No Regrets

by Sean Michael

  It was like a fucking dream.

  He rolled up, hole wrapping around the tip of Drake's prick. Dee's mouth opened but no sound came out as he slowly filled Scott up. Oh, hell yes. Scott moaned, shuddering with the pure pleasure of it.

  "You... I..." Dee shook his head and started to move, slowly pulling out and then shoving back in with a cry and a jerk.

  "Uh-huh. Again." Again. He needed. Wanted. Loved. Fuck.

  Dee nodded, and thrust again, then once more, each movement more graceful, more sure than the last until Dee found his rhythm, hips pushing and snapping, fingers holding on tight, Dee's cock going nice and deep. He kept encouraging, begging, letting Dee know how much he liked it, needed it.

  "Oh God, Scott." Dee's face was pure pleasure, eyes so wide as one thrust followed another.

  "Yeah. Yeah, honey. More." He was gonna fucking lose it.

  "More?" Dee shifted to one arm, hand wrapping around Scott's cock and jacking him. "Like this?"

  "Uh. Uh. Uh-huh. Fuck!" He just lost it, humping and grunting and letting himself take all he needed.

  "Scott. Oh, fuck, Scott. Scott." Dee went wild, and their bodies slapped together noisily. "Oh, God, I'm... Scott!"

  No, turkey, you're Dee. I'm Scott. He'd've said it aloud, if he had a single breath.

  Dee jerked into him, coming hard.

  His own orgasm came about ten seconds later, his eyes rolling back in his head, fingers dragging Dee closer.

  Dee collapsed down onto him, skin damp, breath panting hotly against his neck. "Wow, that was... Wow."

  "Uh-huh." He kissed Dee's temple, humming softly.

  Dee chuckled and wriggled, cock sliding inside him. That had Dee groaning. "Oh man."

  "Mmhmm. Do that again." He squeezed, let Drake feel it.

  It earned him a jerk, Dee's cock moving inside him again. "Oh, Christ, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning," Dee told him, tongue sliding over his neck.

  "Close enough." They still had three days 'til Christmas.

  Dee laughed out loud, the sound bright and good.

  "Mmm. Love that sound." He did. Loved the sound. The man.

  "Yeah? I've laughed a lot since coming here." He could feel Dee grinning against his neck. "Which either means I never used to laugh enough or you're one hell of a funny guy."

  "Maybe both. In fact, both sounds like a great answer."

  Dee nodded. "Yeah, it does."

  They lay together like that for a while, Dee sighing as his softening cock slid away.

  "Love you, honey." The words slipped out before he even thought.

  Drake went stiff, and then relaxed against him with another soft sigh, body pushing close. "Thank you." A soft kiss was pressed to his skin. "Thank you."

  He stroked Drake's back, relaxing into the mattress, melting. Oh, man. Good.

  "So I guess that means you don't mind if I horn in on your holidays."

  "No. I don't mind at all." Hell, he'd been sort of hoping.

  "Cool." He could feel Dee's smile against his skin and the man pushed even closer, like Drake was trying to melt right into him. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a good one."

  Scott just nodded. Yeah, it just might be at that.

  Chapter 3

  Drake had spent the last God only knew how many Christmases in hotel rooms, in the middle of appearances, tours, and whatnot. Hell, the last few the only reason he'd known it was Christmas at all was because everything was closed.

  This year was different.

  This year he didn't have to hide who he was or spend the day alone. There was a tree in the living room, some simply amazing smells coming from the kitchen, and he was at the piano singing carols for the man who loved him.

  Shit, he didn't think he could have come up with a better Christmas present if he'd sent it off in a letter to Santa.

  Chuckling, he played the first few bars of "Joy to the World" and then began to belt it out.

  He could hear Scotty, singing along, just as out-of-tune and happy as could be. He went through a few more and then stopped in favor of sipping on the eggnog Scotty'd left sitting on a coaster on top of the piano.

  Oh, it was spiked. Perfect.

  Getting up, he wandered into the kitchen, the good smells intensifying. Scotty was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, and a bright yellow apron with "Kiss The Cook" on it. Drake stopped in the doorway a moment, just taking it all in, from the scents, to the sights, to the fact that he felt good all the way to his bones.

