by Ellee Hill
“I still want your best moves, just, uh, in bed?”
“I bet they work even better horizontal.”
“I’m willing to be the guinea pig to find out.”
“That’s gracious, and kind of disturbing.”
Kyle grinned and grabbed Shane’s hand. “Bedroom is this way.”
SHANE’S body wasn’t sculpted, but it was lean and strong, and Kyle couldn’t stop running his hands over his chest and arms as they stood naked beside the bed. He looked up, grinning at Shane’s amused smile, and ducked his head to lick a nipple. Shane’s body jerked and he laughed, palming Kyle’s ass. “Tease.”
“Maybe.” Kyle sighed and wound his arms around Shane’s waist. They were touching everywhere, and it felt so damned good to be this close to another man. Skin to skin was heavenly. When Shane hugged him back, Kyle closed his eyes, cheek against Shane’s chest. Shane kissed the top of his head. “This is nice.”
“Feel like being wooed?”
“God, I would love to be wooed,” Kyle admitted. He’d been so crazy over Ray that he’d been a sure thing, and they’d gone from casual friends to fucking on every surface in one night. There hadn’t been that “getting to know you” part of dating; they’d known enough already. Or so he’d assumed. Kyle should have known it was too good to be true. He’d always been the one doing the pursuing, and now he was being pursued. It was a nice change.
“I’m ready to woo you. I think. I’ve read some books, watched a few chick flicks.”
“I’m not a girl.”
“I think the dick poking my thigh has made that pretty clear.”
Kyle looked up and Shane kissed his smile. They were both breathing hard by the time they pulled apart, and Kyle stepped closer to the bed. “Horizontal wooing?”
“My favorite kind.”
Kyle had no intention of playing the “who’s on top” game tonight. He definitely wanted in Shane’s ass, but more than that, he wanted to feel Shane inside of him. He didn’t care if he was on his knees, on his back, or hanging from the light fixture. He bit the inside of his lip to stop from laughing at that mental image as he shoved the covers out of the way and lay down, shivering a little at the cool sheets beneath him.
Shane lay beside him, head resting on his hand, the other hand smoothing down Kyle’s chest, belly, coming to rest just above his cock. “Can this be an abridged version of wooing?”
“The Cliff’s Notes version?”
“A trailer for what will come later?”
“Lube and condoms in the nightstand.” Kyle pushed Shane over so he could sit up and get them, hands shaking with anticipation. Dropping the condom on Shane’s chest, Kyle popped open the bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers. “I want the X-rated version of the trailer.” He lay back and pulled his knees up, reaching down to circle a wet finger at his hole. “You need instructions on what to do with that?”
Shane had sat up, the condom falling to the bed, to get a better look at Kyle prepping himself. He blinked and let out a long breath. “That’s so fucking hot.”
Kyle would have agreed verbally, but he was biting his lip as he slowly pushed in two fingers at once. He should have just used one of the plugs or a dildo, but he loved the way Shane couldn’t stop watching his hand move. The burn was so fucking worth it.
Suited up, Shane got to his knees and took the lube. “Can I help?”
Kyle had to clear his throat twice before he could say “Yes.” He pulled his fingers away and wrapped them around his cock. Shane knee-walked until he was between Kyle’s legs, spreading them wider, then he slid down and Kyle closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.
“Wooing is going to include eating you out, baby, you know that, right? Fuck me….” A thick finger dipped in, just enough for Kyle to want more, then pulled out.
“Who’s the fucking tease now?”
“No teasing, just testing the waters.”
“Waters are just fine, dive the fuck in, Shane!”
He received a bite to his inner thigh for that and yelped, trying to sound hurt and not start laughing like he wanted to, but then it didn’t matter when he was filled, slowly and steadily, with two fingers, thicker than his, and it bordered on pain until the brush over his prostate. “Like that, just….” He began to move with Shane, pressing his feet into the mattress and gripping the pillow with both hands.
“I won’t last a minute,” Shane groaned, pulling back and pushing back in. “How long has it been, Kyle?”
