by BA Tortuga
“Yes. Yes, Len.” He nodded, panting, trying to focus long enough so Galen knew he wasn’t fucking around. “Yes. Love.”
They moved together so hard their skin slapped, Galen’s hips bruising his ass. Galen jerked, pulling at him, pushing into him, finally crying out and filling him, shooting hard. Shane’s head fell back and the chain went taut and his nipples burned and…. Sweet fuck. Yes.
They kept this up, his balls were gonna never forgive him.
“Oh, hell, Shane.” Galen’s hand was still moving on him, the other arm braced to hold Galen up. He nodded, fucking vibrating, world spinning.
“Fuck, you make me crazy.” Those kisses he got made him spin even more, Galen’s chest brushing the chain on the clamps.
“T… turnabout’s fair play.” He gasped, pulling away, so sensitive.
“Yeah.” Galen shifted off to one side, licking the sweat from his neck. “I’m…. Hell, Shane. It would kill me to think it wasn’t mutual.”
He stopped, pulled back until he met Len’s eyes. “You ain’t in any danger of dying, Galen. Not from that.”
There was relief in Galen’s eyes, that and something white hot, something that made his stomach flip. “Good.”
“Yeah.” He leaned in, holding Len’s eyes, sorta just breathing together.
Galen went to pull him close, the chain on those damned clamps jingling, and Galen laughed, kissing him hard. “We should get these off.”
“Hell, yes. They may only be for decorative purposes, but I’d like to keep them both.”
“I’m partial to them. Now would be the time to hold your breath.” There was no more warning than that and the clamps came off.
“Fucking Christ!” He bowed, nipples on fucking fire, throbbing for a few heartbeats.
That’s when Galen did manage to pull him in, holding him close, both soothing and aggravating the feeling. “It gets better.”
He almost chuckled, his nipples like little rocks, fucking hard enough to roll as they rubbed together. The kisses he got almost made him forget them. Almost. Those kisses were like nothing else before, somehow slow and deep and lazy, but charged with whatever it was that had taken them over.
His hands got tangled in Galen’s hair and he held on, mouth fused to Galen’s, heart zinging a little when it hit him the air he was breathing was Galen-flavored and shared. The kiss finally eased, Galen licking his lips and leaning on him forehead to forehead. “Lord, Shane.”
He nodded, fingers twining with Len’s. “Yeah. Yeah.”
Those black eyes stared at him, Galen’s big hands moving on him, soothing him until his heart slowed. “Gettin’ used to you, lover. Better plan on hanging around.”
“Until you tell me it’s time to go, yeah?”
Galen kissed him, a light brush of lips. “Not gonna.”
“Cool.” He grinned, leaned his cheek on Len’s shoulder. “Cool.”
He might not believe it yet, but it sounded good, and Galen felt good tangled around him, and he would let that be enough for now.
Chapter Seven
GALEN LOOKED around the hotel, grinning his damned fool head off. Shane had gotten those days off, all right, and Galen had gotten them a hotel right smack in the middle of the French Quarter in New Orleans for the Labor Day weekend. It was nice too, with a big old bed and a hot tub and a balcony with that iron railing stuff. A private one.
He turned back into the main room and looked at Shane, who was still stowing his suitcase. “Fancy, huh?”
“It is. The tub is worth the price of admission, yeah?” Shane was still blinking a little, the early flight hiccupping his weirdass sleep schedule.
“Yeah.” He was still tickled as all hell that Shane was on this trip in the first place, because the kid was a creature of habit, so to speak. Galen went over and grabbed him, rewarding Shane for about the fiftieth time with a kiss. The little girl who’d been their flight attendant had gotten all red-faced on number twenty.
Shane pushed close, holding on tight, lips open and eager and bittersweet with coffee. God, it was fine. And much as he was looking forward to seeing the city with Shane, he thought breaking in the bed and having a wee nap would be good first.
“Did you pack the lube in the front pocket of the suitcase?”
“Yup.” Shane’s hands started working his shirt out of his waistband.
“Oh, good. Because how’re we supposed to know if we really want to stay here if we don’t break it in?” He nibbled down Shane’s neck, licking the salt away.
