Play It Again, Charlie (30 page)

BOOK: Play It Again, Charlie
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“Seriously?” Will asked, stretching as though he was going to dig through the drawer anyway. Charlie looked away from his pissy, bright-eyed stare and then made himself look back.

“It's been awhile,” he admitted, hot to his ears but his voice staying level, at least. He hated the stunned delay in Will's blinking, the confused line between his eyes, but Will shut his mouth, breathing hard through his nose. Charlie could see questions in his eyes and clenched his jaw. Will's guess during their fight in the parking lot the other day hadn't been far off.

“Well,” Will said at last, drawing Charlie's gaze up from the space between them. “I won't deny that that is
frustrating
news.” Will nearly whimpered at the word and then muttered something else under his breath. Charlie didn't flinch, exactly, but he did turn his head. He held still when Will shifted, glancing over again when Will slid back and then stopped while still on top of Charlie to heave a sigh. “But it
does
give me a chance to do something I've been wanting to do for
weeks
now.” He paused to lift one eyebrow. “Since I assume from that statement that you're a bad boy's dream... safe and spotless.”

Charlie dared another look over and stayed riveted on Will as Will's eyelids dipped, then rose. The look in his eyes forced the breath out of Charlie's chest, the same way it had with Mark in the room. Will nodded as though getting Charlie's answer to that even if Charlie couldn't voice it.

“You look like... .” He couldn't think of the name for a few seconds, knew it was familiar. “Lauren Bacall,” Charlie finished in a whisper, feeling ridiculous until Will's delighted smile flashed at him.

“Flatterer,” he puffed and placed his hands flat on Charlie's stomach, then he moved them to his waist. He slid back a little more, taking the blanket with him. “I didn't know Bacall's famous look was a promise to suck Bogie's brains out through his cock.” With that, he bent his head and sucked on Charlie's shaft through his boxers. The soaked fabric was like tissue paper. Charlie's dick jerked, and he wet his lips at the spark that went straight through him. His balls felt hot, tight.

“Though I guess I should have known,” Will remarked, mumbling against Charlie's cock, and Charlie shoved his hands down into the mattress. Will looked up again, all wicked eyes and soft hair, his mouth busy. Charlie just stared at him, not noticing the hand at his side until Will had already pushed his underwear down. His fingers paused over the scar. Charlie's breath caught.

Will traced its length, then frowned.

“What is that? Like ten inches? Whoa.” Will's fingers curled into the elastic at Charlie's right side too and kept on pulling. Charlie lifted his hips automatically, watching Will's face as he worked the briefs free and then repositioned himself, pushing his body
between
Charlie's legs this time. “I
love
a ten-inch man.” Will exhaled in apparent satisfaction, slapping a hand over Charlie's hip and then giving Charlie a reproachful look when Charlie still hadn't moved.

“I'm not interested in your scar, if that's what this is, Charlie,” he said, rolling his eyes, and then he pressed hard on Charlie's hips as he bent his head again to show Charlie what
did
interest him.

Charlie bucked up at the flick of Will's tongue teasing the head of his cock, then fought to control himself. Not that it mattered, Will just shoved him down and took his cock in his mouth. He wasn't teasing anymore. Will was hard suction and then firm lips, down and up, heat and a rasping tongue. He spoke even if Charlie couldn't answer: approving hums at each pulse down his throat, and wet, smacking slurps when he stopped to lick the taste from his lips, to look up at Charlie with a glint in his eye.

“Will.” Charlie didn't know his own voice but couldn't stop to clear his throat, couldn't do anything but stare at Will and struggle with the need to push up into that mouth, Will's mouth, tight around his cock and sucking like he wanted nothing more than Charlie's come in his mouth, on his tongue. Charlie opened his mouth just to breathe and dug his fingers into his sheet the way Will's hands were flexing on his skin, drawing him closer, then pushing him away. He thrust anyway, a little, but enough, watching Will's eyes open, go to Charlie's face.

He pulled back, leaving the tip of Charlie's cock against his mouth as he inhaled. His lips were wet, just as wet and shiny as Charlie's dick. Charlie wanted to stare, but closed his eyes when Will frowned.

“I could. I didn't mean to... .” The words rushed out, then faded as Will's hands curled around his wrists. Charlie opened his eyes, but couldn't say anything else as Will picked up his hands and placed them carefully on his head. Charlie's fingers spread through Will's hair on their own, fanning delicately out until Will shivered. Will looked directly at him and then put his own hands down on the mattress. He was still frowning.