“Used toys and—”
“Fuck, stop. The fucking thought of you….” Shane began mouthing the inside of Kyle’s thigh, lower until Kyle was holding his breath and shaking, wanting Shane’s tongue there, dammit, but then there was nothing. The slick drag of his fingers leaving and then the awful emptiness. Kyle might have growled a little when he lifted his head to glare down at Shane.
“Hey!”
“You’d better be ready, because I am.” Shane pushed up to his knees and grabbed the lube.
Kyle nodded so hard he made himself dizzy. “Knees, back, what? How?”
“Knees?”
Kyle moved so fast he almost brained himself on the headboard, and a pillow fell off the bed. He expected to hear Shane laugh, but instead, two hands gripped his hips and yanked Kyle back, his knees skidding over the mattress. His heart raced and he fisted the sheets, head hanging. “Now?”
“Now. Fuck, tell—tell me if I—”
“You won’t. Just go slow.”
“Slow, yeah, right. Oh fuck.” That first nudge of Shane’s cock against his hole was glorious all because it was actually happening. His hot neighbor was about to fuck him. And it wasn’t a fantasy made up to jerk off to alone. Kyle let out his breath and made himself relax, pushing back, telling his body how much he wanted this, and then Shane was inside and it fucking burned. So. Good.
Shane didn’t stop until Kyle felt the press of his hips to his ass, and he buried his face in his pillow, not caring about breathing while his body adjusted to Shane. He was throbbing from the inside, pulses growing smaller, focusing on that hard cock filling him so perfectly, until all he knew was the need to move. Gasping, he pushed up, arms and legs shaking.
“Okay?”
Kyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, very okay.”
“Good.” That was all the warning Kyle got before Shane pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, nearly putting him face first into the pillow again, but Kyle just reached a hand out to brace against the headboard and said, “Like that, yes.”
It was a quick, hard, no-frills fuck that was going to leave a mark everywhere inside and out, and Kyle didn’t want it to end. They didn’t talk, but it didn’t matter. Their groans, pants, cries were enough to communicate how good it was. Shane’s hands moved from Kyle’s hips to his shoulders, rubbing down his back, once slapping his ass.
Kyle didn’t dare try reaching down to get himself off, trusting Shane to take care of it, so he wasn’t expecting it when Shane wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him up, hips still moving, until he was almost straddling Shane’s folded legs.
“Go for it, baby. Come on.”
Kyle cursed and let his head fall back to Shane’s shoulder, fisting his cock. It didn’t take long before he felt his orgasm rushing up, spilling over, Shane’s rhythm stuttering, then picking up again while Kyle rode the aftershocks, fingers gripping the arm around his chest. When Shane lost it, he bumped his head into Kyle’s, a soft, helpless noise barely reaching Kyle’s ears.
“I’M a slut.” Kyle stared up at the ceiling, heart finally beginning to slow down, sweat cooling on his chest and stomach.
“No, you’re not.”
“Total. Slut.” He kicked restlessly at the sheet they’d shoved down to the foot of the bed after using it to clean up.
“Maybe a little.”
“Hey!”
Shane laughed and rolled to his side to throw a leg over Kyle’s thighs, fingers threading through h
is hair to turn Kyle’s face toward him. “How about you were powerless against my sexual allure?”
Kyle considered it, then shook his head. “I need to own up to my faults.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Shane said, nuzzling Kyle’s cheek, “I love your sluttiness.”
“It doesn’t, but thanks.” Kyle grinned when Shane blew a raspberry on his shoulder.
“Idiot.” Shane rolled to his back and sighed. “So, what’s it going to be: do I stay the night here or in my own cold, lonely bed?”
Kyle sat up and leaned on one arm, smiling down at Shane who had his eyes closed, looking asleep and unconcerned. “What kind of slut would I be to kick you out after only one go?”
He watched Shane smile, though his eyes remained closed. He was about to lay back down, maybe get in a nap before round two, but Shane said, “I need to come clean about something.”
“Oh my God, you’re married.” Kyle fought a grin when Shane’s blue eyes snapped open.
