“You,” Travis said as soon as Whitman opened the door.

“Me?” Whitman gulped.

Whitman was never at a loss for words or ideas. He only hoped he hadn’t gotten himself in trouble again.

Travis stalked forward, still in his suit from the courthouse, and kicked the door closed behind him.

“Come here.”

Hands threaded through Whitman’s belt loops and yanked him forward when he didn’t immediately respond to the command.

“But I thought you –

“I’m done running.” Travis’s breath warmed Whitman’s face as he loomed ever nearer, since Whitman was frozen in place. “I thought I hated this place. I couldn’t wait to leave all these nosy, judgy people behind and start fresh. And then came you.”

The lump that had started to form in Whitman’s throat and expand into Whitman’s chest, burst like a pin prick into a balloon. Sparks of joy and electricity skittered through his insides and pebbling his skin. If he didn't burst, he would throw up.

“Are you saying –”

“I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to stay here in Slat Creek and start a life with you. And Mr. Wigglesworth.”

“Uh …”

Thank God Travis was holding onto his waist, because Whitman almost lost the ability to hold his own weight as well as finish complete thoughts. Those same strong arms pulled their bodies flush together, and Travis captured Whitman’s fumbling lips in a kiss.

Their breaths and tongues mingled, and Whitman still might explode out of his body at any moment. And he was supposed to be the experienced one, but as soon as Travis broke their kiss and began to trail his nose underneath Whitman’s jaw, Whitman began to suspect he had never truly experienced pleasure before now.

“I don’t want you to have regrets. I don’t want to be the thing that holds you back.” Whitman tried to put up a reasonable amount of protest in the face of his hazy thoughts, but then Travis nipped at his Adam’s apple and the only argument left was a moan of surrender.

“The only thing I would regret would be not being with you. I’ve been holding back, because I didn’t want to see all the amazing things that were already here for me. But now I know that if I don’t open myself up to you, I’ll always wonder what if. And I don’t want you to be a what if. Now, I’ve waited a long time for this, so please, Whitman, make love to me.”

It was the please that jolted Whitman into action. The floaty, tingly feelings that had filled him higher than Thanksgiving parade balloon gave way to a hot wave of lust and Whitman did what he always did best. Take charge.

The strength in his legs returned and he grabbed Travis’s hair where it tickled against his neck.

“Bedroom,” Whitman said, tightening his hold enough for Travis to suck in a sharp breath through his nose. “Now.”

“I don’t know where –

Whitman lead the way, pulling off his baby blue sweater vest and his purple plaid shirt by the collar without undoing any buttons, on the way. Warm hands reached for his bare back as he came to a stop at the foot of his bed. They spanned the waist of his slacks and dipped down the front, cupping the bulge that had grown.

Whitman pressed back, and Travis groaned at the friction Whitman’s ass gave to his cock. The fingers around his waist dug deeper, the palm pressed harder, until Whitman’s breath was coming out in heavy pants that matched the swiveling rhythm of their hips.

Whitman turned in Travis’s arms and captured his mouth in a short but steamy kiss. “Get naked and get on my bed,” Whitman demanded when the kiss ended but his lips stayed in contact with Travis. His tongue flitted out and licked at the bow of Travis’s mouth, a spot that drew his attention so often he could identify it blindfolded simply by feel.

Travis moved so fast he got himself tangled up in his shirt and tie, which didn’t dampen Whitman’s fire a bit. Whitman grabbed a condom and lube from his bathroom and tossed them beside his pillow on the bed. Travis dropped his pants, his belt landing on the carpet with a thud, and kicked out of his dress shoes. He climbed onto the bed in black boxer briefs and matching black socks.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Whitman’s gaze could set fire to Travis, and from the looks of it, it was certainly heating him on the inside. Travis wriggled under the scrutiny, and palmed the front of his boxers, whimpering when it did nothing to quench the fire raging inside him.

“Let me see you,” Whitman said, and stroked his hands slowly up Travis’s legs until he reached his underwear. He lowered them, just as slow, giving Travis time to cover himself with his hands.

“I’m not used to being so exposed,” Travis said, his lashes fluttering against his wide cheekbones, looking so innocent that Whitman wanted to ruin him.

“You’ve had sex before.” Whitman’s actions stuttered for the first time at the thought.

“Yeah, but never like this.”

