by Amy Lane
By the time the kiss was over, Adam had kicked off his jeans and peeled off Finn’s shirt and sweatshirt, and the two of them were fumbling with Finn’s belt and the buttons on his jeans.
Their fingers tangled more than once, and Finn laughed.
“Kk—let’s go get into bed, okay? One of the perks of being grown-ups is we don’t have to do this on living room furniture.”
Adam nodded, thinking about the pleasure of having Finn naked to explore.
Uncharted countries, unnamed wonders.
Adam got to the bed first and pulled down the covers, then sat, beckoning Finn between his spread thighs. He wanted to kiss his tummy, which was perfect. Well-defined muscle, nicely cut oblique muscles—but that wasn’t what drew Adam to it. The soft skin and the silky fur of the happy trail was Adam’s favorite part, and while he was undoing Finn’s belt and the top button on his jeans, he suckled mouthfuls of tender skin, delighting in Finn’s every gasp.
He shoved Finn’s jeans down perfunctorily—he was already lingering on the best parts. The jutting hipbones, the crease of his upper thigh, even the hairiness of his thighs and shins—Adam wanted to smooth his palms or his tongue over all of it.
But he hadn’t even gotten to Finn’s thighs before Finn tightened fingers in his hair and tilted his head back. “Adam, I swear to God, if you don’t touch my dick, I’m gonna lose it!”
Adam’s smile wasn’t sweet—he knew that. “Lose it. Go ahead. Come all over my face. I’m hard again. This isn’t done by a long shot.”
“Nungh….”
But Adam took pity on him, engulfing the long, pale cock with his mouth, closing his eyes at the taste. Oh, man. He’d been good at this—great, if his demand as a covert companion was anything to judge by—but he’d never really loved it until now. Finn made another wordless begging sound, and Adam responded, licking the head, squeezing the shaft, using his other hand to knead Finn’s backside and tease his cleft.
Unplanned, his dry fingertip made contact with Finn’s pucker, and Finn whined.
“Lubricant—let me get my backpack.”
It was good Finn had some—Adam didn’t. He’d spent all his money on a cat and a new sketchbook.
Finn tore himself away and Adam shivered, scrambling under the covers in the brightly lit room. Finn’s absence suddenly reminded him of all he was without shadows and warmth. Easy. Needy. Desperate. Despised.
By the time Finn got back, Adam was a heartbeat away from throwing on some clothes and pretending it had never happened.
But Finn had taken off his pants completely. He was naked, pale, his skin tinged pink and blotching, probably from arousal.
“Good idea,” he said, hustling for the blankets and scrambling in. “God, is your thermostat on a timer or something? It’s cold in here!”
And the feel of him, smooth skin, hairy shins, cold hands tickle-biting on Adam’s ribs—sweet, natural, unforced, unjudging. Adam wrapped his arms around Finn’s shoulders and covered that slender smaller body with his own.
“We’ll keep each other warm,” he murmured into the hollow of Finn’s neck and shoulder.
Finn shuddered and shoved the lube into his hand. “I brought rubbers too,” he said, gasping as Adam nibbled on his collarbone. “But I’m tested, you’re tested….”
“I’ve never not used one,” Adam mumbled, wondering if he shouldn’t anyway. What if he shot come inside Finn’s body and the bad parts of Adam, the parts that had hid under the bed in the guest room, the parts that had given it up for anyone who asked—what if those parts got Finn dirty?
“Good,” Finn said, locking his lips around Adam’s nipple and sucking hard before releasing it with a pop. “I’ll be your first.”
“Like starting again?” Adam asked, all of it, the apartment, the job, the dumb kitten, the boyfriend who seemed to think he was something—all of it—sliding into place around him in that moment.
“Yeah,” Finn said, not conscious of the seven sorts of havoc he’d just wrought. He sat up then and straddled Adam, gesturing imperiously for the lube. “Gimme.”
Adam handed it to him and Finn reached behind him. Adam watched in awe as he fingered himself, his face contorting, and Adam could feel it for him: Stretch, stretch, ouch… oh… oh… yes!
