by Austin Bates
The kiss should have been a surprise, but it felt like he'd been waiting for it for his whole life. He moaned, leaning into the soft, hot lips pressing against his. His hands trembled, itching to touch.
They broke apart when his lungs burned, but he couldn't bring himself to go far. He pressed his forehead against Damien's chin, breathing in the rich smoke smell that clung to Damien at all times. "Tell me we can do that again."
"I insist," Damien said, his voice hoarse. He cupped Tommy's chin and angled his head just right for another kiss, pulling them together so tightly that Tommy could feel every twitch of muscle. He ground himself on the hard cock rubbing against his hip, and Damien growled, nipping at his lips.
The real world intruded, the phone in the main shop ringing. Tommy tensed, listening to Anne tell the caller their hours in a bored voice. "Wait," he said, turning his head as Damien tried to pull him back into the kiss. "Wait."
Damien pulled back, his eyes wary, and Tommy wanted to kiss him until he smiled again.
"Not here," he said, unable to resist running his lips along the stubble of Damien's jaw. "It's a health code violation."
"You're serious," Damien said, his eyebrows arching toward his hairline.
Tommy knew it sounded ridiculous, but he also didn't want this interrupted. "Come home with me," he whispered against Damien's neck, raking his teeth along the pulse there.
"Fuck." Strong hands clutched at Tommy's hips as Damien tilted his head back. "Fine," he said, "but we're taking my truck."
"Deal."
Anne agreed to lock up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity that Tommy was going to have to deal with. The thought flew out of his head as he climbed into the passenger seat and was kissed senseless.
"Seatbelt," Damien said smugly as he started the car.
Melted against the seat, Tommy couldn't find it in himself to do anything but smile.
He thought they weren't going to make it to the bedroom this time. Damien ripped off his shirt the minute they were through the door, pressing Tommy up against the wall as he nipped at his lips. Tommy couldn't catch his breath, the hot fingers that crept across the sensitive skin just above his belt making him whine.
Tommy couldn't stand the think cotton barrier between him and those amazing hands, so he pulled his shirt off, letting it puddle on the floor. He sank his teeth into Damien's lip as the big alpha pinched his nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
"Bed," he gasped, and Damien laughed.
Catching his hand, Tommy pushed away from the wall, leading him toward the comfortable bed that he'd spent a small fortune on for this exact purpose. Damien didn't move. When Tommy glanced back, his breath caught.
Damien's eyes were glued to the skin of Tommy's back, clearly visible in the light from the front hallway. He didn't say a word, but his hand stroked up Tommy's spine, tracing the lines of the branches of the tree. Tommy pressed against his touch, his eyes sliding closed.
The next thing he knew, Damien was kissing him, his tongue hot and agile as it teased at the sensitive areas of the roof of his mouth. His lips stroking and tugging until all he could do was hold on.
"So fucking beautiful," Damien said as they stumbled into the bedroom.
Tommy’s foot caught on the edge of a shirt puddled on the floor, and he fell back onto the bed. Damien chased after his lips, pinning him to the rumpled blankets and nibbling his lips until Tommy opened for him.
Sliding his hands up under Damien’s shirt, Tommy groaned at the electric shock of smooth skin and radiating heat. He traced one of the scars under his fingertips with a fingernail, and Damien growled against his lips. Smiling into the kiss, he did it again.
Damien pulled back to pull his shirt off, his eyes dark with passion. His pants came off with a wiggle. He hadn’t bothered to put on his underwear, and Tommy ground himself against Damien’s naked body.
“Watch the tattoo,” he muttered, dragging his teeth along the line of corded muscle on the alpha’s shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Damien said, cupping Tommy’s jaw to pull him back in for a kiss. “I know a guy who can touch it up.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, breaking the kiss. “If you,” he said, nipping at Damien’s lips until he gave him a moment to breathe, “mess up that outline, I’m not fixing it without incentive.”
“How’s really great sex?” Damien asked, reaching for the edge of the wrap.
