The zoo was almost a second home by now. He felt like he’d been there more than anywhere else lately, but every time he walked through the gates, the same excitement flared up.

Falcon had a job to do today, but in his imagination, he was following Blane around at work. For research purposes, of course—to see the animals up close.

“Morning,” he greeted the girl behind the counter at the closest snack station to the meerkat exhibit—Lacy.

After several visits, embarrassingly, Lacy was starting to recognize him. She’d commented on his collapsible easel and struck up a conversation about art last time.

“Back again?”

“I am. So are you, I see,” he joked, scanning the menu. Of course he wanted coffee. It was going to be a long day of work. “Just a coffee, please.”

“Giving up on painting, then?” Lacy retorted as she poured a cup from the pot, gesturing at the camera dangling from his wrist.

“Oh! No.” He laughed. “I did a lot of quick sketches last week. Now I’m getting photo references.”

“Right. It’s gotta be hard to find anatomy references of specific things online sometimes.”

“Yeah. There’s books out there, but they cost like a thousand dollars,” he snorted, rolling his eyes.

Lacy nodded. “I remember that much.” She’d said last time that she’d used to sketch, but gave up over time. It always made Falcon sad to hear about that—so many people thought they were no good and stopped just when they could be making a breakthrough in technical details or style.

“Seriously, if art supplies didn’t cost so much, artists wouldn’t be so broke.” Falcon rolled his eyes and handed over change, but his eye was drawn by movement. Two men walked past, in distinctive uniforms. Blane and Gregory.

Falcon resisted the urge to call out to them—Blane would see him soon, he was sure. The zoo wasn’t that big.

“Photo references of what?”

Falcon turned red, realizing he was staring after the men. He had accidentally gotten Blane in a few shots last week. Accidentally. On accident. “Uh, different… animals.”

“Sure,” Lacy winked, sliding the cup over the counter and taking the change he handed her. “I heard them…” She trailed off, biting her tongue but smiling mischievously.

“Heard what?” Falcon couldn’t resist asking.

“Oh, just them talking. Gregory was teasing Blane about you over lunch last week.”

“So I know where to go for all the hot zoo gossip,” Falcon laughed, his cheeks hotter than the cup in his hand.

“Honestly, they forget how their voices carry.” Lacy winked. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

Falcon raised his other hand and waved, still laughing under his breath as he followed—didn’t follow, happened to walk in the same direction as—the vets.

They had already disappeared into the staff area of the meerkat exhibit, so Falcon casually chose a spot by the Plexiglass where he was out of the way of the kids’ viewing spot but still had a good line of sight to most of the exhibit.

He liked this zoo for more than Blane’s presence. Although parts of it looked shabby—faded signs or paint that needed to be touched up—the animals were clearly kept with care. Now he knew why: people like Blane were there.

Falcon set his bag by his feet, then crouched by the glass to take some shots of the meerkats.

One was scurrying around near the glass, watching the visitors as much as it was being watched. Another couple seemed to be herding a group of smaller meerkats—pups, he assumed. What were babies called? Kittens? That seemed to suit their name better. He’d have to ask Blane.

The door opened and Blane entered. Falcon blushed again, but he took photos as Blane set down full food dishes, then retreated as curious meerkats popped up to scurry toward them from all over the sandy, rocky terrain.

It was cute to watch them eat, and very informative. Falcon snapped photos of the way they dexterously handled the food.

He was partway through a few initial sketches of zoo animals, but he was starting to feel like meerkats were a good direction to go for a series of their own. A lot of people found them cute, judging by the visitor flow in this area of the park. And Rosalina and Jenny could have the original first-in-series.

Falcon thought over the idea of doing a cartoon series for his other artist identity, too. It made sense to do multiple pieces on one subject while he had the references fresh in his mind. And he could already see the possibilities for messages about family, support, or sharing with groups of meerkats behind the text.

He was so distracted thumb-pecking ideas into his phone that he didn’t see Gregory come up beside him until Blane’s coworker spoke.

“We’ll have to call you the meerkat man.”

“Jesus.” Falcon jumped, then breathily laughed. “I like them. They’re cute.”

“And the guy with them isn’t bad, either,” Gregory added with a smirk. When Falcon cast him a questioning glance, he said, “Oh, I’m straight… and I wouldn’t date a coworker anyway. But Blane can’t stay away from wherever you’re working when you’re here.”

