The Locker Room (9 page)

out to him. It was hard, it took concentration, but Xander could persevere

when he needed to. With a little bit of focus he thought he might not

shoot off into Chris"s mouth embarrassingly soon, and he managed to

wiggle his hand under Chris"s hips and wrap his hand around Chris"s

erection, because turnabout was fair play, and, dammit, he needed some

control in this situation.

Chris groaned around him and thrust into his palm shamelessly,

and that gave Xander the safety he needed. Chris seemed to crave his

touch just like Xander craved Chris"s, and oh, God…, Xander"s hips

started flexing without his permission, and he tried to press his ass hard

into the bed so he didn"t do that, but Chris just kept
sucking,
and
pulling,

his hand becoming slick with the spit Chris let slide and with Xander"s

pre-come which leaked down around the head. Xander tightened his grip

on Chris"s prick, which was so thick that Xander"s long-fingered hand

could wrap around it, but probably nobody else"s. He released quickly,

afraid he"d hurt with his long-fingered touch, but Chris groaned and

thrust his cock into Xan"s grip. Xander forgot about being worried and

started concentrating on what to do to make him move harder, go faster.

Chris wanted him, wanted his touch, wanted to come in his hand.

Oh Holy God!
Chris was cupping his balls now, with his free hand,

and the feeling was… was….

“Christian!” He wasn"t even shouting a warning, he was just

begging, pleading, thanking
Christ!
As he spilled, spilled into Chris"s

gulping mouth, and as soon as the first burst hit Chris"s mouth, the thing

in his hand gave a big throb and spilled hot come all over his fist.

Neither of them could stop coming. They twitched, they shuddered,

they came and came until finally Chris shoved reluctantly at Xander"s

hand at the same time Xander reached down to Chris"s shoulder to make

him stop. Sensitive, tender, and Xander stopped immediately and so did

Chris, and in a moment, Chris"s head was up, resting on Xan"s sweaty

shoulder.

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Amy Lane

Chris grunted then, and opened his window, because the upstairs

was stuffy, even with the A/C, and some more of that warm valley air

rushed in over them, tainted, thank heavens, with the coolness of dawn.

“Come back,” Xander complained, feeling piteous, because they

were both used to sweating, and he didn"t care how hot it was. He

wanted Chris"s touch on his body as he lay there, replete and amazed.

Chris did, laying his head on Xander"s shoulder and rolling into

him, touching lips in an openmouthed, languidly passionate kiss.

Xander fell into it without protest. Chris tasted like Chris—like

sunshine and cookies—but now he also tasted dark and bitter, like

Xander, and the result was powerful and good. Xander tried to

surreptitiously wipe his hand on Chris"s sheet as Chris deepened the kiss,

though, and Chris backed up with a grin.

“You think? Really?” he chided, and then he pulled Xander"s hand

up around his shoulders and started suckling on Xander"s fingers, one at

a time, and at the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, and at the

sticky palm, and Xander groaned because, dammit, he was getting hard

all over again.

“Oh God, Chris!” he complained, and Chris popped his index

finger from a pouty, swollen, come-glazed mouth and looked at him with

pure sin in his well-dark eyes.

“You ready to go again?” he asked breathlessly, and Xander

chuckled, helpless, as always, before that boundless enthusiasm.

“Thinking so!” Xander muttered, and Chris grinned and turned in

his arms, kissing his shoulder, and then his neck, and then his chest. His

mouth closed on one of Xander"s dark pink nipples, and Xander"s cock

woke up and screamed like sex had just been invented and he was pissed

at being left out.

Chris chuckled then, and kept suckling until Xander—still wet and

sticking from just spending in Chris"s mouth—writhed and groaned on

the bed.

“You want to come again?” Chris asked wickedly, and Xander

whimpered. Honest to God whimpered. “You do? C"mon, Xander.

We"ve been waiting to do this for actual years. Let me hear it!”

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47

“I want to come again!” Xander confessed, as Chris drew a wicked

fingertip from his belly button to his erection.

“Good,” Chris said, chuckling. “Because I"ve been studying up,

and I"ve got a whole different way to make you scream.”

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Amy Lane

What a Long Strange Trip

BY THE time Chris"s parents returned that week, Xander and Chris had

washed all his sheets
and
his comforter
and
his pillowcases.

Twice.

And Xander"s too.

By strict “penetrative” standards, both of them were still virgins

then, but by the standard that mattered—that they were both willing to

put their bodies into the other"s hand and expect tenderness, passion, and

pleasure—they had a lifetime"s foundation of experience, and they used

it as often that summer as they possibly could. They started driving to the

foothills in the dark hours after work, to find a corner of the world where

they could make out and not be recognized if they got caught. (Chris

joked that summer that he was spending half his check on car fresheners,

a crack that never failed to make Xander blush until Chris had to kiss

him senseless.)

Finally, in August, they packed up the Toyota with bedding and

clothes, and Xander"s graduation gift from Andi and Jed, a complete set

of luggage.

“We know you"ll be leaving, sweetie,” Andi had said then, tearing

up because that"s what she did, “but you need to know that you"ll always

have a home with us. You never have to live out of a garbage bag again,

okay?”

Xander had nodded, speechless, and hugged her, and he hugged her

the same way as they were leaving. He had seen his mother, on occasion,

as she wandered through the neighborhood, high, or drunk, often with a

different man shouting at her to hurry. He could barely remember a time

when he had felt anything for her but fear and disgust. One night, not

long after he"d come to live with Chris"s family, Andi had heard him

crying, and when she"d sat by the head of the couch and stroked back his

hair, she asked him why.