  "Hey, honey. You want some cheese ball? It's got bacon." A little tray was pushed over to him, filled with a ton of little odds and ends--crackers and veggies and olives and a cheese ball.

  "Oh, munchies. Too cool."

  He helped himself to some of the cheese ball, digging into it with each of the different crackers to see which one tasted best. Unfortunately it was the one that crumbled the most under the strain of dragging through the cheese ball, but he figured Scotty'd had his cock in that beautiful mouth, the man wasn't going to mind if he used his fingers to pick up cheese ball and cracker bits.

  "You go all out like this every year?" he asked, watching in amazement at all the stuff that Scotty was preparing. He'd kind of gotten over being surprised every time Scotty proved that he knew how to cook, but this was all that on a whole new level.

  "I used to. I haven't in a while." He got a grin, a wink. "You?"

  "I usually order a bottle of Jack and a burger from room service." Which made it sound pretty pathetic and he hadn't asked in order to hound some sympathy out of Scotty, so he snagged another cracker and scooped up some more of the cheese ball, popping it into Scotty's mouth.

  "Uhn." Scotty moaned, leaning right into him.

  He leaned right back, arms wrapping around Scotty and tugging the man in a little closer. "Merry Christmas," he murmured, saying it for what had to be the fifth or sixth time today.

  "Mmhmm. It is. Merry merry." Scott looked happy as hell, cheeks flushed, eyes all lit up.

  He pressed their lips together, tongue sliding between Scott's, slipping into the delicious heat of Scott's mouth. Groaning, he pushed their hips together, electricity seeming to flow between his mouth and cock.

  "Hungry man. I'm cooking." Scotty didn't really seem to be complaining.

  "You can't take a break?" he asked, rubbing his hips in circles against Scotty's thigh. God, the man was sexy. And hot.

  "You'll have to help after." Scott grinned, nibbled along his jaw.

  "If you're willing to risk my burning your potatoes, I'm happy to help." He tilted his head up, giving that hungry mouth access to more skin.

  "They're our potatoes, Rock Star." Scotty's teeth dragged and stung, making him moan.

  "Sure. Whatever." As long as Scotty didn't stop, he'd agree with and to just about anything.

  His fingers, cold from playing as long as he had, wound their way beneath Scotty's sweater and T-shirt, finding the smooth, warm skin waiting for him.

  "Mmmhmm." Scott shuddered, pressed closer.

  "We should move this somewhere," he murmured as Lady came up behind him and bumped her nose against his butt.

  "Somebody's jealous." Yeah, either that or she wanted to lick Scotty's fingers.

  "Well, frankly, I'd rather have your face in my butt instead of hers." He winked and started heading backward, keeping half an eye out for Lady, making sure she didn't trip him up. There was a lovely couch in the living room with the tree. No reason for them not to use it.

  Scott followed easy, nibbling and licking as they went. God, he loved the way Scott made love, like the man wanted to devour him.

  They made it to the living room without tripping over anything or anyone, and Drake fell back onto the couch, pulling Scotty down on top of him. The solid weight felt so good.

  "Mmm. Hey." Scott straddled him, lips warm and swollen where they clung to his.

  He hummed, hips pushing up to rub against Scott. "Hey." He met Scott's eyes, held them. "I want...you."

  "Yeah? Y
ou know you got me, yeah?"

  He nodded. That he knew. It kind of blew his mind. "That wasn't what I meant though. I meant. You know...in me."

  "Merry Christmas to me?" Scott stroked his jaw, his face. "You sure, honey? I wouldn't do anything you don't want to."

  He nuzzled into the touches, each one of them making him that much more certain. "I saw your face when I did you, Scotty. I want to."

  "Mmm. You felt like heaven, Dee. Just where I needed you." Scott started working his buttons open, fingers teasing his skin.

  He pushed up into the touches, breathing deeply. "It was good for me, too." Good. He almost snorted at himself. "Amazing." God, just thinking about it had him hard, his ass clenching and releasing at the thought of Scotty inside him like that.

  "Get naked for me, honey. I want to touch."