Falcon mumbled something and shrugged, not wanting to out him. He was pretty sure Blane had said he was out, but…

“It’s cool. He said you two have a hot date tonight.”

“He did?” Falcon grinned, his anxiety lessening. How hot does he mean? I hope he means what I think.

“I’m sure he mentioned it, yeah. And that he might need to be picked up tomorrow morning, again. Once or five times.”

Blane was walking toward them now, empty dishes in his hands and a suspicious look on his face as he eyed Gregory. “Are you corrupting his innocent ears?”

Falcon laughed before he could stop himself, then cleared his throat. “Ah. My innocent ears. Yes.”

Gregory cracked up. “I think it’s the other way around. Okay, I gotta go deal with the big cats. You coming?”

“In a minute,” Blane promised, handing over the dishes.

Falcon caught the teasing eye-roll Gregory gave Blane before he raised a hand in a wave and left.

Blane dusted his hands off, then slid them into the pockets of his coat. “You’re here early. Staying the day?”

“I hope to. If I have someone to stay for.”

“I can think of someone who hopes you are,” Blane retorted playfully. He didn’t get too close, but Falcon could respect that. He was at work, after all.

“Gregory said you were hoping to catch a ride tomorrow morning,” Falcon teased.

Blane’s grin was unrepentant. “If you insist on bugging me like this… distracting me at work…”

“Someone should. You’re less grumpy after I’ve had my way with you.” Falcon winked. “Better go help your buddy. I’ll be around.”

“Oh, I’ll find you.” It was said in an undertone, but with a playful little growl that made Falcon shiver with pleasure.

“I can’t wait.”

Once Blane walked off, Falcon stole a moment to look after him, then tried to focus his thoughts again. References. Right. I was here for a reason.

It was gonna be a long damn day.

* * *

“Now I see why you pack your own lunch,” Falcon told Blane as he glanced at the red light, then his passenger.

“The burgers really aren’t bad. Your mistake for not following my menu recommendations,” Blane told him, his arms folded.

Falcon resisted the urge to laugh. “Zoo food sucks.”

“Not all of it.”

“Mmm.” Getting him defensive was kind of fun. “The coffee isn’t the best, either.”

“It gets the job done.”

“You know what else gets the job done?” Falcon made it very clear what he meant, slowing down the syllables and flashing a quick sideways glance.

The day had been hell, holding back from talking to Blane every time he saw him. He’d disappeared for a while to do more veterinary duties before reappearing to help with zookeeper tasks and a guided talk toward the end of the day.

Falcon resisted the urge to check that he still had his camera and all its precious images of the exhibits—sometimes with Blane around or in them.

“I have a few ideas,” Blane murmured. He was looking at Falcon and not glancing away, and it took all Falcon’s concentration to keep his eyes on the road. “A lot, in fact.”

“Whatever we don’t get around to, we can save for another night,” Falcon promised with another quick wink.

“I like the way you think.”

We’re still keeping going, then. Good. Falcon was relieved their last encounter hadn’t seemed to slow them down at all. In fact, Blane seemed more eager to spend time around him.

He wasn’t really sure how to handle it. He’d long since healed from the feeling of being unwanted by Spencer except for sex, and he’d come to terms with the idea that he was worth being around, but he’d never really put it into practice.

It was all so… easy. It was hard not to be on guard because of that.

“Ah, here we go, right?” Falcon pulled up into Blane’s driveway.

“You learn fast. You’ll be coming over all the time now.”

“Is that an offer?”

Blane glanced at him, and his voice was a bit more serious than Falcon expected when he said, “It might be.”

Then he got out of the car, leading Falcon inside while Falcon’s brain churned over that one.

* * *

Blane cooked.

How rare was a man who had a good job, friends and a life of his own, and cooked? Falcon tried his best to stop matching Blane up to the mental boyfriend list, but it was always hard when they were alone together.

“Supper was great,” he said again as he loaded his dishes into the dishwasher. “Thanks.”

It was simple—chicken and rice—but it did the job.

And it gave them a little while to hang out in the kitchen, talking about Blane’s day at work and Falcon’s current works in progress, and their families, and their favorite meals…

But the tension was impossible to ignore. Every time they brushed hands while cleaning up after supper, every lingering look across the table as they ate, it all built up under Falcon’s skin.

He almost squirmed with impatience as Blane settled on the couch and gestured for him to join him.

“I’m glad you came over,” Blane said, his voice soft.

