Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

They eat, and Carter’s actually pretty proud of himself - his cooking isn’t half bad. He says as much to Scott, but Scott’s mouth is too full to respond, and Carter grins. It’s good to see Scott eating, as skinny as he is, and it’s even better to see him enjoying something Carter’s made like this. He thinks he could get used to this. Like, really used to it.

It’s easy to let those thoughts take over after a few drinks - Carter hadn’t meant to drink tonight, he really hadn’t, determined to keep his head. But Scott was already handing him a glass before he’d had a chance to make his intentions known, smiling as he sipped at his own drink, and Carter’s never been good at turning down anything Scott was offering. When they move to the couch after dinner, Carter’s head is buzzing nicely, and Scott sits right next to him, burrowing under Carter’s arm.

“Today turned out all right,” Carter murmurs.

“Yeah.”

“Started out weird, but it’s okay now.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry about making it weird this morning. I just... wasn’t sure. Thinking too much, you know how it is.”

Scott noses up under Carter’s jaw, and Carter doesn’t think twice about it. Scott loves cuddling. It’s normal. Even when he kisses Carter’s cheek, that’s normal too.

“We’re friends,” Carter says. “I’m glad we can... be friends. Like we are. It’s the whole overthinking thing, it gets me all confused. I start thinking I messed it up, or I don’t know how you feel about... everything, and...”

Scott pushes himself up and kisses Carter square on the mouth. It’s a chaste kiss, short and sweet, but it makes Carter’s heart speed up. He’s been thinking about this all fucking day.

“So stop thinking,” Scott tells him quietly. Carter nods and slides a hand up to the back of Scott’s neck, pulls him in for another kiss. Longer this time, but still innocent. Still friendly.

“We kiss all the time,” Carter whispers. “We can do this, can’t we? We can be friends that kiss.”

Scott nods before Carter even finishes speaking. “Yeah, yes.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. We’re just friends.”

“Okay.” Scott leans in again, and this time he opens his mouth, inviting Carter’s tongue to play. Carter doesn’t hesitate. It doesn’t feel like crossing a line anymore, and really, it feels too good for Carter to even care if it did.

His body knows how to do this, and it’s a relief to stop thinking, to slide a hand into Scott’s hair and angle his face just right, to lick into his mouth slow and warm and deep. Scott goes easy for Carter, as he always has, and it sends a shiver of excitement through Carter to feel that unhesitating acquiescence, the way Scott lets him press, lets him take. He moans softly into Scott’s mouth and pulls a knee up under himself on the couch, wanting to lay Scott out on his back and crawl on top of him, or pull Scott over to straddle his lap, or - but he holds himself back, just keeps kissing. Kissing is awesome. He loves kissing. He can ignore the rest of his body. He has before.

Carter pulls back to catch his breath, but his hands don’t seem to want to stop touching, lingering in Scott’s hair, on his face. Scott looks up at Carter and presses into the touch, rubbing his cheek into Carter’s palm, and Carter shivers again.

“Fuck, Scott, you can’t just do that,” Carter half-whispers.

Scott’s eyes go wide. “What?”

Carter takes a shuddering breath and pulls his hands back to himself. “Make me...want. Things.”

Scott’s silent for a long moment, looking down, biting his lip. Carter wants to bite it for him and lick it better, angry red marks left behind. He can hardly make out the words when Scott speaks again. “What do you want, Carter?”

“Things you don’t.” He’s sure of that, if nothing else. Scott’s reaction to their last...incident had made that clear enough. Carter doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the wince of pain on Scott’s face, or the uncharacteristic sharpness of his words. That’s not the Scott he knows. Wants.

He doesn’t know what he expects Scott to say. Something. Instead, Scott reaches up and puts his arms around Carter’s neck and kisses him again, hard and desperate, almost painful, and Carter can’t breathe, can’t close his eyes, can’t even think. He feels strung too tight, shaking with everything he’s determined not to let himself do.

Scott shifts and buries his face in Carter’s neck, and whispers into his skin. “You don’t know what I want, Carter. You...I don’t...”

Scott’s lips are brushing against his skin, and his breath is warm and rushed, and Carter looks up toward the ceiling with wide, desperate eyes, a silent plea into the ether. “So tell me,” he says.

Scott doesn’t say anything. He crawls up over Carter’s lap, straddling him, and wraps both arms tight around Carter’s neck so Carter can’t push him off. Scott kisses him, so fast and hard Carter feels like Scott is breaking, coming apart at the seams. In between these breathless kisses he hears Scott murmuring, and it takes him a second to tune into the words.

