Conventional Wisdom

Conventional Wisdom

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

Twenty-five minutes, seven unnecessary back-patted thank-yous, and two whiskey sours later... yet Parker still struggled to control his shaking hands. He despised speaking in front of people – in any way, shape or form. He hated stages, boardrooms, classrooms; he even loathed the dinner table at family get-togethers. He’d rather not get the award, let Uncle Joe say grace and tell the kiddies to go ask their parents for moral-support.

Public speaking could bite his ass.

This particular convention was no exception to the rule. His publisher had started asking him back in January; cajoling, suggesting, recommending that it would be beneficial to everyone. After the third decline, Parker’s agent came sweeping in to put the pressure on. She’d tried the standards... “Do it as a favour to me,” and “you’ll have a great time,” before she began to ramp up the pressure and really grind his gears. “Do you just not like me anymore? If you don’t care about yourcareer will you at least care about mine? After all I’ve done for you...”

The woman could put the skills of mothers worldwide to utter shame.

He hadn’t confirmed until then end of July, which, to his ridiculously gratifying satisfaction, at least had the conference scrambling last minute to fit him in. He spent August writing the speech. Then he spent September rewriting it, fretting over it, tweaking, highlighting, deleting, reorganizing, shuffling, bemoaning, and bitching about it. The entire first two weeks of October he could neither eat nor sleep in apprehension of it.

The plane ride had been excruciating. Well, more so for his agent than for him. After all, she was the one who had to listen to him whine about his stomach, his head, his right ear and his sore throat. She was the one who had to point calmly at the folder on his laptop when Parker began to throw a full-out fit because he’d ‘lost’ the document that held his speech. Then she’d simply stuck his ear-buds in his ear and used his credit card to purchase an in-flight movie. Parker had spent the next ninety minutes pouting that he was being treated like a child.

Okay, the next thirty. After all, who wouldn’t have gotten caught up in Disney’s version of Rapunzel?

He’d flat-out refused to attend the opening night dinner with the convenors – pulled a grownup’s version of digging in his heels and shrieking at full capacity while flailing his arms. Which pretty much meant he just kept saying, “No, no, no,” while staring at his flickering screen, half-naked and on his third beer.

For all that self-imposed angst though, Parker had to admit that the speech had gone fairly well. He’d got the requisite audience chuckles, smiled nicely at those he could see, spoke loudly for those he couldn’t, and gave everyone the impression he was adorable, clever and amusing. But he could hear the tremor in his voice. He could see his hands shaking as they fumbled with the papers in front of him. And damn it, those aww’s from the ladies in the audience when he’d cleared his throat and apologized for his nervousness were just... awkward!

Parker drained his glass, set it down with a harsh clunk, and glanced around for his agent, silently jovial when he couldn’t catch sight of her. He dove for his suit jacket, covertly slunk to the far wall and began a slow, sliding retreat towards the glowing red “EXIT” for the balcony.

The wind that swept off the river was cold enough to knock the breath from him. A fine mist fell, dancing and swirling in balletic grace within the orbs of the streetlights. In the cold night air, the particles had only a few moments play before gravity weighted them and landed them. There, freezing water clung to previously felled partners in a silvery sheen that hardened into the bitchiest, but most beautiful ice blanket an eye had ever seen.

Tucking under the overhang, Parker dug for his concealed cigarette pack and while keeping a close eye on the door, knocked one of the tubes free. Hands that now shook more from chill then nerve, lifted flame to paper and Parker took a long drag of murky smoke.

“Are you always that nervous?” A deep, calm voice pulled Parker’s attention from the haze and towards the far corner. Oblivious to the chill, or perhaps in spite of it, a tall form propped forearms on the iron-rod railing, one foot resting on the bottom bar, the other still on concrete. Thick, short hair and open jacket rustled against wind current.

Parker looked to the left, to the right, and back to the man just beginning to unfold himself from his pose. Parker pointed, finger to chest, cigarette dangling. “Who? Me?”

A low chuckle was followed by footfalls. “I don’t see anyone else?”

Parker would have to give the stranger that one. Though the light beyond the glass window was alive with people and activity, out there in the dark and the falling ice fragments, they were alone. Feigning disinterest, Parker forced his eyes away and turned his attention to the street. He shrugged. “Public speaking. It’s an Achilles’ heel for a lot of folks I hear.”