Falcon sank into the comfy couch next to him and leaned in while Blane wrapped his arm around his shoulders. It was odd but cozy, and he… he liked it.

A simple touch on his bicep, the weight of an arm across his shoulders and neck, had him on edge, too. The comfort and arousal conflicted, making his brain not sure which direction it wanted to go more.

Oh. That’s new. I want to cuddle first. Falcon drew a breath and let it go, resting his head on Blane’s shoulder. “I’m glad, too. This is nice.”

“Mmm.” Blane leaned in to kiss his cheek, his breath warm, and Falcon’s dick made up his mind.

A quiet noise escaped as Blane squeezed him into him.

“You’re on edge,” Blane observed, his voice low and teasing.

Falcon rolled his head back. “And you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I have some idea, yes.” Blane’s finger played with the sleeve of Falcon’s t-shirt, trailing along bare skin. “You could hardly sit still during supper.”

“I… I’m really into you.”

“You want to be even more into me? Or vice versa, Mr. Vers?” Blane grinned.

Oh my god, he means… “Really?”

“Is it too soon?” Blane sounded concerned, his finger stopping.

“Fuck, no,” Falcon laughed. “I like blowjobs, but with the right guy…”

“And that’s me?” Blane leaned in, his lips warm as he mouthed the edge of Falcon’s jaw. “I’m glad. Anal isn’t a requirement for me, per se, but it can feel great.”

“Yeah, it can.” Falcon moaned and tipped his head so Blane could kiss his ear and neck. His nails dug into Blane’s thigh with the self-control it took not to grab him and ride him until dawn.

“You’re gorgeous,” Blane whispered. “You know that, right?”

Falcon nodded. “Most guys don’t like that I do.”

Blane laughed abruptly. “No? They wanna be the only one that tells you that? Fuck it. I hope everyone tells you you are.”

Holy shit. Falcon was blushing so hard he wanted to curl up and wait for Blane to stop looking at him. He turned his face away, but Blane cupped his cheek gently, pulling his face back toward him to kiss him on the lips.

The kiss was deep and firm, strong. The kind of kiss Falcon could—and did—melt into. He closed his eyes and sighed unconsciously, his lips parting so Blane could slide his tongue between them, then suck his lower lip between his.

It was nice to give in and let Blane have him. In theory, anyway. Blane was going slowly, one hand still resting halfway up his thigh, maddeningly far away from his most sensitive skin.

“Nnnh,” he groaned sharply in frustration, making Blane chuckle.

Blane murmured into his ear, “Impatient, are we?” He lipped the earlobe.

“Not all of us have that stoic Spartan shit going on,” Falcon grumbled, trembling with pleasure at the nerves that lit up in his body.

“Now who’s grumpy?”

Falcon snorted. “Shut up and… do something.”

“Oh, I’m doing things.” Blane licked the rim of his ear slowly, running his tongue all the way around the edge to the lobe, until Falcon’s skin was on fire, his nails pressing hard into Blane’s thigh and the couch. “And there’s so much left to do.”

Blane moved swiftly when he finally did, pushing Falcon flat onto his back along the couch and straddling him. He pulled his t-shirt slowly up, dipping his head down to kiss the bare stomach he revealed.

“Fuck,” Falcon hissed. The sudden warm, wet heat so close to his aching cock made his hips jerk up, but he was trapped by the weight of Blane.

Blane kissed again and again as he pulled the t-shirt up, way too slowly for Falcon’s liking, covering every inch of skin between his navel and collarbone.

He took particular care, when it was bunched around Falcon’s neck, to kiss each nipple.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Falcon mumbled, arching deliberately this time to grind against Blane. He needed some stimulation—something—or he was gonna go crazy.

“Hold still,” Blane ordered. “If you’re patient, I’ll get around to it.”

Falcon trembled on the edge of obedience and disobedience, wondering which option would be more fun—which would bring them both more pleasure.

In the end, he reluctantly flattened himself on the couch again, letting his cock throb without relief in his jeans. “Better be worth it,” he mumbled.

“I promise,” Blane whispered. He pulled the shirt over Falcon’s head, then up his forearms to his wrists, and left it there.

“Oooh.” Falcon grinned, another flash of heat running through his body as Blane twisted the fabric a couple times and looped it over his fists. It wasn’t so tight he couldn’t easily get free, but the idea was thrilling.

“Patience,” Blane murmured again, pressing his lips in a long, slow kiss that gentled the sharp-edged need running through Falcon’s veins.

