“Why the hell haven’t I been letting you cook for me for the last two weeks, again?” Ollie asked, looking more delicious with his flushed cheeks and comfortable slouch than any dish Dagen could throw together.

“Just stubborn, I guess,” Dagen teased before pausing and holding Ollie’s gaze. “Ready for dessert?”

Ollie groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way I have room for anything else… what is it?”

Chuckling Dagen rose from his chair and cleared their plates. After setting them on the counter, he looked back to his companion before he went to get the small bakery box he’d stashed in the pantry after his mid-afternoon coffee run. He didn’t know what prompted him to do it, other than a hope that he would have something sweet to offer Ollie should they have occasion for dessert and the cupcakes had looked particularly appealing that afternoon. Walking back to the table he held Ollie’s eyes and felt the same heat that had been licking at his insides that morning turn a notch higher.

Something had shifted between them that morning, and then shifted again when Ollie had let Dagen hug him downstairs.

“Isn’t cake on the that shall not be named food list?” Ollie questioned as he craned his neck to get a look inside the clear window on top of the bakery box when Dagen placed it in the middle of the table.

“Shhhhh, quiet you,” Dagen hushed with a grin as he opened the box and reached inside to hand Ollie a cupcake. “You can’t tell Harbor about this. He’ll kill me. Maybe literally.”

“Nah. He likes you too much.”

“He likes cake more.” Dagen had barely retaken his seat when Ollie leaned across the corner of the table and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and started to pull back. Dagen’s heart was thundering as he brought his hand up to Ollie’s cheek and pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was hesitant at first, testing, until Dagen sighed when Ollie fingers trailed along his beard and Ollie slipped his tongue inside. At the first brush of them together the heat between them exploded. Ollie came out of his chair and stepped between Dagen and the table, inserting himself between Dagen’s spread legs, and bending down to claim his mouth. Dagen’s hands were everywhere. Anywhere he could reach. Palming Ollie’s ass and sliding down the backs of his legs then back up again.

Ollie tore his mouth away and rested his forehead against Dagen’s. “There’s something I want to try. I’ve been thinking about it since the other night—”

“Yes,” Dagen interrupted, guessing what Ollie was talking about, but not really caring if he was wrong. He couldn’t imagine Ollie wanting something that he didn’t even as he hoped like hell that the possessive glint in Ollie’s eye meant what he thought it did.

Ollie took a deep breath and tried to gather himself. Dagen had done exactly what Ollie asked him to do, and now Ollie stood, trembling with need as he took in the spread of Dagen’s legs where he stood with his back to Ollie and his hands braced against the kitchen island. Just as he’d been when I wrapped his leg to outline his tattoo.

He was wearing the same slick, dark basketball shorts he favored when at home. The material molded like a second skin over the sculpted globes of his ass, and Ollie's eyes traveled from the taut perfection up to the broad expanse of Dagen's back. Even completely relaxed, Ollie could see the outline of muscles moving with the rhythm of his breathing.

Dagen's sides expanded in what looked like a deep breath before his voice snapped Ollie out of the lustful trance he'd fallen into.

"Ollie? We don't have to do this now if you don't wan—"

"No, I… I want to." Stepping closer, Ollie knelt down behind Dagen. The first brush of fingers against the back of Dagen's thigh told Ollie that he wasn't the only one affected.

Dagen stilled, then stood up straight before looking down over his shoulder at Ollie, dark heat swirling in his gaze. Ollie's skin prickled as awareness stretched between them. Dagen's hand went to the waistband of his shorts, and he lowered them down his trim hips and over the swell of his muscular thighs until gravity took hold and carried them down to pool on the floor around his bare feet.

Lifting one foot out of the shorts, Dagen kicked them away with the other, and with one last glance at Ollie, placed his hands back against the island. Ollie reached forward, fingers landing among the soft, dark hair scattered over the back of Dagen's thigh. Dagen shuddered and pressed back into Ollie's touch.

Coming up on his knees, Ollie traced his fingertips along the area the tattoo would lay over the injury that had brought Dagen so much pain. He stopped when he reached the material of his briefs, electric blue with hot pink edging, and grinned as he ran his index finger just below the edge of Dagen's ass. “These are sexy,” Ollie purred, and Dagen drew in a shaky breath.

Ollie licked the salty sheen from his upper lip. The current running between them was overwhelming reason and sense. Ollie felt possessed as he moved the pad of a single finger up to rest on the edge of those colorful briefs. Nothing in his life had ever felt like this, and he wanted, needed, to know if Dagen was feeling the same.

“Ollie.” It was a plea and the weight of it would have dropped Ollie to his knees if he wasn’t already there. He’d only ever topped once before. Before Justin and his life falling apart. It blew him away that this was something Dagen would want from him.