“Break it in…. Oh…. That’s good….” Shane’s head fell back, throat working.
“Mm-hmm.” The way Shane reacted to him made him crazed. Galen sucked right at the base of Shane’s neck, right where it met his shoulder, pushing the shirt out of the way.
Shane’s fingers were moving quick—buttons, zippers, everything worked open so those hands could find skin. His own hands seemed to be made for gripping rather than anything else, because Galen had a double handful of Shane’s ass and he wasn’t letting go.
They stumbled back toward the bed, Shane’s ass pushing hard against his hands as they went down, lips still locked. Oh, yeah. Horizontal was much easier. They rolled so they were on their sides, and Galen finally got his brain working enough to get at Shane’s jeans, popping the button and opening the zipper. But only so he could grab that ass again, this time with nothing between Shane’s skin and his hands.
Shane was leaving little bites, teeth scraping his jaw, his chin. All the while that ass moved, sorta rocking and sliding in his hands, and those fingers were pushing cloth away. God, it was too damned good. Galen rolled again, pressing Shane flat on the bed and rearing up to strip them both. Then he spread Shane’s legs with one of his and slid right between them, pushing down.
“Yeah….” Shane’s hands found his ass, squeezing and tugging them close. Eager and hot, that long cock pressed and slid, making him hot as hell.
He was gonna pop right off. Jesus. Once upon a time, even with Shane, he’d been able to control himself, anticipate the pleasure. Or at least he thought he had. ’Course, with Shane there was no need to draw it out. There would be next time. And the time after that.
Galen figured he had infinite hard-ons where Shane was concerned.
He kissed Shane deep, searching out every bit of chicory and cream and the rich, hot flavor that was Shane, all day every day. Shane cried out, one leg draping over his thigh, the other bracing against the mattress. The rubbing became humping, Shane’s eyes wide and hungry.
All he could do was move to one side enough to get their cocks really rubbing good and hard, getting the friction going. At this rate it wouldn’t take them long. All Shane had to do was touch him right there….
“Fuck, yes.” Shane jerked, back arching, belly slamming against him as heat sprayed, the fucking bed groaning.
Galen yelped, his orgasm screaming up his spine, surprising him. He shot hard, hips grinding down against Shane, testing the give of that big old mattress.
“Mmm… I vote we stay.” Shane was grinning, nuzzling against his shoulder.
He laughed, gave Shane another kiss, this one sliding into lazy. “Yeah. At least until we try the hot tub.”
“Hell, yes. Fucking in a hot tub’s almost like getting high.”
“Yeah?” Galen grinned, betting anything Shane would be happy to do something Galen hadn’t done. “Never tried it.”
“Makes you dizzy as fuck, all the bubbles. It’s cool.” Shane petted his shoulder, his spine, winding right down like a tired puppy.
Galen snuggled close for a minute, then had a thought and rolled away, ignoring Shane’s protest. He got the lube and turned the air conditioner unit on, then got back in bed to get comfy.
Otherwise they’d wake up stuck together.
Again.
THEY WALKED along the Quarter, watching this street performer and that, having a beer here, looking there. Being fucking tourists. Shane was having a ball. He wasn’t sur
e he’d ever been a tourist before.
“Are you gonna hire a voodoo priestess to bless the Bait House, Len?”
“Nah. I’ll just get us a chicken foot to hang over the doorway like the last shop we were in.” Galen looked fine in jeans and a tight T-shirt, boots and gimme cap. And smiling. That smile was full-on happy.
“Love, you put that up, Cooter Davis will steal it to catch crappie.” He winked over, grinning wide.
“You got a point there. Oh! C’mon.” Grabbing his arm, Galen dragged him into the cool, dark interior of a shop, and it wasn’t until his eyes adjusted to the gloom that he realized it was an adult toy shop.
His eyes went all boing, and he looked at Len, shaking his head, chuckling. “Perv.”
Damn, but there was some… interesting shit in here.
“Well, I never claimed not to be.” He got goosed, Galen wandering off toward the back of the store.
He followed close behind, figuring he was safer with the perv he knew than the what-can-I-help-you-find girl with holes in her ears the size of quarters.
