Sunday, August 10, 2014



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

“Enjoying the flight?” the man beside him looked over and Matthew shot him an irritated look. If he’d wanted to chat, he would have lowered himself to economy and shared a bench with two other travellers. No... he’d boned up for first class, and the subsequent six-thousand-and-eighteen dollar round-trip price tag because he’d specifically wanted to hide behind headphones and sleep.

Matthew made the polite, but hopefully obvious display of turning his legs towards the window and shifting his body away. “It’s fine, thank you.”

The man ignored the body language and leaned closer, placing one leg out into the aisle. “Hair is fine. A flight is comfortable. Or boring. Or relaxing.”

Or annoying, Matthew thought.

“Ah,” the man said, “Rolling Stones magazine. A rock and roller at heart, are we?”

Matthew lifted his eyebrow and pasted on his very best are-you-seriously-still-talking-to-me expression.

“And he,” the man continued, pointing at the cover, “is gorgeous.”

Try as he might, the comment could not go completely ignored. Matthew sat back in his seat and let his peripheral wander over the man across the way: medium build, not too tall, nor too short, no spread around the middle but not too skinny either – olive skin, perhaps a touch of Eastern European, dark hair and eyes. Nice smile though, Matthew thought. It probably won the man a lot of attention when it got flashed around.

“I wonder if he’s gay?” Matthew’s conscience asked him.

Matthew shook the magazine to distract himself and opened it.

“I’m Calvin,” the man stuck his hand across open space and continued streaming his most blinding smile.

Matthew licked his finger, and brought it to the edge of the page. He flicked it over loudly. “That’s nice.” Instantly he winced and lowered the magazine. That had been uncalled for. Actually, it had been downright rude.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew apologized, clearing his throat. “I don’t mean to sound intentionally ignorant. I’ve just had a bitch of a time getting ready for this trip and God knows I need some time to relax. I’d just like to wind down, read my magazine, and catch some sleep before I get to LA. Thank you anyway.”

Matthew didn’t look over to see if Calvin lost his smile or not. Yet, for some unknown reason, he highly doubted it. His mind’s eye could picture the man, still leaning half in the seat, half in the aisle, grinning like a fox with dark eyes shining. Waiting. Maybe with a hand still extended.

He sighed, closed the magazine and turned, speaking, “I’m Matthew.”

“Hunh?” Headphones were pulled from Calvin’s head and once again he spun in Matthew’s direction.

Matthew tsk’d. “Nothing.”

“No, what?” Calvin urged. “Sorry... you said you wanted peace and quiet so I...”

“I know what I said,” Matthew snapped back. He rolled his eyes at Calvin’s confused look. “I just didn’t want to be rude. So I told you my name back. Never mind. It’s nothing important.”

“What was it?” Calvin insisted.

“What was what?” Matthew asked back coyly.

“What was your name?”

“Well I don’t know about was,” Matthew sniffed, “but my name is Matthew.”

“Ah...” Calvin said. “Very nice.” The cord to Calvin’s headphones was twisted around the unit and the resulting knot of appliance set aside. “And you’re from Philadelphia?”

“Close enough,” Matthew agreed.

“Me too!” Calvin smiled, patting his chest gleefully. “And you’re on your way to…?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Well considering the plane lands in LA, I’d say there’s a pretty good bet that I’m...”

Calvin cut him off, shaking his finger. “Not true. Not true at all. Could be a connecting flight.”

“Ah.” Matthew said, silently grumbling. “I suppose you’re right.”

The two men paused while a flight attendant walked past, flashing a big, happy expression at Calvin. Matthew fought back another eye roll as Calvin beamed a return one back.

“So what are we doing in LA?” Calvin continued as though the break had never taken place.

“Errmmm,” Matthew began to play with the monitor in front of him, scrolling through selections. “Vacationing.” A series of taps brought him a movie listing that was laughably lacking, but would have to do. He reached for his wallet and fished out a credit card, tapping the screen with it when Calvin caught his eye. “Movie time for me. Enjoy your flight. And your trip. And... whatever.”