“Fuck me, Charlie.” He wasn't asking, and he obviously didn't give a crap about how rough his voice was either.

Charlie moved his mouth, no sounds coming out other than a surprised grunt and Will's name. It wasn't that others had never wanted this, he tried to say and couldn't. It was Will's silence after asking for it, as though Charlie could have said no. Not if Will really wanted it. He shouldn't have been surprised and knew it; Will wasn't anybody else.

He slid his fingers over Will's scalp, parting his hair, pulling through the tangle-free strands until they were all standing up again. He was probably messing up Will's hair, but Will only shivered again, and when Charlie urged him back down, he closed his eyes. The instant, pleased sound from him was like the hum when Charlie kissed him.

Charlie leaned back, enjoying the spiking heat of Will's tongue, his mouth sliding back around his dick, and made a small sound of his own. His fingers tightened before he relaxed them. Slow, he reminded himself, as much for what Will wanted as to draw this out as long as he could.

Charlie kept his gaze trained on his cock disappearing into Will's mouth, and then Will's eyelids fluttered.

“You look... .” Charlie couldn't finish, but Will glanced up anyway. Charlie ran a thumb over Will's ear, part of his cheek, and surprised Will, he could tell. It was like a bolt of heat to see how Will's expression shifted, burned hotter. Charlie buried his fingers into the mass of hair and pulled Will down, following those sounds, heavy breathing and low hums in the back of Will's throat. He thrust up to meet him, did it again, then again, letting out gasps when Will didn't just let him, but wanted it, and shifted his body to let Charlie see that, obviously still aroused.

“Amazing,” Charlie grunted. Will's answer was both a purr and a demand for more. “You are so good,” Charlie told him, breathless and stupid, needing him to know how good it really was, Will's throat relaxed around him, his mouth so wet. Will swallowed, moaned, and Charlie twitched up at the pressure, stroking and squeezing all at once. He gripped Will's scalp, wanting Will all the way down so he could feel it again. He thought it was too rough, wanted to stop, slow down again, but Will grunted and shifted over him, thrusting his body into air, turned on. Charlie held tight to the back of his head, held his breath when he brought Will back down and Will gulped around him.

As though Will couldn't feel anything but the rising pleasure too, he pushed forward, impatient but eager, and moaned sweetly when Charlie pulled him back. “Not yet,” Charlie told him, not certain of his words, but Charlie stroked his neck, his cheek, so Will could relax again, wait for his cock. He ached to do it, twisted up at the thought of when Will would finally come and nudged the back of Will's throat with the tip of his cock. Will swallowed, his mouth full of spit and pre-come. Charlie wanted more of it, and wanted to make Will come, too, to see Will under him like this, make him cry out, say anything, to know what Will wanted from him. His hands were wrapped up in Will's hair at the thought, his body arching up, and Will was moving at his urging, wanting it, him.

Will wanted him, had thought about this for weeks while Charlie had been studying him and jacking off to the same thoughts. Charlie's hands grasped Will's, tight, pulling. It was too rough, too fast, but so good, fucking Will's mouth like this, Will more than asking for it, and Charlie shook his head without stopping. “I don't want to... .” He couldn't finish but tried to ease back. He wanted to prolong it, go slower, but his hands held tight to Will, and Will accepted it even when it had to hurt, going still when Charlie pushed up one last time and swallowing each jet of come until it was all gone and Charlie was wincing at too much sensation.

Will pulled his mouth away with a sudden burst of cool air on Charlie's wet dick, and stayed bent over Charlie for a moment longer, his eyes wide open, his jaw slack. Charlie was lying back, just breathing, but Will watched him with something pleased and dark in his eyes. His mouth was red. Charlie wanted to kiss him but couldn't move, not yet. He settled for running his fingers through Will's hair one final time and then clearing his throat.

“Will,” he managed, and Will's mouth curved up as he ducked his head. He moved to the middle of the bed, at Charlie's side, and then put a hand back over Charlie's left hip, the bad hip. He looked down, squinting in the bad light. Charlie didn't flinch, not when Will was curious about everything. That's was all it was. Will didn't seem startled or horrified; he was in fact looking at Charlie with a puzzled, demanding little frown.