He found Galen looking at a rack of leather straps that looked like they could all hook together and hog-tie a man in all sorts of ways. It was kinda scary. Galen hooted. “The look on your face.”
“Well, shit, Len. Look at that. That’s something out of a tack room, right enough.” God, he knew his eyes were wide, cock filling in his jeans.
“It is, but it gives a lot more versatility than the cuffs we have.” Galen winked. “We should get it.”
Well… it was a lot less obvious than walking out with a giant purple dildo or a…. “Galen? Is that a plastic hand?”
“Yeah. It is.” Oh, now, Galen had to be fucking with him. That look was pure evil.
Okay, so he had two options—look like a dork and ask why, or nod and hope to fuck Len didn’t press. He looked again, tilting his head. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Well. It’s not purple.”
“No. But it looks like it might glow in the dark. I guess that would be an interesting effect.” The strappy thing came off the rack and went right back up the aisle in Galen’s hands to get put on the counter. “Okay, darlin’. I got mine. You pick yours.”
He looked around and found a mitten with fur on one side, lamb’s wool on the other. Oh, now that was cool and in his price range and would make Galen squirm. “I’ll take this one.”
“Oh, yeah.” Yeah. It was already making Len squirm, if the look in those sloe eyes was anything to go by. “Hand it over, and I’ll pay. Then we’ll go get some of that coffee and some beignets, and I’ll watch you bounce.”
“Bounce? Me? Poo.” He handed the mitt over, hand sliding over Len’s ass and squeezing. Mmm… that was fine. Just fine.
A bit of a blush rose in Galen’s cheeks, but the man was making all sorts of promises with his eyes, so Shane didn’t think he minded. Damned if Len didn’t buy that strappy thing, and his glove too, without batting an eye, charming the girl behind the counter with a wink and a “Thanks, honey.”
The street seemed oddly bright and normal after that place. Galen led him through the streets, right to Jackson Square and the Café du Monde, coming through on the promise of the coffee and pastry—not just beignets, but chocolate croissants too.
“Oh, man. Pure fucking decadence.” He was bouncing, a little. More out of sheer happiness than anything, really, because, damn, this place was insane and bright and old and fucking cool. He snagged the end of a croissant, licked the chocolate from inside.
“Hell, yes.” When he looked up, Galen was watching him. His tongue.
Oh. He licked again, scooping the chocolate out, enjoying it, enjoying the heat in those eyes.
“You’re an evil fucking tease, Shane.” That hot look never wavered, not even as Galen sipped his coffee and licked a little cream off his mustache.
“I’m just enjoying the sweet, Len.” Fuck, his cock was aching, hard.
“Uh-huh.” He got his own show as Galen licked the powdered sugar off a beignet before biting into it gently, moaning at the taste.
Oh, now…. There was powdered sugar on that mustache and he wanted to lean over, lick it off, lick those lips, and…. Damn.
“We’re gonna have to sit here awhile.” Galen winked, foot rubbing his under the table.
“Yeah. Good thing we’re not on a schedule, huh?” He grinned, the heat in his belly having nothing to do with coffee.
“Yep. Not for days.” Oh, there was that smile again. It was devastating. Galen was freaking amazing when he wasn’t frowning.
“Man….” He grinned back, shook his head. “I’m never gonna go soft, you keep looking that way, Len.”
“I could get us some ice water. Stuff some cubes down our jeans.”
He laughed. “Nope. Wet spots. Tacky.” Almost as tacky as a glow-in-the-dark plastic hand.
“Well, there’s always a good thump.” In the end, they waited and talked and had another coffee, but no more pastry, until finally they were able to get up and move on.
“So where to next, man?” The sun was coming down, warm and sweet, making everything lazy and right.
“The old Jax brewery? The cathedral?” Galen’s hand brushed against his, the one not holding the innocuous bag with the naughty toys. “Or we could go on up Bourbon and hit the streetcar and ride around for a bit.”
“Oh, let’s go for a ride. Then I can lean over to look and no one will notice me copping a feel.”
“Sounds good.” They wandered, heading at a leisurely pace toward where the Quarter met the rest of the city, then hopped on the streetcar heading up St. Charles toward the Garden District. It was crowded enough no one could see their hands, and, Lord, Galen was all over him. He did his dead-level best to retaliate, but Galen had him twisting, gasping, sliding on the fucking seat.