“So, what are you watching?” Calvin asked, almost before Matthew even finished his sentence.

Matthew shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe the new Vin Diesel movie.”

“Unf,” Calvin swooned dramatically. “He’s fucking hot.”

Matthew didn’t reply.

“Oh, come on!” Calvin urged. “Tell me you don’t think so!”

Matthew gritted his teeth.

“Seriously! Matthew! I mean... Vin-fucking-Diesel? He’s like... godlike. Those muscles, those eyes, that...”

Two other travellers turned to shoot Calvin curious looks and a blush began to grow up Matthew’s neck. “Why are you talking to me?” Matthew hissed.

Calvin shrugged. “You’re here?”

“So is that guy!” Matthew shoved a thumb in the general direction of anywhere else.

Calvin followed the move with his eyes and furrowed his brow while he studied the next traveller. Then he leaned across the aisle and whispered conspiratorially, “But I don’t think he’s gay.”

Matthew frowned. “Wait... what?”

A grin lit Calvin’s face. “Go ahead. Tell me you’re not.”

“First of all,” Matthew sputtered. “That is none of your goddamn business! And secondly, what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Calvin wiggled his eyebrows and tilted his head towards the washrooms.

Understanding dawned on Matthew’s face so slowly he was sure it must have been comical. “You arrogant... you... tell me that you didn’t even hope... I mean, surely!”

“Oh, come on!” Calvin twisted into the aisle further, both legs now in the walkway. “You’ve never wanted to try it? Become a member of the Mile-High Club?”

“Not with a random stranger!” Matthew sniffed.

“I’m not a stranger,” Calvin retorted. “We’re on a first name basis here!”

“First names only!” Matthew snorted. “I don’t know anything about you!”

“What do you want to know?” Calvin asked.

The first thing that came to mind was: where in the fuck you manage to keep balls that big? The second was: who in the hell told you that you were good enough to be this cocky? The final was: I wonder just how big the bathrooms are in first class anyway?

Matthew shook his head to stop the chain of thought. “Nothing you could tell me between here and LA would be enough to convince me to go have sex with you. Dude, I mean, seriously!”

“You have a boyfriend?”

Matthew frowned. “No...”

“Lover? Husband? Significant other? Busboy you’ve been fawning over? In love with your Boss?”

Matthew growled. “No...”

“Contagious disease? Jock-itch?”


“Claustrophobic? Mysophobic? Coitophobic? Philophobic?”

Matthew huffed. “I don’t even know what half of those things mean! So, no! No phobias, no illnesses, no relationships! Just good old fashioned morality and self-respect, thank you very much!”

“Oh,” Calvin sat back with a wounded expression. “I didn’t mean... Of course... I’m sorry. My ignorance. Forgive me.”

Matthew looked over, puzzled. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to make it sound like I thought you were immoral. Or lacking in respect of either self or anyone else for that matter. I just thought it would be fun, you know? Random and exciting – those things you read about or hear about or see in movies. I didn’t mean anything personal by it.”

“Hmph,” Matthew grunted. “Well. Good then.”

Matthew didn’t get five minutes into the movie before he began peeking over. Calvin was fiddling with a laptop, concentrating intently enough to be planning world domination through computer function. Matthew leaned back, shifted in his seat a bit, doing his best not to make it not look like he was looking and rolled his eyes so hard they crossed when he saw the solitaire game on the screen. That was what the man was so focussed on? Ridiculous.

Sixty-eight seconds later, Matthew’s eyes were drifting Calvin’s way again. The nerve. The audacity. For a total stranger to even assume such a thing would be possible. As if he, a responsible adult, with a head on his shoulders and an ingrained sense of decency and principles would go running willy-nilly into a situation like that. Maybe if he was still eighteen and had no concerns over… well, anything!… Sure, maybe then he’d think it was hot to be cajoled into a wild and lascivious encounter out of the blue.

