"Might I
suggest," Riley shut the front door quite a bit harder than necessary, as
if the extra firm pressure would reiterate his disgruntled opinion of the
weather, "that we never, ever, ever do that again?" He kicked off
both boots as he walked, not stopping to set them on the tray, caring less that
within seconds the snow that was caked on the bottom of them would turn into
tiny rivers over the tiled flooring. He paused only for a single second before
he breached the passage from front entrance to living room to shake the balance
of the snow off his body, dog-like, sending the frozen bits clinging to his
hair and body as far away from him as possible.
"Oh, come on," Lyn huffed, reaching down to undo his own boots and
smiling at the snow as if Mother Nature herself had left him a personalized
present and masked it as precipitation. "It wasn't that bad. Even you have
to admit that the artwork was amazing."
Riley popped his head back into the entranceway and curled his lip. "That
is not artwork, Lyn. It is frozen water – made possible only because the
god-awful weather is cold enough to freeze your damn lips together while you're
talking. It's vile. It's evil. It's ... "
"Live?"
Riley frowned and tilted his head. "Say what now?"
"My mistake. I thought we were playing with anagrams," Lyn grinned.
Riley stared at him, completely expressionless. "And I'm sure that means
something to someone somewhere."
"Tina's satin stain?" Lyn suggested. "Stop spot? The eyes, they
see?"
Riley continued to gaze at him as if Riley was attempting to personify
still-life.
"Nothing, hmm? The words all have the same letters? Just arranged
differently? It's a ... thing ... " Lyn let his words trail off.
"You need to get a life," Riley replied pleasantly.
"Seriously."
Lyn shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the handle of the front door so
it could dry, his tone every bit as cordial. "And I would. If my partner
wasn't such an ass and actually wanted to leave the house every now and
again."
Riley pasted a look of innocence on his face. "No doubt your partner would
be far more amicable to events that didn't cause the destruction of his most
valued toes and fingers, sir."
"Perhaps, good sir," Lyn crossed his arms over his chest and lifted
an eyebrow at Riley's poor-me expression. "Or perhaps my partner should
grow a set of balls and stop being such a whiny little suck—"
He didn't get the opportunity to finish the sentence because Riley was already
launching at him. In typical Riley fashion, Lyn didn't have a chance to even
attempt repositioning himself. Riley bent at the waist and barely had to use
any shoulder pressure on Lyn's torso to make Lyn fold like a reed in a
windstorm. From there Riley had only to wrap his arms around Lyn's thighs,
stand and scoop, and Lyn was over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
"I'll show you whiny little suck," Riley laughed, marching down the
hallway while Lyn tried to reorient his brain. "Don't lift up; you'll hit
your head."
In response Lyn set both palms on the small of Riley's back and tried to push
himself up so he could wiggle down and free. A sound smack on his ass was all
Lyn got for his efforts. "I told you not to lift!" Riley growled
playfully. "Now be still before you hurt yourself."
"You mean before you accidentally hurt me?"
Riley turned into the bedroom and flicked on the lights. "You've been
warned. Therefore, any damage to your skull is completely on your own
head." He stopped, mid-stride and laughed out loud. "See what I did
there? Damage? Skull? On your own head? That's gotta be some kind of literary
geniusness, right?"
"Not only would I not use the word genius, genius," Lyn chuckled.
"But if I had I would have used it correctly. Like I just did.
Twice." Suddenly the world shifted, a moment of panic ensued, and with an
oof and a flump, Lyn landed on his back on their mattress. "You realise,"
he sighed. "That now I have to kill you."
Riley's laugh sounded like the bleat of an offended goat. He straddled Lyn's
legs and reached for the buckle of his belt. "Firstly, Mr. Lyn Jones, man
who lives in my home, person who shares my bed, and self-assumed
wordsmith," Riley stopped talking and tilted his head at Lyn.
