft part of Adrian’s inner arm.

  “Toothy!” Adrian jumped, laughing now, that flat belly moving against him.