by BA Tortuga
“Oh. Oh, love.” Shane’s hands grabbed his head, hips moving faster, cries deeper now, harsh. Shane was on fire, and it made Galen cry out, made him thrust harder, deeper. So fast. They were going so fast. He covered Shane’s nipple with his palm, pressing the little ring down.
“For you.” The words were bit out, those blue eyes unfocused, the heady, musky scent of Shane sharp on the air.
“Fuck!” He came, staring right into Shane’s eyes, body tight enough to snap. His. Oh, God.
Shane slumped back into the pillows, gasping, panting hard.
“Darlin’.” He fell down on Shane, his arms giving out. God, almighty. “That. You. Damn.”
“Uh-huh.” Shane kissed his temple, shivering.
They needed to rest a bit. Galen slid off to one side, hands dragging on Shane’s skin, snuggling close. That had worn him clean out. But then? He was gonna get Shane back for that little surprise.
Oh, yeah. Shane was gonna be on fire all day. He’d see to that.
He couldn’t wait.
MAN, THEY should have vacationed in Alaska. Antarctica. Detroit. Somewhere that required parkas and sweaters and layers and shit.
Shane still couldn’t quite believe he’d done it—just walked in, stripped off, and alcohol, needle, ring, done. Boom. Instant hard-on.
They’d gotten up, fucked, had lunch. Showered. Rubbed and soaped and touched and….
Man, he wondered if his balls would just fall off.
Now they were out and about, and he was spending all his energy avoiding Len’s hands, shifting to keep his hot, hard little nipple away from those fingers. And he was seriously considering getting the other one done.
Shit.
Galen was grinning at him too, those dark eyes sparkling wickedly. He knew and was tormenting him. Deliberately. Pushy bastard.
They walked by the place he’d stopped last night, this morning, whatever. It was dark, closed, waiting for the night owls to spend their money. “That’s where I got it done.”
“Yeah?” Galen looked, cupping his hand over his eyes to peer in the window. “We gonna come back and get the other one done? Or do you think that might kill you?” That glinting grin slid his way, a look out of the corner of Galen’s eye as Galen tugged the hem of his shirt so it just brushed.
“We can. That way they’d heal together.” He groaned, shifting away. “Of course, I’m wearing Band-Aids over them for six months.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’. I want access.” Galen brushed against him, chuckling as he jumped. “We’ll come back.”
“Evil bastard.” He goosed Galen, scooting forward, hauling ass down the road. He heard Galen laughing behind him, heard the sound of those heavy boots as Galen chased him. This vacation thing? Was a hoot.
He slowed as they headed into a crowd of tourists, ducking around old lady one and Asian dude two. The old lady peeped, and he figured Galen must have moved her a little more forcibly out of the way than he had. Finally one big hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
He looked up, grinning. “Hey.”
“Hey. You are cruising for a bruising, lover.” Galen was flushed, laughing, the other hand coming up to push at his chest.
“Wh… who? Me?” His eyes rolled a little, breath hitching.
“Yeah. You.” He got a quick kiss, some asshole grumbling about it and getting a dark look from Galen and shutting right up. “We should find some supper. Eat a nice long meal and find a place to dance, and then it will be time for me to watch.”
“Oh, that sounds good.” He nodded, the sun all bright and making his head swim. “What are you hungry for?”
“I was thinking Antoine’s. Go for the real New Orleans Cajun and Creole experience. And it’s early enough we shouldn’t have to stand in line too long.” Galen had told him Antoine’s was one of the most famous restaurants in the city, and they didn’t take reservations. Galen took his hand, tugging him along, rubbing shoulders with him when he caught up.
“Cool.” He grinned, fucking happy down to his toes. “You gonna be good in line, now?”
“Hell, no. I’m gonna make you squirm. It’s only fair. I’ve been fighting my dick all day.”
He reached down, squeezed the dick in question. “All day? I’ve taken care of it a time or two.”
“Shane!” Galen’s cheeks went pink above that clipped beard before Galen laughed, loud and happy. “A few, yeah.”
Oh, man. This vacation thing? So fucking fun.