“Seriously? That’s the first thing you think of?”
“What? I was being funny!”
“Uh huh.” Shane reached up and tweaked Kyle’s nipple, laughing when Kyle yelped and smacked his hand away. “I don’t feel bad about it, okay? I mean, if I hadn’t been watching, I might not have seen the fire, so….”
Kyle quickly sifted through Shane’s rambling and concluded: “You’re a peeping tom!”
“I’m a curious neighbor!”
“Peeping! Tom!” Kyle pointed for emphasis, conveniently not mentioning his own peeping through the hedges.
“I’m—you’re fucking hot, man! Just my type, and it was like, you live next door? You live next door in the neighborhood I thought was made up of all gossiping old hens and family-friendly bullshit?”
“For the record, the neighborhood is made up of gossiping old hens, Mr. Charm the old biddies for dirt on the guy you’re peeping on!”
Shane groaned and turned over to bury his face in the pillow. Kyle snickered and slapped his ass. “I knew I should have kept my mouth shut,” came the muffled moan.
“Spill it. What did you see?” Kyle tried to think about any time he’d done something embarrassing, but the list was too long. What the hell did Shane see in him? Maybe he had a thing for doe-eyed klutzes? Andy was going to laugh himself sick.
“Just you in the kitchen, sometimes. Or the backyard. Just when I was in the upstairs bathroom. Not like I had a pair of binoculars set up.” Shane turned his head to look at Kyle. “You weirded out?”
Kyle shook his head. “The lack of proper peeping equipment gives me hope.” Shane snickered and pinched Kyle’s hip. Kyle grabbed his hand. “Why didn’t you introduce yourself before?”
“I needed something, I couldn’t just….” Shane sat up, leaning on one hand, his other not letting go of Kyle’s. “You’re not like the guys I usually hook up with.”
“This is a hookup?”
“No! I want to… date?” Shane stared down at their hands and avoided Kyle’s eyes. “I’m really not good at this.”
“The talking part? Because you’ve got the sex part down pat, Shane.”
“Yeah?” Shane leered, and Kyle pushed him down to his back and leaned over him.
“Yeah. So, this is what we’re going to do.” He pressed a kiss to Shane’s lips and pulled back before Shane could respond. “You’re going to demonstrate some more of your prowess on me, then we’ll sleep, and tomorrow… we’ll figure it out.”
“I can do that.”
“See? Isn’t hands-on better than peeping?”
“Shut up, Kyle.”
ELLEE HILL is a native New Englander who has dreamed of seeing her stories in print ever since winning the Young Authors contest in the fourth grade. It was her love of books, and her father’s way with words, that began her journey into writing. A lover of travel, French fries, and Angry Birds, Ellee got over her fear of rejection by posting fan fiction while creating original works on the side. It’s thanks to the support of her friends and family, and their amazing examples of courage and determination, that she made that final push to get her first story published. When told the good news, her mother said happily, “Honey, it’s about damn time.” Ellee couldn’t agree more.
Ellee lives with her partner of 10 years and two cats who rule the household. She can found on twitter as @ellee_hill.
GREMLINS IN THE WORKS
Kiernan Kelly
I.
THE last straw came when the dishwasher tried to drown the kitchen. Globs of foamy suds bubbled out from the machine, flowing across the tiles like miniature white caps. Kevin half expected to see gremlins surfing across the kitchen floor on tiny, waxed boards.
Cowa-fucking-bunga, dude.
It had to be the work of gremlins. Jamison laughed at him, but Kevin was convinced the house was infested with the little buggers. Had to be. There was simply no other rational explanation for the run of bad luck plaguing them since the day they moved in. Seriously, their life had become the stuff of sitcoms.
They’d found the house quickly, after spending only a short time looking, very soon after making the decision to buy one together. Both had instantly fallen in love with the gabled roof, the white gingerbread trim, the great neighborhood and tree-lined street, the manicured lawns, and the well-below-market price. The realtor looked like she’d been torn straight out a copy of a 1950s Harper’s Bazaar, with her high heels, white gloves, and a very annoying habit of playing with the string of pearls at her neck to make a constant clacking sound, but the house was a gem.