Even that came out in a needy whine that set Whitman’s blood on fire. He reached for the lube, and settling in between Travis’s spread legs, pressed slick fingers against Travis’s hole as he captured the tip of Travis’s cock in between his lips.

Travis gasped and Whitman braced himself on an elbow to get his hand at a better angle for entering Travis. He circled and rubbed until Travis relaxed and let in one finger, then two. He hollowed out his cheeks, making Travis’s chest jerk off the bed as he made it three, after Travis had gotten so accustomed to the first two that he was canting his hips to meet each thrust.

Whitman reached up, loving the smooth plans and hard ridges of Travis’s abdomen under his palm. When his fingers found a nipple and tweaked, Travis’s entire body responded, spasming on the bed, so Whitman did it again.

“I need you inside me,” Travis moaned, and Whitman slid off Travis’s cock, leaving a trail of saliva and precum dripping down to his stomach. He wiped his fingers on his fitted sheet and rolled on the condom and added more lube.

Whitman leaned over until he and Travis shared breath. He locked eyes with Travis, a connection that he felt in his very core. As the head of his cock slid along the crevice of his cheeks, Whitman’s breath caught in his chest. He pressed against the sensitive ring until he breached Travis’s body, and all that was left in his vision was the look of complete trust and bliss on Travis’s face surrounded by stars. Travis gripped his cock so tight that his vision tunneled and he struggled not to come on the spot.

Travis raised his hands and held Whitman’s face in his palms, drawing him down for another kiss. He sucked on his bottom lip and Whitman slowly moved further inside him, distracted enough by the sharp bite of Travis’s mouth on his to stave off his orgasm.

Whitman would swear, in that moment, he felt Travis give himself over to Whitman, body and soul. The tension that had grown to a tight and tenuous breaking point released not with a crash or a snap, but with a sigh filled with warmth and trust and passion. Travis let Whitman into his heart as he allowed him to fill his body, and Whitman almost sagged with relief.

Instead, he took his swollen lips and covered every inch of Travis’s face with kisses. As his thrusts grew longer and stronger, he could no longer keep his mouth closed, still he pressed open-mouthed kisses to Travis’s neck and jaw. Each thrust nailed Travis’s prostate and took him higher. Each thrust built inside Whitman until he longed to crack apart, only if it meant Travis would be there to put him back together.

“Whitman,” Travis moaned as streaks of white shot between their bodies and painted Travis’s stomach and chest. “I love you.”

The words were all Whitman needed, and he shattered with the most intense orgasm of his life. Sweat dripped from his body onto Travis as he shook and cried out Travis’s name. When it was over, Whitman discovered tears leaving trails down the sides of Travis’s face and pooling in his ears.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Whitman rubbed his thumbs along Travis’s temples to dry his eyes.

“No. Yes. No. That.” Travis blinked and more tears fell, but they were counter-acted by the goofy smile that stretched his talented mouth wide. “Ha. That was … yeah.”

“That was yeah alright,” Whitman chuckled to see Travis so sated that he had become incoherent. “And I didn’t say it before, because I was a little bit in shock, but I love you too.”

“I know.”

Whitman pointed a look at him and he giggled.

“Oh god, I don’t think I can move.” Travis slowly straightened his legs after Whitman had carefully removed himself from Travis and the condom from himself. They shook and Whitman massaged his thighs and helped him stretch.

“You don’t have to do a thing. Stay right here.” Whitman pressed a kiss to Travis’s nose, then shuffled to the bathroom.

“Why are you walking funny?” Travis said, rolling his head to the side but otherwise staying completely still as Whitman left him.

“I pulled a muscle in my thigh,” Whitman said over the sound of running water. He could still hear Travis snort.

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Whitman came back with a warm rag and flicked the excess water from his hand at Travis’s face. Travis flinched and stuck out his tongue. “You better get used to it. You’re the one who went and fell in love with an old man. You’ll have to take care of me in my old age.”

“You’re hardly old,” Travis tried to slap at him, but flailed a hand in the air and missed. “If you give me a few more minutes to recover, I’ll even give you a massage.”

“Mmm,” Whitman said, tossing the washcloth on the ground and crawling into bed beside Travis. He pulled up the covers and tucked them in together. “It sounds to me like I get all the benefits in this relationship. What exactly are you getting again?”

Travis rolled onto his side and laid his cheek onto Whitman’s chest, over his heart.

“You. I get you.”

Another tear leaked onto his skin and he wrapped his arms around Travis and squeezed tight.

“Don’t ever let me go.”