Things that Go Bump in the Night

by BA Tortuga

  “Mmm. Yes.” He didn’t want to be too toothy, didn’t want to scare Adrian. He would, if he got too wrapped up. Connor backed off, took a slow kiss.

  The long body melted against him, close and warm, cuddling in while happy sounds pushed into his mouth. He stroked Adrian’s back, licking those sweet, jam-stained lips, his stubbly chin abrading Adrian’s face. Adrian chuckled, chasing his tongue, playing with him, encouraging him to play right back.

  He liked to play. He remembered play. Oh, how good it felt. Connor pulled away just long enough to shove his sweater off over his head.

  “Oooh. Open belly!” Adrian laughed, fingers reaching for his belly, tickling a little, making him squirm.

  Chuckling, Connor wiggled, nearly unseating Adrian. The chair creaked beneath them. “Gracious! We should move to the….” He flapped a hand. “The nest.”

  “I like that!” Adrian nodded, standing up, hands held out to him. “Play first, dishes later!”

  “I’ll wash them. I promise.” He might lick them when Adrian wasn’t watching. Connor rose, taking that long-fingered hand, smiling and pulling Adrian into a bit of a reel.

  Adrian could dance! They danced through the house, both of them laughing and kissing as they headed for their little nest.

  They tumbled down, Connor on the bottom, sort of shaking the floor. “Do you think we disturbed your neighbors?”

  “Dance school downstairs. We’re good.” Adrian started tickling again, fingers quick and sure, maddening.

  “Oh?” That would be lovely, to have a whole dancing area for them to waltz. He would bet Adrian could waltz. Finally the tickling registered as Adrian hit a spot, and he all but howled.

  “Mmm… that’s a great sound.” Adrian pounced a little, lips hitting that spot, teeth stinging.

  Connor chortled, rolled side to side, hands flailing. “Oh. Oh, stop. Please.”

  “Really stop? Or keep going stop?” Adrian’s hair was tousled, surrounding his face like a mane.

  When had he last laughed so? He chuckled and pulled Adrian to him, pinning those long arms. “I might hurt something.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Adrian nuzzled his throat, lips soft, warm, no teeth.

  “No. I still have many kisses to share with you, sweet.” He kissed Adrian, just to make his point, his tongue slipping in.

  Those pretty lips opened up, tongue against his, letting him in to taste, to feel. Those hands traveled down his back, fingers stroking lazy circles. Hot and good, and Connor lost himself in it. He pulled Adrian atop him, cupping the tight, muscled bottom.

  “Mmm. You feel good. Are you always so warm?” Adrian’s lips met his, over and over, those eyes so big, so focused on him.

  “I am.” He was. The owner said that was part of why he healed so quick, the unnatural energy he produced. Shoving at Adrian’s pants, he bared his lover, hands squeezing.

  “Good. I’m always chilly, so you feel amazing.” It was stunning how Adrian’s hips rocked, pushing that ass into his hands.

  Through his borrowed pants, he could feel Adrian’s cock, his own rising to meet it, tugging at the fleece. His nipples went tight as Adrian touched them, a low moan sliding out of his chest.

  “That’s…. Adrian. Yes.”

  “Uh-huh.” Adrian stroked, drawing his flesh up to a tight point, the pleasure surprisingly intense, sharp.

  His whole body bucked and shook. This was nothing like hands and knees on a dirty floor. Connor reached between them, groping for Adrian’s cock. He wanted to feel it again, feel that velvet skin.

  Hot and full, Adrian’s cock was wet-tipped and leaking, pushing right into his touch, stroking his palm.

  Connor growled, loving the feel of it, the heft of it. What a wonderful man Adrian was, so eager, so hot for him.

  “Oh. You have…. You have the best hands. Really.” Adrian grinned at him, eyes just huge. “Don’t stop.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” As if he could now, with them riding the pleasure this way, with the need on him so hard that he thought it might actually hurt.

  His thank-you was in the form of a long, deep kiss, tongue pushing and sliding against his, making him jerk up, rub. Tightening his grip, Connor pulled, urging Adrian on, letting the man ride his hand. So beautiful.

  Music filled the air, his mouth, Adrian shifting, hands moving down his belly. His muscles trembled, his belly pulling in, his nipples stiffening even more. Connor thought his cock might burst. “Adrian….”