With Justin it had seemed like all he’d wanted was to control Ollie. To bend Ollie to his will. It’s how he knew how different whatever was happening between him and Dagen was.

Dagen may want Ollie to take him, and while just the thought was sending a powerful wave of emotion through him, it wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about dominance. It was about pleasuring each other and trusting each other. Ollie was humbled by it.

“I need to hear you say it, Dagen,” he managed to gasp out, already letting his fingers creep higher.

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Ollie’s hand gripped one firm globe of Dagen’s ass. He groaned at the feel of it and leaned forward, pressing his panting mouth against the meat of the other cheek and biting down. Dagen’s whole body trembled, something like a sob falling from his lips. It was all Ollie needed.

Manic energy exploded in his chest and Ollie stood. Dagen made a confused sound and started to straighten when Ollie stepped forward and pressed his chest to Dagen's back, urging him to put his hands back on the island. Ollie laid himself over Dagen until they were perfectly aligned with Ollie's groin settled fully against his backside.

"Do you want this?" Ollie asked, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. Ollie's hands gripped his hips, and he rocked forward, his erection sliding along the crevice of Dagen's perfect ass.

"God, yes. Ollie, fuck."

He reached out and gripped Dagen's forearms. They were too large for his fingers to fully close around, so he dug his digits lightly into the straining muscle there and stood back up as he slid his hands up sculpted arms and shoulders.

Dagen's head dropped forward with a groan as Ollie continued to drive his hips forward and back while his hands traveled down and beneath his shirt until they met hot skin. "Tell me you have condoms and lube?"

Dagen nodded quickly, head still bowed and said, "In my nightstand."

Pushing the shirt up, Ollie leaned down and licked a wet stripe up his spine before resting his forehead between Dagen's shoulder blades. "Don't move."

He was proud of how strong his voice came out, and with a press of lips, he forced himself away to run down the hall to Dagen's room.

It only took seconds to find what he needed, what he suspected they both needed, before he was turning back toward the kitchen, only for the visual as he turned the corner to stop him in his tracks.

Dagen’s shirt was piled on the floor beside his discarded shorts and he had the fingers of one big hand resting just under the waistband at the back of his briefs, waiting to push them down.

Dagen's heart was pounding. Ollie stood like a statue at the mouth of the hallway, lips parted and eyes glued to where his fingers disappeared beneath the waistband of his favorite Garcon briefs. He inched the waistband down, but before he got even halfway over his cheek, Ollie was on him.

Sliding his hand in over Dagen's, he pushed the soft material all the way down, then gripped the meat of Dagen's cheek in a firm grasp. Dagen craned his neck further to see Ollie's face just as he leaned forward and playfully bit along the back of Dagen's shoulder.

"I thought I told you not to move?"

Between Ollie's breath hot against his skin and the hand massaging his ass, Dagen thought he might explode. He couldn't believe this was happening, but he was praying it didn't stop.

He was too tall to be able to kiss Ollie from this angle and was just about to turn around so he could get another taste of those lips when the hand palming his ass slid around and gripped his cock.

There was no stopping the moan that spilled out of him or the way his body pressed forward to get more friction from the tight circle now holding him. Ollie stroked him slowly from root to tip, gathering the precum there and spreading it down the length of him.

To the sadness of more than one hook-up, he didn't have a monster cock. He was a solid six inches and girthy which he thought was perfectly sufficient even after being met with enough disappointed stares that he'd become a bit gun shy about it.

Ollie didn't seem to have any such complaints as his grip tightened, bringing him out of his head and back to the pleasure of Ollie's hands on him.

"Where did you go?" Ollie whispered against his shoulder.

Shaking his head, Dagen shifted back, sliding his ass back and forth over the erection he could feel pressing against him through the pants Ollie was still wearing. "Take your clothes off, Ollie. I want to feel your skin."

The hand around him disappeared a moment before the weight against his back followed suit. Ollie set the bottle of lube and strip of condoms down on the counter a moment before his clothes went flying in same the direction as Dagen's discarded clothes.

When Ollie pressed back against him, there was nothing separating them, and they both gasped at the delicious slide of skin on skin.

"Oh my god, you feel so good," Ollie moaned, hands sliding over everything he could reach and sending Dagen's already pounding arousal into a nearly unbearable state.

"Ollie, please. I promise you can touch all you want, but after…"

Ollie chuckled and punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips. "After what?"

"Fuck me, dammit," Dagen growled, arching his back to get Ollie's dick closer to where he wanted it.

"Fuck, you're beautiful." Ollie's voice was low, awe-filled, and Dagen flushed. No one had ever unraveled him like this before. Ollie had barely touched him, and he was ready to blow all over the side of their kitchen island.