Matthew turned his annoyed concentration back to the movie. Damn though, Calvin was right. Vin Diesel was hot… and Matthew was staring back at Calvin again. No – Calvin, in theory, was much more his ‘type’ of guy. Burly guys were great and all but he preferred them leaner and smaller. So that when you ran your hands down their back, your fingertips could make out every trace of muscle linking to bone.

A puff of breath and twist of head and Matthew frowned at the movie he’d long since lost track of. You know, he argued silently with no one whatsoever, he’d spent a lot of time reassuring his place in the business world and making himself look responsible and trustworthy. Even if he’d wanted to he couldn’t risk that by jumping into airline cubbies with any good-looking guy that made a suggestion at him. After all, what if someone found out? What if, say on the off chance that Matthew had relented and gone traipsing into the washroom for a careless tryst, they were noticed by the staff? How did one explain that to one’s boss when they came back to work that he’d been dragged out by security, half-dressed and cock hard, and thrown into whatever kind of dungeon the airline probably kept for deviants and troublemakers? Oh, sure. That would be just great.

Matthew sighed. The story of his life, this internal debate. When had Matthew ever taken the chance to do anything fun or crazy? Ever since he was a kid he’d been trying to fight himself on anything that could have been considered even remotely wild. He’d been too long at personifying Mr. Perfect actually. When everyone else had been at bush parties and keg parties he’d been trying to get perfect SAT scores. When high school had morphed into college, and all the other students had been at frat parties and spring-break benders, he’d been making sure his GPA was the best in his class. His college internship had led directly to a full-time placement and he’d fought for the next several years to shine like a beacon amidst the sea of hopefuls. Now he was a hair’s breadth away from twenty-six with no lover, no friends to speak of, and all out of time. But hey, he drove a Beamer.

And why the hell, he thought, looking up with an expression of fury, had he not been offered a drink yet? He hadn’t seen a flight attendant since the last one had walked by, and she’d been so intent on sending Pretty Fucking Calvin her whitest-whites and brightest-brights that she hadn’t even bothered with him. This was first-freaking-class for God’s sake! Where was the alcohol?!

All right, Matthew decided, he couldn’t really blame the woman. Calvin had that boyish come-fuck-me charm practically oozing out of his pores. Matthew had no doubt, with a pretty face like Calvin had, that the word ‘no’ had not met Calvin’s ears that regularly. Still, the man had pulled back without argument once Calvin had realised that Matthew couldn’t be seduced quite so easily. Not that Calvin had really laid it on or anything. In all honesty, Calvin hadn’t said anything worse than what Matthew had heard in a bar. Or that one time in an elevator. Or, really, that time at Uncle Carl’s birthday party. And hell, that had been one of Matthew’s own cousins.

Besides, Calvin wasn’t the only one that had read stories, watched porn, and wondered, with closed eyes and fisted cock, what it would be like. A random stranger, a chance encounter, a sordid rendezvous in the strangest of locations… fiction like that had a place for a reason.

Movement drew Matthew’s attention. He watched Calvin set the laptop aside, draw from the seat in a long, sweeping step and stretch as much as one possibly could in a plane. Out of all the bodies Matthew had seen in the last few years, Calvin’s was definitely worth a moment of praise. It didn’t look like Calvin kept the worst hidden behind clothing either. Not when the arch of spine presented a peek of skin between denim and shirt, not when the tanned flesh of toned belly winked at Matthew as fabric shifted; no, that was most certainly appealing. Intriguing even. Sexy.

“Then go,” Matthew’s conscience spoke up again. “Follow him.”

But he couldn’t. He just… no. There was no way. Could he?

Matthew looked over his shoulder, watched as Calvin stepped towards the passageway whereby the restroom sign marked the space as ‘unoccupied’.