  “Uh-huh. I want to suck you, you know? You smell so good. You gotta taste good….”

  “Yes. Yes, please.” The thought of that sweet mouth around him, making a whole new music, had him arching, crying out.

  Fingers wrapped around his cock, tugged even as heat sprayed against his hand. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, Connor.”

  He held Adrian close, watching the look in his eyes as Adrian came, raising his other hand to his lips to lick it clean.

  “Uhn.” Adrian’s eyes seemed to get even darker, focused on his mouth. Then the lean body moved down, lips following the line of hair along his belly button.

  God almighty. That had to be against all sorts of laws. It had to. Nothing should feel that good. Connor stroked Adrian’s hair, smiling as he watched, the image of Adrian kneeling there one he wouldn’t soon forget.

  “Let me know what you like. I’ve never been with a guy that wasn’t cut.” Adrian’s tongue flicked out, licking over his foreskin, tugging it, just a little.

  He grunted, his whole body jerking. “I like that. I truly do.”

  “Good.” Adrian’s hair fell on his hips, his belly, the tips tickling as that tongue explored, lapping in and around and against.

  His hips tried to roll up, his body needing to thrust, to rub, but Connor held his breath and held the urge back. He could so easily overwhelm this man. Instead he stroked Adrian’s shoulders, his arms, murmuring praise. That pretty mouth dropped over his cock, lips pushing down, so slowly, suction making his eyes roll. Then Adrian’s hands got into the act, rolling his balls, stroking his inner thigh.

  “Fuck!” His head lolled back, his hips rising against his will. He had to thrust. Simply had to.

  Adrian didn’t pull back, just took him in, hands pushing under his backside to tug him in deeper. Grunting, pushing up and up, Connor fisted his hands in the pillows, whole strings of nonsense words coming from him. So close. Adrian groaned, nosed in his curls, lips and tongue and the barest hint of teeth driving him mad, driving him further and further.

  Finally he could take no more. Adrian’s taste was still on his lips along with the man’s name when he shot, everything in him spilling right into Adrian. The sweet suction eased, gentled, but didn’t stop, just let the sensations pour over him in waves.

  “Oh. Oh, sweet. That was…. Thank you.” No one had ever treated him so.

  “Mm-hmm. Sweet.” Kisses peppered his shaft, his hips, his belly. “I was right; you do taste good.”

  “Come and share with me?” Connor put his hands under Adrian’s arms and lifted, remembering how good it was to snuggle the night before.

  Adrian cuddled right in, almost purring, hands cradling his face as they kissed. Oh. Oh, good.

  He rubbed his nose against Adrian’s, relaxing back into the cushions. The dishes were still there and he needed to wash up, but they could doze a wee bit first, couldn’t they?

  He got a happy grin, Adrian settling right down, keeping them twined together. Yes, a bit of a nap was just the thing.

  MAN, TREVOR was being a bitch.

  “Your staccato’s not short enough, Adrian.”

  “Pay attention, Adrian.”

  “You’re dragging, Adrian.”

  On and on and fucking on.

  He needed a beer.

  A beer and a nice fuck.

  A beer, a nice fuck, and pizza.

  Mmm. Pizza.

  He hoped Connor would be done job-hunting. Done and hungry and horny. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded perfect. Christ,
it was getting cold. And windy. Man, he hoped it didn’t rain.

  The wind was really howling by the time he got to his building, just whipping up his coat. Wasn’t this why he’d left Boston? There was someone else out there shivering with him too. The biggest, fuzziest gray dog he’d ever seen.

  “Oh…. Oh, look at you!” He blinked, looked around. “Hey, pup! What’re you doing here?”

  There was no growling, no ear flattening, which he seemed to remember as a good thing. In fact, the cold, dripping wet mutt just walked right up to him and nudged his hip, looking up at him mournfully.

  “Oh…. You’re soaked!” He felt for a collar. Nope. None. “Oh man. Do you have a person out here? Because it’s cold and wet and miserable and…. I can’t leave you out here. You’ll get sick.”

  The dog licked his hand, moving closer, almost knocking him down.

  He couldn’t leave the pup out. No way. That face was…. Too cute. “Come on. I bet there’s something good to eat, and I’ll throw some towels in the dryer, huh? Warm you up? Man, I bet Connor’d love you. You didn’t see him, did you?”