“It used to be worse.” Charlie still felt the need to explain, a few words not really telling Will a thing about what it had been. He was having trouble with anything over a whisper, but Will nodded. He took his hand away. The loss was unexpectedly chilling.

“You know,” Will said, licking his plump lips, “once I knew this guy, a surfer. He had a shark bite scar, just inside his thigh, and whoa, it...
hey
!”

Charlie could move after all, with the right motivation. Will's protest at being flipped onto his back was pretty mild by his standards. Not much of a protest at all. Charlie waited a moment anyway, then rolled his eyes at the quiet, flirtatious, “Was that some kind of cop move? Are you putting cop moves on me, Charlie?” and then the immediate way Will spread out beneath him.

“Okay?” he asked a moment later, completely serious, and it took Charlie another moment to realize that Will was asking about his hip.

“Peachy.” He narrowed his eyes, and Will grinned and put his arms up around Charlie's shoulders. This kiss had a new flavor, but Will made the same sounds as before. Sweet. Addictive.

Charlie's body slid over him in an easy, familiar motion, and he slipped a hand down between them, getting a firm grip on the erection poking into him. Will tore his mouth away to gasp. He was loud, but Charlie just closed his eyes, dragging his mouth to Will's ear, scraping the pink shell with his teeth until Will whimpered and said his name.

Charlie did it again, then moved his mouth to Will's throat, under his ear. Will made a noise like a cry. Charlie stroked him again, just once, and then put his hand back to the mattress. Will whined. It was no wonder. Will should be close to the edge, and still Charlie wanted to keep on touching him like that, slow, deliberate, until he knew every one of the sounds Will could make.

It seemed cruel to be so curious, but Will was underneath him and turning his name into a kind of begging.

“Charlie,” Will complained, the name rising at the end when Charlie kissed his collarbone, then put his mouth over a nipple. He remembered Will pinching his own nipple and barely scraped the same skin with his teeth. Will's knees bent, his hands pressing impatiently at Charlie's back. “Charlie,” he sighed again, and Charlie should have blushed at the happy shock and open need in Will's voice. He kept his face down, moved to the other nipple, and then kissed a trail down through the light patch of hair. Will's throat seemed to lock, only air escaping for a moment, and Charlie frowned into his skin, putting a hand to Will's side.

“Don't,” he heard himself say, quiet, but more obvious than Will. He writhed inside, but kept talking. “Don't stop.” He buried his face in Will's navel, licking across his belly button to keep from saying more. Will arched up, and Charlie pushed him back down, still not daring a look up.

“Don't stop what?” Will's hands were at his shoulders, and when Charlie moved, exhaled over Will's straining cock, Will's leg came up too, almost across his back. Charlie shoved that down too and finally looked up into Will's face, which was a mix of confusion and a pout. His mouth was only a few shades lighter than his cock.

“Don't stop talking.” He hadn't meant to make it an order, or to say it at all. Will's mouth opened, and then he threw his head back into the mattress.

“Can do,” he panted to the ceiling, and Charlie bent back down to hide his blush, his fear. He ran his fingers over Will's balls and then down. Will yelped. It was embarrassingly loud, Charlie put his burning face to Will's hip. “Charlie! Always with the surprises.” Will expressed his approval, still loud enough to make Charlie grin. He breathed out in relief, pulling in another breath when just his fingertips made Will choke out something else at high volume.

He hoped it wasn't too loud, that it wasn't escaping through his opened window, but couldn't call back his words now that he'd asked Will to keep talking. He glanced at his drifting curtain, then sent a look over at his nightstand. He considered it, considered Will, then let his hands move over Will's smooth skin, his hips, around under his ass, before working Will legs even farther apart. Not much, just enough to make Will's eyes widen.

“Though I should have known.” Will was almost talking to himself, hissing as Charlie put his face to Will's hipbone and resumed slowly kissing his way down. Will pushed his body up again, his voice going higher as more words streamed out.

“I
am
going to come soon, right? God, I should have known you'd be evil underneath that tall, dark, and handsome good-guy routine. Oh.” He jerked when Charlie's tongue brushed over sensitive skin. Charlie still hadn't touched his cock yet, not with his mouth, and wondered if he should before he reached for the lubricant and let his fingers do what he couldn't.

BOOK: Play It Again, Charlie
9.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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