He’s probably not even interested anymore, Matthew thought. After all, Matthew had all but called the man a slut. And yet Matthew’s mind kept running through the sound reel, “I just thought it would be fun. I just thought it would be fun. I just thought it would...”

Leg muscles were pulling him from his seat before he even consciously realised he was making his move. While Matthew’s self-control started whispering, “Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Oh, fuck,” long hurried strides marched him down the aisle after the departing figure.

Matthew was quite sure that Calvin was not expecting to be pushed into the small bathroom from behind, an assumption confirmed by the quick spin and flash of canines as Calvin turned. The fury, however, quickly dissolved into pleased surprise when he caught Matthew’s gaze. “Oh…”

“Shut up,” Matthew said. “Don’t say anything. Or I’ll change my mind.”

“Fuck, yes,” Calvin breathed, leaning back against a miniscule sink.

“What part of don’t say anything did you miss…” Matthew started and was cut off as Calvin reached around them, snapped the lock over and continued the movement until Matthew was caught against the door.

“What can I do?” Calvin asked, breath lighting fabulous flames along sensory nerves in Matthew’s skin.

Matthew could feel the flush advancing, and he had no idea if it was embarrassment, apprehension or plain ol’ lust. “I have no fucking idea.”

Hands found Matthew’s belt buckle and he fought his instinct to smack them away. “You ever done this?” Calvin’s voice was deep and hot and way too freaking close to Matthew’s ear and all Matthew could do in response was shake his head no.

“Me either,” Calvin confirmed. “In case you didn’t catch that from our conversation. I mean, I’ve had sex with men, of course. But not like this. You know?”

Matthew nodded, “No. Yes. I do.” He gasped when fabric was pressed back, down and skin released to air. “Shit…”

“I have a condom,” Calvin whispered. “If you want me to… I mean, if you’ll let me.”

As answer, Matthew groped forward to start his own version of the undressing process Calvin had almost completed. “We won’t have long,” Matthew said, before biting his tongue at the neediness in his voice.

Calvin caught his eye, grinned. “I won’t need long.”

“No,” Matthew agreed, sighing in relief when Calvin’s clothing finally complied with his urgent fingers. “Nor I.”

Pants pooled at both feet, socks and shoes remained, and Calvin pressed Matthew against the wall while he descended. Floor space, any space, was at a premium but Calvin didn’t appear to mind the close quarters. Both arms circled Matthew’s thighs, palms clutched handfuls of buttocks, and tongue and lip alone found Matthew’s responding body.

A stranger, Matthew thought. A total stranger was mouthing his cock. A man he had no clue of, about… someone that maybe Matthew didn’t even care to know, had parted lips and was working heating flesh into solidity. He groaned, leaned back to let the wall take his weight, and tentatively reached for Calvin’s hair. Breath caught in his throat when Calvin responded to the touch by taking him deeper.

“Shit,” Matthew whispered. And where he got the nerve to hold Calvin there, to lightly fist the hair between his fingers and just hold the man in place, Matthew had no idea. But it felt good. It felt awesome in fact.

By the time Matthew let go, Calvin was forced to suck back a deep gulp of air. It didn’t stop him though. Calvin merely dipped his head back to its previous position and began sucking again.

Matthew barely noticed the fingers roaming up his thighs, didn’t even realise he was spreading his legs to allow them access to bits that were hardening like ball bearings. Cool, cleverly placed digits trailed the smooth skin lightly, teasing, enticing, cupping parts of Matthew that he would have never believed he’d allow an unknown free range over. Hell, he barely trusted men he’d known and dated to be quite so… conscientious.

When Matthew’s cock was released Matthew dropped his gaze and watched Calvin slip two fingers between swelling lips. When Calvin removed them, slick and well coated, Matthew had no doubt what the intention for said appendages was. Thighs were separated just that much more, hips were tilted to a more compatible angle and when those two tips brushed sensitive skin, Matthew groaned. “Do it,” he whispered and Calvin parroted the expressive sigh.