“Such a phrase...” At 5’-11” Parker didn’t usually have to look up to see someone. This man however, stood a good head taller than him. 6’-4”? Parker mused. More? Nice build though. Wide shoulders. Hard to see much behind a suit jacket and in the dark, but it appeared to fill well. And the man was free of the paunch that most men their age seemed to carry around.

“Sorry, what?” Parker tilted his head, squinting to keep the smoke out of his eyes.

The man’s face softened with a slow smile as Parker desperately tried to detail features in the lack of lighting. Dark eyes? Yes, brown probably. Dark hair for sure. Not black though, just a deep brown. Firm jaw, not too chiselled. Okay, Parker decided. An eight out of ten.

“At least,” his conscience chided.

“Achilles’ heel,” the man continued. “Are you actually familiar with the term or do you just throw it out there like everyone else?” Fabric shifted and the man pressed beside him under the overhang. “A seemingly small but crucial weakness. Fatal even.”

The man’s voice had a tenor that ignited small fires on Parker’s nerve endings. Parker snorted, but the sound met the air weak and huffed. “I don’t think I have to worry about stage fright causing fatality anytime soon. But thanks for the concern.”

When Parker flashed a glance to his right, the man was watching him. “Kahn,” the stranger said, holding out his hand. “My name is Kahn.”

Parker didn’t normally shake hands with strangers. He didn’t normally introduce himself. For that matter, he barely made eye contact. So when his hand reached out for Kahn’s, as if without directive, and his mouth opened to form the words, “I’m Parker Theissen,” Parker could have just about died from self-astonishment.

Kahn leaned in, wrapped warm fingers around Parker’s freezing ones, and chuckled. “I know.”

A blush rushed up Parker’s neck. Of course Kahn knew. The man had obviously heard the speech. “Are you here for the rest of the convention as well?” Kahn asked while his eyes roamed Parker’s face and upper body. “Or do you leave tomorrow?”

“Haven’t decided,” Parker said. And though his voice was firm, his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. For one thing, the lean that Kahn had performed brought them surprisingly close to Zone Violation territory. And yet the rush that was hitting Parker’s body had nothing to do with the get-the-fuck-away-from-me-feeling Parker normally got.

Secondly, Kahn had still failed to release Parker’s hand. And that was bringing its own variety of rushy-happy feelings coursing into his blood. “You?”

“I’m here for the duration,” Kahn nodded. His grip tightened on Parker’s once before slowly letting go. “Maybe I’ll see you around then.”

Kahn lifted from the wall and stepped towards the door. He paused in the doorway and the glow finally offered a proper view. Parker’s breath caught. Elucidation of just how attractive Kahn actually was overpowered his ability for speech.

“Nine-point-five,” Parker heard his conscience correct. And he didn’t argue it.

Kahn nodded. “If you choose to stay, of course.”

Parker watched, intrigued, as Kahn stepped into the busy room and was swallowed by the crowd. While his eyes milled over guests and his fingers and mouth performed the ritual of smoking, Parker’s mind wandered. It was already rebooking return flights and extending his reservation.

.o.O.o.

Parker wandered the after-party for an hour and a half, doing his best to convince himself that he wasn’t still there just because he was keeping an eye out for Kahn. At least it served to thrill both the CEO of the publishing house and his agent to unfathomable amounts of amusement. “What?” he could almost hear them saying in whispered, unmasked shock. “Parker is mingling? And smiling? Parker is talking? Topeople? Socially?!”

He’d actually rolled his eyes at them so much over the course of the evening that he was giving himself a headache.

When he lifted his hand to both parties in a good-bye salute at 11:23, it was all he could do not to curl his lip in distaste at the glee in their waves back. Good, he thought. Let them make the change with the airline then. He scrawled a quick note at the bar, asked a bored but pretty waiter to deliver it, and passed the boy a ten-dollar bill for the trouble.

Parker was whistling when he left the room.

Double-wide stairs led down to the lobby and Parker took them two at a time. He dropped both arms on the front desk. “Hi!” he said to the surprised desk clerk.

“Hello, yourself.”

Parker made a little circle in the air with his finger. “I’d like to extend my reservation, please. I think I’m going stay for the rest of the conference.” He leaned over the counter as the clerk began typing. “It’s Parker...”

She smiled up at him. “Yes, sir. I know.”

“Oh.” Parker blushed. “Umm, cool.”

The clerk looked at the screen, frowned and resumed typing. Parker leaned forward again. “Problem? You’re not sold out are you?”