Finn moaned softly, his head back, and then he grasped Adam’s cock behind his back and….
“Oh God!”
Slowly, smoothly, Finn lowered himself, and Adam threw his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Finn’s body was tight and hot, and it clenched all of Adam’s nerve endings in exactly the right places.
Finn sank down until he was sitting on Adam’s hips, and Adam’s vision went dark.
“Oh Jesus…. Finn….”
“Oh my God—Adam!”
Finn pushed up and sat down again, and Adam oolfed because… oh man….
“Adam, look at me,” Finn commanded, and Adam opened his eyes as Finn began to rock forward and back, forward and back. “It’s good?” he asked anxiously.
Adam managed to clench his stomach. “It’s amazing. Oh God. I need… harder… faster….” Not wanting to let Finn’s warmth go, he clasped the lean meat of Finn’s ass tightly and rolled them over. Finn grabbed his thighs accommodatingly, spreading himself open, and Adam looked down at their joining. “You’re so hot,” he muttered thickly, thinking it sounded shallow, but his whole body was hot, lit up inside by Finn’s beauty and his sexiness and the way he needed the most primal part of Adam inside of him.
“Augh! Adam… need. Need you. Need!”
Adam couldn’t deny him anything he needed.
He cocked his hips back and slammed forward, and Finn closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and screamed “Yes!”
Adam did it again.
God, again and again and again, and the sex blush blotching Finn’s chest, shoulders, and throat got darker and sexier. Adam dripped with sweat, his heart clenching with desire and want. Finn was breath and heat and pain and fierce, biting joy, and Adam wanted it, wanted it, chased the core of Finn with his orgasm. Finn scrabbled for the sheets with one hand and scrambled for his cock with the other. He found his cock first and squeezed, begging “Fuck me!” loud enough to startle the dog, who started barking in the living room.
For once, Adam didn’t give a damn.
He threw himself into it, fucking Finn in a frenzy, until Finn’s cock burst white spend over them both, far and hard. Some of it caught Adam on the chin, and he licked it off. Hell, he was so ravenous for Finn he yearned to lick it from Finn’s stomach, from his dick, from his chest and throat.
The thought of doing that, of sucking Finn’s cock, of licking him all over, rimming him, used and dripping, all of it, along with Finn’s breathless sex screams, sent Adam over.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
He lost himself. Blasted outside his body with his come, floated through into Finn, saw himself from the outside, from Finn’s eyes, drenched with sweat, eyes squeezed shut, muscular body heaving, the cords on his neck popping out.
He was beautiful.
Inside Finn, he was beautiful.
The revelation leveled him, sent himself back inside his lightning-struck body, and he collapsed, shuddering, into Finn’s arms.
Pretty Pictures, Pretty Words
HE’D NEVER lost time after sex before, but he must have. He woke up and Finn was washing off his cock, the warm cloth both abrasive and arousing. He sighed and arched his hips, massaging Finn’s scalp through his hair.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying hard to focus. The cloth scraped the tenderness of his cockhead, the mess of his pubic hair, and then gently cradled his balls.
“For what?” Finn said softly. “For being a good lover?”
“Was I?” Adam asked, suddenly desperate to hear it.
“You were wonderful,” Finn murmured, kissing his thigh gently. He set the cloth on the end table and pulled up so they were eyeball to eyeball. Adam must have been out longer than he’d tho
ught, because when they’d gone stumbling for the bedroom, every light in the apartment was on, and now the place was dark.
“So were you,” Adam said, brushing Finn’s cheek with his thumb. “You’re fearless.”
“I’ve never been hurt,” Finn said baldly. “It’s easy to be fearless when you don’t think anything can hurt you.”
“I hurt you,” Adam admitted.
Finn shook his head. “No. I mean, you would have if you’d kept it up. But I still had lots of hope. But if you back away again now?”
Oh. “Hurt.”
Finn nodded and swallowed. “Really, really bad.”
Adam understood. “I will never hurt you,” he promised. “Not if I can possibly help it.”
“It means you’re going to have to be brave,” Finn told him soberly. “It means you’re going to have to believe.”
