Things that Go Bump in the Night

by BA Tortuga

  “Connor.” The music trailed off, Adrian panting, groaning low.

  “Yes.” What could he say but Adrian’s name? He knelt up, reaching to pull Adrian down for a kiss. Just as the knock came on the door.

  The pizza.

  Adrian moaned, eyes rolling. “Food. Let me get the door. Hold her for me?”

  The violin was placed in his hands, the wood smooth, warm.

  It seemed smaller in his grasp. More delicate. Connor held it carefully, reverently. Such talent it took to draw beauty out of something that was really so simple. He wished, for a moment, that he had a talent for something other than violence.

  Adrian paid for the pizza, the smell of pepperoni and cheese and marinara filling the flat. Then Adrian came over, smiled. “You look good, holding her.”

  “She? Why is the fiddle a she?” He smiled, handing the violin back as soon as Adrian sat the boxes down.

  Adrian settled right behind him, warm and snuggling, chest to his back. “Because she is. Give me your hands a sec?”

  The violin was placed under his chin, the bow in his hand, Adrian’s fingers wrapping around his. “You looked like you wanted to try. We can do it together.”

  Connor blinked, looking at his huge, scratched and scarred hands, then at Adrian’s hands, showing him the way. The tiny sound they made as the bow drew across the first time made him laugh aloud.

  Adrian’s laugh mixed with his, warm and happy. “Relax. Long, smooth motions.”

  The next sound was better. Wavery and odd, but better.

  “So pretty.” Soon they were making a song. Slow, off beat, but a song.

  “Listen to us. Listen to you.” Adrian seemed ecstatic, overjoyed.

  “I know. I know, sweet. It’s….” It was wonderful. Like nothing else ever. Connor let Adrian guide him, let him show him, until it almost sounded like it was supposed to.

  His fingers were almost sore when Adrian put the bow down. “Oh, we’ll have to do that again.”

  He looked at his fingers, noticing the red spots. “Your calluses are different than mine.”

  “Well, you work hard. I play.” The violin was carefully wiped down, put away.

  “Oh bull.” He hugged Adrian close, kissing his nape. “Pizza?” They would eat. Before it got cold. Though he’d learned he liked it cold too.

  “Pizza.” Adrian snuggled right into him, humming happily. “We should eat.”

  “We should. You’ll need your energy.” He felt like he had fallen into someone else’s life. The scare that afternoon had jolted him into seeing how he didn’t deserve this. He’d run and run, just like a lost pup, finally deciding to turn around and come back. He couldn’t give Adrian up, could he?

  “Yeah? Good.” Adrian was all smiles, hands sliding over him randomly. “The storm’s getting worse; I’m glad you made it home.”

  “I am too.” Belly. Yes, he could pet Adrian’s belly, and he did, slipping his hand up under Adrian’s clothes.

  “I could feed you a piece. I think I can reach….” Adrian stretched, giving him more skin.

  Connor let one thumb rub over Adrian’s nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. “We can share. It will be like a movie.”

  “Mm-hmmm….” Adrian’s nipple drew up for him, wrinkled and tight like a little pebble. One piece of pizza was offered to him for a bite, the pepperoni smelling so spicy.

  Connor licked his lips before taking a bite, the cheese and tomato (oh, heavenly tomato) taste bursting in his mouth, making him moan.

  “Love watching you eat. I’m surprised it’s not bacon pizza.” Oh. Bacon pizza?

  “They can do that?” He let that thought percolate for a minute. He might die of bliss.

  “Oh yeah. Bacon, beef, anything you want.”

  “Bacon….” He’d had bacon, though. “I love this place. So much better than—” He bit off, almost letting “the cage” slip out.

  “Than?” Adrian got another piece, took a bite.

  “Where I used to live.”

  When he’d been the other, in the afternoon, he’d thought about how good Adrian was, how safe, about how maybe he could tell him.

  “It looks like it was a hard place. I’m glad you found your way here.”

  “So am I.” He took another bite, savoring it. “There’s pizza. And you.”

  “Violins and bacon.”

  “Pillows. Blankets.” He chuckled, trying not to smoosh Adrian as he leaned against him.

  “Uh-huh. Long hot showers with berry-scented shampoo.” Adrian squeezed him, just a little.