“No, no,” she said, giggling lightly. “Nothing like that.” Another chuckle found life. “Actually, sir? Your room has already been extended to Sunday.” Parker’s brow creased. Really? Already? There was no way his agent could have got the message that fast...

The clerk pointed at the screen. “There’s a note on the file?”

“Oh?”

She cleared her throat. “Please tell Mr. Theissen when he comes down to extend his visit that I have already taken the liberty of doing it for him. And that I’m glad he decided to stay.”

“Err...” Parker’s confusion grew. “Is there a name or anything?”

“Geez,” the girl said, struggling with what she found there. “Kain? Ka-w-n? It’s spelled...”

“Kahn.”

She nodded. “Probably. You know her?”

Parker lifted his eyebrows. “Him. And yes. Well, not really. But, yes.” He saw a smidge of concern flare in her expression. “It’s okay. That’s perfect actually. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sir.” She broke out the standard desk-clerk smile. “Enjoy your stay.”

.o.O.o.

Parker was debating stopping at the concierge desk and asking them to arrange for room service. The lack of dinner was starting to catch up with him and there was no way he’d ever have dared eat in front of the group at the party. He was stopped dead however when he stepped out of the elevator.

There, just past the concierge, amidst the tastefully done lobby and sprawled like a king in a lounge, sat Kahn. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his pensive gaze on the tall glass windows in front, and it was more than obvious that he was waiting.

“For me?” Parker asked himself silently. But, of course, Kahn had to be. Or... well... maybe not. Perhaps that was entirely too presumptuous of him. There could, after all, be other men Kahn was stalking at the moment. Other reservations that Kahn had tampered with and left odd little notes on...

“Hello, Parker,” Kahn said to the reflection in the glass.

“H-hi?”

It was hard to tell from the angle but Parker was pretty sure that was a smirk painted on Kahn’s face. “I thought I’d come up and see how the other half lives when they travel.” He finally turned, catching Parker’s eye over his shoulder. “I like it.”

Parker walked towards the couch slowly. “Oh? Really? Glad you like it. Umm, by the way… you changed… my reservation? Seems kind of strange. What if I decided not to stay?”

Kahn shrugged. “I had until six to cancel the reservation. I would have known by then. See?” He waved an arm around the lobby. “I found you waaaaay before six.”

“Ah,” Parker said, nervously twisting his room card. “I do see.” He bit the inside of his lip and willed his mouth to stay closed. It denied the request however, and recruited his arm to point down the hallway. “Would you like to come in?”

Kahn’s smirk returned. “Just like that, hmm? How do you know I’m not some kind of crazy predator?”

Parker shrugged, hopefully looking far more dangerous than he felt. “I’m tougher than I look. Besides, it’d probably make for great fiction.”

He was almost startled by the laugh that barked out of Kahn’s throat but he couldn’t hold back the shy grin in return. “Look at you,” Kahn mumbled. “Mere hours and already shaking free from that tight little shell of yours.”

Parker didn’t shrink away when Kahn rose and began to move towards him. Nor did he pull back when Kahn lifted a hand and brought it to his cheek. The touch was so light it was barely there. “I would love to come to your room with you.”

“Wine?” was the only word that Parker could think to say.

Kahn leaned, whispered in his ear. “As in... should we order some?” A hot flick of tongue against lobe set fire to Parker’s brain. “Or as in... will I make you?”

Time stuttered. Breath failed. And for just one quick second, Parker thought he might actually swoon like a teenager at a Bieber concert.

“I’ll follow you,” Kahn murmured. And Parker’s shoulders were turned back towards the hall.

.o.O.o.

Kissing a stranger had always been something Parker had steered away from. Fuck a stranger? Sure, if he was lucky – caution and consent, two grown adults, do what you choose. Kissing, however, was one of the most intimate things Parker could think of. He didn’t get much in the way of warning though.

They’d both toed their shoes off at the door and slipped out of jackets. Parker had stepped into the suite, turned to ask Kahn if he wanted a drink, and been met full on by the onslaught of Kahn’s lips.

Parker would have pulled away too, at least shifted his chin in that manner that usually got followed by the slippage of tongue towards jaw and throat. But Kahn tasted like cognac and cigarettes, the hidden undertones of vanilla and oak wrapped around a talented and inquisitive tongue. Besides, Kahn’s hand had found the back of Parker’s head and wound itself into hair, insistently pressing them together.