I’ve never felt like this before from… just foreplay. That said, Falcon couldn’t remember anyone taking this kind of time in foreplay, or being this good at it. First dates weren’t conducive to it—more awkward fumbling, or straight to fucking.

But Blane seemed determined to unwrap him slowly, like a gift, and unravel his self-control along the way.

Blane’s lips were on his collarbone now, then his nipple. Warm, wet, good. Falcon panted for breath as Blane sucked and pinched the nubs and the skin around with his lips.

“Blane,” he moaned quietly. “You’re fucking good.”

He wanted to touch, but he kept his hands above his head, stretching himself out in an invitation for Blane to have him whenever he wanted.

Finally, Blane’s lips were working back down the center of his body all the way to his waistband, his hands fumbling at the button.

“It’s hard to do this when you’re squirming,” Blane laughed.

Falcon blushed. “Can’t help it. My balls are fucking blue by now.”

“Bet they aren’t,” Blane murmured. “Or if they are, I can warm them up again…”

Falcon tried to stifle his gasp at the thought of his sensitive skin in Blane’s gentle mouth, but it didn’t work.

Blane chuckled deeply and pulled his jeans and underwear down. Just like before, he left them around his ankles.

“You are kinky.” Falcon smirked up at him, his cock finally—mercifully—free, but in need of stimulation, stat.

Blane winked. “If you want me to be.”

“I do if you want me to be.”

“We’ll talk, then,” Blane grinned. “But I have better plans.”

“Like wha—uhhhht,” Falcon tried to finish the word without losing his dignity and lost the battle. The hot, wet mouth around the tip of his cock all of a sudden was almost too much, and he gritted his teeth as his whole body throbbed with the tingly charge of need.

Blane sucked him in to the base of his cock, then pulled his mouth up again, bobbing his head slowly but keeping the suction tight.

His thighs almost shook with the force building up in his body. They were tight, and so was his stomach. He could hardly move if he wanted to now, except for the desire to fuck Blane’s mouth hard and fast.

But the knowledge that Blane had plans—and had him tied up, in a way—made him stop. Falcon curled his toes into the couch, gasping with desperation when Blane pulled his mouth off him.

“Is this the fucking? Please fuck me,” Falcon groaned, rubbing his body against Blane’s and trying to hook a leg around his waist.

“Upstairs.”

Falcon didn’t even try to make his whine more graceful. “Blane.”

“C’mon.” Blane gently untangled him from his clothes and left them on the couch, then took his hand and tugged him to his feet.

Falcon ground against Blane as soon as they were standing. “A wall? A floor?”

“An extra ten seconds and you can have lube.”

“Don’t fucking care,” Falcon muttered, but he grinned. “Fine.”

“Up you get.” Blane scooped him off his feet, and Falcon gasped, wrapping his legs around his waist.

“You aren’t—carrying me upstairs? You ridiculous man,” Falcon laughed as Blane started to make for the stairs. “I can walk.”

“I said I’d take care of you.” Blane’s voice was teasing. “Your knees are all wobbly. You might fall.”

“You might fall,” Falcon retorted, but he buried his face in Blane’s shoulder as the ground lifted away from him and the stairs began.

“Not if you don’t distract me.”

Of course Falcon wasn’t going to let that go. He freed one arm from Blane’s neck and reached between them until he had both their dicks lined up against each other and squeezed together.

“Little fucker,” Blane whispered, his voice hoarse, when Falcon stroked slowly, casually.

“I gotta make my own fun here.”

“Oh, I promise you don’t,” Blane growled right into his ear, and suddenly he was on the bed, Blane over him and grinding hard.

Falcon moaned and gave in, letting his arms fall above his head while Blane rutted against him until his damp cock started to pulse with the same need that he’d just barely avoided downstairs.

“Fuck me. Now,” Falcon panted. He ached for something in him—not just anything, but Blane. He wanted all of his senses to be filled with the strong certainty of him.

Wet fingers touched him as Blane pulled away, and Falcon eagerly spread his legs, gulping back his gasp at the cool gel against needy nerves.

Two fingers slid slowly into him, deep enough to rub the sensitive nerves on the way in and out. Then Blane’s cock head was against him, hot, rounded, and huge. Falcon pushed up and into him as he breathed out.

He was inside, filling Falcon up with the kind of heat he’d dreamed of since they first bumped into each other.