  “Mmmm. I like showers too. Not the kind we had today in the rain.” That had been cold, so cold.

  “Did you get caught in it too? It sure came down all of the sudden.”

  “I did. Got wet. But I found a warm place to dry out.” He went back to petting Adrian’s thighs, his arms, just touching everywhere he could.

  “Good.” Soft kisses brushed the hollow of his ear. “I wouldn’t want you cold.”

  “No. You’re a kind man, sweet. Even to lost dogs.” His Adrian. His.

  “Lost dogs deserve a home, just like everybody else.” The kisses got a little longer, a little hotter.

  Humming, he turned, his shoulder digging into Adrian’s chest before he managed to get an arm free to prop up and slide to one side to face Adrian and take a kiss.

  Mmm. Pizza-flavored Adrian.

  Adrian’s hand teased around his waist, slipped under his sweater.

  The pizza box started to slide and Connor grabbed it, closing it with one hand and shoving it aside. They would eat later. He pressed Adrian back into their nest, kissing and licking, their noses and cheeks rubbing.

  Adrian wrapped around him, loving on him, happy little sounds filling the air.

  There. Yes. That was what he wanted. He needed it, after his day. Sliding in with his tongue, tasting, feeling.

  “Oh. Man. I want you, yeah? In me? We’ll stay warm.”

  “Uh-huh. Yes. Please.” Pushing up, Connor took off his sweater, eased his soft pants down too. He wanted to feel skin.

  Adrian shimmied out of his clothes, eager for him, cock full and hard. Hard enough that it slapped against Adrian’s belly after getting caught on the elastic of Adrian’s pants, making them both laugh. “See? Want.”

  “Yes.” Connor stopped a minute, head tilting. He’d never been with a man except on hands and knees, back to front. He wondered… that seemed wrong for Adrian. “How… how do you…? What do you like?”

  “You. I like you, Connor.” Adrian leaned back, arms open for him. “C’mere.”

  He went, nibbling at Adrian’s neck, kissing at his Adam’s apple, moving down to lick collarbones. Adrian tasted so good, so fine.

  He fit so well, held by Adrian’s arms, the long legs, hips rocking and tilting up, trying to tempt him.

  There was temptation a man could pass up, and then there was Adrian. But they needed…. “Do you have…? I mean… I….”

  “Yeah. In that goofy chest. Lube. Rubbers. Possibly a thing or two that would embarrass me.” Adrian chuckled, winked. “I’ll get them.”

  Right. Moving to one side, Connor let Adrian go, watching him. Hungry. Needing.

  Adrian rummaged, pretty ass in the air, whistling as a tube was tossed over. He unscrewed the top, the slick cool on his fingers. Connor smiled. That would be much better than spit. He rubbed the wet stuff between his fingers to warm it, licking his lips as Adrian wandered back, prick red and hard.

  “Does that work?” Adrian wriggled a little, eyes on his mouth, on his tongue. “Oh, man. Want you.”

  “Works fine, sweet. Now get over here.” Connor reached up with his free hand as Adrian got close, sliding it up one long thigh and around to pull Adrian down on him.

  He loved how Adrian melted against him, all smooth and warm and sleek. “God, you’re warm.”

  “Mmm-hmm. You make me warm. Really.” He kissed Adrian, petted him, finally reaching back with his wet fingers and touching,
the tips brushing Adrian’s hole.

  Adrian responded like the man was born for him, arching back, stretching toward his touch. The happy little moan reminded him of the music he’d heard earlier.

  Sweet, deep, and heartfelt. Adrian was a song in himself. Connor hummed along with the tune, working one finger into Adrian’s body, tight and hot and so wonderful he sighed.

  Adrian’s face was nuzzled into his throat, lips parted, tongue heated and wet, sliding on his skin.

  “Oh, sweet. How you feel. Like satin.” He’d seen a satin dress once; it had been his mother’s. She would sit by the fire and the fabric would warm and feel just like this.

  “More, Connor. Please.” He whimpered at the soft plea, the need in Adrian’s voice.

  “Yes. More.” He gave Adrian another finger, cautiously, afraid his big, rough fingers might be too much.

  Adrian groaned, purring low, body starting to move faster. “More. Just like that. Just like that.”