Ollie could feel the strain in Dagen's body as he pushed back against him, and the tenuous hold he had on his control snapped. He pressed forward, dick leaking all over the skin of Dagen's ass, and grabbed a condom and the lube. Tearing the foil packet with his teeth, he grabbed the latex inside and rolled it down his length.

Dagen had dropped his head forward again, and spread his legs a little wider, giving Ollie better access. Leaning back, Ollie opened the lube and squeezed a big dollop into his palm, spreading some over himself, and then gently massaging Dagen's hole before slipping a finger inside.

He had to rest his forehead against Dagen's back, panting as that tight heat enveloped him, and wondered how he'd ever survive putting his dick in there.

One finger fucking in and out quickly became two, and as Ollie worked him open, Dagen writhed against him, panting and cursing. The skin beneath his other hand was damp with sweat and Ollie could feel his own gathering along his scalp and the small of his back. He was afraid this was going to be over so fast.

"Dammit, Ollie. I'm ready!" Dagen said for what could have been the hundredth time, and Ollie brushed a kiss to the shifting muscle to the right of his spine. He gently pulled his fingers from the grip of Dagen's body, and before any more protests could be voiced, pressed the head of his dick against Dagen's entrance.

Ollie knew that if Dagen really wanted to, he could press back and rush this. Ollie gripped his hips in warning for Dagen to remain still. His knuckles were white where they clung to the edge of the counter and a tremor went through the whole of him.

"Dagen?" Ollie urged, needing to hear him say it just one more time.

The voice that had been lust drunk and nearly begging was quieter now. Gentle, but no less certain.

"I want this."

Ollie pushed forward.

It had been a long time, years, since he'd had something other than his own fingers or a dildo inside him. Neither of which compared to the man breaking him to pieces stroke after perfect stroke. Dagen couldn't feel his hands gripping the counter or the bruising hold Ollie had on his hips or even his feet planted wide on the floor. His entire world was reduced to the sure glide of Ollie's length inside him. Connecting them.

He'd relished the idea of being taken this way, from behind, without being able to see the man drilling into him. Something about it had always seemed exhilarating, and it still was, but he felt so much more than that. Because it wasn't just some man. It was Ollie. With his busted knuckles and bruised ribs and neutral mask he showed the world. Dagen wanted to gaze into his eyes and see that whatever had driven him halfway across the country wasn't what was driving him now. That he was just as affected as Dagen.

The furious rhythm of Ollie's strokes started to falter, and his breathing turned almost harsh. Dagen was so close he could barely think and lifted a hand to reach for himself, but Ollie beat him to it, releasing one of his hips to encircle Dagen's cock once again with a sure grip. He wasted no time, quickly matching the pumping of his hand to that of his hips.

Breath seized in Dagen's chest as the swell of pleasure rose and broke over him, and he spilled over Ollie's fist with a gasp. Behind him Ollie grunted, fucking him through his orgasm and climaxing himself before he collapsed against Dagen's back. They stilled for a moment before Dagen was turning with a wince as Ollie's cock slipped out of him. He grasp Ollie by the back of his thighs and lifted.

Ollie yelped, eyes widening as he wrapped his arms and legs around Dagen. Dagen spun, setting Ollie bare-assed on the island counter and sealing their mouths together. Ollie tilted his head, giving them both a better angle and parted his lips, welcoming Dagen in.

The swipe of their tongues together sent a jolt straight to Dagen's groin, and if it were possible he knew he'd be hard again already. The kiss deepened and then slowed, all the while Dagen ran his hands over every part of Ollie. From his shoulders down to his ass and thighs, and gently back up over his sides, across his chest until he had Ollie's face cupped in his hands.

"You're beautiful," he whispered against Ollie's lips, giving Ollie's words back to him. They were nothing less than true.

The corners of Ollie's mouth lifted, and he brushed his lips over Dagen's again.

"That was amazing."

Dagen smiled back at him. "Fuck yes, it was." He reached around Ollie and grabbed a hand towel off the counter to clean up their mess before tossing it towards their pile of clothes. He felt the still damp length of Ollie's dick against his stomach and pulled back just enough to reach between them and remove the condom. Ollie sucked in a breath at the contact, and Dagen grinned. Picking up the lube and condoms from the counter with his free hand, he handed them to Ollie, then said, "Hold on."

Ollie strengthened the clasp of his arms and legs. Dagen slid his empty hand under Ollie's ass and lifted, turning toward the hallway.

"You know," Ollie said, "Normally, I think I'd complain about this, but it's kind of fucking hot."

Dagen chuckled, paused by the trash can and tossed the condom before using both hands to hold Ollie's ass all the way to his bedroom leaving the cupcakes sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, forgotten.