Chapter Ten
Rory
If Rory had even one more ounce of hope in his heart when he came on this trip that something could happen with Nash, he would have packed condoms, and when they got back to their room, he was kicking himself that he hadn’t. In his defense, he’d had one glimmer, one single night of his life, where he thought he and Nash could besomething. And since then, Nash had avoided him so hard that he figured there was a less than zero chance that he’d get to whip out a condom on a tightly scheduled work trip where the only person he would be interacting intensely with was Nash and his resting bitch face.
“I think we’re going to have to wait until we’re back on US soil before you can fuck me,” Rory complained, trying to rip Nash out of the t-shirt he’d put on less than an hour ago in order for them to grab breakfast.
“It’ll be worth the wait,” Nash promised, his voice low and sultry in a way that made Rory believe it. He had limited experience with Nash in bed, but Rory wanted years of experience. He wanted to memorize Nash's body. He wanted to become an expert on making him come. And he wanted the same in return. He was eager to get the show on the road.
Nash slowed it down, one big hand on Rory's jaw to hold him in place, just steps into their room. “I’m in no rush.”
He pulled Rory into a kiss so utterly devastating he forgot how to stand. Nash caught him around his waist, pulling him in close. Rory looped his arms around Nash's shoulders to stay upright as Nash devoured him.
Nash was intense and determined, so focused on Rory that Rory thought he might burst into only atoms at any second. Nash's hands were firm on his hips, and Rory felt safe and sexy and taken care of.
“We can’t fuck, but we can do something else,” Nash suggested, finally pulling his own t-shirt off before doing the same for Rory. He didn’t know whatsomething elsewas code for, but he wanted whatever Nash was into. Nash helped Rory out of his pants and underwear, giving his ass a swat as he tipped his head toward the bed, telling Rory where to go.
Rory climbed back in bed, trying to shut up the little voice telling him it would be a great time for a nap. Instead, he watched Nash strip, which he felt like he should have paid for. Nash was wet-dream hot. Rory had been harboring a crush on him for so many years that he’d seen young twentysomething Nash age into 30-year-old Nash, the additional years lookingdeliciouson him.
“On your stomach,” Nash said, and even if Rory hadn’t already been a little hard, that would have gotten him there. He scrambled to flip over, and watched Nash stalk toward him, pupils blown, looking hungry for Rory. It had been years since anyone looked at him with that intensity. Not just a general horniness, but arousal that couldonlybe cured by Rory.
Nash put a knee on the bed, and Rory automatically spread his legs the best he could. Distantly, he cursed himself once more for not packing condoms.
“Get up on your knees,” Nash said, bringing his hands to Rory's hips to encourage him up. And before Rory could wonder what Nash had in store for him, his mouth was on Rory.
He licked a stripe over Rory's hole, causing an involuntary, and probably not very attractive, whine. Their separate showers that morning had been disappointing at the time, but it was paying off now, as the tip of Nash's tongue traced the skin around his hole slowly, before lapping at it again. His beard was soft against Rory's skin.
The one wonderful night they’d had together last summer had been memorable, certainly, but at no point had Rory becomethisacquainted with Nash's tongue. He wanted to compliment him on his technique, which was making Rory feel tingly all over, but he figured the best review he could give him was the most drawn-out moans he could muster.
Nash brought a hand up to squeeze Rory's balls, and Rory could tell he was trembling.
“Fuck, baby, you sound so good,” Nash said, his warm breath on Rory's skin far from being enough at this point. Rory pressed his hips back, and Nash hummed appreciatively. “That’s right,” he encouraged.
Rory was already wondering what was next by the time he was relaxed enough for Nash's tongue to breach him. He heard the cap to the lube pop open, and then one of Nash's fingers slid in easily, his tongue still caressing him.
“Oh God,” Rory said, thinking about Nash's fingers in him. He’d jerked off to the idea more than once, a crude, slightly intoxicated recollection of the one time he’d experienced it a well-worn memory. It was better than he remembered. Nash's fingers were thick and callused, more from lifting at the gym than carrying a camera around, but Rory didn’t care where they came from. He only cared about how they felt inside of him. He had one finger stroking inside of Rory, pulling moan after moanout of him, keeping him from cresting the edge of his orgasm, until he pulled his finger out completely.
“On your back,” Nash said, the command zinging through Rory's body. He scrambled onto his back easily, and Nash wasted no time adding more lube so he could get a second finger in him. With one look from under a wickedly arched eyebrow, Nash ducked down and took Rory into his mouth. He was stretching around the fingers Nash was stroking him with, letting a whine out when Nash not only found his prostate but decided it deserved his full attention.
Rory had already spent too long on the edge. He was engulfed in Nash's mouth, those thick fingers working him like they already knew everything there was to know about Rory's body. He had no choice but to come, hoping the increasingly urgent sounds he was making were enough of a warning.
He came, and Nash didn’t relent for a second, the way he was working his fingers inside of Rory making his orgasm last for goddamn ever.
Slowly, Nash pulled his fingers out of Rory, let his cock slip free from his mouth, and stretched to hover over Rory, his own hand on his erection as he jerked himself off, catching Rory's lips right before he came all over Rory's stomach.
“I could have helped you with that,” Rory said, both hands on Nash's face to keep him close enough to kiss for as long as possible.
Nash took advantage of the proximity, licking into Rory's mouth so he could taste himself on Nash's tongue. “You did help with that,” he promised, and Rory blushed at the thought that Nash was so turned on by giving Rory an orgasm that he was right on the edge like that.
“Stay here,” Nash commanded, and Rory obeyed again as Nash went to get a washcloth to clean Rory up with. He was always like this, so gentle and tender after, like the sex wasn’tover until everyone had been cleaned up and restored to their pre-sex state.
“We should get packed, huh?” Rory asked, sad smile on his face. Nash was excited to be home, but if they stayed in this room forever, they wouldn’t need to get back on an airplane.
Carefully, Nash did a check of all of his camera equipment, the broken lens coming home with them in a separate compartment just in case. Rory combed the room to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything, and in under forty minutes, they were ready to leave.
“Some good memories were made here,” Rory said, looping an arm around one of Nash's.
“This place sure made a big impression in only a few days.”
The front desk called a cab for them, and all too soon, Italy was in their rearview.
