On Solid Ground

by Quinn Anderson

  Kit took over from there, using his free hand to push his underwear down to his thighs. Cock freed, he aligned it with Chance’s. When their erections came into contact—silky and firm—they moaned in unison.

  Chance grabbed Kit’s face and pulled him down into a fierce, wet kiss. It turned Kit on almost as much as the feel of Chance’s dick against his. He kissed back while thrusting experimentally against Chance, sliding their groins together. There were so many sensations to process, such deep pleasure thrumming in him, it made Kit dizzy.

  “Enough foreplay,” Chance murmured against his lips. He was trembling beneath Kit. “Fuck me.”

  Kit didn’t bother to reply. He slid an arm under Chance, hauled him up, flipped him over, and pushed him down on the desk with one hand on the back of his neck.

  “Oh, fuck,” Chance said. “Yes, perfect.”

  Kit took a moment to admire the scene: Chance’s palms were splayed flat on the surface of the desk, and his pants were hanging around his knees. His underwear was caught under his ass, giving Kit the most wonderful view of it. His balls hung heavy between his legs. Kit took them in his free hand and gave them a gentle squeeze. Chance jumped like he’d been shocked, and pressed back until his ass ground against Kit’s cock.

  “Please, Kit. Fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.”

  Kit moved into position behind Chance. He’d just taken his cock in hand when something occurred to him. “Fuck.”

  “Yes. That. Please.” Chance pushed his hips back again and wiggled.

  Kit gasped and thrust instinctively against him, but he stilled a moment later. “No, that was a bad ‘fuck.’ We don’t have any supplies. No lube, no condoms, nothing.”

  Chance froze. “Damn. I didn’t think of that.” He twisted around until they could look at each other. Kit must’ve been a sight to behold, because one glance and Chance licked his lips. “Fuck it. You been tested recently?”

  “Since my last partner, yeah.”

  “Everything in order?”

  Kit snorted. “Yeah.”

  “Same. I think, considering the circumstances, we can risk it this once.”

  Kit hesitated for only a moment before he nodded. “I’m in if you are.”

  “Please be in.” Chance thrust back against Kit’s cock. “That would be wonderful.”

  “Hold still. I need to get you ready.”

  “I can’t.” Chance somehow managed to nestle Kit’s cock right in his ass crack without looking. “I want you so much.”

  Kit put a hand on the back of Chance’s neck again and gave it a soft squeeze. “Be good, or this’ll take even longer.” Then he spit on his free palm and slid it between Chance’s cheeks.

  Whether the threat or the touch did it, Kit didn’t know, but Chance stopped wriggling, and Kit was able to work a finger into him. At first, Chance made little grunts of discomfort, but after a minute or so, he relaxed and started to respond.

  It took a lot more spit, but by the time Kit had three fingers in him, Chance was flushed and quivering. He met the rhythm of Kit’s fingers with shallow thrusts and the softest, most needy noises.

  Kit had never been so turned on in his life, and he wasn’t even touching himself. If he didn’t fuck Chance soon, he was going to faint.

  He removed his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock, resting it at Chance’s entrance. “You ready?”

  Chance’s face was turned to the side, eyes closed, sweat dampening his dark hair. He gripped the edge of the desk with both hands and nodded. “Been ready.”

  Kit took a breath and pressed forward. From the moment he sank in, pleasure lit up every nerve ending in his body. It was so much more intense than anything he’d ever felt. Maybe it was because of all the anticipation, or because he was finally getting to be with Chance. Whatever it was, it made Kit see stars.

  “Fuck.” Chance’s fingers were white, they were gripping the desk so hard. “Fuck.”

  Kit had to bite his lip to clear his head enough to speak. “You all right?”

  “Yes. More.” Chance thrust back, sliding Kit all the way into him, and they moaned together.

  “Easy, easy.” Kit’s other hand found Chance’s hip and gripped it, holding him in place. “Don’t want to go too fast.”

  “You won’t hurt me. I can take it.”