"Yes, that would be a suitable word—"
"I knew that!" Riley lied. He seated himself firmer over Lyn's thighs
and whisked his belt off, smirking. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Firstly
you will admit to the group that you cannot, in fact, kill me. Because 'a' you
love me too much to live without me, and 'b' you are physically unable to
overpower me." He leaned over Lyn and began to loop the belt around Lyn's
wrists, tugging it snug but not tight enough for the buckle to bite, then
tucked the end of the belt into itself to secure it. "Secondly," he grinned,
settling back once again, "you will solemnly vow never to expect me to
stand out in the cold and admire supposed-art ever again."
"Or else?"
Riley dropped his voice to a low, comic grumble. "Or else I will make sure
you gain a proper perspective on just how horrific this medium is, my pretty
baby boy."
"Baby ... boy ... " Lyn pursed his lips. "Really?" He
lifted his head off the mattress when Riley hopped off him and motioned for him
to stay, shaking a fist threateningly at the door of the bedroom.
Lyn rolled his eyes and called to the then empty doorway, "You realise I
could just sit up if I chose to, yes? That the belt isn't tied to anything,
right? That I'm willingly lying here and under no circumstances do you have any
control over the fact that I am still on the mattress?"
He cocked his ear and listened to sounds that, had he been standing alongside
Riley, would have probably sounded quite day-to-day normal. From the vantage
point though, Lyn had no clue what Riley was doing, only that it sounded like
Riley might be in the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes at the impish grin and the
cup in Riley's hand when Riley returned. "What do you have?"
Riley shook the cup and the resulting jangle of hard and plastic could only be
one thing: "Is that ice?"
"I warned you."
"Mm hmm," Lyn began to sit up. "To reiterate my previous points
– you realise there's no way you can keep me here if I choose to get up."
Riley advanced with a slow, evil swagger. "I also realise that you are so
in love with me, that you would rather die than deny me anything."
Lyn looked up with mock-worry. "Aww, you poor thing! You fell and hit your
head when you were in the kitchen, didn't you?"
Riley climbed over the end of the bed like an advancing tiger, complete with
toothy, feral grin. And Lyn didn't stop Riley from straddling his shins and
knee-walking back up to his previous position. "And your plans now are ...
?"
He didn't need a reply when he saw Riley tip the glass into his mouth and snag
an ice-cube. He got one anyway. "Hoo abbage hoo."
Lyn squinted, tilted his head, and frowned. "Come again? Without the ice
in your mouth?"
Riley huffed a heavy sigh and spit the ice into his palm. "To. Ravage.
You."
"Ah." Lyn dropped his head back to the mattress and went through the
pretence of getting comfortable. "Carry on then."
With a clunk Riley reseated the ice in his mouth, caught it between his teeth
and leaned over Lyn with his lips open. It took Lyn a second to realise why
Riley was exhaling long breaths over the ice, right up until the first drop of
water fell on Lyn's cheek. A low chuckle rumbled from Riley's throat when Lyn
jumped and while he repositioned himself to do it again, Riley's hands dropped
to Lyn's waist and began to simultaneously work Lyn's sweater up, and Lyn's
t-shirt out of his pants. Layers, Lyn grinned at himself – gotta love 'em.
Another drop of water fell on Lyn's lips and he opened his mouth to both swipe
at the liquid, and advise that the water wasn't nearly as cold as one might
expect when it was warmed by breath first, when he caught Riley's stare. Riley
was watching Lyn's mouth with the intensity of a teenager watching his first
porn – as if, for whatever reason, the drops falling on Lyn's lips were as
salacious as semen. So instead of casual observation spiced with sarcasm, Lyn
went with seduction; drawing his tongue over his bottom lip with a slow, wet
slide, tilting his chin and parting his lips wider to catch a third drop with
the tip of his tongue as it fell.
Riley grunted around the ice, lowered his head and pressed the cube along Lyn's
mouth in a half-kiss, half smear. Fingers climbed under Lyn's shirt and trailed
his ribcage as water seeped between swelling lips, and Lyn caught his breath as
goosebumps jumped to life under Riley's touch. "Sorry baby," Lyn
grinned when Riley finally pulled back. "But I have to admit that you're
doing a lousy job of making me dislike ice."