They stood in line and shocked a couple of the old ladies around them with their playing, and they had crawfish and shrimp, and Galen insisted on oysters, saying they didn’t need them but vacations were for living dangerously anyway.
Then they set out to find a place to dance.
They found a little dive listed in a gay-friendly paper, somewhere dark and smoky, live music pouring out the door. “Oh, here’s the place.”
“Yeah. Looks good.” They slipped inside and bought the obligatory drink before hitting the floor. He’d never really seen Galen dance before, but it wasn’t surprising he could, and pretty well at that. It felt fucking amazing, pushing into Galen’s arms, moving away to tease. His heart was pounding, skin tingling.
Even in the gloom of the club, he could tell Galen felt the same way. Galen’s eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed, and that smile was becoming more and more familiar. Needed.
A slow song started and he pressed close, twining his fingers with Len’s—protecting his chest. Galen chuckled at him, bringing their joined hands to rest at their waists, swaying with the music.
“Oh.” He leaned in, relaxing, letting their bodies slide together.
“Mm-hmm.” They rocked, letting the music take them, and Galen hummed along, mellow and happy, right above his ear. He closed his eyes, swaying. Fuck, they were good at this, good together. Galen danced with him until the music changed again, then nodded toward the bar. “Let’s get something to drink and find a dark corner, lover.”
“Yeah. You want a whiskey or a beer or something else?”
“Whiskey.”
“Cool.” He wandered over, ordered two neat Jacks, and carried them over to Len, easy as pie. “Busman’s holiday.”
Galen nodded, hooked a chair with his foot, and pulled it right over so they’d be sitting practically in each other’s laps. “Feel good to let someone else do the work?”
“Feels good to be able to sit with you. Drives me nuts, having you so close and not be able to touch.”
“Yeah. Me too, darlin’. Want to steal you away.” Galen waited until he sat, then slid an arm around him and pulled him close, nuzzling him. “Gonna be even harder now. Gonna be like that dirty old man who keeps pawing you.”
“Nah. You, I want touching me.” He reached up, stroking Galen’s cheek.
“Good. Seems to be my new favorite pastime.” That sneaky hand crept up, tweaked his nipple. “I love doing it.”
He pulled away, drinking his whiskey. “I’m telling you—Band-Aids.”
“Uh-huh.” Galen set his whiskey aside, untouched, grinning and licking Shane’s neck. “It’s after eleven. You reckon the piercing place is open?”
“I… yeah. Yeah, I reckon.” His belly got tight. “You wanting to see this time?”
“What do you think?” Like Galen knew, like he could feel it, that hand dropped to his belly, pushing up under his shirt. “Want to see.”
The breath huffed out of him, that fucking intensity coming right back. “Yeah. Fuck.”
“Let’s go, lover. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“You gonna finish your drink?” He stood, hand out for Galen, starting to buzz, to vibrate like a penny on an old washing machine.
“Not thirsty.” The weirdest look passed over Galen’s face for a minute, then Galen seemed to shake it off, grabbing his hand and standing to give him a light kiss. “Let’s go.”
“Right with you.” The moon was bright as hell, the streets light a
s they headed out.
THE PIERCING place looked a heck of a lot different than it had that afternoon. It was bright and clean and full of pierced, tattooed freaks. Galen liked it. Hey, even a redneck could like that kinda place, he figured. He pushed Shane in front of him, waiting for him to set it up, because Lord knew, Galen didn’t know anything about actually getting it done.
A little blonde girl with braids and enough metal on her face to bring in a radio station from Atlanta walked up. “Hey! Cowboy! You’re back! You having any problems?”
“Hey. No. No, I just. I think. I mean.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Ah. Getting the other done?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” She handed over a clipboard. “You know the drill. Fill it out.”
Galen kinda wandered, not wanting to get too close and jump Shane before anything got done. There was plenty to look at. It didn’t take too long, Shane produced cash and driver’s license, signed his name about thirty-five times, and then came to look at butterflies and skulls and bug-eyed leprechauns drawn on the wall. “I’m next.”
“Oh, cool.” He grinned over. “Seriously afraid I might come watching.”
“I’m gonna have a matched set.” Shane was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Man, I’m hyped. I should have taken your drink.”
