Mike’s arms tightened and he cursed under his breath. Crandall pushed back against him, tugging at one wrist to loosen the smothering embrace.
“I’m fine, by the way,” he said.
“Obviously.” Mike’s single word reply glided over Crandall’s neck as an exhale.
“Sure, now’s the time you start listening to me about that.” Mike chuckled lightly, but Crandall could feel the tension washing over the two of them. “Wasn’t even close,” Crandall said.
“But nothing.” Crandall closed his eyes and turned his face to the pillow. He squirmed down into the sheets until his ass pressed against Mike’s crotch. He amazed himself the way he craved Mike’s body so close in every possible way, but could flip out into a full-fledge panic attack should it come unrequested or unexpected or from anyone and everyone else in his life.
“Bullshit,” Mike said, again in that warm exhale that tickled Crandall’s neck.
With a sigh, and a fierce need to change the subject to anything but vampires, Crandall rolled over and pressed his tongue past Mike’s lips. Mike melted within two seconds, his tight muscles relaxing as his mouth opened with a faint growling moan. Crandall hooked one leg over Mike’s thighs and pulled them close. Hands roving, caressing and pinching, Crandall ignored the need to breath as long as possible, sucking in air in quick staccato breaths as he skipped from lips, to chin, to throat, to shoulder.
“God. Damn.” Mike’s fingers curled into Crandall’s arm, his words emphasized by the bruising of muscle.
Crandall lifted his head from Mike’s neck to conquer his mouth once more. He curled his leg tighter around Mike’s, grinding their bodies together, and confirming hard need through thin cotton fabric.
Mike pushed him away, but only a couple of inches, his glassy eyes unfocused as his libido hit overdrive. “If you don’t–”
“–Shut up and fuck me.”
Even without the piercing stare that could unsettle anyone, including Mike, Crandall could use those two words to get what he wanted. Fuck me. The stare reinforced his insistence. Sex would be a distraction, yes, but it would be a helluva distraction.
The question in Mike’s eyes lost the battle to lust and he rolled Crandall underneath him. “How does it feel to always get your way?” Mike asked.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
Mike dropped his weight as he lowered his head for another kiss. Crandall tensed, fighting the smothering panic that crowded in at the edges of his mind. Mike quickly moved down the bed, pushing Crandall’s shirt up so he could roll one hard nipple under his tongue. The moment of panic passed, tense muscles giving way to rolling undulations as Crandall arched and squirmed under the combined efforts of Mike’s hands and mouth. Thoughts vanished and pleasure filled his veins, setting nerves on high alert, tingling and wanting, craving an eternity of more.
Pushing at Crandall’s wife-beater, Mike wordlessly demanding his shirt disappear. Crandall complied, sitting up just enough to pull it over his head. Mike pressed him back down to the mattress, covering his body and seeking another long, languid kiss. When he lifted his head, his hands continued to please. “So when will I convince you to sleep without a shirt?”
“What… difference?” he gasped. His eyes rolled and he threw his head back as Mike tweaked the nipple he’d been tonguing. Crandall’s fingers explored Mike’s bare shoulders. He liked that Mike never bothered with a shirt and, some nights, crawled into bed in his boxers, too lazy to change into the flannel pajama bottoms they both wore for sleep.
Mike slid along Crandall’s body with a soft, happy hum. “The feel of your skin on mine,” he said.
“That’s so hard to do.”
“Saves a step.” His hand swept down Crandall’s torso and then glided left and right, teasing the sensitive skin along the edge of his waistband. He lowered his head, sealing lips, while he curled his fingers under Crandall’s waistband and tugged.
Crandall squirmed, lifting his hips to help shed his clothes, while dragging Mike down to feel the same skin-on-skin sensation Mike demanded moments before. He enjoyed it for only a few seconds before Mike sat up, pulling Crandall’s pants with him. When Mike flipped off of the bed to shed his own sleepwear, Crandall smothered a whimper. He tugged at his dick, watching fluid muscles stretch and flex as Mike fumbled in the drawer they kept stocked with condoms and lube.
“Some time tonight,” Crandall said.
“Fuck you.” Mike tossed his choices on the bed beside Crandall.
He spread his knees and ran a thumb over the dripping slit of his cock. “That’s the point,” he said.
Up Next: Always the Answer