“I want this,” he hears. “Please, I want it, I do...”

Carter groans. He wants to believe, he does, but... “You said that last time, too.”

Scott freezes, but he doesn’t let go, and when he answers he sounds serious. “I didn’t know.”

“And you do now?”

Scott pulls back and looks Carter right in the eye. It’s strange, intense - unfamiliar, almost, and it makes Scott’s words sound important. Honest. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Carter’s hesitant to push forward after Scott’s words, I think. But the open, raw expression on Scott’s face tips him past his uncertainty. Scott might not be able to say what he wants, but it’s right there, clear on his face.

Carter gets his hands under Scott’s ass and stands up, lifting Scott with him, and Scott’s fingers dig into Carter’s shoulders through his thin t-shirt. Carter takes a few halting steps toward the stairs, intending to take Scott all the way up to his bed, but Scott kisses him again and Carter gets sidetracked, pushes Scott hard against the wall to take some of his weight so Carter can focus on the kiss. He lets Scott slide down, and Scott seems reluctant to stand on his own feet again, but Carter needs his hands in Scott’s hair. He needs to pull, he needs to angle Scott just right. Scott moans against him and sinks lower, and Carter follows him down, leaning over him and crowding him against the wall in an effort to stay upright.

For a second, Carter almost gives up on the stairs and imagines staying right here, pulling his clothes off and pushing Scott right up onto the wall, getting those legs around his waist again...and fuck, his cock likes that idea, hips pressing harder into Scott’s body. But he forces himself to take a step back and shakes his head, laughing a little at himself. He thinks about the cold deck chairs and waking up covered in dew. They couldn’t even make it inside last time. He needs this to be better.

Scott gives him a confused look. “What?”

Carter pins Scott with a heated stare. “I want you in my bed.”

He takes Scott’s hand and pulls him to the stairs, and Scott stumbles a little at the sudden rush, but he recovers quickly and he never lets go, never slides free of Carter’s grasp. Carter leads him all the way to his bedroom and then turns around, catching Scott by his arms and holding him still for another thorough kiss. Scott feels weak in his arms and it makes Carter smile.

“I can feel how much you want this,” he murmurs, and Scott shivers under his touch, just as responsive as Carter remembers. He walks backwards slowly, pulling Scott toward the bed, and they’re kissing again the second they hit the mattress, hardly able to keep away from each other now that they don’t have to. But something about being here, in the bed Carter’s slept in alone ever since that last night with Alex...it makes Carter want to slow down, take his time. Scott deserves better than a rushed, drunken fuck Carter hardly remembers.

He pulls away, pushes himself up on his hands to let Scott catch his breath under him, and Scott groans. “No, please, come on,” he says. Carter shakes his head.

“I’m right here, baby. Not gonna hurt you this time. Never want to hurt you.”

Scott relaxes at that, smiles up at Carter with his arms spread wide on the bed.

“Want to see you,” Carter tells him. “Want you naked. Come on.”

Carter sits up and Scott follows his lead; their shirts get tossed to the floor and Scott falls back to the bed, lifting his hips helpfully so Carter can pull off his sweatpants. He gets them all the way off Scott’s socked feet, laughs as he yanks off the socks as well, and then sits up again to see Scott spread out before him, naked and waiting.

Scott’s pale against the dark sheets, pale and small and soft. Carter lets himself touch, his hands stroking all the way up Scott’s legs, circling the points of hipbones, pressing into the slight curve of his waist. He pets over Scott’s stomach, and when Scott makes a face and squirms under him, Carter just smiles and lets his hand linger, fingers spread over Scott’s soft little belly. He can’t believe how tiny Scott feels under him, like he could hold him down with just one hand like this, or pick him up. He skates his nails up over Scott’s ribs, laughing when Scott giggles, and opens his palms over Scott’s soft underarms, stretching his arms up over his head until they can’t go any higher and linking their fingers together at the end. The position leaves their faces close together, and Carter kisses Scott’s open, panting mouth softly and whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

He watches Scott’s forehead wrinkle, and Scott asks, “Will you fuck me now?”

“Not yet,” Carter tells him. “Want to taste you first. Wanna get my mouth on that gorgeous fucking cock.” He kisses Scott again when Scott gasps, stealing the breath from his lips, then slides back down and kneels in the space between Scott’s legs.