It seemed almost too good to be true, and as it turned out, it was. Their luck ended almost before the ink was dry on the closing papers.
Their turn for the worse began on their first night under that new, much-touted gabled roof, when it sprung a dozen leaks during a freak rainstorm… right over their brand new, six-thousand-dollar mattress. One minute they were sleeping on a cloud and the next, they were drowning under their own personal version of Niagara Falls. There was so much water pouring in, Kevin was almost surprised their mattress didn’t float down the stairs and out the door.
Just a few days later, the blow dryer shorted out one of the bathroom outlets, causing a few sparks, a lot of smoke, and a seriously bad hair day for Jamison just in time for an important job interview. Unnerved by his close encounter with electrocution, smelling as if he’d spent the night smoking hams, and sporting a headful of wild frizz, he blew the interview like a twelve-dollar hooker.
After that, it was a steady stream of catastrophes, one after another, that would’ve made Irwin Allen, the King of 70s Disaster Movies, proud. Who needed Airport or The Poseidon Adventure when you had 733 Cherry Blossom Lane?
The garbage disposal ate a spoon and died an ugly, noisy death. A feral spring in the sofa made sitting on it akin to parking your butt on the business end of a cobra. The showerhead in the guest bathroom developed a fast drip. The kitchen faucet was so envious of it, it developed one of its own to match. A skunk decided their cat, Mr. Peepers, needed a splash of its own personal fragrance.
On a day when the temperatures soared into the upper nineties, the central air conditioning unit quit, and it took them two days to get a technician to come in and repair it. There was a bright side to that one, at least: they spent most of the time taking long, cool showers, which led to lots of hot, wet sex.
Then something in the refrigerator began to smell worse than the bathroom at the corner 7-Eleven convenience store, an odor they’d became intimately familiar with the week before when all three toilets in the house began to back up at once. It took a team of plumbers the better part of nine hours (and nearly eighteen hundred dollars) to fix the problem, during which time Kevin and Jamison made several trips to the 7-Eleven to use the stench-drenched facilities there. They never did find the source of the odor in the fridge, and ended up tossing it and buying a new one.
Which, of course, broke down the day after it was delivered. It took a wee
k and a half to get a replacement, and they lost almost three hundred dollars’ worth of groceries in the process.
In between these major calamities were a dozen or so smaller, though no less irritating, incidents.
For example, Jamison’s best silk tie went missing. He wanted it to wear to an interview that morning, and they wasted an hour tearing the house apart looking for it, but to no avail. The next day, Kevin found it under an azalea bush in the backyard while mowing the lawn. Or rather, the mower found it. Found it, ate it, and spat out the shredded remains.
When they were discussing the episode later that night, Kevin brought up the idea of gremlins for the first time. To his consternation, Jamison was not exactly open to the idea.
“Well, then how else do you explain finding your tie outside?” Kevin set his fork down and frowned across the table at Jamison. “In the backyard, under the fucking azaleas, no less! It sure as hell didn’t get up and walk out there by itself. I’m telling you, we have a gremlin problem, Jamie.”
“Please, Kev, be serious! There has to be some sort of reasonable explanation, but gremlins aren’t it.” Jamison speared a pork chop with his fork and plopped it down on his plate. “Maybe the tie stuck to your shoe and you just didn’t see it. You dragged it outside like a strip of toilet paper and just think you found it in the yard.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what happened. Even though we searched high and low for it yesterday and couldn’t find it, somehow my heel found it today, magically turned into Velcro, got it stuck tight, and dragged it outside, where it somehow came free and got wedged under the azaleas. Right. That’s plausible.” He shoved a forkful of green beans in his mouth and chewed, thinking. “Well, what about the television? How do you explain that?”
“Cable went out, or the set went on the fritz or something. That’s all.”
“And that would make every channel broadcast the same show at the same time?”
“I guess. Ask the cable company, not me.”