Sunday, August 10, 2014

After Party

After Party

*Story contains M/M relations and explicit sexual scenes.*

"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 ... "


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.


"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.


"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

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