  “Here?” He was not so good at this that he wasn’t worried he’d foul up, but Adrian made him brave. Connor thrust his fingers in and out, his thumb pressing outside as well.

  “Oh. Oh yes. There.” Adrian’s teeth scraped on his shoulder, just grazing. “Yes, love.”

  He jumped, growled a little, the bite primal, good. It made him move his fingers faster, in and out, spreading the slick stuff, opening Adrian up for him.

  “That’s so good.” Adrian rocked faster. “So… right.”

  “Mmm yes. Love it.” Finally his cock reminded him that he needed attention too, and Connor licked at Adrian’s cheek. “Are you ready?”

  Adrian nodded, rolled over onto his back, knees up and spread. “Oh yeah. Real ready.”

  Oh. His cock jumped, his pulse racing like he was readying for a fight. Connor rumbled, going up on his knees. He took more of the lube and slicked up his prick so he could push it against Adrian’s hole. “Oh. Sweet.”

  “Yes. Hot. Oh, man, you’re fine.” Those fingers wrapped around his arms, holding on tight. Tugging at him.

  “So good, sweet. So….” Words failed him as he slid home, watching Adrian grimace, making a small, comforting noise. He’d not hurt this man for the world. Not ever.

  “Oh. It’s been a while. So full.” Adrian’s eyes were huge, staring up at him. “Feels so good.”

  “Good? Not hurting?” He was panting, his eyes trying to roll, but he kept them on Adrian, kept looking as they loved. Taking it all in. Their scent made his cock twitch deep in Adrian’s body.

  “No. Not hurting. Don’t stop. I want you, want more.”

  “Okay. All right.” He began to move, in and out, his hips rolling. He bit down on Adrian’s throat, licking to take out the sting.

  “Oh….” That made Adrian jerk, body squeezing him just a little, making him gasp.

  They moved faster, the urgency taking them. Sweat beaded and ran on his skin, steamy and good. His hands slipped on Adrian’s hips and he clamped down harder.

  “Yes. Yes, Connor. Love. I need….” They started slapping together, Adrian sliding beneath him.

  Love. Connor nodded, head shaking wildly, and moved his hands to rest on either side of Adrian’s chest so he could brace himself for kisses, pressing down to trap Adrian’s cock between them.

  Adrian leaned up, mouth pushing against him, tongue heading in to taste him. Their kisses became wild, needy, tongues and lips coming together, both of them groaning at the sweetness of it. So different than anything before, so incredibly right. “I want to do this forever.”

  “Yes. Oh yes, please.” God above please let that be. Connor thrust, his breath heaving in his lungs. Adrian’s fingers tugged him closer, low grunts sounding. Oh. Oh, close. Tight. Oh.

  The movement of Adrian’s body around him finally got to be too much, and Connor cried out, his head hanging between his shoulders, his hips snapping as he spent deep, deep inside Adrian’s body.

  Adrian whimpered against his skin, the wet heat on his belly proving Adrian was there with him.

  For a moment he thought he would collapse down on Adrian, squashing him into the pillows and beanbags. But his arms finally obeyed his brain’s command, pushing him off to one side, Adrian flowing with him.

  “Mmm…. Thank you, Connor. Thank you.” Adrian was kissing his collarbone, his neck.

  “Oh, Adrian. I…. Good. So.” He just kissed Adrian hard, pouring all he’d not say into it.

  Hands petted his head, his shoulders, his neck, playing music on his skin. Loving on him. Connor relaxed, sinking into the comfort Adrian offered, the sense of home. His place. His very own, where no one owned him and there was just music and laughter and bacon. And he’d managed to get through the day without Adrian asking about the dog.

  Thank goodness for favors, large and small. Connor would take them all, and be glad about it.

  ADRIAN WANDERED around, watering plants.

  Somehow, in the last six weeks, he’d gone from one dying ivy to ten… no, twelve potted plants sitting in windowsills, on tables. Everywhere.

  Bizarre.

  But incredibly cool.

  “Hi, little ivy-looking-type plant. I’m assuming you need water. You’re sort of wilty, and Connor’ll growl if you kick off like the last one.”

  Yeah, bizarre.