  He could do that. He could so do that. He lifted himself up long enough to pull his shirt off, and then pushed his hands between his body and Scotty's, working the zipper of his jeans down. "You get naked, too."

  "You think? Apron and all?"

  He grinned, fingers sliding over the words. "If I didn't think it would impede the process I'd suggest you keep it on."

  Oh, man. That laugh was worth a million bucks.

  He arched, worked his jeans down off his hips. God, the way that rubbed them together was worth another million.

  "You going to let me lick you, honey? Get you wet for me?"

  Shit, he loved that, loved how that drawl sounded so sweet and was so fucking filthy.

  He nodded, breath caught in his throat. "P...please."

  "Mmmhmm. Been wantin' this, so bad."

  Damn, that made him feel so good. Scotty always did, like he was something special, precious. "All yours, Scotty. Sorry I didn't wrap it."

  "I'll take it." Scott spread him, scooted back between his legs, mouth on his belly and moving south.

  He spread his legs wider, showing Scott he wanted it, that he trusted Scotty. One of his hands found Scott's hair, the other found the edge of the couch and hung on.

  Those lips moved down and down, one cheek rubbing against his shaft. Oh, God. Yes. So fucking good. He couldn't have stopped his hips pushing, sliding his cock along Scotty's face even if he'd wanted to.

  He didn't want to.

  A low note came out of him, heartfelt, wanton.

  "So fine." Scotty hummed and slid down, tongue sliding along the base of his cock, the top of his ball sac.

  He was nearly trembling with anticipation, that tongue so good and so hot and moving down on him, not getting distracted at all. He made a needy noise, throwing one leg over the top of the couch, tilting his hips.

  Scott's fingers slid under his ass, thumbs spreading him for that. Oh. Oh, Jesus. Yes. That was. Damn. He grabbed onto the cushions with both hands, noises coming out of him like he couldn't believe. But Scotty's tongue. He just... God.

  Scott took his time, licking and nuzzling and lapping, pushing in to fuck him before backing off again, licking away. It blew his mind, each lick, each push of that tongue into his body. Scotty's tongue in him.

  Good fucking lord.

  He started humping against Scotty's face, hips moving on their own, pushing him toward the amazing touches. All the while, Scott was making these sounds, deep and raw and needy, like this wasn't good for him.

  "Scotty. Oh fuck, man." He was going to come from this. Any second now, each sound vibrating through his skin like the sounds themselves were right inside him, and there had to be room for more.

  "Now, honey? Let me?" That heat disappeared, replaced by an even bigger heat, pressing against his hole.

  He nodded, made a sound that meant yes and please and oh fuck he couldn't believe this was real. He met Scotty's eyes, fingers sliding on one stubbled cheek.

  "Love you, honey. Swear to God." Scott looked at him like he was the center of the whole fucking world.

  He felt that all through him, better than even Scotty's tongue had been.

  "Love..." he whispered.

  Then he shifted, hips restless, bumping that heat up against his hole, which made him gasp. "Come on, Scotty. Do it."

  He got a nod and then Scotty started pushing in, slow and easy, rocking into him. Scotty's rhythm was easy to find--it was like making music--and he rolled his hips to meet the pushes, eager for each and every sensation, even the burn as Scotty stretched him wider than he'd ever thought possible.

  "You good? Not hurting?" Scotty was shaking, muscles all tight as boards.

  Swallowing, he nodded. It was almost too much and every time it seemed like Scotty was going to stop outright, he just about broke. "Just do it," he ground out.

  Scott nodded and that heavy cock sank in deep, spreading and spearing him, stretching him so deep.

  "Oh fuck!" He panted, hands grabbing hold of Scotty's arms and holding on as his body rippled--fucking rippled--around the hard flesh buried deep inside him.

  "Yeah. Yeah. More, honey." Scott drove into him, over and over.

  He couldn't believe how good it was, his cock jerking every time Scott's pushed deep. And then Scotty shifted and this time everything lit up inside him, making him shout out, his shoulders coming up off the couch.

  "Yeah. Yeah. Right there, honey." Scott hit it again and again.

  Drake screamed, come shooting up over his chest as his whole body shook with it.

  "Fuck..." Scott groaned, head on his shoulder, hips pistoning.