He takes his time, kissing Scott’s belly, his hips, the soft, hairless skin of his inner thighs. It’s warm in the room, but goosebumps spring up under his touch, and he can feel the tension in Scott’s muscles, the want and the anticipation. He glances up, all the way up the line of Scott’s body.

“Relax, baby, we’ll get there,” Carter says, and Scott stares down at him and whines low in his throat. But he’s smiling through it, and Carter smiles back - he knows this game, and he knows he’s good at it.

Scott’s cock is hard, curving up against his belly and leaking precome, and Carter braces his hands on Scott’s hips and leans down and licks, a broad wet stripe with the flat of his tongue all the way up the length.

“Oh fuck yes,” Scott gasps, arching up toward Carter, his body begging for more.

“Yeah? Just like that?” Carter asks, teasing. He doesn’t give Scott a chance to answer, just leans down again and sucks Scott’s cock into his mouth, no hands, just lips and tongue and well-earned skill. He’s always loved doing this, the messy rush of it and the power trip, and Scott just lets himself go, lets Carter take him apart with his tongue.

Carter feels a slight touch against his cheek, and when he opens his eyes he sees Scott’s hands hovering in midair, fingers opening and closing like they’re looking for something to hang on to. He pulls back just for a moment and licks his lips.

“You can grab my hair if you want. I don’t mind.”

Scott doesn’t answer, but he looks unsure, and his hands don’t move. Carter just smirks and holds Scott’s gaze and lets his tongue play over Scott’s slit, lapping up the viscous bitterness there as it comes. And it does the trick, Scott twisting so hard he nearly wrenches himself out of Carter’s grip. In the next moment, long fingers thread through Carter’s hair, not guiding, just hanging on, and Carter closes his eyes and does his best to give Scott a reason to pull.

Carter stops himself just before Scott comes, sitting up and wiping a hand across his mouth and stroking Scott’s shaking legs, up and down in a slow, calming rhythm. Scott’s panting, and he looks at Carter with desperate eyes and begs.

“Please, fuck, I need to, Carter, I’m almost fucking...just...come on, come on, please don’t stop...”

Carter reaches out and lays one still hand over Scott’s cock, just to feel it twitch. “I know, baby, I know. It’s okay. Trust me. Gonna make it so good for you, I promise.”

He works the zipper on his jeans and strips them off quickly with his underwear, then stretches out on his side, gathering Scott up in his arms and pulling him in close, fitting the curves of their bodies together. His cock is pressed perfectly up against Scott’s ass, but Carter makes himself ignore it for the moment. He focuses on other things instead: his hands as they stroke up and down, petting Scott’s chest. His chest pressed along Scott’s back, all that bare skin. His nose buried in Scott’s hair. He smells like Carter’s shampoo, and the thought makes Carter hold Scott tighter and bite gently into his neck.

“Mine,” he murmurs, not thinking, regretting it a second later.

But Scott just presses back harder into Carter’s body, and makes a happy, contented sound, almost a hum. He reaches down to grab his neglected cock, and Carter follows him, covering Scott’s hand with his own and stroking with entwined fingers. When Carter feels as though Scott is on the cusp again, he pulls their hands away, much to Scott’s disappointment. He guides Scott’s hand behind him, to Carter’s hip, and whispers to him to hold on, grab him as tight as he needs.

Carter stretches over Scott and squirts some lube into his hand from the pump-top bottle on his nightstand, and now Scott knows what’s coming, and he moans loudly. Carter laughs and sucks a kiss on the back of Scott’s neck.

“You like that, baby? You want it?”

“Yeah, fuck, I want you in me,” Scott says, shifting restlessly and pushing himself back against Carter.

Carter brings his hand down to Scott’s ass and rubs his fingers over his asshole, smearing the lube around and getting Scott used to his touch. Scott doesn’t seem to need the slow teasing, but his eagerness just makes Carter want to slow things down even more, to draw it out and make Scott truly desperate. When he finally presses in, just a bit, he can feel the hitch in Scott’s breathing, and he can’t stop himself from whispering in Scott’s ear, talking him through it.

“That’s right, baby, fuck, you take it so good...want you to feel me.” Scott moans, and Carter presses in deeper, listening to the pitch of it change as he does. “Feel good?”

“So good, Carter, fucking missed this, wanted it...”

“You want more?”

“Want it all, please, please...”