The cube once again clacked as it was sucked back into Riley's mouth and shoved
into his cheek. "I'm getting there. Just wait." He took a long moment
to taste Lyn's lips, both sets as cold as the other, then slid farther down
Lyn's body as both hands finished the job of lifting sweater and shirt up as
far as Riley could manage. Everything in Lyn's body jumped when Riley turned
his oral attentions to Lyn's nipple and, instead of a warm mouth, the ice cube
was flicked to forefront and pressed against the sensitive nub.
"Ah, you fuck!" Lyn gasped, rolling his hips up and into a grind
against Riley's ass. Across Lyn's chest Riley dragged the ice, forcing a growl
and a shudder, while Riley's hands found the still rock-hard nipple and rolled
it between his fingers.
"Now see," Riley smirked, spitting the ice out and using his free
hand to hold it in place. "I was going to be nice until you started
swearing." Back and forth the ice went, freezing one nipple while
fingertips warmed the other.
"So, have you had enough? If so, this would be the time to swear that I
will never be subjected to such a wicked display of winter nastiness
again."
Lyn's response was not immediate. He could feel Riley's cock growing thick even
from behind both sets of jeans, his own already hard underneath Riley's ass.
And as much as he would have imagined himself hating the feeling of fingers
pinching skin already shocked by cold, the sensation was actually intensely
sensual. He was almost disappointed as frozen dissolved into water and trickled
down his sides.
"No answer, hmm?" Riley picked up the sliver of leftover ice and
thumbed it into Lyn's mouth. "Guess I better try harder then." He
reached over to the nightstand, scooped another cube out of the cup and dragged
it from sternum to belly. With an evil smirk, he placed it in the hollow of
Lyn's belly button and left it there.
"Fuck me, that's cold," Lyn hissed. "Take it off!"
"Not until you promise."
Lyn twisted his hips sharply to the right, gasping as cold deepened.
"Riley, I'm warning you ... "
"Uh uh!" Riley leaned over Lyn, used his hips to hold Lyn's in place,
and caught Lyn's arms as Lyn made to move them. Riley's breath was hot on Lyn's
face, both cocks were hard as they each sought friction against each other, and
when Lyn opened his mouth to reiterate disapproval, Riley caught him in a rough
kiss.
It wasn't obvious to Lyn what made him squirm more, the cold transferring into
pain or the way Riley moved against him. And just as the ice was too much to
take, as if Riley somehow knew it was the pivot point from game to rage, he
pushed his hands between them, caught the ice in his fist, and popped it in his
own mouth.
Riley didn't have to tell Lyn to leave his arms where they were. Even though
the belt was loosening, even though Lyn could have simply shaken it off, when
Riley's wet fingers began to work at removing Lyn's jeans, Lyn kept his arms
above his head and simply watched. He continued watching when Riley shifted on
the mattress and pulled clothing off his own body as well.
"Now then," Riley mumbled, climbing between Lyn's legs instead of
over them. He rested on his knees and slowly stroked the anxious flesh
straining against Lyn's belly, reacquiring the cup with his free hand. He shook
it once, jangling the final cube within. "You have one last chance to
prove you deserve my mercy, sir."
Lyn shook his head back and forth in exaggerated denial. "No way. I love
winter. And I love being out in the snow."
Riley shrugged and tilted the ice into his mouth. "Hen I huggest hwe het a
hog."
"You suggest we get a hog?"
Riley repeated the final two words around the ice cube.
"A log?" Lyn teased.
Sucking the ice, Riley made no further attempts at speech other than the
mumbled, "Hoo asked for it." He scooted farther down the bed, put
both hands on Lyn's hips and lowered his head towards Lyn's cock.
"Wait!" Lyn laughed, fingers already clenching in their binds.
He paused only for a quick second—still sucking the ice cube, still rolling it
around his mouth—to see if Lyn would cave and when no such promise was
forthcoming, he closed the inches between lips and cock.
"Oh, come on," Lyn panted, gasping when Riley's way too cold tongue
began to run the length of his cock. "There must be something about winter
you like!"
"Un unh," Riley wrapped his lips around Lyn's head, working cold over
muscle with suction and vibration in a way that made Lyn's throat huff a sharp
breath and his hips jerk towards the sensation even as his mind told him to
pull away from it. Lyn had to give him kudos if for nothing else than his
ability to manage both flesh and ice cube in one orifice.