  He grabbed Scotty's ass, encouraging him. "Come on now, Scotty. Give it to me."

  "Dee..." Scotty whimpered, jerked, shooting.

  "Scotty, I felt that..." He slid his hands up along Scotty's back, fingers sliding on the sweat-slick skin. "Merry Christmas to us."

  "Hell, yeah. The best."

  Yeah. Yeah, and maybe the first of many.

  He smiled, held onto Scotty, watching the way the lights from the tree reflected in Scotty's eyes.

  * * * *

  They couldn't stay on the couch forever and eventually Scotty needed to get up and poke and prod the bird in the oven. The man got dressed again, and Drake pouted when Scotty wouldn't agree to wear just the apron. Of course one enthusiastic sniff at Scotty's butt by Lord, and Drake figured Scotty'd made the right decision.

  Drake puttered a bit, helped set the table, played another tune on the piano, ate more cheese ball and olives while Scotty did something mysterious with sweet potatoes.

  He hummed a little tune, the song that had spawned a half dozen more. All since he and Scotty'd become lovers. Scotty and this place, they eased him, let everything else fall away so he could hear that creative spark inside him.

  Maybe that's why he was drumming his fingers on the table, avoiding looking at the phone that hung on the wall. He knew he should call Molly and wish her a Merry Christmas. She was a good assistant. Hell, it was thanks to her he'd been able to just drop everything and come here, she deserved at least a "have a good one" and a reminder to give herself a big bonus this year.

  Still, he hated to let the outside world intrude. His knee started going, matching the tapping of his fingers.

  "Make your phone call, Dee. Then we can eat some more." Scotty's lips brushed his temple, mustache tickling.

  "Yeah, yeah." He got up, eyeing the phone like it was the spawn of Satan or something--which it might have been.

  Leaning against the counter, he put the receiver to his ear and dialed Molly's cell, eyes still watching Scotty as he puttered. Damn that man was sexy.

  The phone only rang twice before Molly answered. "Drake Peter Rawlings if that is you and not the police informing me where to come identify the body, you'd better make them your next call because I am going to hunt you down and kill you."

  He winced. She was mad. Well, he kind of figured she might be as he'd not called at all 'til now, but he'd been hoping it being Christmas might have mitigated things some. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Molly."

  She harrumphed at him. "Do you know how long it's been since you le
ft?"

  "Um...a few weeks?"

  "Six. Almost seven. That's nearly two months without a single call, a single fax, a single anything to let me know you're alive."

  "I told you I needed some time off, Molly." He could feel his spine getting stiff, his muscles starting to tense up.

  "Do you have any idea what the papers are saying?"

  "I haven't read a newspaper since the day I left the office." It was true. He didn't even know if Scotty'd read any, and Drake hadn't asked.

  "Half of them are saying you're dead, the other half are saying you're in rehab. And they keep calling here. The label keeps calling here. Everyone wants to know where you are!"

  "And what do you tell them?"

  "No comment." She snapped the words off and Drake could hear her telling the reporters just like that with that little disdainful tone. "The label's threatening to fire you if you don't call them back, Drake."

  Oh, he didn't think so. He shook his head. "They can't do that. I have a contract. I have to deliver one more album to them before the end of next year, and tour for that album. Every other bit of dog and pony show they've had me do is icing on the fucking cake. You tell them that they should go right ahead and fire me and I'll see them in court when my lawyer wipes the fucking floor with them for breach of contract." He knew it wasn't her fault, but he couldn't help yelling at her. Goddamn, those people would suck him dry if they could.

  Scotty's hands landed on his shoulders, strong as hell, working the tension right out of him. "Breathe, honey."

  Oh, fuck, that felt good, and he relaxed back into the touch, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Molly. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just... I needed to get away. I needed this. I'm sorry if I worried you."

  "I wasn't worried at first. But when two weeks became three and then four and then Christmas... I just expected you to check in with me at least."

  "Well, I've checked in now, does that count?"

  "I suppose it'll have to. And I am glad you aren't really dead. Though I was starting to believe those tabloids myself!"

  "I'm sorry. I'm all right. I'm better than all right--I'm really pretty good. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."