Grey
turned the lamp off and moved closer. Traffic lights turned the room into a
kaleidoscope as he breathed in Paul’s scent.
“If
I ask will you kiss me?”
“I
didn’t want to assume, but yeah, I would like that very much,” Paul whispered,
and for a moment he seemed as young as he pretended to be; almost vulnerable.
“Good,
because I like kissing you.” Grey met him half way. Lips touching, softly at
first, then melding together as if this was the first time. Paul moved into his
arms, lips never parting. He sighed, head resting on Grey’s shoulder, his body
going limp, relaxed. Soft whispers that could be anything but sounded strangely
like sweet nothings. And then soft breathing.
Grey
opened his eyes to find Paul’s closed, his hair a shade of blue from the
window, a smile on his lips. Grey smoothed the wet strands of hair from his
face and with a laugh he placed a kiss on his forehead.
Strange,
the sleep that eluded him all night seemed to want to snatch him away now. Grey
didn’t fight long. He curled around Paul, holding him cradled against his chest
and joined him in dreams.
Chapter
Twelve
Strange
dreams haunted his night. He awakened sweaty and tangled in sheets that didn’t
smell familiar. A slick body pressed against him and for a moment he imagined
he smelled blood. Sweat. It was just sweat. The body breathed, it had a
heartbeat, and made sweet sounds as Paul pressed against it. The name belonging
to the body sang through his mind.
“Grey,”
he sighed contentedly as soft lips touched his. He stretched daring to open one
eye. Morning wood leaking against a thigh.
“Morning,”
Grey slurred, his eyes stayed closed, a smile stretched his lips. “Probably
more like afternoon.”
“Slug
a bed.” Paul sank his face into the gap between Grey’s neck and shoulder,
drawing in a deep breath. “I love the way you smell.”
“I’m
sweaty, I think the air stopped working.”
“Don’t
care, turns me on.”
“I
can tell.” Grey rolled him onto his back and settled between his legs. Eyes
wide open now, the brown and gold flecks small in the green field. He rocked
his hips in a slow, torturous, motion that had Paul gasping. Paul ran his hands
down the smooth plane of Grey’s back, settling his hands on the round globes of
his ass. He squeezed, spreading his legs wider in invitation.
“Yeah?
How can you tell?”
The
mouth that captured his didn’t say another word, yet Paul heard everything. He
glided his hands back up to Grey’s shoulders and pressed him closer. Bodies
pressed together. Tongues mating, sweat and other bodily fluids mingling, Paul
moved with him. Rubbing, sighing, gasping at the sting of teeth on his tongue,
his bottom lip.
“You’re
breathing.”
“Not
for much longer. I think I’m dying.”
“Don’t
do that.”
“Why?
Will you miss me?”
Grey
stopped moving and pushed himself up on his elbows to look down into Paul’s
eyes. His face suddenly serious.
“Yes.
I’ll miss you. Please, I don’t want to think about something happening to you.
When you…” He ran his thumb over the stitches on Paul’s arm. “I don’t think I
can…I won’t even know if something happened to you would I?”
Paul’s
carefully built world shook and crumbled, the fear in Grey’s eyes was something
he’d never seen before.
“Why
would it matter? I—"
“Because
it matters. I don’t know how you managed to crawl into my heart but you did.
I’ve never loved anyone before. I don’t know if this
is
love. But I know
I’m scared to death of losing whatever this is. I’m scared of having this. I'm
just…damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
The
mood gone sour, Grey pushed himself onto his knees and started to crawl out of
bed.
Terror,
or something like it, shot through Paul and he scrambled after him. In
desperation he flipped Grey onto his back on the bed and pinned him.
“You
don’t think I’m scared too? I am. I’ve never had a death wish, but my job is
dangerous. I can’t help this. Since I met you all I can think of is not getting
shot. Not getting stabbed. Running faster…As fast as I can, but instead of into
the thick of the danger, I’m running to you. I dream about running to you. In
my dreams I’m safe and…Did you say you love me?” His mind caught up with his
mouth about that time. Stunned silence greeted him, and a blush. “Oh, my God.