He whined when Riley pulled away, not if the sound was in relief, confusion or
disgust to the fact that Riley was no longer sucking his cock. "How about
skating?"
Riley shook his head and spoke around the ice-cube. "Nope. Broken wrist,
fourth grade."
The mattress shifted, Lynn felt Riley move between his legs again, and his
entire body shuddered when his right ball was sucked in alongside of the ice.
The cold made him shout out, two fingertips found his hole, and a much warmer
palm began to stroke his cock. Instinct forced a sharp tug away from the
offensive sensation, the movement impaled him on Riley's fingers, and assisted
the friction of Riley's grip. "Hnn ... ! Ha ... damn." And just
before the process teetered from shocking to painful, Riley released him. The ice-cube
clattered as it fell back in the cup. Neither hand, however, stopped their
individual pursuits.
"Sorry," Riley's voice was a light tease. "You were saying?
Something about 'hnn?'"
"Ha ... " Lyn's brain faltered, he flailed without movement, his
tongue working at trying to find speech. "H-hockey. Everybody likes
hockey."
"Nope. Eight stitches under my chin on my thirteenth birthday." The
fingers inside him crept deeper, wiggling against one another in a mind-blowing
tease of nerve-endings.
"Tobogganing?"
"Sprained ankle, Christmas break, first year of college." Riley
grinned when Lyn's body jumped as sensitive glands reacted to pressure. A clear
run of fluid worked itself free of Lyn's cock and ran over Riley's fist.
"S-s-snowballs?"
"Ice chip in my left eye when I was eight. Wore an eye-patch for six damn
weeks. Got damn good at saying arrgh, mind you."
"Jesus, Riley," Lyn's tongue felt thick enough to gag him. His brain
was getting too slow to process new questions. "Snow men?"
"Made one," Riley nodded. "I think I was five. Did it all by
myself too. I'd just got finished sticking the carrot in its damn face when a
bunch of older kids came by and stomped it into the ground." He moved up,
leaned closer and caught Lyn's chin in a light bite before licking a line up
Lyn's jawline. All the while his fingers worked as far and as furiously as they
could inside Lyn's body. "I fucking hate snow men."
Riley's cock was hard and heavy as it twitched on Lyn's stomach and Lyn's
fingers wiggled and flexed at the thought of touching it. "Okay, okay,
okay," Lyn breathed, hungry for more, desperate to wrap his arms around
Riley's shoulders and drag the man inside him. "No more snow. No more ice.
Hell, I won't even make you walk outside in a bad rain if you quit playing the
hell around and fuck me for God's sake."
He would have loved to say the look on Riley's face wasn't smug as Riley moved
away. He would have been lying if he'd dared to though.
With chest pounding and breath hitched Lyn watched Riley transfer his hand from
Lyn's cock to the nightstand and snatch up a bottle of lube. Lyn narrowed his
eyes at Riley's smirk as liquid was stroked over Riley's dick. "What are
you up to?"
"About one point eight metres on last check. You?"
"Ha. Ha." Lyn deadpanned.
"You've gotten kind of mono-syllabic, Mr. Jones. Everything okay?"
As much as Lyn would have loved to commend Riley on his choice of words, he
couldn't take his eyes off Riley's hand: the way Riley gripped his own cock,
the shine of slick over Riley's fingers, the slow slide. "Damn ... "
"That hardly sounds like a proper answer, Lyn." Riley let his hand
slip off the end of his dick and with the same slippery fingers he picked the
ice up again. He rolled it slowly in his palm, coating it in the lube, and with
a devilish grin, Riley pulled his fingers from the depths of Lyn's body and
held the ice against Lyn's hole.
"Aw, fuck!" Lyn shouted loud enough that the words bounced off the
bedroom walls and came back at them.
"Now, now, I thought you liked ice. Think of it as art," Riley
chuckled, teasing the torturous, slipping, dripping chunk over Lyn's crack,
hole and taint. "Whoops."
For a second Lyn just laid flat, completely unsure what 'whoops' could entail,
finally associating the sound of something hard skipping over hardwood as the
fact that Riley had dropped the ice and not, in fact, lost it elsewhere.