Galen shrugged. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna drink it.”
It was weird. He hadn’t seen it poured, so he didn’t want it. The only time in the last four years he’d drunk something unseen was when Shane poured it. Even when he hadn’t known Shane from Adam’s housecat.
“I’d have got you something else, Len.” Shane’s fingers twined with his, then disappeared, then slid against his wrist.
“No, I was in the mood for whiskey.” He couldn’t really explain it to Shane here and now, because it would kill the mood. Definitely. He turned his hand to grasp Shane’s, fingers sliding against Shane’s palm. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
Hell, he’d never told anybody about Jack, and the drugs and the reason he just didn’t party the way he had anymore.
Shane nodded. “That works. Long stories are best naked in bed and…. Man, why would someone want a cockroach tattooed on them?”
He chuckled, bringing Shane’s hand up to kiss. God, he loved that easygoing way Shane had. “I don’t know. Takes a strong stomach.”
Those blue eyes caught him. “I don’t know, Len. I can’t see making something ugly on purpose.”
“All in the eye of the beholder, lover.” Galen thought about some of the tats his old football buddies had gotten in the name of sheer damn manliness and shook his head. He was glad when they called Shane in.
The little blonde was snapping on some gloves. “Off with the shirt, Cowboy. You want a matching ring, right?”
Shane nodded, unbuttoning his shirt, showing off that pretty chest, that one tight little pierced nipple. Galen all but sat on his hands. He wanted to touch. Bad.
“You two a thing?” She got Shane to sit back on a chair, pulling a tray over with a needle, ring, and a spray bottle.
“Yeah.” Shane grinned, nodded, shifted a little.
“Yeah.” Galen made it definite, giving Shane a look. Really, really a thing.
“Okay. Just like earlier. Gonna get that little nipple hard, clamp, pierce, ring. Then you’ll have a matched set.” The girl sprayed Shane with the bottle, then picked up a ballpoint pen, marked a dot on either side of Shane’s nipple. She looked at Galen, winked. “How’s that look, stud? They match?”
He looked, taking it damned seriously because the little chain he wanted to clip on them? Wouldn’t hang straight if they were uneven. “Yeah, they look good.”
“I tell you—there’s some great attachments for these.” She clamped Shane’s nipple, tugged a little. “Chains, rods, pretty dangly jewels.”
Galen sat back, crossed his ankle up over his knee. Might as well tease Shane a bit. “I was thinking a chain. We’ve got some clamps, and that looks amazing. Attached? Be even better.”
Shane’s eyes went wide, staring at him.
“Oh, yeah. We got weights—still and vibrating. There’s this one chain attaches to a cock ring? Very hot.” She unwrapped the needle.
Damn. Oh, damn. He might have to look at that. He looked right at Shane. “That sounds hot.”
“Yeah?” Shane was breathing hard, teeth biting that bottom lip.
“Hell, yes. With that belly? Pure sex. Okay, breathe in, Cowboy, and hold it.” Shane took a deep breath, closed his eyes. Galen shifted, cock twitching in his jeans. He watched Shane’s face, not the needle, wanting to see what it felt like. “Okay, now, let it all out.”
Shane exhaled, eyes flying open to meet his, shocked and hot and focused. Oh fuck. Shane was just…. Galen swallowed hard, hands clenching.
“Good boy. One more breath and you’re done.”
Shane was watching him, took another deep breath, cheeks flushed and dark.
“All right. You’re a natural.”
He certainly was. And Galen could only hope he hadn’t said that out loud. A quick clean and a squirt, and Shane stood to face him, little rings shining, nipples hard as little stones.
Galen put his hand up, touching Shane’s breastbone, right in between. God, he could feel the heat in Shane’s skin, just calling him. “You look amazing, darlin’.”
Shane’s heart was pounding, thrumming beneath his hand. Those pretty eyes shone. “Take me to the hotel, Len.”
The blonde chuckled, cleaning up. “Man, the pheromones pouring off you two might get me laid tonight.”
“Definitely gonna do it for me.” He spared her a glance. “Thanks, hon. It looks great.”