  “You can, but I can’t.” Kit leaned down—his chest to Chance’s back—and nuzzled Chance’s neck. “You’re so gorgeous like this. All flushed and desperate. If I don’t take it slow, I’ll come right now.”

  Chance whimpered and turned his face until their mouths could barely meet. Kit kissed him as best he could, concentrating on holding himself together. After a few deep breaths, he pulled out only to thrust back in, wringing another groan from them both.

  He started to stand up so he could get better leverage, but Chance reached a hand back and touched his arm. “Don’t. Stay close to me. I want to feel you.”

  Kit didn’t need to be asked twice. He pinned Chance down with his torso, pressed deeply into him, and moved his hips in a slow, deliberate grind.

  Chance lost it. He scrabbled at the surface of the desk like he needed something to hold on to. His cries reached a pitch and frequency that made Kit wonder if he was hurting him. But then Chance reached back and grabbed Kit’s ass like Chance was trying to pull Kit deeper into him. He started meeting Kit’s thrusts, and they fell into a hard, fast rhythm.

  Kit was actually growling, holding Chance down, and biting his shoulder. Chance braced himself, legs spread wide, and took it. Kit hadn’t intended to be so rough, but Chance couldn’t seem to get enough of him, and as pleasure mounted in Kit, he realized he couldn’t get enough of Chance either.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chance chanted, sweaty palms slipping against the desk as he struggled to hold himself up. “God, Kit, yes.”

  Kit could hardly breathe it felt so good. The desk was creaking worrisomely beneath them, but he didn’t care. The building could fall down around them, and he wouldn’t notice right now. Chance was bucking up into Kit’s thrusts. His reactions were so hot, Kit wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

  He pulled together enough cognizance to slip a hand under Chance and find his cock. As soon as Kit’s fingers wrapped around it, Chance gasped and clawed at the desk. Kit stroked him as best he could while still fucking him. The rhythm wasn’t quite right, but judging by how loudly Chance was moaning, he had to be doing something right.

  “Close.” Chance pushed himself up only to fall against the desk like he lacked the strength to support himself. “I’m so close.”

  “So am I.” Kit licked a stripe up his neck. “You want to come like this?”

  Chance shuddered and turned his head. “No. I want to look at you. Let me up.”

  Kit obeyed instantly, pulling out of Chance and stepping back. Chance pushed himself up, wobbled precariously, and turned around. His cock was standing straight out from his body, the head ruddy and glistening.

  “Sit on the couch.” Chance pointed behind Kit.

  Kit almost stumbled over his own feet in his haste to obey. He held his pants up until he got there, but once he was seated, he pushed them and his underwear down to his knees. If this was going where he thought it was, he’d need space to move.

  Chance followed after him, eyeing Kit’s cock hungrily. When he was close enough, he pulled off his shoes, careful not to step on anything sharp, and shucked his clothing from the waist down. Then he straddled Kit.

  Kit reached to take both their cocks in one hand, but Chance intercepted it and kissed his knuckles.

  “Don’t. I’m too close. If you touch me, I’ll decide I want to come more than I want to ride you, and I really want to ride you.”

  “Jesus.” Kit let his head fall back. “No complaints here.”

  Chance kneeled, grabbed the base of Kit’s cock, and lowered himself onto it. They both gasped as he sunk down, and when he was seated, he started to move. Slow, deliberate grinds that ma
de Kit’s vision blur.

  The atmosphere of their sex changed with the new position. They could kiss now, and they did, sweet and honeyed. Kit struggled to keep his eyes open so he could watch the exquisite look of torture on Chance’s face, but they kept sliding closed. When Chance said his name, voice no louder than a breath, electricity shot down Kit’s spine and into his cock. It made the whole thing so raw, so intimate, it was a little frightening. Kit never wanted it to stop.

  Chance fell into a rhythm of fast, shallow thrusts that were clearly designed to get them both off. Something started building inside of Kit. He could feel the intensity of it already. Before long, it would tear through him.