There was no preamble, no build-up. Both fingers were pressed inside Matthew’s body as one unit, fingertip to knuckles. It felt… weird. Different. “No time,” Matthew snapped. “Just do it. Fuck me. Before we get caught.”

Calvin slid off him once again and frowned up. “Just like that? You’re sure?”

As Calvin rose, Matthew switched spots. Matthew rested both elbows on the sides of the sink small enough to belong to forest gnomes, and kicked his right foot out of the confines of his pants.

“Fuck, yeah,” he heard Calvin mumble from behind him.

Matthew sighed and lifted his head. “Today?”

Calvin scowled. “Demanding bitch!”

“And yet I still stand here waiting,” Matthew deadpanned. “While staff line up at the door and wait to bang it down.” He paused, and held back a smile at Calvin’s lifted eyebrow. “Just saying.”

Again Calvin’s fingers sought out and found his hole. “You’re lucky you’ve got such a pretty body, you know?” Both digits found home inside him again. “Or I’d be more than content just to quiet that mouth of yours with my dick.”

Matthew wiggled against the touch, impatient, nervous, as desperate for it to be over as he was for it to start. “Do it,” he growled.

“I’m trying to be nice,” was the chuckled response and Matthew gritted his teeth. “I know I suck a good dick but damn, seriously, I doubt you’re ready for it.”

Matthew lifted his head, caught his own reflection in the polished mirror, cheeks flushed and brow furrowed. He glared a hole in Calvin’s reflection until Calvin looked up and then locked eyes. “Stop wasting time and fuck me if you’re going to fuck me.”

“Shit,” Calvin said, wet fingers sliding away to grab his own cock. “It’s a good thing I think mouthy little bitches are hot you know that?”

He’d tell himself later that it was just the tension of getting caught, that it had nothing to do with the way Calvin was nudging against his sensitive hole – that it wasn’t need by any means that had Matthew rocking his hips back into the latex-slickened cock between his cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed. “If I have to say it one more time...”

Matthew didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. With a single punishing thrust Calvin breached the tight muscle and didn’t stop until every inch of cock was buried. Matthew gasped, fingers scrabbled for hold and he closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to cry out.

“Better?” Calvin asked with a smirk in his voice.

Matthew’s body burned, ached – clenched in an effort to either allow or force Calvin out, Matthew wasn’t sure which. “See?” Calvin said. “I told you that you weren’t ready.”

Forehead found mirror with enough force that Matthew might have worried about cracking it had he had the mindset to think of anything other than the cock in his ass. “F-fuck,” he choked. “Jesus, fuck!” Matthew leaned into the cool glass and willed his body to relax.

“Nice,” Calvin whispered with a shake in his voice. “You feel good.”

Fingers roamed up under Matthew’s shirt, exposing his back, palms traced sides and thumbs spine. A brace followed a lean, and then breath tickled the back of Matthew’s neck. The wandering hand sloped around to chest, down belly, palmed his cock. “Moving now,” Calvin breathed, startlingly close to his ear, and Matthew turned his head towards the sound. Lobe met mouth, tongue snaked out to locate and secure soft flesh between lips. It took Matthew a second to realise the low groan was his.

As the drag inside his body eased out, then drew back inside, repeating the pattern with slow, deliberate intensity, the hand on his cock increased friction and design. Matthew spread his legs just that much more, concentrated on the feel of the thick body inside him, the stroke, the tongue still working at his ear – the deviance of the whole moment.

“Shit,” Calvin said, waiting for Matthew to catch eyes in the mirror. “Nice view.”

Matthew struggled for something clever to say, failed at the attempt miserably, and finally just answered with a hitched affirmative that was nothing more than garble. His mind ran a mantra of ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck me’ while his breath played catch-up to his heartbeat. Had Matthew not caught his own lips moving in the mirror he would have never realised he was mumbling the words aloud.