Parker rallied with the internal ramblings that told him he didn’t have a choice in the matter. That he was swallowing kisses not because he was drowning in the feeling of Kahn’s mouth—not because the erotic slide of wet muscle was making him dizzy with need—God, no.

Parker’s fingers traced along the edges of Kahn’s belt, felt the smooth hardness of his back behind the cotton shirt, the firmness of his ass beneath the slacks. They ground together slowly, dancelike, using each other’s body as fuel to ignite the burn.

When Kahn lowered his hand from hair to back and from back to ass, it was all Parker could do not to fall into the touch.

Parker tilted his hips, leaned back, disengaging their lip-lock, “I need...” Parker faltered.

“Mmm,” Kahn urged, his voice low and husky. “What do you need?” He waited for an answer before nudging Parker’s chin with his own. “Please, do tell. I would love nothing more than knowing what it is you need from me.”

Other than the brush of clothing and hand, the room remained silent. Parker tried to turn back into a kiss and Kahn moved his face away. “You know, Parker, I like you. A lot. I mean, not you-you, I don’t even know you. But I like your words. I like the way you think. I’ve been a fan of yours...”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Parker growled. “I do not want to hear that bullshit right now.”

Kahn grinned. “Ah, see. I can get you to speak. I just have to press the right buttons.” Hands gripped Parker’s ass almost too firmly. “Was it me? Did you mean to say, ‘I need you?’ Was that what you wanted to tell me?”

Kahn pressed them together again and flurries of activity erupted throughout Parker’s body from brain to toes. The most Parker was able to provide in reply was a simple nod. “Then may I ask you to indulge me of something?”

Parker paused, frowned. If Kahn was about to pull out rope or chain... Well, he might not run but he damn well wanted to be talked into it at least.

Kahn smiled. “I had a grandfather who used to say that there is a lesson in everything.” Kahn began to kneel. “Do you know the best way to overcome a phobia, Parker?”

Long fingers and smooth palms stroked Parker’s thighs. “Familiarity,” Kahn continued. “Getting used to the phobia and realising it’s not nearly as daunting or terrifying as you thought. It’s harder with something like public speaking; I mean… it’s not like it’s a bug. I can’t just pick it up and show it to you and make you hold it.”

Parker reached for Kahn’s hands, caught Kahn’s gaze with his own, and slid them up and over his own cock. “Stop playing games,” he whispered, fascinating himself with the feel of Kahn’s fingers on his body. “Stop playing and start fucking.”

“Oh, no worries about that,” Kahn said, fingers spider-walking over the bulge in Parker’s pants, working up to his zipper. “I fully intend to fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

With a push of fingertip, button and zipper conceded, and fabric was nudged collectively to fall from hips and puddle at ankles. “But first,” Kahn took Parker’s cock in hand and smiled, “I’d really like to hear that speech again.”

Parker’s breath hitched. And he had no clue whether it was the rush that hit him with the pressure of Kahn’s palm, or the fear that spiked in his belly at the mention of the speech. “What? I… What?”

“Your speech,” Kahn repeated. “Would you say it again for me?”

Parker frowned. “I-I can’t. I mean… I don’t have... I don’t know... the words...”

“Bullshit,” Kahn growled, squeezing the growing length.

“A-ah,” Parker stuttered. “Please... Please, don’t.”

Kahn lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t what?” He began to move his fist in a slow, light stroke. “Don’t do this?”

Parker whined. Instantly his pride jumped to berate him. And just as quickly it was smacked down by need. “Don’t tease.”

Fake-concern became a small smirk. “Who me? Tease? Why ever would you think...” Speed increased in the dance Kahn’s fingers performed on Parker’s cock. “I’m waiting, Parker. The speech, please.”

Kahn leaned closer, his tongue snaking out to taste the tip of Parker’s body and Parker had to clamp his jaw together to keep from groaning out loud. Then Kahn merely pulled away and watched. “I’ll start when you do.”

“I-I... you’re kidding, right?”

From his perch at Parker’s feet, the grin on Kahn’s face looked almost feral. “I am not, no.”

A flush started to creep up Parker’s neck. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Kahn stated simply. “Trust me.”

Right, Parker thought. Ya, sure. “Trust me.” A complete stranger. No – a stalker! A crazy person! But damn, the way Kahn stroked his body felt nice. And that tongue’s talents did not limit themselves to kissing.

“Come on, Parker,” Kahn’s voice softened. “You can do this.”