At that, Carter has to close his eyes, has to pause and imagine spending a whole night opening Scott up until he can take everything, Carter’s whole hand pressing inside him. He’s done it before, once or twice, and god, it’s amazing, being able to make someone come with just the tiny twitch of a knuckle. But not tonight. Tonight is about other things. More important things.

He spends another few moments opening Scott up, playing around his asshole with one, two, and finally three fingers, stretching him until the only word coming out of his mouth is “please”, and only then does he move his hand and let himself feel the anticipation. He reaches over Scott again, this time going for a condom, and grinds his cock hard against Scott’s ass.

“You want it?” he asks, and Scott doesn’t even wait until the question is out before nodding his head frantically. “All right, all right, settle now.”

He lays a hand on Scott’s hip to calm him, then pulls on the condom and lines up his cock. Scott’s arm is stretched out in front of him, clenching around a handful of sheets; Carter takes him by the wrist, guides Scott’s hand down to his knee, and gives Scott a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

“Hold on here,” he says, and Scott pulls his knee higher, putting himself on display for Carter. “That’s it, baby, that’s right,” Carter breathes, almost overwhelmed by the sight. He has Scott spread open and waiting for him, exactly like one of his fantasies. He sucks in a deep breath and curls forward, resting his forehead against the nape of Scott’s neck, and holds onto Scott’s hip while he pushes his cock in.

Carter loses the sound of Scott’s groan of satisfaction under his own much louder moan. He lifts his head and occupies his mouth with Scott’s neck and shoulders, biting and sucking gently until there are pink marks all over Scott’s pale skin and Scott is squirming back and forth on the bed, looking for friction, movement, something. Carter grabs Scott’s hand, laces their fingers together around Scott’s thigh as they had been around his cock. He doesn’t want Scott coming yet.

“Wait for me, Scott,” he growls into Scott’s ear, pulling the pierced shell into his mouth. The earrings taste sharp but Scott’s skin around them feels hot and sweet. He bites, gently, sucking the earrings against his tongue, and Scott cries out.

“Carter, please, Carter,” he whimpers, and Carter can feel Scott’s hand twitching beneath his own, desperate to reach for his cock.

Carter tries to keep up his slow, rolling pace, but the feel of Scott writhing and moaning against him isn’t working in his favor. He finally reaches for Scott’s cock, closing his fist around him before Scott can even force his hand to move in that direction and jacking him off quick and steady, a never-ceasing build to the finish. Scott comes with another loud cry, clenching around Carter and slapping an open palm to the bundle of wrinkled sheets beneath him, and then he turns his face into the pillow. Carter can hear him breathing hard through his teeth, and the tips of his ears and the back of his neck are flushed so red. His skin tastes like fire on Carter’s tongue.

Carter wipes his hand on Scott’s belly, smearing the come until his hand is somewhat dry, enough for him to grasp Scott’s hip again and push him all the way over onto his stomach. Carter follows him, positioning his knees between Scott’s thighs and propping himself up on his elbow, giving himself more leverage to quicken his pace.

Scott’s still panting under him, but his body is loose and relaxed, his arms and legs sprawled open and rocking with Carter’s thrusts. He’s quiet now, too, and Carter sort of misses his desperate pleas. He fits his teeth around the junction of Scott’s neck and shoulder and bites down hard, and oh, there it is, there’s Scott’s high-pitched cry again.

“Baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Carter tells him, “so good for me. So fucking good.”

“Carter,” Scott moans. “Fuck, fuck, Carter, let me feel you, come on. Please.”

Scott is so slick now, so loose, and finally, Carter lets himself go, lets his hips really fuck like they’ve been wanting to for ages. He looks down and watches, watches himself disappearing into Scott’s body, stretching him so wide, so easy, and oh god, he’s so fucking close. One hand goes to Scott’s back, right between the shoulder blades, pushing Scott down into the bed, and the other pulls at his hip, angling him just right for Carter to go fast and deep, over and over and over until he can’t hold back any more.

The new angle pushes another low moan out of Scott, and one of his hands goes to his pillow, clawing weakly and curling into a loose fist. He turns his head to the side and Carter can finally see his profile, see the wide spread of his lip as he pants for air and the dark fan of his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

Carter watches Scott’s face, pressed deeper into the pillow with every thrust, until he can’t, until he’s coming, eyes shut tight and head thrown back and fingernails digging hard into Scott’s skin, hips flush against Scott’s ass and cock buried deep. He holds himself up as long as he can, but his arms are shaking and all his energy seems to have flooded out of him with his orgasm, and he slumps down right on top of Scott, just for a moment, just until his breath comes back.