Adam closed his eyes on the words, let them ricochet around his soul for a breath or two. “I’ll do my best,” he said after a moment. “Can you risk it?
“I already am.”
Adam kissed him then, deep, intense, satisfying. His body gave a throb, and Finn wrapped his leg around Adam’s hip in another effort to crawl inside his skin. Well, they were taking a leap of faith to risk their hearts anyway—they might as well enjoy the high.
ADAM WAS a little bit tired but very energized when he went to work the next day. He smiled quietly and worked with great industry—and ignored the suspicious looks from his coworkers.
Around midday, he was dealing politely with a man in a suit who was buying Candy Heaven’s logoed canvas bags for his entire office. The man surprised him by pointing to the picture hanging behind the register. It was the one Adam had given Darrin two weeks earlier, the thank-you for the job and for the hope.
“That’s fun!” the guy said. “Do you know the artist?”
Adam smiled slightly. “Yeah. Me.”
“Really? What are you doing working here with that kind of talent?”
Adam scowled. “It’s a great place to work. It just might get me through school.”
The guy held up his hands. “Sorry—didn’t mean to offend.” He smiled rakishly. He had the kind of sandy-haired, blue-eyed American-boy good looks that probably helped him get out of a lot of trouble.
“Just….” Adam looked around at the holiday crowds, most of whom were just plain happy to be there. “It’s a good place,” he said earnestly.
“Yeah. I can see that. And you’re a good artist.” He arched two sand-colored eyebrows almost seductively, and Adam sort of wished he was Clopper, who could unapologetically sniff someone’s crotch and tell you if he was all good. “So, do you want a job?”
Adam narrowed his eyes. “Depends on what kind of job. I got a boyfriend who’d object to one kind of job but who wouldn’t mind if I did some art for you.”
The sheepish, human smile of rejection reassured him. “Well, I guess there goes asking you out for dinner. But would you still want to do some caricatures of my office staff? I’ve got sort of a good group. I was going to give them Christmas candy, but a hand-drawn portrait, even a quickie—that would be something.”
Adam gaped at him and remembered how Finn had needed to bring the lube because Adam spent most of his pre-Christmas check on buying a new sketchbook and adopting a cat. “That would…. Uhm, tell me where you work. I get off at four.”
“Don’t you even want to know how much I’d be willing to pay?”
Adam never claimed to be a businessman. “Whatever you pay me, it will be more than I got now to get my boyfriend a gift,” he said baldly. Sketch paper wasn’t the only art supply he was running low on either. He grimaced at the thought. “But maybe tomorrow after work or during lunch—I’ve got to bring my supplies.”
The guy squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Here’s my card—give me a call; we’ll set up a time. I’ll have you come in, introduce folks—I’ve got six employees. I’ll tell them you’re a client. Then you get back to me in a week?”
Adam nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. That’ll be good.” Oh God. Absolutely not. He couldn’t get to know people that quickly. “But, uhm, could I bring my boyfriend? He’s better at the people stuff.”
“Tell him to look up pricing for this sort of thing too,” the guy said, still looking at Adam in disbelief. “Because one of you needs to be better at the business stuff.”
The guy headed for the door, and Darrin caught his eye and arched his eyebrow. He got a second look, and then a third, and then Darrin got a business card too, and the guy got a suggestion to have a very sweet day.
Then Darrin parked his bossy ass in front of Adam’s now empty counter and said, “Dish.”
“He’s got an art job for me to do.”
“Excellent. Don’t I pay you enough?”
Adam grimaced. “I want to get something for Finn.”
Darrin wrinkled his fine, straight-arched nose. “Honey, Finn doesn’t need something expensive.”
“But he does need something.”
“If you say so,” Darrin grudged. “But you and people? You barely talk to us, and we’re going on four weeks now.”
Adam sighed. “Yeah, that’s why I’m bringing him.”
Darrin could make an insouciant shrug look damned sexy. “Okay, okay, he’s your boyfriend—”
And Adam was compelled to speak the truth. Was that what you did in heaven, even Candy Heaven? “It’s a chance to make money doing something I love,” he said. “It’s like, while I’m waiting to hear from schools, it gives me a chance to hope.”