  He unlocked the outside door and held it open, trying to entice the dog in. The dog padded right in, heading up the stairs, not shaking once he was out of the rain, which was a good thing.

  “Oh, cool. Good boy.” He hurried up, shivering something awful. “Man, I’m thinking tomato soup and bacon sandwiches might be the thing. We’ll order pizza later.”

  A soft whuff answered that, the dog stopping right at his door, looking back expectantly. Oh, now that was kinda weird.

  “Man, does it smell like me or something? Cool. Come on in. I’ll find some towels and get you a bowl of water.” He chattered as he went, stripping off his coat and putting the violin away before heading toward the bathroom to grab towels. Lots of towels.

  That had to be the most polite dog he’d ever met, because he stood right by the door, dripping gently on the welcome rug, sniffing the air.

  “You’re a good boy. Man, you have to be freezing.” He dumped a couple of towels in the tiny dryer and then used some of the others to start drying all that poor, soppy fur.

  He ended up on his ass on the floor as the dog leaned against him, tongue lolling. Jeez, that was one heavy mutt. Big and muscular.

  Still, he couldn’t help but start laughing, rubbing good and hard. “You are not a lapdog, are you? Pretty eyes, though. And so strong. I bet you’re hungry too, but I don’t have shit for dog food.”

  He chuckled even harder when that rough-soft tongue scraped over his cheek, the silly thing looking like he was laughing too.

  “Now, do I look like dog food?” He scratched the soft ears, stroked gently. “The answer to that is no, by the way. Not even a little.”

  Sitting back on its haunches, the dog grinned at him some more, panting as he finished drying. Then it got up and wandered right to the kitchen, sniffing at his fridge before hoisting up on its back legs to nudge at the freezer door.

  “Oh, you do belong to somebody, don’t you? I bet they buy that pricey organic food. I don’t have any. Will you eat bacon? I have bacon. My boyfr—I mean, the guy that’s staying here. He likes bacon. It’s weird to call him a boyfriend, though, because this isn’t high school. Thank God.”

  He pushed the pup out of the way and grabbed some bacon and some tomatoes and…. Oh. Cheese. Dogs liked cheese.

  The dog—who didn’t give a dog some tags with his name on it?—sat back and started whining, licking his chops like crazy.

  “Okay. Okay. Let me get a knife and I’ll cut you some cheese. You can’t have raw bacon, though, because I’ll gag. I’ll cook it, but I’ll share.” He hacked off a hunk and held it out, frowning suddenly. “Please don’t bite my fingers, okay? I have a gig in four days.”

  Sniffing at his fingers, the mutt took the cheese gingerly, not even touching his hand, then chewed, sitting back and looking from him to the stove.

  “Oh, you so rock.” He chuckled and got the skillet out, whistling a little as he got the bacon going. Man, Connor wouldn’t believe this.

  He thought he was just gonna lose it when he started cooking. As soon as the bacon hit the pan the pup whined, wagging like crazy before backing off and going to grab a couple of the unused towels and drag them over to Adrian’s beanbag, plopping them down before circling and lying down, nose to tail.

  Oh, that was…. Man, Connor should be here. He turned the bacon and then grabbed the warmed towels, draping them over the dog. “You just get warm. The food’s cooking.”

  Could dogs understand talking? Surely so. They knew sit and walk and come on and shit, and this dog sure listened to him.

  A soft sigh came from the dog’s chest, those eyes just watching him. He’d seen dogs do that when they were like, waiting for their owners to come out of a store or something.

  “You just wait, okay? We’ll figure out where your home is, and until then you can just stay here. There’s room.” He chuckled and wandered back to take the first slices out of the pan. “I’ll have to buy more bacon, though.”

  He got a woof on that one, those ears perking right up. Man, that was one smart dog.

  He opened himself a can of soup and plopped that in the microwave before putting bread in to toast. “I don’t remember anyone around here walking someone as pretty as you. Maybe there’s a sign at the coffee shop, huh?”

  The poor mutt waited patiently for him to finish cooking, only sitting up when he came over with his soup and toast and all. Even then he didn’t try to steal any. He just sat beside the dog and shared because, well, it seemed to make sense and the poor thing liked his chair. His nest.

  Thinking about that made him grin, made him think of that scarred face and strong hands.