Galen was just as hot, but he had that damned bag to hide under, leaving Shane feeling open, like he was putting on a show. The ride was pretty, when he noticed it, full of old buildings and iron railings, and finally Galen pulled the little buzzer wire and they got off on a shady, tree-lined street with a bunch of big old houses. It was quiet and not too touristy, and Galen grinned at him.
“We oughta be able to find a nice doorway or something, lover. Come on.”
“Galen….” Out in the middle of the fucking city? Shit. No way. Not a chance. He followed, though, didn’t he? Yes.
Yes, he did. And got a handful of butt too, because he was being led into temptation.
Steps skittering, Galen laughed, reached back, and grabbed his hand, pulling him faster. They went down a side street, finding this part of the city much quieter, the people a lot less interested. He could see Galen scanning doorways and alleys, looking for an out-of-the-way place.
“You’re something else….” He laughed, rubbing a little whenever they got close enough.
“What? I blame it on you, lover.” Galen dragged him into a courtyard, pulling him behind a little fountain alcove and pushing him up against a wall to kiss him silly. He opened right up, hands sliding around Len’s waist to tug him close, rub them together. The air smelled like water and mint and grass and Galen, and it made him ache.
Galen kissed him deep, tongue pushing in, hips pressing in, making his zipper rub his cock. It was like Galen couldn’t get enough of him, had to be touching him. He arched, sliding and shifting and too fucking eager for being in public for his own good.
“Got to.” Oh God. Oh fuck, Galen was sliding down, the big plastic bag hitting the ground and Galen’s knees hitting it, and Galen was opening his jeans, nuzzling in to lick at his cock as it came free.
“Oh. Oh, shit. Len….” His hands pushed the cap off, tangled in the dark hair as his head fell back, hips humping forward. He’d never met anyone who loved to suck as much as Galen, or had a mouth made for it like his. Galen’s cheeks hollowed, pulling hard on him, and those hands slid around to grab his ass and pull him into a fast rhythm. So he was just fucking Galen’s mouth.
&nbs
p; He couldn’t last, no way with that mouth on him like white on rice, sucking hard enough that his eyes rolled. Galen took him right on in, eyes closed, little moans coming out around his cock. His ass rubbed against the tile, the denim catching where it was broken. His legs were shaking and shuddering, belly rock-hard. “Gonna….”
“Mmmph.” He was gonna take that as encouragement, because Galen’s nose hit his pubes, hands pushing against his ass to take him deeper and deeper until Galen’s throat closed around him in a swallow. He bit his bottom lip, balls drawing up as hard as stones, entire body aching as he came.
Galen knelt at his feet, taking him in, hands petting, soothing. When he went down, Galen tucked him away, zipped him up, and stood, a tiny trickle of seed at the corner of his smiling mouth. “That? Was hot, darlin’. The things you do to me.”
“I….” He leaned in, licked the come away, groaned.
“Yeah.” Galen kissed him, brought his hand down to the front of those jeans. “Think we can get me off without staining anything?”
“I think.” He unzipped Len, neat as anything, one hand wrapping around the hard shaft, the other pushing in to cup the soft balls.
“Fuck, Shane. Yeah.” Oh, Galen was close, those heavy balls tight in his hand, Galen’s thighs shaking. Wouldn’t take much.
He leaned forward, blew into Galen’s ear. “Fucking love this. Love how hot you are.”
“Shane!” Galen bit off the cry by taking a kiss from him, lips fastening on his as Galen shot right into his hand, easy as anything.
Oh, yeah. Yeah, that was it. He dug the handkerchief out of his pocket, cleaning Galen off. “There. No stains.”
Nodding, Galen kissed him lightly and looked around, eyes going wide. “Holy fuck, Shane. We’re in someone’s yard.”
“Yeah. We should, you know, before the cops come.”
“Shit, yes.” He got a wild grin and another hard kiss before Galen tucked himself away. “I could have food.”
“Cool. New Orleans has food, I hear.” He grabbed the bag and they started walking down the street, both grinning like fools. “So tell me, do people hit each other with the fake hands?”