Want spread under his skin like heat and static. It felt darker, heavier, as it ran down his spine and tightened around the base of his cock—not the pleasant zing of electricity, but the sticky, almost painful thickness of molten honey.
Boyd moaned and arched his hips, eager for the pressure of Morgan’s flat stomach against his cock. If he stopped, if he let his brain shift gears back into “Are you going to regret this?”, he might have to call a stop to it.
That was—Boyd shoved Morgan’s jeans impatiently down around his hips—the last thing he wanted.
Under the denim, Morgan’s skin was warm and smooth against Boyd’s fingers, layered over taut muscle and pulled tight. There was a scar on the back of his thigh, a ragged crescent of well-mended tissue that made Morgan tense when Boyd traced it with his thumb.
“Don’t.” The order was bitten into Boyd’s mouth, his lower lip folded between Morgan’s teeth.
Boyd hesitated. “Don’t touch?” he checked.
“Don’t ask.”
The order made curiosity bubble in Boyd’s chest with a knot of questions that, he reminded himself as he swallowed them, weren’t any of his business. It was Morgan’s scar, Morgan’s past, Morgan’s life. There were enough people determined to pick his secrets out of him, and while they had the best intentions, Boyd didn’t have the right to be one of them.
“Roll over,” he said instead as he shoved at Morgan’s shoulder.
Morgan grumbled but did as he was told and kicked his jeans the rest of the way down his thighs as he did so. He sprawled out on the wooden floor, all tawny skin and long, lean lines under the dim light of the old bulb. His cock was hard and lay in a heavy straight line against his stomach, the head slick with precome.
“Why?” he asked warily.
“You wanted to see me naked,” Boyd said as he got his feet under him and stood up. It felt like an odd sort of evening out, vulnerability for vulnerability. “Now’s your chance.”
Morgan slowly licked his lips. Then he folded one arm behind his head and wrapped his free hand around his cock. He pulled his hand along the hard length of it in lazy, pace-holding strokes. “Go on, then.”
Boyd unzipped his jeans and pushed them down over his hips. They were tighter cut than Morgan’s worn-soft denim and took a bit more work to strip off. He balanced on one foot as he pulled the other out of the leg.
“If I’d known this was planned, I’d have worn different pants,” he muttered. “I’m sure this is really attractive.”
“I’m not complaining,” Morgan said idly. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a briefs man, myself, but they frame your cock nice.”
Finally free of the tangle of denim, Boyd kicked it out of his way. He gave Morgan a wry look. “I don’t need your pity.”
Morgan let his lip slip from between his teeth, flesh flushed and tender, and cocked his head to the side. “What do you need?”
“Guess,” Boyd said as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pushed them down.
The band slid over his cock, and it lifted toward his stomach, hard and eager, as he stepped out of the puddle of black fabric. It twitched in time with his heartbeat, and he could feel the ache of want in his balls get heavier. He brushed his fingers along the taut shaft, and a tight prickle of pleasure tugged back into his stomach, but he didn’t really want his own hands on his cock. Not tonight.
Morgan grinned, freed his hand from his cock, and started to push himself up off the floor. He got halfway, and then Boyd grabbed his shoulders to push him back down.
“I want to look at you,” he said as he slid down into Morgan’s lap. Boyd could feel the hard ridge of Morgan’s erection pressed against his ass. Boyd rocked against it, his stomach tight from hips to ribs as the thick shaft stroked over his balls and along his taint. “While your cock is inside me.”
It didn’t quite make Morgan blush again, but he grabbed Boyd’s hips to hold him still. “You got a condom?” he asked.
Boyd shrugged as he leaned over to brace his hands on Morgan’s chest. “I trust you.”
That got him a slap on the ass that made him jump and his cock twitch eagerly in response to the unexpected delivery of almost-pain. “You fucking shouldn’t,” Morgan said. “Idiot.”
Fair enough.Boyd reached back to rub his ass. He’d spent a few morning afters cursing himself as he scrambled back into his clothes, sick with the usual guilt of not having made the most of his life. Still….
“I know I don’t have anything,” he said. “And you already came in my mouth. So…?”
The second slap evened out the heat on the other side of Boyd’s ass. This time Morgan smoothed the sting away with one hand while he reached under the bed with the other to drag out his duffel.
“For a smart guy, you say a lot of stupid things,” Morgan said as he fumbled with a zippered pouch on the side and pulled out a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube. “Hand?”
Boyd gave him the finger instead. He wasn’t some naïve kid, and Morgan was the one who kept saying he wasn’t who they thoughthewas. So he didn’t get to act like he got a say in Boyd’s life or—