  They ate pretty darned companionably, the dog licking his bowl when he was done with his soup. Then the mutt proceeded to put its head down and doze right off, snoring a little.

  Oh….

  Poor tired guy.

  Adrian occupied himself with smoothing the thick fur, making sure there weren’t any knots, and waiting for Connor to get back.

  Before he knew it, he’d hunkered down, dozing right off, fingers in the dog’s ruff.

  WELL.

  Connor looked at his scratched-up hands ruefully. At least he’d gotten out from under Adrian’s arm without waking him. And he’d got into clothes. Now all he had to do was sneak to the front door and come in, like he’d been out. Except that he didn’t have a key. Damn it all. He couldn’t let himself in and the “dog” out without one, either….

  He sighed and sat at the kitchen table, idly picking bits of bacon out of the grease in the pan. Perhaps he might just get Adrian to forget the lack of a key by kissing him. Connor liked kissing Adrian a great deal.

  They’d been asleep a long while. He’d bet Adrian would like pizza. He would order pizza. Adrian had shown him how to use the phone the night before.

  Really, it was too damned bad he’d panicked that day, the change coming upon him when he saw someone who looked like the owner’s son, someone who was searching the crowd down by the docks, eyes black as the Devil’s. Now Adrian might have to know what he was, and that… well. That would surely ruin it.

  Adrian started moving, the little nest rustling and shifting. “Connor? Pup? Hello? Man, it got dark….”

  “Hello, sweet. Did you sleep well? I ordered us pizza.” Connor tried for normal.

  “I did. Did…. Did you let the dog out? I mean, I let this pup in. He was cold and wet. Big.”

  “He’s gone now.” Connor smiled, the confusion in Adrian’s eyes adorable to him, the splay of that long body so inviting that he moved right over and cuddled up, pushing the damp towels that smelled like him who was not him away.

  “Gone? Did his owner come? I’d hate for him to be cold…. Oh. Oh, you’re warm….” Adrian cuddled in, face lifting for a kiss. “How are you?”

  “I had a tough day, sweet. But I got some work in. Got paid under the table.” He c
ould lift things; that was a certainty. He’d made a whole twenty dollars for an hour’s labor. To get paid for his work… oh, it was a marvelous thing.

  “Tough? I’m sorry. Rehearsals sucked too. Just a shitty day all around.” Adrian’s hands dragged through his hair, petting him, stroking him.

  “I’m sorry, Adrian. You could play for me, if it will make you feel better.” He wanted that, would love to hear Adrian play.

  “You wouldn’t mind?” Those eyes were so dark, so close.

  “Mind?” Connor nuzzled Adrian’s chin, loving him a little. “No. I wouldn’t mind at all. I would love it.”

  “Yeah? I’d love to. Really.” Adrian stood up and wandered toward the closet where the violin was carefully kept. So pretty, the long line of spine, the thin ass swaying back and forth.

  Sitting back, Connor watched him, just…. He could not even begin to describe what Adrian inspired in him.

  Adrian moved easily, the violin shining in the long, sure fingers. A few notes sounded as Adrian wandered over to a stool, tuning up, getting ready. Then the music started, filling the air.

  Oh. Connor closed his eyes a moment, letting it flow through him. Then he opened them, wanting to see Adrian, to watch. Such music had to come from the saints. It wasn’t a saint, though. It was Adrian, playing, moving with the music, eyes fastened on him. Connor went, drawn by the music, to sit at Adrian’s feet, reaching out one hand to stroke Adrian’s leg. He swayed a little, in time with the music, humming along.

  The mood moved from beautiful to happy, then to playful for a while, making him smile. Then the play became teasing, sensual, wanton. His breathing quickened, his heart starting a slow, steady thumping. Connor smiled, bent to kiss Adrian’s knee, feeling the bruise on the inside of his lip from running headlong into a wall earlier. He loved how the music changed, got a little faster, a little deeper, just from the kiss. He could smell Adrian from down here, musk and heat and salt and a hint of rain.

  More than a hint of him, a primal, deep odor. The smell of home. The loose leg of Adrian’s pants rose as he pushed at it, giving him skin to touch, to slip down and smell, lick. The sound hiccupped just barely, Adrian’s cry drifting up above the music. Connor nibbled. He let his teeth scrape over Adrian’s ankle, then his calf. Such lovely hot skin. Such fire.