  His hand found Chance’s cock again. Chance whimpered and smeared their mouths together, seemingly too far gone to put any skill into it. Kit wrapped his free arm around Chance’s back and held him, kissing his skin, tasting salt and sweat.

  “Kit, I . . .” Chance swallowed. His eyelashes were heavy over his eyes, but Kit could see a sliver of blue. Sweat beaded on his brow, and a flush colored both cheeks. He looked so vulnerable, so beautiful. “I feel— You’re so—”

  “I know.” Kit shushed him with his lips. “I feel it. I’m here.”

  As if some sort of spring had been released, Chance orgasmed with a shout. His hips kept working jerkily as he came all over Kit’s hand. Kit stroked him through it, thrusting up into him a half dozen more times. When his pleasure crested, he pushed hard into Chance and stilled. He came so hard the world whited out, and all he could feel was warmth.

  When it was over, they both panted for breath. Kit managed to open his eyes with the last of his strength. Chance’s body was slumped, jaw slack. He looked wrecked. Kit had never seen anything so lovely.

  Exhausted, Kit collapsed back in his seat. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” Chance eased off him and flopped to the side. “If that was my last time having sex, I’m satisfied. Couldn’t have asked for more.”

  Contentment covered Kit like a cozy blanket. “You up for some cuddling?”

  “I stand corrected.”

  They arranged themselves on the sofa: sticky, sweaty, and in various states of nakedness. Kit wrapped his arms around Chance and held him close while Chance snuggled up to his chest.

  “Can we talk, or are you all tuckered out?” Chance yawned even as the words left his mouth.

  “No, I’m all right. Talk away.”

  Chance kissed his jaw. “You’re so good to me.” He paused and swallowed audibly. “I wish . . . I wish we had more time.”

  Pain stabbed Kit in the chest where he imagined his heart was. “Me too. But we had this, and I don’t regret it for a second.”

  “Me neither.” Chance was quiet for a moment. “If we get out of here, do you think it’ll be the same?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . I know I liked you long before this, and I believe with all my heart that what we have is real, but what if we get out and it all changes?”

  “It absolutely will.”

  Chance leaned back and looked at him, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Things are going to be different from now on.” He smiled. “First of all, if we still have our jobs, my first order of business will be to tell the guys I work with that I’m gay. And that I’m dating the cutie from the IT department. And if they crack so much as one joke, or ask me for fashion advice, their generous expense accounts are going to take a hit.”

  “I approve.” Chance laughed. “Especially of the dating bit. I didn’t realize we were so serious.”

  “We might be moving a little fast, but considering the circumstances, I’m all right with it if you are.”

  “What will we talk about on our first date? We already know things about each other that some couples never learn in a lifetime. Like, I know you’re good in a crisis, and you put the safety of others before your own. Excellent qualities, I might add.”

  “That’s the most exciting part, in my opinion. This earthquake forced us to learn who we are when we’re under pressure. Once we’re free, we get to learn who we are when we’re just having fun. Plus, there’s a lot more I want to know about you, things you can only learn from spending time together. Like, your birthday, or how you take your coffee.”

  “I can tell you that much right now. March fifteenth, and I prefer tea.”

  Kit groaned. “Oh God, a tea drinker. Maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.”

  Chance swatted him. “Says the cat person.”

  “All right, fine. I call a truce.” Kit kissed him on the temple. “What do you say? Will you go on a date with me?”

  “Hm, let me think.” Chance screwed up his mouth. “A smart, kind, gorgeous man wants to date me. I dunno. I think you need to sweeten the deal.”

  Kit cupped one of Chance’s cheeks and pulled him into a deep, luxurious kiss.

  Chance made a helpless sound against his lips. “All right, I’m sold. I want to plan our first date, though.”

  “Why? Gonna take me to a Star Trek convention?”

  Chance huffed. “Well, now I’m not.”

  They laughed together until tiredness overcame them, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. Chance rested his head on Kit’s shoulder and breathed evenly. Kit stared up at the ruined ceiling and stroked the pads of his fingers down Chance’s back.