“Hell, yeah,” Calvin agreed, squeezing tight before resuming the damnable slide on Matthew’s cock – that slide that was making his ears pound and his fingertips tense on laminate. “I knew you were hiding in there, you little faker. Coming across like you’re all in control and oh so perfect and here you are begging for it.”

Matthew tried to snarl, meant to at least growl his disapproval, but the only thing that left his throat was a hungry moan. Calvin’s mouth pressed kisses into his jaw, “And it’s fucking beautiful.”

The ache the lips on Matthew’s jaw inspired was mind-blowing. It took everything in him not to turn just that much further, catch lips to his own and taste the man behind them. And as if reading his mind, Calvin slipped away, lowered teeth to Matthew’s neck instead – small, sharp snaps that caused flashes of sensation to trace directly down Matthew’s spine and into his balls. Instinctively, he grabbed for Calvin’s wrist, gasped out a ragged, “Ah, fu... ah, damn! I... I’m going to cum...”

“Oh, thank fuck!” Calvin said in a way that almost amused, would have most certainly, had Matthew not already been curling his toes with the heat swarming from his body and gathering in every pleasure pinnacle he had.

Every muscle in Matthew’s body trembled with the advance and when the peak became ecstasy, when warm spray peppered fist and sink and belly, every one of them seemed to clench and release right alongside as well. He heard Calvin’s cry, hoped like hell he was the only one that did, but let himself get lost in the reflected display of Calvin’s face as latex was filled and air was gasped.

He expected awkward when Calvin pulled out, he didn’t expect the quick run of fingers through his hair. Or the lean that brought a nudge that felt way too close to light kiss on his shoulder.

“Lock the door as soon as I leave,” Calvin said around the sound of snapping latex and the swipe of paper. “Give yourself a couple of minutes and then follow me out.”

Matthew slowly straightened on legs that felt like noodles and a lower back that felt like it had met the wrong side of a pair of Docs. “And hey,” Calvin’s voice was soft, smooth. Matthew looked up, caught the dark eyes. “Thanks.”

He waited for the click, locked the door as directed, and then Matthew leaned back against the wall, took a deep breath and pushed his hair back with fingers that still shook like leaves in a windstorm. He cradled his head with both. And started grinning. He had... yes, he had just done that. Holy, Christ and goddamn he’d totally done it! And for the forty-two seconds it took him to clean up both self and sink, and get redressed he kept smiling. Even when he paused to shake his head at himself in the mirror – even when his heart started flipping with apprehension as to what waited on the other side of the door, the grin would not leave his face.

Though it felt like every set of eyes flashed his way as he headed back to his seat, Matthew convinced himself it was just an illusion of his anxiety. No Taser-bearing air-cowboys attempted to cuff him. No repulsed flight attendants sent him evil glares.

He slid into his seat, winced, silently thanked the fortune of first-class comfort, and picked up his abandoned magazine. Then he sat, fake-reading, still as a statue and forced himself not to look to his left. When that got too much he started counting, just to see if the numbers would help him hold out a little longer. “Don’t do it,” he told himself. Don’t make it look like you’re looking... And he managed to make it all the way to five before he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Calvin’s arms were behind his head, elbows wide, eyes closed. He sported his own little smirk of satiety. Why that made a rush of something heady race through Matthew’s body Matthew had no idea. Damn though... he was pretty... sitting there like that... looking like that.

Matthew closed his eyes and laid his head back against the seat. Did Calvin said he was from Philly too?... and as soon as the question popped into Matthew’s mind it was pushed away with a firm ‘Don’t.’


What if?

“Sir?” It wasn’t until he felt the hand on his shoulder that Matthew startled himself awake. “We’ve landed, sir. Welcome to Los Angeles.”