You did say it.”
“Maybe.
I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. All I could think of was you
dying and strange things tumbled from my mouth. Stop looking at me like that…”
“Like
what?” Paul fell flat on Grey’s chest. He propped his chin on Grey’s, and
smoothed his hair back.
“Like
I’ve lost my mind,” Grey sighed, his hands settled on the small of Paul’s back,
sweat dripped from his forehead to trickle into the dark strands.
“I
like that you’ve lost your mind” Paul’s chest ached as if he’d run a million
miles, all because of the way Grey looked at him. Soft, sort of dreamy, with a
small tilt of a smile on his face. Hardly the badass with the sordid past he
pretended to be.
“Speaking
of lost minds.” He remembered something that he needed to investigate and,
before Grey could form any kind of protest, Paul wriggled down his body and
with a wicked smile of warning he pushed his way between Grey’s legs. Hands
tucked behind his knees, Paul admired the hardware the sparkled at the base of
his tight sac.
“I
always wondered if any of my professors had any kinks. Now I know.” Paul hooked
his pinky in the ring and tugged lightly. Grey threw his head back, a throaty
moan escaped his parted lips.
“Oh,
yeah. Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
“You’re
a sadistic bastard aren’t you?” Grey said weakly, but he didn’t close his legs
or shrink away from Paul’s touch.
“Hey,
you are the one with the genital piercing, and turnabout is fair play.” Paul
flicked the steel in his nipple as a reminder of the torture from the day
before. “What does this feel like?” He pulled gently at the ring watching
Grey’s flesh draw up even tighter. His cock swelled and elongated as Paul
watched, pre-cum dripping from the head.
“Intense.
Everything is so…Mmmmm, oh God, intense.” He writhed under the weight of Paul’s
hungry gaze. As if his body wasn’t his anymore. Almost as if he was allowing
Paul to pull the strings that made him dance. “Please?”
Hazel
eyes turned dark, he licked his lips, baring teeth as he hissed. Fascinated
Paul kept pressure on the ring, pulling until Grey’s moans became animal.
“Please
what?”
“Drawer,”
he answered nodding toward the table shoved into the corner of the tiny room.
Paul moved across the bed, stretching as far as he could so as not to lose his
prize. He found Grey’s stash and snagged the lube and condom strip. Grey made a
mewling sound and drew his legs back farther, exposing his hole.
“Can’t
get enough of you now. I want to watch your face.”
“While
I fuck you?” Paul didn’t wait for an engraved invitation; he rolled the condom
on and slicked his fingers. He toyed with the piercing with one hand and eased
inside his lover with the other. Grey responded to his slightest touch, his
skin flushed and glistening with sweat, his eyes heavy. Lust, hot and heavy.
Lust, that’s all this was. Except for the strange pitter patting in his chest.
He tried to tell himself it was just a fuck, but he couldn’t convince himself.
Not anymore.
“Please,
Paul…Please. I’ve never felt like this. I love what you do to me.” Grey rocked
his body on Paul’s fingers, sexy sounds escaped his mouth. Sounds Paul wanted
to taste.
He
withdrew his fingers and with a quick catch of his breath he pushed inside,
slowly, savoring the glide of heated skin and tight muscles. When he was sheathed
he fell forward onto his hands, his face just above Grey’s.
“I
love how you make me feel. How you look at me. I’ve never had that either. This
is new for me too,” he felt compelled to say, the beating of his heart making
him dizzy as he waited for the words that would send him over some precipice
that he didn’t know he’d staggered to the edge of.
“I
love you. I want to make you happy.” Grey cradled his face in his hands and
pulled him close for a kiss. Legs and arms wrapped around him and he lost
himself in the heat of love and lust. Grey moved with him, meeting his thrusts.
Their mouths fused, sounds swallowed. The sheets became a sweaty mess. The air
conditioning kicked on, but Paul didn’t feel the cool air—heat consumed him.