Darrin’s expression softened, became sincere. “Well then, I’m pretty sure Finn will be more than happy. It was a good idea.”
Adam preened, because Darrin seemed to love what he was doing, and maybe he’d know all about good ideas.
Finn was overjoyed. Seriously thrilled—he even did that jump-in-the-air fist-pump-to-the-sky thing that had captivated Adam so much.
“But why am I coming again?” he asked after Adam explained the setup.
It was hard to say—Adam thought he might swallow his tongue.
“I need help,” he confessed after trying to make his mouth work. “I can’t do this one by myself, and… you know. Money for Christmas is good.”
Finn smiled sweetly. “You don’t have to get me anything,” he said. Adam didn’t know if it was just the late-afternoon twilight coming off the river or the way Finn glowed from the inside out, but he always looked radiant, even when they’d both worked an eight-hour shift and were strolling slowly down the boardwalk.
“Yeah, but I want to get you….” Adam stopped, thinking about a Finn or Jake fleece kigurumi, or a new SUV that was a little cooler and used less gas than the minivan, or an apartment of their own when Rico came back, and a cat and a dog that were theirs to keep, and….
“What?” Finn asked, blinking those Finn-blue eyes at him.
“The world,” Adam said simply, and Finn laughed.
“Well, all I want for Christmas is Adam,” he said, nuzzling Adam’s cheek as they walked.
“Okay. Well, that’s all I got right now, so we’ll have to make do with it.”
Finn laughed and started to plan dinner after Clopper’s walk, and for the first time, Adam thought that maybe he was good enough, and that if he was what they had to make do with, then he was up to the task.
But that didn’t keep him from planning after he went into Derek Huston’s office (that was the flirty guy with the business card) and talked to all the nice people who thought he was an investment client (hah!) and then drew their pictures. Huston cut him a nice check—Finn must have quoted a bigger price than Adam had in mind—but after Adam used it for a big bag of Clopper’s food and his art supplies, he still didn’t have much to shop with.
So he sat on it. He sat on the check and pondered, and worked his job, and lived his life—with Finn in it. Finn pretty much moved all his clothes into Rico’s apartment over the next week, and Adam didn
’t object. He learned what it was like to wake up next to someone, and how sometimes they stole the blankets and sometimes they took way too long to have their morning BM and sometimes they woke you with a mouth on your cock, which made up for a lot of the other inconveniences. There was sex on tap—but more than that. There was a sweet touch on his hip when he was making dinner or a chattering voice telling him about Finn’s day when they were walking Rico’s oversize dog. There was a bouncy kid throwing a ping-pong ball for the comatose cat, sure that one day Jake would learn how to fetch, and a kind adult when….
When the Christmas card Adam sent his mom was returned with “No faggots allowed” scrawled on the back.
Finn didn’t act like a grown-up then—he ripped up the card and flushed it down the toilet and swore over it. Then he hugged Adam and cried, and Adam spent an hour calming him down and telling him that the world wasn’t like his parents, but Adam would never, ever let someone hurt Finn like the world had hurt Adam.
Finn looked up from that and hiccupped. “I’m crying for you, you dumbass. And I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”
“You already protected me,” Adam said, wiping Finn’s cheek with his roughened thumb. “Just now. When you got mad for me. Took all the hurt away, baby. Mission accomplished.”
Finn smiled like the sun, and that took some more hurt away too.
And Adam thought harder for something to give him.
In the end, all he could think of was something that might hurt him more, but that, for Finn, would be beyond price.
HE AND Finn were going to volunteer at the shelter on Christmas Day and then going to Finn’s family’s place afterward, but Christmas Eve was theirs. Adam had the feeling that the family probably gathered on Christmas Eve too, but Finn was sparing him, and he was grateful. Finn told him to expect a present, and Adam had bought—with his employee discount—a small basket of wrapped sweets, with one of those very cool tins in the shape of R2-D2, which would be appropriate to bring to someone’s house.