The first place he checked was the seat to his left which was, of course, empty. Matthew fumbled for his stuff, blinking his eyes back into life, trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his mind and all but stumbled off the plane into the teeming airport. Bus... there would be a bus... the travel agent had said... and he looked for a sign, a something, walking the fine line between disorientation and displacement. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. That always screwed him up.

The relief that hit him when he not only located the pickup spot for the shuttle service to the resort but plopped himself into the bench seat of the bus with yet another wince, was almost spiritual. He shifted, frowning at the differences in venue. After all, one would expect, for a location such as the Terranea, that the transportation would be a bit more upper class. For the money he’d paid out for it, they should have been sending out a goddamn limo. Seriously, if the end result was as poor as this, he was going to be pissed...


Matthew heard the voice, felt something skitter in his chest, and looked up, stunned.

“Well now, will fate ever stop surprising me?” Calvin smirked. “Just look at what I found.” Calvin slid into the seat beside him as Matthew quickly grabbed things out of the way.

“You know,” Calvin continued, amusement shining in eyes that looked even better in daylight. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to think you’re stalking me.”

“Wait! What?” Matthew sputtered. “Me? Stalking you? You were the one...” He caught the widening of Calvin’s grin. “Oh.” Matthew cleared his throat, feeling almost foolish. Almost. “I suppose that’s your attempt at humour?”

An eyebrow lifted. “And I suppose that’s your attempt at accepting it?” Calvin sat back and stretched while Matthew once again fought to keep his eyes off the wandering hem of Calvin’s shirt. “Just a thought,” Calvin settled back with a yawn. “But have you considered trying laughter?”

“Ha, ha. Ha. Ha, ha.” Matthew said dryly.

Calvin snorted and Matthew was at once disgusted and yet, surprisingly pleased. “Oh, God,” Calvin groaned, slumping into the seat. “I need a drink. And sleep. I’m beat.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Right. You’re beat. Poor you.”

“Hey!” Calvin smirked. “That was a lot of work you know.” Matthew tsk’d, and then his eyes flew wide as Calvin sat up and leaned closer. “But really?” Calvin purred, “You should see what I can do when I take my time.”

Matthew’s heart leapt, stuttered for just a second, before pounding back into life with the rhythm of erratic island drums. He held Calvin’s playful gaze before dropping his eyes to the other man’s quirked lips. Words failed. And everything around them seemed to recede. Because Calvin was joking, he had to be. Matthew didn’t get that lucky. Except, the look on Calvin’s face didn’t seem to be a joke... a lecherous evil bastard, maybe—in the hottest of ways, of course—but not a bullshitter.

And that just made it worse. For Calvin to be sitting there looking all hot and hungry and smooth, as if Calvin knew exactly what Matthew was thinking. And that wasn’t right. People didn’t get in Matthew’s head. He didn’t let them. But goddamn, with Calvin’s breath that close and their legs a fraction of an inch from touching, Matthew could almost admit to himself how bad he fucking wanted it – like, really, reallywanted it. Wanted to get to know this fucked up guy that had been able to talk him into shucking off the facade he’d been hiding behind. Wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Calvin’s mouth and maybe even tug instead of just thread his fingers into Calvin’s hair. See if it would make the man moan...

Calvin shrugged at his silence, pulled back, and Matthew almost shrieked at the loss. “I-I’d like that!” Matthew blurted, loud enough to draw the attention of several other guests on the bus.

“Cool,” Calvin said, eyes closing, knees folding to tuck up against the seat in front of them and ass shifting down in his seat. “Wake me when we get there all right?”

“The resort is only eighteen minutes from the airport,” Matthew deadpanned.

Another snort shot into the air. Calvin threw an arm over his face. “You’ve never driven through LA traffic, have you?”

Matthew sighed, shook out his magazine and cast another glance over at the folded form beside him. Ridiculous. Still... he let his knee fall a little more to the right and smiled when it just barely met Calvin’s thigh.

The End

Copyright © 2011 AF Henley

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