Bewildered, Calvin asks, “Why the hell would that many people watch a wedding?”
It’s always funny to him when Calvin talks like he has no idea how big of a name their band has, and the effect they have in general. Miles can’t contain his happiness and kisses him again, pulling away only to get his words out before diving right back in. “You’re—you and the band—you’re fucking amazing. I’m serious, I owe you all everything. I don’t know how I’ll be able to repay you.”
“It’s nothing,” Calvin manages to say, all breathy and deep. He keeps saying it’s nothing, but it’s definitely everything. “Chase and Gil were happy to be there. We haven’t played in a wedding in for—”
Miles kisses him again, holds him by the back of his head, and walks him backward. Calvin lets him—and he’d stumble if Miles didn’t have such a tight grip on him, guiding him, until the back ofhis knees hit the bed. They both tumble down on it, Miles on top of him, and he props himself up with his elbows on either side of Calvin’s face.
“You going to thank me now?” Calvin teases. “Do stupid, unspeakable things like you said?”
“I don’t know where to start,” Miles says, pressing his mouth against Calvin’s neck. He sits up to pull Calvin’s tie off and slowly pops his buttons open, one by one, keeping his eyes on Calvin’s the entire time. He snakes his hand inside his shirt, feeling Calvin’s warm skin underneath his fingers.
Calvin swallows and his eyes darken.
There’s still so much Miles wants to do with him. They haven’t even gone past blow jobs, and he’s not sure where Calvin’s head is at when it comes to other things, so Miles hasn’t brought it up in case Calvin’s not there yet.
But with the way Calvin’s looking at him right now—
Calvin’s lip wobbles as if he’s working himself up to say something. Then, he murmurs, “There’s lube and condoms in my bag.”
Oh. Miles’s heart leaps, breath stuck in his throat. He leans down again and knocks their foreheads together. There’s a wild thrumming in his chest that he can’t settle even if he tried.
He smooths his hands over Calvin’s sides, his hands shaking. “Do you want to… um, how do you want to do this?”
He’d take it either way, honestly.
“Want you in me,” Calvin says.
“God, baby, that’s so hot—”
“Don’t call me that,” Calvin says, too coolly, despite whatthey’re talking about doing. The rejection would hurt if Calvin’s blush wasn’t spreading to his ears. He swallows, his throat bobbing, and he murmurs, “Come on. Get in me.”
Feeling too much all at once, Miles can only nod.
Calvin nudges him to get up, and Miles kisses him once, before walking to his bag. He rummages around the pockets while Calvin sits up, kicks his shoes off, and moves backward against the bed until he’s sitting up on the headboard.
“Aha!” Miles says, holding up the lube and a condom, grinning wide, as if that was a huge victory. He heads right back, not caring at all that he looks much too eager. He pulls Calvin’s shirt off—well, his shirt, technically—and trails fingers over the inked vines and flowers on his shoulder.
They both get rid of the rest of their clothes, and oh wow, this is actually happening. Miles fumbles with the lube, gets it all over his hands. It’s Calvin’s fault—he’s distracting, sitting there naked with his cock heavy against his stomach.
“Slow down,” Calvin says.
“I can’t,” he murmurs, pushing Calvin down against the mattress. He grins, presses his mouth against his throat, and whatever other teasing Calvin planned to make devolves into a quiet gasp when Miles puts a lubed finger against his hole. He circles his rim leisurely.
Calvin rocks down on his hand. “Stop teasing me.”
“Thought you wanted me to slow down.”
“Miles,” he growls.
Despite how the roles have been reversed, and Calvin’s now urging him to be quicker, Miles takes his time. He works him slowlyand carefully. Still, when he puts a second finger in, Calvin tenses up, wincing, and Miles pauses.
“Keep going,” Calvin grumbles, rocking down on his hand again, and damn, that’s hot. Miles’s face heats. He refuses to make this uncomfortable for him though, so Miles puts a hand in his hair, leans down and kisses him slowly.
“Relax,” he murmurs against Calvin’s lips. Calvin’s mouth goes slack, and he gives him a jerky nod.
He puts his mouth all over Calvin’s jaw, his neck, and his chest as he gently works him open. Even when Calvin’s thighs tremble, and he tugs at Miles’s hair, Miles doesn’t stop. Calvin tastes so good and Miles doesn’t want this to end.
Calvin writhes under him. He makes a sound that suspiciously sounds like a whine, and his thighs snap up and he curses when Miles finds that particular spot in him.There—he presses against it again, and Calvin gasps, fingers clutching deep around Miles’s nape.