“Leave it on,” Tommy snapped, swatting at his hand. “You get an infection, and not even really great sex will get you out of trouble.”
Damien stared at him for a moment, his lips twitching. “Whatever you say, babe. Where were we?” He leaned in, slotting their lips together and pulling the breath out of Tommy’s lungs as Damien ran a hand up the seam of his shorts.
He couldn’t hear the zipper over the pounding of his heart, but Tommy felt the vibrations of every tooth along his cock as it fell open. He had to pull away to suck in air when a hot hand gave him a firm stroke.
“The first wet dream I ever had,” Damien said, his eyes following the movement as he curled his wrist around the purpled head of Tommy’s cock, “was of doing this.” Trying to gather his thoughts to ask, Tommy fell back on the bed with a shout as Damien licked a stripe up his rock hard erection. He smacked his lips together with a wink. “You’re just as sweet as I expected.”
Tommy dug his fingernails into the bed, trying not to thrust up as Damien’s lips and tongue set his nerves on fire. His heart struggled to jump out of his chest, and the world disappeared behind flashes of light. He caught hold of Damien’s head with his other hand, not to push, just to feel the soft curls under his fingers reminding him that this was really his Damien. Pleasure crawled across his nerves, battering his control and shaking him like a rag doll.
Damien did something with his tongue that made Tommy buck involuntarily, and once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. Cupping Tommy’s hips in his hands, the alpha helped him move, moaning his approval.
The vibrations along his already oversensitive cock made stars explode behind Tommy’s eyes. “Wait,” he gasped.
Reluctantly peeling his lips away from Tommy’s cock, Damien raised an eyebrow. His lips were swollen, slick and red and kissable. He looked so decadent in the beam of moonlight from outside that Tommy couldn’t remember what he’d been about to say. Damien licked his lips, and Tommy’s cock twitched, slapping against his belly.
“I’m going to come if you keep that up,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Is that a problem?” Damien stroked along Tommy’s hip, the slightly ticklish sensation sending shivers up his spine.
“I want you inside me.”
“We can do both.” Damien puffed a soft breath along the wet skin.
Tommy cursed, fisting his hand in his hair. “Next time?” he asked.
A slow smile spread across Damien’s lips, and he opened his mouth, then hesitated. He was quiet for so long that Tommy noticed the chill of the air conditioner seeping into the sweat on his skin. “Yeah,” he said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah. Next time.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the crease of Tommy’s thigh, his stubble scratching just right. “Where’s your lube?”
Digging blindly in his bedside table, Tommy dug out the mostly empty bottle and tossed it toward the end of the bed. Damien grabbed it out of the air and fumbled it open with one hand, stroking Tommy’s hip with the other.
“I’ll grab some more for next time,” Damien said, warming the slippery gel in his fingers. “You have anything against flavors?”
“Not cherry.” Tommy groaned, his back arching as Damien’s first finger sank into him. Damien pouted, curling his finger around until Tommy cursed, clutching the sheet convulsively. “No peach, either,” he gasped.
Thrusting his finger in deeper, Damien’s eyes glittered in the dark as he watched Tommy carefully. He licked his lips, opening his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say was lost as he slipped another finger a
longside the first.
Tommy arched his back and struggled to get enough air into his lungs. The world was narrowing down to just the bed and the smell of smoke that clung to Damien’s skin like fine cologne. “Hurry up,” he said, squeezing his muscles around those teasing fingers.
Huffing out a breath like it had been punched out of him, Damien leaned over to dig a condom out of the drawer. Tommy took advantage of all that flesh on display, sinking his teeth into the corded muscle of Damien’s chest. Damien cursed, stroking a hand gently over Tommy’s hair as he tore into the condom wrapper with his teeth.
“You have to let go if you want me to do this right, Tommy.”
Reluctantly, Tommy laid back on the bed. Damien looked like a fertility god, all shining, corded muscle and thick cock highlighted in the moonlight. Tommy wanted to worship at his altar forever. Sprawled on the bed, he curled his hand around his cock and stroked lazily, enjoying the tremors of pleasure that raised goosebumps on his arms.