Parker opened his mouth to speak, to tell Kahn there was no way, no chance in hell that he was going to say that speech again. The first time had been bad enough. Now he was standing all but naked, cock out and hard? Now that he had the focussed, individualized attentions of a self-proclaimed admirer? Not fucking likely.

Kahn, however, took the parting lips as the beginning of their game. And while Parker’s lips opened, so did his own. Wet heat met hardened skin, lips wrapped to his crown, and Kahn began to suckle the head of his cock.

Parker gasped, stuttered sound, and began to speak. “Senator and Secretary of State Daniel Webster has been quoted as saying, ‘If all my possessions were taken away from me with one exception, I would choose the power of speech.’ Formidable words, those. I wish I could say the say same.”

He felt more than heard the low moan from the mouth that began to swallow him. Parker’s hands flew to Kahn’s shoulders. His knees almost buckled underneath him. Silently he rode Kahn’s throat, hips complimenting the movement of Khan’s head, fingertips imbedding into skin.

Kahn pulled back slowly, cheeks hollow with suction until he reached the head of Parker’s cock. He released Parker’s body with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Do you like that?”

With a mouth that felt full of cotton, Parker stumbled over speech, “Y-ya-yes. I like it. Very much.”

“Mmm,” Kahn replied, following the words with another wet taste of flesh. “Then, please. Do keep talking. I find it very... inspirational.”

Parker didn’t even think about the rest of the words, spoke them like they were the alphabet. Caught in Kahn’s expression, muddled by vibratory sensation and immersed in heat, the rest of his sentences tumbled free without pause.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, and don’t forget – you paid for those shrimp. Eat them, damn it!” was not met with raucous clapping this time.

But it was met with a pop and a breathless, “Do you want to cum, Parker? Now, I mean? Do you want me to keep sucking your cock or do you want to fuck?”

And if that wasn’t a world better than palms on palms then nothing was.

“You said you would fuck me,” Parker answered, surprising even himself. Because his cock was so hard, and so needy at that moment, that anyone else asking the same question would have most certainly been staying on their knees and finishing the job – not rising with a hungry glare in their eyes and a raging hard-on trying to force itself out of dress-wear.

Kahn’s previously abandoned jacket was located and pillaged for foil squares and press-packs while Parker sat on the edge of the bed and watched Khan strip. From across the room, around teeth intent on package destruction, Kahn said, “Tell me something else, Parker. Keep talking.”

“I don’t know...” Kahn’s attention turned back quickly, stopping movement with latex at tip and hands poised to roll. Parker wanted to whine in frustration. “I don’t know what to say!”

“Anything.”

Kahn walked towards the bed, smearing fluid in a seductive pull that made Parker’s body twitch and his chest pound. “Nine-point-five,” Parker whispered.

Kahn stopped at the foot of the bed, tilted his head, “Hmm?”

“I thought you were an eight,” Parker said, his breath catching as Kahn leaned over, bracing on the mattress with one arm.

Kahn lowered his lips to Parker’s throat, scooping one leg in the crook of his free arm, directing it around his waist. “But?” Kahn prodded.

Fingertips began to circle Parker’s most sensitive skin and his eyelids fluttered in time with the movement. “But then I saw you in the light,” Parker continued. “And I knew I was wrong.” He groaned as the teasing digits began to push inside him.

“Well thanks for the rating,” Kahn teased. “I personally think it’s a little high but, you know... I’m humble.” Another low sound fell from Parker’s throat and Kahn caught his ear with the edge of his teeth. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to put my cock inside you and fuck you.”

Parker pushed into Kahn’s touch. “God, Kahn! I do. I want it. I want you.”

“Ungh,” Kahn groaned. “Close enough.” He didn’t thrust. He didn’t dig. Just slow, steady pressure that made Parker’s eyes want to cross with need.

Kahn’s lips kept a diligent trail around Parker’s neck and face. “Keep talking? And that’s just a request.”

“Can’t turn down the request…” Parker arched and grabbed for Kahn’s waist with a moan. “Ah, fuck! …of a fan.” He moved his hips against Kahn’s slow slide. “Please, Kahn. Fuck.” Parker’s cock was still so hard from their earlier play that it ached. And the gentle rocking was going to drive him crazy.

“More?” Kahn breathed into his ear.

“Ungh, fuck! More!”

When speed increased, though by only the slightest fraction, thought failed. Parker reached for his own cock and began to stroke himself in time to Kahn’s easy thrusts.