  Something warm was taking root in his chest—something that felt a lot like love—and it made him want to cry.

  He’d thought his biggest regret would be dying without telling Chance his feelings, but now that he had, and Chance had returned them, he had a whole new fear: that they’d never get to be together outside these crumbling walls. Never get to go on their first date. Never get to fall in love.

  Please, he pleaded with anyone or anything who might be listening. Please don’t let this be the end.

  All he heard in response was Chance’s gentle breathing and distant sirens.

  8:58 a.m., Tuesday, August 14th

  Chance was contemplating taking a postcoital nap when he heard it. Some sort of dull thumping sound.

  He thought it might be Kit’s heartbeat at first, but it was too irregular, and it wasn’t coming from right next to him. He dismissed it, thinking he was imagining things, until he heard it again, closer this time. Sitting up, he tilted his head and listened hard, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.

  “What is it?” Kit propped himself up on an elbow and trailed a hand down Chance’s back.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “Shh. Listen.”

  They stilled, and within a few seconds, the thump sounded again, clear as day this time.

  Kit sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know. Can you hear where it’s coming from?”

  “Outside, maybe? Or somewhere in the building?” Kit gasped. “What if someone else has been trapped in here this whole time, and now they’re banging on the walls for help?”

  “Why would they start now? Would we even be able to hear that?”

  Kit didn’t get a chance to answer. A moment later, a new sound joined the thumping, and it was the most beautiful thing Chance had ever heard.

  It was a muffled human voice.

  “ . . . if you’re in there . . . let us know if you can . . .”

  Chance was so stunned he couldn’t react at first. His body was paralyzed with numbing disbelief. Then, as the sound of the voice grew louder—becoming unmistakable—he and Kit looked at each other at the same time.

  “It’s—it’s—” Kit breathed.

  “We’re in here!” Chance shouted. “We’re in here!”

  The voice cut off. So did the thumping. Ten seconds of agonizing silence passed. Had they imagined it? Chance’s heart hammered in his chest. If this was some sort of hallucination caused by wishful thinking, he’d die. The disappointment would shatter him.

  Before the hope swelling in his ches
t could burst, Chance heard the voice again. Louder and clearer than before. “Is anyone in there? Shout if you can hear us!”

  The rescue teams. They found us. Chance’s vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears.

  “Help us!” Kit shouted, jumping to his feet.

  “We’re back here!” Chance almost choked in his effort to scream as loud as he could. “We’re trapped back here!”

  More voices joined the first one. Chance distinctly heard someone curse. It sounded like they were somewhere beyond the collapsed hallway. So close, and yet so far.

  A woman’s voice reached them this time. “How many of you are there? Is anyone hurt?”

  “Two, and we’re fine,” Kit shouted back.

  “Stay right where you are. Get against an outer wall if you can. We’re going to clear the debris. If the roof collapses, stay calm. We’re coming for you.”

  Chance had never heard more beautiful words in his life. Tears spilled down his cheeks. He didn’t even care enough to brush them away. He turned to Kit and grabbed him so hard it had to have hurt, but Kit beamed at him.

  “We made it.” Kit brushed a thumb along Chance’s cheek. “We’re saved.”

  “Holy shit,” Chance said with emphasis. Relief gushed through him, warm like the Scotch they’d drunk last night and every bit as intoxicating. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream. “I almost can’t believe it. We’re going to be all right.”

  Banging sounds echoed down the hallway, like someone was taking a hammer to the rubble. Which, Chance supposed, could very well be the case.

  He heaved a sigh that lifted thirty pounds off his shoulders. “This is it, Kit. There’s just one more thing we need to do.”

  Kit pressed their foreheads together, a big grin on his face. “What’s that?”

  Chance gestured at their bodies. “We should probably find our clothes.”

  12:18 p.m., Tuesday, August 14th

  Chance had never thought that one day the sight of pavement would make his heart skip with joy, but the second they got outside, he fell to his knees and hugged the ground.