Damien paused to watch, a secretive smile tilting the corners of his mouth up. “You look so fucking good, baby.” Tommy spread his legs in offering, but Damien shook his head. “Roll over.”
Raising one eyebrow, Tommy turned over. When he glanced over his shoulder, Damien’s eyes scanned across his back, taking in every detail of the tattoo. One thick finger, still slick with lube traced the dark line of the burnt tree trunk.
“I lo… I really like this,” he said, spreading his hand out so that it covered as much of it as possible. Tommy’s heart fluttered, and he kept watching even though it was making his neck ache.
Damien lined up with one big hand, just the tip popping in. Tommy had to drop his head and concentrate on breathing. It had been months since the Hilton, and he hadn’t had anyone else in his bed in over a year. Bending down and pressing his soft lips against Tommy’s spine, Damien traced the line of one branch with a barely there kiss.
“I’m okay,” Tommy said.
“I’m not,” Damien retorted, waiting another moment. He kissed the line of smoke and the charred embers of beams, pressing his warmth against the ink like he could heal the past.
When he thrust, it took Tommy by surprise, and he fell forward against the bed, his cry swallowed by the sheets. Damien followed him, driving in deep and fast, each stroke sending fire along Tommy’s nerves. His lips never left Tommy’s skin, stroking along the top branches of the tree until he could bury his nose in blond hair.
Tommy cried out as the change in angle made each movement bump across his prostate, the pleasure overwhelming him. He felt like a spring wound too tight, every thrust pulling the universe in closer until all that had ever existed was Damien and pleasure.
Above him, Damien cursed, his rhythm faltering, and he turned his head, digging his teeth into the meat of Tommy’s shoulder. One trembling hand curled around Tommy’s cock, stroking him haphazardly.
“Come on, baby,” he growled. “I want to feel you.”
The spring snapped, liquid fire unspooling through Tommy’s body as he came across the sheets. Damien thrust hard a few more times, his choked off cry buried against the back of Tommy’s neck.
They held the moment, trembling together until Damien collapsed to one side. There was a split second of cold air on his back before one dark arm hooked around his waist and pulled him against Damien’s chest. Tommy smiled, burrowing into his warmth as he panted for breath. Damien pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, both of them too breathless to do more than lick at each other’s lips as the sweat dried.
The moon was low enough to shine through the blinds, and in the half light, Tommy could see Damien staring at him as the silence stretched. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Kissing the top of Tommy’s head, he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "I should get going."
Glancing at the moon rising high outside the window, Tommy nuzzled his shoulder. "You could stay the night."
Damien looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I wish I could, gorgeous.” He flashed him a grin, his teeth too white in the dim light. “As of ten minutes from now, I'm on call, so I've really got to get back to the station."
Sprawled out on the bed, Tommy sighed, ignoring the second thoughts swirling in his gut. "If you're sure." He sat up, but Damien leaned over and pressed him back into the bed with a brief, bruising kiss.
"Don't get out of bed just for me. I can see myself out." He pulled on his shoes but left them untied as he headed for the door. "I'll see you in two weeks for our appointment, okay, babe?"
Tommy's heart sank, and he stared at the moon, bright and pure, as Damien walked out the door. Idiot that he was, he kept waiting for Damien to come back, to ask him what was wrong, to tell him that he was more than a convenient fuck. Instead, the truck roared in the distance. It wasn't until the next morning that he realized he'd left his car at the shop.
***
"We never did make it to Vegas," Damien said, still breathing heavily against Tommy's hair.
They were curled up in bed together. Again. Even though Tommy had sworn that each time was the last. He tried not to think about the last appointment that they had scheduled for next month. The tattoo was almost done, the vibrant inks settling beautifully into the skin in all but a few spots.
Damien nudged Tommy with his chin. "We should go."
"To Vegas," Tommy said, cursing the hopeful note that made his voice crack. His stomach churned with guilt and shame.