Then he got Shane’s shirt and pressed it at him, ready to throw the man over his shoulder and run, caveman style. Shane got it on and started fumbling with the buttons, fingers shaking hard. Slapping Shane’s hands away, Galen managed to get the shirt done up, his cock pushing and pushing. Damn, he wanted to put Shane up against the wall and fuck him senseless.
Shane’s fingers twined with his, and they started moving, damn near fucking running, heading for the hotel. They got there just in time. Galen was gonna bust if he couldn’t touch. The minute the door closed behind them, he had Shane up against it, ripping that damned shirt off so he could see. Feel.
Shane pushed into his hands, pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss that clicked teeth and bloodied lips. He was on fire. Shane’s face when that needle had gone through? Oh, fuck. Galen rubbed, humping against Shane, one hand pressing lightly against each nipple in turn. So fucking hot, so hard against his palm that he figured they’d leave marks, and Shane was groaning, pushing deep cries into his lips.
Yeah. God, that was wild. Galen fumbled with his other hand, trying to get their jeans open, laughing a little at how like that morning it was, humping against the door. Only this time he knew what was going on. And it was even better. Shane sucked in, then bucked as that puffed his chest up, rubbing them together.
“Fuck, Shane.” Galen gave up on the standing and hauled them to the bed, flinging Shane down on it and struggling with the clothes. He got Shane naked and started on his own, wanting all that skin against him.
Shane started pumping that hard prick, legs spread wide, watching him, driving hard. “Hurry. Hurry, love.”
“I am.” He was. His jeans went easy, his boots less so, and his shirt he just tore. Then he was on Shane, his own hand wrapping around Shane’s and squeezing, the hair on his chest catching on those little rings.
“Shit.” Shane leaned up, teeth bruising his shoulder, coming with hard, desperate jerks.
Galen grunted, surprised as anything, hips rocking down and down as he came seconds after Shane, feeling it all the way up his back. It exploded in his brain.
“Sorry. Sorry, love. Couldn’t fucking wait.”
He blinked. Tried to clear his head. “What in hell are you apologizing for?”
“Uh…. Not waiting. I th
ink. Shit. I dunno.” Shane laughed. “I think my brain’s broke.”
“Oh, good. It’s mutual.” They snuggled right up, sticky slick rubbing between their bellies. Galen pressed his lips to Shane’s throat. “I like the feeling.”
“Mm-hmm. Yeah.” Shane’s fingers tangled right up in his hair. “Fuck, yeah.”
He settled in, feeling lazy, the fire banked. For now. Those little rings promised a heck of a lot of entertainment later, though. “Love.”
“You know it, Len.” Shane nodded, held him close. “Still getting Band-Aids, though.”
Oh, hell no. Not if he had anything to say about it. And he would be sure he did. He wasn’t a stubborn, pushy bastard for nothing.
HOLY SHIT. His cock was fucking sore, and his balls? So falling off from sheer overuse.
The whole room smelled like sex and wine and the array of fucked-up finger food they’d ordered from room service. They were sitting, naked, lazy, half-tipsy, and feeding each other like a couple of Roman… toga-wearing guys.
He licked something sweet and a little spicy off Galen’s fingers. “Oh, man. That’s good. Honey-covered stud.”
“Cinnamon and Clove Shane. I could market it.” Galen kissed him hard, proving that one man would buy stock in it anyway.
“Mmm… your own personal vintage.” He had a sip of wine, offered his mouth to Len again.
“Mm-hmm.” Galen took the offer, tongue sliding in to taste. “So good.”
He nodded, fingers tracing little shapes on Len’s belly, dipping down to tug gently at the hair above that pretty prick.
“I think it’s dead, Shane.” Galen was laughing, nipping at his neck.
“No, shit. I’ll never get it up again.” He chuckled, rolled carefully to grab some grapes. Mmm… grapes. “Funny, isn’t it? How grapes taste so… grapey and wine doesn’t?”
“Yeah. Just like whiskey? Doesn’t taste a bit like rotten grain.”
“Yeah, or vodka and potatoes, although if you get bad vodka? You can kinda smell it.” He offered Len a grape, watched his lover chew. That was the finest mouth. “Oh. You were gonna tell me about the whiskey. Remember? Naked. Bed. Long stories.”