  Connor had gotten work. It took him out, mainly in the wee hours, to unload trucks and boats and stuff, but today Connor had gone out about noon, mumbling about bacon and tomato pizza. Connor really liked that. When he heard the jiggling of the doorknob, he thought maybe Connor was back, had forgotten his key.

  “Hey, love. Just a sec. I’ll open.” He pottered over to the door, hitting the fern with a splash before opening up. “I watered the plants like you asked me….”

  As soon as he had the door unlocked, it burst open, sending him flying, his watering can splashing everywhere. Two big, scarred men powered through, both of them prowling around the room as a smaller man in an expensive wool coat walked in, smiling at him almost kindly.

  “What the fuck?” He stood still for half a second, then sprinted for the phone. 911. 911. 911.

  One of the big guys growled, moving to intercept him.

  “Get out of my house.” Oh fuck. Fuck. Come on. Phone. He shifted, willing to take the chance. “I don’t have shit you want.”

  “Actually, lad, you have something that belongs to me.” The little man advanced, taking off his gloves.

  “Bullshit.” He grabbed hold of the floor lamp, wielding it like a big, skinny bat. “I don’t fucking know you.”

  “Nor will you, I imagine. But Connor belongs to me. And you will tell me where he is.” Such a weird voice, sort of high and not quite… well, human-sounding. One of the bodyguards growled again, sounding like a big freaky dog.

  “Connor?” Oh fuck no. These must be assholes from wherever Connor got hurt. “Go to hell. If I did know, I wouldn’t fucking tell you psychopathic motherfuckers.”

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

  A tiny motion of the little man’s hand was all it took for one of the bodyguards to start moving in on him, hands clenching and unclenching.

  “Help me! Someone! Help me!” He swung the lamp, hitting one of the guys as hard as he could, the metal pole buckling.

  He could feel bruises pop up the minute one of the guys touched him, and he was really starting to flail and panic, but then the door hit the wall again, and a snarling, hurtling ball of fur shot through to attack the man who held him.

  “Help me. God.” He kept hitting, kept screaming, kept fighting as hard as he could. Oh God. Please. Make them go. Don’t let them hurt my hands. Please.

  The hands on him disappeared, leaving him staggering back, beating air. The gray, furry shape resolved itself into the huge dog he’d taken in off the street, fighting like a mad thing.

  “Oh, it’s you. Thank God.” He ran for the kitchen and grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall. It was heavy. He could… bash someone with it.

  Mayb
e the weird little guy in the fancy duds. He just stood back, watching the one big guy and the… two dogs.

  Two?

  What the fuck?

  He took the fire extinguisher and pulled the little pin. Okay. Maybe this one foamed. Maybe. He closed his eyes, pointed the fire extinguisher, and squeezed.

  It foamed. There was a shout, a thud, and the sound of scrambling feet. Of course, there was also the high-pitched yelp of an animal in pain and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor. All of it was sorta obscured by the foam when he opened his eyes.

  “Please be gone. Please be gone.” He wiped at his face, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, if they were still there.

  One dog was down, not moving. It wasn’t his, though. It was smaller. Darker. The one big guy was down too, covered in foam, moaning softly, curled into a ball. And the little guy, well, he dangled from Connor’s big hand where it wrapped around his throat.

  “Connor. Love. I’ll call the police. Be careful.”

  “No!” It came out as a bark, those pretty gray eyes almost black as Connor looked at him. “No, please, sweet. No police.”

  It kind of occurred to him that Connor was naked.

  “No? Okay. Okay. Connor?” He sort of… vibrated there. “What do I do?”

  “I need… I need a sheet. Or something.” Oh, okay, he could do that. Even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Connor shaking the little man like a terrier with a rat.

  “Okay. Okay. Don’t let them hurt you. I’ll be back.” He ran, slip-sliding through the mess on the floor toward the linen closet. Sheets. Sheets. They had sheets, right? Oh Christ.

  “I can’t kill you,” Connor was saying when he got back. “I know that. But I swear by all that’s holy, if you ever invade my home again, I’ll tear you to bits and leave you in the gutter.”

  “I… I have sheets. You sure about the police?” He wasn’t shaking; he wasn’t.

  “I am. Please.” Connor set the man down and reached for a sheet, then wrapped it around himself.