“Make me.”
A slow, dark smile curved Javi’s mouth. It didn’t last long, but the lazy promise of it lingered as Javi leaned down to whisper in Cloister’s ear, “We both know I don’t need to.”
He wasn’t wrong. That wasn’t the point. Just because you wanted something was no reason to do what you were told. Cloister hooked his leg around Javi’s, hitched his hip, and flipped them over on the bed.
The abrupt move hurt like hot needles in his jarred waist and spread the dull, deep pain of a bone bruise from his hip bone down to his thigh. It was still worth it for the quick flicker of frustrated hunger on Javi’s face.
“Behave,” Cloister mocked as he brushed a kiss over the corner of Javi’s mouth as though he could coax the stern out of it. Javi’s long, lean body stretched out below him, his cock hard where it pressed against Cloister’s stomach. He tightened his fingers around Cloister’s forearms as he braced himself against the heavy sprawl of Cloister’s body. “Be still.”
Javi narrowed his eyes. “You know, people say you’re likable. I don’t see it.”
“Really?” Cloister kissed him slowly and sweetly. “Not at all?”
He traced the curve of Javi’s lower lip with his tongue and then dipped into the wet warmth of his mouth. It stopped being sweet, then, as Javi strained up into the kiss with teeth and tongue—a shot of lust as sharp as the whiskey Cloister had turned down… and headier.
There were plenty of reasons why Cloister should have stayed out of Javi’s bed or wherever it was they ended up fucking. Javi was black silk sheets and no commitments, a travel pack of lube in his wallet and a hot lawyer’s number on his phone. Meanwhile Cloister got his heart broken more often than he bought new bedding—once a year from Target—and while he could play the no-strings-attached game for a while, eventually he’d get tangled.
He’d get hurt. That was just a fact, but he came back anyhow. There were plenty of reasons—Javi was handsome, aggressively good in the sack, and, under his pointed reserve, he cared about things more than he liked to admit.
It was this, though—the possession bit into Cloister’s lips, the urgent pressure of Javi’s wet cock against his stomach—that worked its way in Cloister’s dreams. The seduction of how much Javi wanted him, how completely and without the complication of loving him.
Cloister had never really gotten the hang of that part.
Javi finally let go of his grip on Cloister’s arms. He ran his hands down Cloister’s back, along the taut lines of muscle, to grip his ass. A twitch of pleasure puckered Cloister’s asshole and pulled pleasure all the way forward to his balls.
“Don’t fish for compliments,” Javi said as he pulled his mouth away from Cloister’s. He laid sharp, bitten kisses along Cloister’s jaw as his teeth scraped through the wiry gilt stubble. “I asked you to come in, didn’t I?”
“So I’m better than a Jehovah’s Witness?” Cloister teased. He worked his hand down between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Javi’s cock. His knuckles grazed against the tight plane of Javi’s stomach as he pushed his thumb up from the base. Javi’s cock was solid, a layer of soft, velvety skin smoothed over the hard flesh and the pulse of blood. “I suppose that’s something.”
Javi swore a choked “fuck” under his breath and arched his body under Cloister’s. His cock thrust against Cloister’s palm and through his fingers, the head wet with precome as it bumped Cloister’s stomach.
“Of course, I’ve never met a Witness I wanted to fuck,” Javi gasped out raggedly. He grazed a wet-mouthed kiss along Cloister’s shoulder and bit down against the jut of his collarbone. The mingled pinch-pleasure of it scratched down Cloister’s spine. “So that could change.”
He shoved Cloister off him and rolled over on his side to pull open the bedside drawer. While he fished in the drawer, Cloister sprawled out on his back and reached down to grab his own cock. He played with the heavy length of it, his fingers slick with Javi’s come, as he admired the play of muscle in Javi’s long back. Against Javi’s dark hair and the glossy black of the sheets, his tanned skin had a cool tone to it that reminded Cloister of fall in Montana—the perfect fawn brown of leaves just before they fell.
Cloister sat up, his cock pressed against his stomach, and leaned over to press an openmouthed kiss against Javi’s shoulder blade. He grazed his hand down the side of Javi’s chest and along the curve of his waist to his hip.
“Thanks for staying with me the other night,” he said against the warmth of Javi’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it when I told you to fuck off.”
Javi rolled back with a tube of lube and a condom. No promises meant safe sex. It was part of the deal.
“Yeah, you did,” Javi said as he ripped the corner of the sachet open with his teeth and pulled out the condom. He sprawled back with his legs spread as he rolled the rubber down over his cock to the base.
Cloister snorted and ran his hand up Javi’s thigh, the tickle of fine, dark hair under his fingertips, to cup his balls. The soft skin wrinkled under his fingers as he squeezed his handful and made Javi curse and his cock jump between his fingers.
“I did,” he admitted. He traced the tight thread of skin under Javi’s balls with his thumbnail. It made Javi let go of his latex-shiny cock so he could clench his fists in reaction. “I still appreciate it.”
Javi squeezed a handful of lube into his palm and coated his cock in it with two slow, thorough strokes of his hand.
“Prove it,” Javi said, his voice low and dark. He lay back on the bed with his shoulders against the pillows and his legs spread so his cock stood up wet and lewd from the crux of his thighs. “Come here.”
Want curled tightly in Cloister’s stomach, the hooks of it buried in his cock. It twitched hard and willing against his stomach, and his balls ached with a dull, heavy throb that made him squirm. He hesitated for a second—the idea of his battered, lanky body in Javi’s lap was more ungainly than erotic—but Javi grabbed his good wrist and pulled him across the bed.
He straddled Javi’s thighs and braced his hands—hand, after a thump of plaster on flesh made Javi wince—on his shoulders. His cock bounced in the air between them, and the mattress dipped under his knees as he shifted his weight forward. Javi reached between his legs and worked cold, lube-slippery fingers into his ass as he spread Cloister open.
“Fuck,” Cloister groaned as he dug his fingers into Javi’s shoulders. The long muscles in his thighs tensed and trembled like wires under his skin.
“That’s the idea,” Javi said.