Kahn lifted himself up, holding his body above Parker’s, watching. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

Parker let his eyes drift closed. Every nerve in his body felt like it was perched on the edge of somewhere thrilling. He’d never been fucked quite so calmly – not by lover, or friend, certainly not by stranger. It was… interesting. The roll of hips, the casual slide, touched and lingered against spots inside of him that made him want to writhe against Kahn’s body. His legs were tensing so tightly that his thighs trembled. His breath, when released from the hold his lungs kept insisting on, puffed out hard and shaky before being pulled back and caught again.

It was Kahn’s lowered head and parted lips that did him in though. When he heard the moan, when he opened his eyes and saw the expression and the serenity in Kahn’s face, there was nothing Parker could do to stop himself from falling. His balls tightened, his cock swelled, and pleasure bloomed in his guts and swept through his body.

Parker saw Kahn put his head back and shout, but sound was lost to the pounding of blood in eardrums. Parker knew Kahn was cumming from the way his body trembled and flexed, but feeling was lost as Parker rode waves of sensation.

A long sigh wound from Parker’s belly before he even realised he was making sound. “Wow,” Parker breathed. “Nice.”

Kahn lifted his head, eyes lit, “Does that surprise you?”

“What’s that?”

“That I can be nice,” Kahn answered with an amused smile.

Parker laughed. “No. Okay, maybe a little bit.”

Even as hard cock began to soften into dick, Kahn continued to drop kisses on collarbones and chest.

He shivered as Kahn carefully withdrew from his body and again when Kahn traced fingertips through the splashes of release on Parker’s belly. A kiss to lips, a quick locked gaze, and Parker was listening to footfalls across carpet. Water ran, a towel was drawn off the rack, and Parker lay with half-focussed eyes on the ceiling. Shower – yes, he needed to shower. But he was tired. And lazily comfortable with the boneless repose of his spent self. He let his eyelids fall.

Parker grinned without refreshing sight when he felt the terry fall on him. He reached with both hands but Kahn was already wiping the cooling fluid away. “I can do that...”

“Shush,” Kahn warned.

“Oh, sure,” Parker teased. “Now you want me to be quiet.” Parker opened his eyes at the returning silence and was greeted by a tilting chin, parted lips, and attentive expression. He waited for Kahn to meet his mouth, delighting in the way that Kahn’s tongue instantly began to search for his own.

“You’re not going to make me say my speech again, are you?” Parker asked around Kahn’s attentions.

He felt Kahn smile against his lips. “Maybe. I was actually thinking ‘The Declaration of Independence’ might be better. Or having you sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’. Got a preference?”

“Yes, actually,” Parker found and secured one of Kahn’s nipples between his fingertips. “I think it’s your turn. Maybe something along the line of you gurgling on your own blood?” He tweaked the tender flesh with a sharp pinch.

Kahn flinched and hissed, “Sounds like good fiction.”

“Something about it sounds good, anyway.” Parker caught Kahn’s eye with an evil smirk. “Stay?”

“Stay?”

Parker nodded. “Ya, you know. We could hang out? Get breakfast? Pretend we like each other; that kind of thing?”

“Hmm, I... well...” Kahn studied Parker for a second, eyes flicking over Parker’s face. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Parker traced fingernails down Kahn’s naked spine. “And if you ever make me do something like that again, I’ll kill you.”

Kahn laughed. “Oh, you’ll be doing it again, all right. You’ll be doing it so often that you’re never going to be afraid to stand in front of someone and speak again – ever.”

Parker leaned forward and kissed him. “You think you’re that good, do you?”

“I know I am,” Kahn teased. “Besides, we’re going to get lots and lots and lots of practise.”

Parker drowned in Kahn’s kiss for a moment. “Sounds like a fun weekend.”

“Glad you stayed.”

Parker nodded. “Me too.”

“And now,” Kahn prodded.

“And now?” Parker questioned.

“More sex.”

The grin that lit Kahn’s face made Parker want to melt into bed sheets. “Fuck, yes,” Parker agreed. “More sex.”

Kahn flopped beside him on the bed and turned on to his side. “All right then, I’ll start you off.” Kahn cleared his throat, “O! say can you see by the dawn’s early light...”

“Oh, shut the fuck...” Parker sat up, twisted, and flung his leg over top of Kahn – and silenced the man with his mouth.

The End

Copyright © 2011 AF Henley