"Why not? I have time off coming up in April. We can hit the buffets and see a show."
Tommy swallowed, forcing the nausea to the back of his throat. "Sure. I'll see if Carlos can take the shop for a few days."
Yawning, Damien stretched, and a chill ran up Tommy's spine. "I should go," he said, rolling to the side of the bed.
"Yeah," Tommy said, turning his head and swallowing down the bile the burned at his throat. "I'll see you for our appointment."
Warm lips pressed against his cheek. "I'll text you the dates I have available for Vegas, and we'll put something together, okay, babe?" He didn't wait for Tommy to reply. He never did.
A few seconds after the door closed with a quiet click, Tommy was out of bed and bent over the toilet. He puked until his stomach ached with the strain, bile streaking down the white porcelain. Huddled on the floor, he blinked the burning out of his eyes. The very thought of going to Vegas with the stranger in his best friend's body was enough to turn his stomach again.
By the time he got to his feet, he was swaying with fatigue. He realized halfway back to bed that he hadn't actually eaten anything since breakfast, but the thought of food just made his stomach cramp. Throwing himself down onto the bed, he burrowed under the covers. Six hours later, he was still staring at the wall, his exhausted body crying out for the sleep that refused to come.
Anne took one look at him and marched him right back out the door. "Nope, no, nein, nyet. I am not getting the stomach flu again this year. Go home, boss. We'll reschedule your appointments."
Too grateful to argue, he went home and curled up on the couch. He woke up with the first rays of dawn shining in his eyes and an ache in his back from sleeping in one position for too long. His stomach ached like an overworked muscle, but breakfast stayed down, so he counted it a win.
Around midnight that night, he took a break from tattooing a pink ribbon on a middle aged woman and found a text on his phone.
“April 17-26 – Damien”
It took Tommy two days to wipe the smile off his face.
The next two weeks fell into a pattern that kept him constantly off balance. One minute, he'd remember how Damien still refused to stay the night or talk about anything more serious than what to have for dinner. The next, he'd get an excited text about a show or attraction they could go to in Vegas, always with commentary that was purely Damien. Showgirls? “How many feathers do you think they go through a year?” Buffet? “I like this one because the dessert section is near the front.” Hotel? “This one has the best pool on
the Strip.”
Tommy tried not to hope, but he found himself looking forward to seeing Damien again. The day of their last appointment, he couldn't hold still, drinking so much coffee that he kept having to go to the bathroom.
Anne watched him pace back and forth, but she didn't say a word. He was grateful that she wasn't trying to pry. She'd dragged him out to lunch a dozen times already, skillfully prying all the pertinent details out into the open. She hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Right on time, hot stuff."
Tommy cursed, washing his hands quickly as Damien's deep voice rumbled through the shop. He was on the phone, his face serious, and as Tommy rounded the counter, he held up a hand.
"I know I'm not on call, but I'll be there in a couple hours. Of course, sir. Don't wait up. I'll meet you at the staging area. Got it." He hung up, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "I've got to go."
Heart stuttering, Tommy had a semi-hysterical thought flit through his head, pointing out that they'd skipped a few steps today.
"...north of Denver, and they've called in every team in the state that can get there." Damien was still talking, and Tommy tried to focus. "I'll have to reschedule for a week or two. I don't know how long this one is going to take."
The only thing that penetrated the thudding heartbeat in Tommy's ears was the realization that it wasn't just an excuse this time. There was a fire. "Of course," he said, leaning up on his toes to give Damien a kiss out of reflex.
Damien ducked away, already striding out the door. "I'll text you," he said as the door to his truck slammed shut.
Frozen, Tommy watched him roar away, feeling Anne's eyes burning into his back. His stomach turned over, and he walked calmly back to the bathroom, shutting the door on her pitying gaze.
***
"Tell me that was my last appointment today," Tommy begged, leaning against the counter with one hand on his aching back. He'd been bent over a leg piece most of the shift, and the customer had been so happy with the work that he'd cried.