"Now you pay," he panted, catching Riley's eyes with his own and
forcing his wrists out of the belt at the same time.
"That sounds fun—"
Lyn tackled Riley flat, effectively cutting him off and switching their
positions at the same time. With one hand he fought the lid off the bottle of
lube, with the other he wrestled Riley's leg over his shoulder and before he
could even consider the fact that Riley could easily overpower him, Lyn lined
up and shoved the head of his cock inside Riley's body. He paid no mind to the
following hiss though did allow the shift of hips for angle and ease of
acceptance, and worked the next few inches in with a slow, far more forgiving
push.
One strong leg wrapped around Lyn's waist, one firm palm found one of Lyn's ass
cheeks, and one set of lips found the other in a fumble that refused to
identify its director. Not that it mattered. Neither of them cared who'd initiated,
only that they were both starving for it. While Lyn held his weight on both
arms, Riley kneaded Lyn's ass, using the grip to control Lyn's thrusts. With
his free hand Riley jerked himself.
The heat of Riley's body was a welcome and all-consuming change of sensation.
It made Lyn's legs tremble with exertion they shouldn't have been suffering
with. It made his mouth and throat dry as his body worked to force more air
inside seemingly failing lungs. It made every nerve feel as though they'd been
hard-wired to his cock.
"Cumming," Lyn huffed.
"Already?" Riley's surprise was only half-jest.
"Lots of ... errm ... can I use the words 'warm up' if we were using
ice?"
"Nope," Riley shook his head, his hand sliding over his cock
furiously. "You'll have to think of something else. At least it'll
distract you."
Lyn sighed as his body let go, his cock oblivious to Riley's resulting growl,
the entire process more relief than bliss.
"Aw, you suck," Riley teased, more truth in his tone than he'd
probably intended, Lyn was sure.
"Well, since you asked nice," Lyn grinned. He pulled to his knees
while Riley slid up against the headboard.
"I want to watch. See if it looks as pretty on your lips in white as it
did clear." Riley smiled, "I can guarantee it won't be cold this
time." They caught eyes as Lyn descended and Riley started stroking his
cock again. "Just the head okay? It'll go fast like this."
"I don't care if it takes all night," Lyn mumbled, dragging his lips
over Riley's glans.
"That's because you're not the one leaking all over the sheets,
beautiful."
Lyn didn't argue the fact they could easily change linen. He just followed the
request, drawing lips and tongue over the head of Riley's cock and meeting
Riley's fist with an unintentional kiss every time Riley's stroke brought the
quickly working hand back up. He didn't break the connection until the thighs
beneath his forearms flexed and Riley's breath was being held. Lyn didn't have
to be told to stay in place, wouldn't have dared to pull away regardless of the
fact that Riley's free hand found his hair with enough pressure to sting. He
just looked up and watched Riley's face watch his mouth, revelling in the rush
it brought him when Riley coughed a sound of choked pleasure, rested his cock
on Riley's bottom lip and came.
"Okay," Riley panted. "I'll make you a deal. I'm totally in for
snow trampling in any form you see fit if I get to play with the ice when we
get home. That was fun."
Lyn dropped on to the mattress and closed his eyes, dragging an open palm over
his face to rid what hadn't fallen where his tongue could swipe. "Oh, now we're
negotiating, are we? Well tell you what. That's a deal then. But what do I get
when I get dragged to your parent's house and have to listen to your father
talk about his days in the army? I mean, seriously Riley. He didn't even see
active duty."
"Please tell me you're not asking for some gun play, you sick
bastard," Riley said in mock-horror.
Lyn laughed and smacked at Riley's leg.
"Oh my God," Riley continued, the pseudo disgust compounding in his
voice. "You want to have sex with my father, don't you?" He slid down
beside Lyn and wrapped his leg over top. With closed eyes, Lyn felt the kiss
get pressed on his forehead. It was a softer, more serious voice that spoke
against his skin. "That was fun, Lyn. I like it when you make me like
things I despise."
"Cool," Lyn mumbled back, turning to bury his face against Riley's
chest. "Tomorrow we make snowmen."
The End
Copyright © 2012 AF Henley