I"m a terrible person. I don"t deserve to be here.

You"re a sweet boy. Tell me what you think you"ve done wrong.

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49

Shouldn"t I at least miss her? She was a good mom, once. She used

to feed me and stuff.

Andi"s hands had stilled on his hair.
She deserted you, Xander. The

part that you should miss, she died, and you"ve mourned her and lived

without her. The part that"s left, that part doesn"t know you, and you

have the right to walk away.

The luggage had the Edwards"s family address printed on it. The

message was clear. He and Chris might have been
going
away, but he

wasn"t
walking
away. He had a home. He had a family. And Andi was

right. He wasn"t going to live out of a garbage bag ever again.

Both of them had been hugged fiercely by Andi, and Jed, and even

by Penny. Penny, who had grown to five ten in her sophomore year in

high school, stood on her tiptoes and kissed Xander, on the cheek this

time. “I love you like a brother,” she whispered, and Xander wondered

why she"d had to say that. What other way would she love him?

They drove over four hundred and fifty miles down the California

coast that day, and they had just made it to the beach at Carlsbad and

checked into a hotel there, when Christian had produced lubricant and a

porn video on his laptop that gave step-by-step instructions.

Xander topped first.

Christian squatted patiently on his hands and knees, holding the

thick sheets of the hotel bed in his fists, while Xander kissed down the

smooth bumps of his spine, the vulnerable curve of his shoulders, the

slight indentation of his long waist. Chris started trembling when Xander

got to the muscular plane of his backside, and Xander gave a playful

nibble at where Chris"s ass met his inner thigh and disappeared into the

secret hollow where all good things were possible.

Chris made a hissing sound and groaned into the pillow. “You, uh,

gonna touch my asshole anytime, Xan? Kinda dying here.”

Xander laughed helplessly—Chris could do that to him. He reached

under Chris"s body and gripped him, stroking slow and strong, which

was how Chris liked it. Chris moaned and grunted and thrust his hips in

rhythm, and Xander fumbled with the lube tube with his other hand. He

managed to spill some down the crack of Chris"s ass, down Chris"s balls,

and on his fingers all at one go. Chris made a little whimper, and a

giggle, and then Xander snicked the lid closed before he dumped any

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Amy Lane

more of the stuff, and played carefully with the puckered little entrance

that all that lube was designed for.

Chris"s whole body shuddered, and he went limp, practically

boneless, the only part of that sturdy, powerful body that was active was

his thigh muscles, bearing his ass up for Xander"s leisure. Xander took

his time.

First he simply rubbed it, again and again, until Chris purred and

thrust back against the blunt tip of Xander"s finger as it rubbed over.

Xander watched in fascination as his finger disappeared, and Chris made

that crooning noise in the back of his throat.

“Mmmmmmm… mmmmmm….”

Xander was forced to chuckle. “Good?”

“Mmmm… better… more.”

Xander stretched, carefully, more, and then Chris started giving

instructions.

“Another finger, yeah? Mmmm… yeah. Good. Okay… deeper…

deeper.
God!”

“Does it hur—”

“You felt that?”

“Yeah… does it hurt?”

“
NO… push on it AGAIN!”

Xander did, and Chris begged, so he added another finger and

spread them, and Chris whimpered. “God, Xan… I"m such a cock-

whore, I know it, but could you… do you think you might want to…

please, Xander, please?”
He practically sobbed into the pillow, and

Xander?

Well, Xander"s entire body had been flushing hot and cold for the

past fifteen minutes. His balls were throbbing between his legs, and his

cock? It was painfully full, even more so because he"d been dripping a

steady stream of pre-come almost from Chris"s first pleasure sound. If all

Chris had wanted was for Xander to finger-bang him and stroke his cock,

at this point, Xander probably would have come all by himself, without a

touch anywhere.

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51

But Chris wanted Xander to
fuck him,
and that? Oh God. It was

awe-inspiring. He positioned himself carefully, and at the first touch of

his head to Chris"s stretched, slick opening, Chris whined. “Jesus,

Xander, what have I ever done to you?”

“You loved me,” Xander replied gruffly, and then he thrust quietly

in.

Chris stretched easily, stretched, stretched,
“Gaaaaahhhh… that"s

wonderful!”
stretched until,
pop!
Xander was inside. Chris buried his

face in his sheets and pounded the pillow with his fist, chanting hoarsely,

“More, more, more, more, deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper…
oh, God,

Xander, would you fucking move?”

Xander snapped his hips back and forward, because he had to,

because Chris was begging him, because his cock ached, and he

hungered to bury himself in his lover"s body, and he had no choice.

“
Yes!”
Chris howled. “Yes! Again! Harder!”

And Xander complied, harder, and harder, and again, and his eyes

rolled back and his hips just started to piston, and Chris begged him,

loudly, hoarsely, without shame. Xander was aware that Chris had

moved his hand up and was stroking himself off, even as he begged

Xander to thrust some more.

The thought made the tingle start, up under Xander"s balls, and he

managed a “You coming anytime soon?”

“Been coming… need the big kahuna, or I"m gonna fucking lose

it!”

“All I can do is harder—”

“Make sure you hit that spot!”

Xander did. He angled his hips and made sure he nailed that spot,

and nailed it hard, and again, and again, until Chris screamed, honest to

God screamed, his voice hoarse and muffled by his pillow, and Xander"s