Falcon’s eyes fluttered open, and he caught Blane watching him closely, with something… something fond in his expression.

His heart fluttered. The look didn’t vanish when he looked straight at him. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Falcon whispered. “More than.”

Like they’d agreed, casual anal wasn’t always all it was cracked up to be, but this… this wasn’t walking into a guy’s house and finding himself bent over the table two minutes later.

It wasn’t coaxing himself into arousal and excitement, it was just the opposite—trying to hold back on the passion Blane had ignited under his skin.

Falcon needed him.

Blane filled him up in slow, steady thrusts until he bottomed out. His cock felt like Falcon’s utter limit, but in the best possible way. That expression was serious. “Still good?”

“Fuck, yes,” Falcon hissed with impatience. “You have a big cock, I have big dildos. I’m good.”

Blane’s laugh was beautiful. Startled from him, there was no restraint, no half-checking to see if anyone was watching. It was a kind of joy that sprang straight from the soul, and Falcon couldn’t help but stare at his expression—the tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes, the flash of so many teeth.

“I love your attitude.”

Falcon flushed with pleasure but tried to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. Show me what you got.”

And Blane did, with thrusts that took away Falcon’s capacity to be his usual perky, incorrigible self. He didn’t take it easy, either, setting just the right pace.

Shit, he was in amazing shape. Blane’s muscles rippled as he braced himself on his forearms, his ass flexing and thighs tightening with each hard thrust delivered at just the right angle into Falcon’s needy tightness.

Falcon realized he was panting, “Fuck,” and, “Yes!” under his breath and rolled his head back, clearing his throat to moan them louder.

Blane’s flushed cheeks and intense eyes told him that he was getting close, if the demanding pace didn’t. Good. The electric charge that rippled along Falcon’s skin was going to be impossible to resist this time around.

“You’re so good. Fucking hot,” Falcon moaned, digging his nails into Blane’s back and hauling him down to kiss him hard, open-mouthed, with tongue and teeth.

And Blane met him halfway, kissing dirty and panting into his mouth. “Gonna come in you, baby.” The condom made that half-true, but Falcon still shivered with delight at the words.

“Yeah. I’m gonna, too,” Falcon managed. “I’m so—so goddamn close. Gonna… Blane…”

It could be like this all the time. The thought sent shivers of agreement through Falcon, but he set it aside for later. No sense making rash statements—offers—when his brain was close to as primal as it had ever been.

Yes, yes. Yes, I want it to be. “Yes!” He arched against Blane, his thighs trembling and tightening as he spilled his wet need across himself.

Blane growled and redoubled his pace, fucking him until the bed creaked, and then he heard his name—breathless but unmistakable—and Blane crashed into him, thrusts erratic and deep.

When Blane’s arms started to weaken, his cock soften, Falcon pulled Blane against him as he slid out of him. He didn’t feel empty, though, with Blane right here above him, blanketing him with both his weight and the very energy of his presence. All he could smell or taste or think of was Blane.

Shit. Oh, shit. I love him.

It was too soon—too casual a relationship—not the right time—just the orgasm talking. Falcon’s mind fumbled for excuses, but the truth was undeniable. He felt it in his heart more than his head.

Blane’s breathing slowed, and he finally rolled onto his side slightly. “Am I crushing you?”

“I like crushes,” he mumbled.

Blane chuckled slightly, running a finger up Falcon’s side and shifting onto a forearm. “Good. It’s easy, with you.”

To crush on me? He has to mean that, doesn’t he?

Falcon’s mind fumbled for words, and the first thing he came out with was a half-panicked, “Are you still on for the wedding?”

Blane blinked a few times as if trying to figure him out. No wonder. Falcon didn’t even know where that had come from himself, and he was blushing now, trying to think how to take back the words without sounding totally weird.

“Yeah, I am,” Blane said, cutting off his thoughts with a confident little smile. “If you want me to be. A fake date?”

“Yeah,” Falcon whispered, but his eyes caught Blane’s and held them. The question there was met with his own.

Neither of them dared break the silence for a long minute. Then, Blane slowly smiled and leaned in to kiss Falcon for long enough that he’d nearly forgotten the question.

“It’ll be fun.”

Blane turned onto his back and pulled Falcon against his chest in an easy motion, and Falcon let him. It gave him the chance to tuck his head against his chest and look down, not straight into his face. And recover himself.

And think about what had just been said—not said—in that moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, it will be.”