Carter listens to the quick, sharp sounds of Scott breathing; he can feel Scott’s chest expanding beneath him, his bony shoulder blades poking into Carter’s skin as Scott shifts his arms around to a more comfortable position, but in a way that Carter doesn’t really mind. He likes feeling Scott so close to him. And then he realizes why Scott’s breathing hasn’t slowed, and he pushes himself back up on his elbows.

“Shit, sorry. Fuck. Didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Scott cuts in, “I liked it.” He doesn’t look at Carter as he says so, just closes his eyes and nuzzles the pillow under his cheek. “Stay, please?”

“I’m squishing you,” Carter protests, and pushes himself all the way up, pulling out of Scott and shifting to sit back on his heels, ignoring Scott’s incoherent mumbling. Scott doesn’t move off his stomach, even though Carter knows he usually sleeps on his side, and this time his breathing does slow and even out as he starts to doze.

Carter bends down and kisses Scott’s shoulder, careful to keep his weight off Scott this time. “I’ll be right back, Scott.”

In the bathroom, Carter gets rid of the condom and cleans himself up with a damp washcloth. He wets it again and wrings it out for Scott, but when he gets back to the bed, Scott’s fast asleep. Carter nudges his arm experimentally but Scott doesn’t wake. Carter slowly, carefully rolls Scott over onto his back so he can wipe up the mess on Scott’s stomach, and then the lube smeared between his legs, and Scott moans quietly, stirring a little in his sleep. Carter slides into bed beside him and pulls a blanket up over their bodies, tucking it all the way up under Scott’s chin because Carter knows he gets cold.

He knows so much about Scott. All the little things, like how he takes his coffee and how he likes to sleep. Carter wonders wildly how he could’ve overlooked something like this - something like sex. Scott’s never...well. That’s not entirely true. Scott’s given him lots of hints, lots of signals, but Carter always assumed that was part of the show, a little bit of Scott’s stage persona bleeding over into the everyday. It happens to him, too, sometimes. It’s not like Scott has ever come out and said it before.

Now, though...Carter thinks back sleepily through the mess of Scott’s words, thinks about how he’d said he missed this. Carter shakes his head and stares down at Scott’s sleeping face. As long as Carter’s known him, he doesn’t think he’ll ever fully understand what’s going on in Scott’s head. He would have thought Scott would never want Carter to touch him again after the drunken wreck that was their first time. But apparently he would have been wrong.

He reaches out and lets his fingers play gently through Scott’s hair where it’s fanned out on the pillow. It’s weird...he’s fantasized about Scott before, sure, but he’s never thought about being with him. For real. Scott’s not a relationship guy. But...Carter takes a breath and glances at Scott’s closed eyes, and wonders if maybe that’s because Scott hasn’t been looking for the right kind of relationship. Maybe pretty, petite girls aren’t Scott’s type after all.

Carter flops back onto his own pillow and thinks about the past few days, about how easily Scott’s fit into his life, and for the first time, he lets himself imagine it. He thinks about what it would be like to come home every day and find Scott waiting for him. He thinks about being on tour again, sharing that big bed with Scott, sharing hotel rooms and room service breakfasts. Kissing backstage because it means something instead of onstage for strangers.

He wishes Scott was awake. Or that he could read his mind. He’s pretty sure Scott wants to do this again...but maybe he doesn’t want anyone else to know about it. Carter takes a shaking breath. He can’t do that. He can’t have a relationship entirely behind closed doors. He’s tried, and it feels wrong, like lying, like denying part of who he is, and he refuses to go back to that. But if Scott would be open, if he was willing... They could do this. Carter could do this.

He’ll be better than he was before. He’ll make up for the hurt he caused Scott. And he’ll give Scott his own space - that’s what Alex said to him. That’s what Hunter said to him, and Carter knows Scott likes keeping to himself. He can’t control anyone other than himself, that’s what his relationships have taught him, and if he wants to make this work - and he does, he really fucking does - he’ll have to be better about applying those lessons.

You’re smart, Carter. You’ll figure it out. His mother’s voice is in his head suddenly, and he closes his eyes and remembers the words he’s heard her say so many times, when he’s been down on himself about one failure or another. Then he looks at Scott again, determined. This time, he’s going to make it work. He has to.