Grey clawed his back. His leg muscles holding him in position, he moved with
Paul as if they were one creature. One body locked in an age old dance. Paul
reached between them, his fingers stroking Grey’s cock, pulling the slick
evidence of his arousal along the hard pulsing shaft. Grey went still, his body
arched, head thrown back. He cried Paul’s name. Heat erupted in Paul’s hand,
hot ribbon after hot ribbon.
“Oh,
fuck, Grey. Fuck.” Orgasm ripped through his body, catching him completely off
guard. “I love you so fucking much,” he said just before he collapsed onto his
lover. Strong arms engulfed him, holding him close, while his heart tried to
beat out of his chest. When he could breathe again he realized that he’d said
words that he’d never said to anyone before.
“I
do love you. And I’m scared to death.”
“Me
too, baby. Me too.” Grey pressed soft kisses along his forehead and then down
his neck to his shoulder. “Me too.”
* * * * *
Grey
lay awake, holding Paul in his arms. In the afternoon light that poured in
through the colored windows and made the air conditioning ineffective,
exhaustion rimmed his pale-lashed eyes. Grey stroked his thumb over his lips,
and he didn’t so much as flinch. The scent of sex lingered in the air. Cum
dried on his belly, and Paul’s. He fought off a wave of intense longing and
slid out from under his lover.
He’d
laid still for an hour just watching Paul sleep. They’d talked for a while
after the world stopped spinning. Paul was off for the next three days. The
bust the night before had earned him and Vinnie the time. He’d tried to stay
awake, but as the sun eased more into the window and the room grew warmer, he’d
lost the battle and drifted off mid-sentence.
Grey
could happily lie in bed and watch him sleep for hours, but his stomach was
starting to complain. He padded out to turn the thermostat down so that the air
would stay on, and decided a shower was the logical first step to starting his
day.
Two
hours later he sat on the balcony in the fading light of afternoon, paint brush
suspended over canvas. The cathedral on the skyline pealed the hour, four
bells. He added a touch to one of the golden domes, hoping for the right hue to
reflect the setting sun.
“Looks
nice,” Paul said with a yawn, startling Grey into dropping his brush. “We can
add artist to your list of extraordinary talents.”
“I
dabble.” Grey bent to retrieve his brush and to hide his blush. His art wasn’t
something he shared often.
“You
dabble in window graffiti too. I see the resemblance in the city landscape.”
Paul scratched his shoulder where the stitches were exposed. “Did I dream that
church chimed four?”
“I
believe you used the term slug a bed earlier.” Grey cleaned his brushes.
“Yeah,
but I slept all day. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to just crash on you like that.”
“You
needed it, and I found something to keep me occupied. Besides I took advantage
and slept out, which is something I haven’t done in a long time.” He dried his
brushes and put them in the coffee can he used to store them and started
gathering up his paints.
“I
didn’t mean to interrupt. You don’t have to stop working on my account,” Paul
said hands in the pockets of Grey’s robe. “If I knew where my clothes ended up
I’d get out of your hair.”
“I
put them in the washer, figured you didn’t want to put on filthy clothes. I’m
not going to ask what you rolled in last night. And you aren’t interrupting.
It’s a work in progress that needs to dry before I do anymore. Are you hungry?
I have a lasagna in the oven, one of those frozen things, but still, it’s
food.” Grey didn’t want to admit that he was looking for reasons to get him to
stay. “Unless you have plans for the night that is.”
“If
that’s your way of asking if I’m about to leave, then no, I have no plans. What
about you? Gotta hot date tonight?” Paul took the mug Grey offered him and
poured himself a cup of coffee, black, no sugar, and leaned over the counter
while Grey checked the food in the oven.
He
took a moment to let the silly grin subside before he pulled out the
over-browned pan of molten goodness.
“I
sort of do have plans. Yeah, a hot date.”
Paul
glanced away quickly. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably as he gulped coffee.
His hands seemed to shake a little.
“Okay,
then I’ll get out of your way.”