Seventeen
SKIN WAS his favorite medium. Gus liked the feel of it under his fingers, its heat and the way it gave beneath the push of vibrating metal.
And Rey Montenegro knew exactly what to do to make Gus’s skin sing.
The light on the ceiling was wild, angled and illuminating most of one corner, the off-kilter beam shooting straight up from the lamp one of them knocked off the nightstand. Rey’s unmade bed took up most of the outer wall, a high foam-topped monstrosity with a Mission-style headboard. Its sheets were dark, a blue found in the fold of twilight and shadows. There was a mound of pillows with none of their cases matching the bed linens and a thin quilt half draped over the far corner of the mattress, a patchwork of sprigged and solid muslin squares.
While the bed was their destination, they hadn’t quite made it before Rey moved in and Gus found himself half-naked, breathless, and shoved up against the wall.
The stucco surface was rough on Gus’s back, its texture snagging on his skin. Cold air laved at his belly and sides, waves of goose bumps chased by the fire of Rey’s roaming mouth. He groaned, arching his back, but Rey held him firm, hooking his hands under Gus’s elbows and shoving him lightly against the wall. His arms were trapped in front of him, tangled in the T-shirt he’d taken from Mace’s dresser, and Rey’s weight pressed into him, anchoring him in place.
Hunger drove their sins, careening their lust and desire back and forth across familiar rolling fields. Gus couldn’t get enough of Rey in his mouth, on his skin. Even his long, hard body clenched between the V of Gus’s legs didn’t seem to scratch the raging itch for the man who held him up against the wall. His insides ached, desperate for Rey’s hands on his thighs or ass—really, anywhere he hadn’t been in the last few seconds. Flames licked at his nerves, tightening his muscles, and Gus worked to get his arms free while Rey chuckled, his tongue laving Gus’s nipple into a hard peak.
A seam ripped or a thread popped, and the cotton twisted around his forearms and wrists gave a little bit.
Rey, however, did not.
His mouth seemed to be everywhere. His hands were everywhere. Gus’s skin was too hot, roughened with need until he felt like he’d split apart. Rey tore into him, reaching past the years they’d bricked up between them and picking at every thread of arousal he could find. Fingers clenched around Gus’s upper arms, Rey’s bare shoulders bulged with corded muscle, even though Gus wasn’t putting up a fight. Rey’s teeth worried at a spot beneath Gus’s collarbone, traveling up to his throat where he claimed the spot Gus’s blood pulsed the strongest. The pull of his flesh into Rey’s mouth nearly brought Gus to his knees, and his legs buckled but Rey was there to catch him.
“Help get this damned thing off,” Gus growled, trying to shake his arm loose from the shirt. Stepping away from the wall, his shoulder hit a picture frame, canting it, but he didn’t stop to right it. “Then your pants are next.”
“You’ve gotten a hell of a lot bossier.” Rey tossed the shirt aside once he got Gus’s arms free. Rey’s hands were rough, hardened by work and crisis, but they felt like Heaven on Gus’s bared torso. “And my pants come off right after yours do. Actually, I’ve got a better idea. How about if you just get on the bed and let me do what I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since I heard you’d come home.”
Carpet burned when someone had their feet knocked out from under them, or at least Gus’s did when Rey gently shoved him onto the bed. He landed awkwardly, but at this point Gus didn’t think grace really mattered. Scooting up wasn’t an option, not when Rey’s fingers tugged at his ankle, a firm order for him to stay stretched sideways over the king-sized bed. The bed creaked, springs bowing to Rey’s weight as he climbed onto the mattress. Rey’s knees dimpled the sheets; then Rey’s hands were on his waistband, loosening the drawstrings of his borrowed sweats, then yanking them down to Gus’s hip bones.
Then Rey sat back on his haunches and stared.
Gus knew what Rey saw. The ink on his body told his stories as much as the scars hidden beneath them. It was something they shared, laying their strengths out under their skin to hide the damage done by someone they’d once loved. Bare-chested, Rey was powerful in repose, sculpted with muscle over his broad frame, a sparse scruff of hair around his belly button, then feathering down below to disappear beneath his waistband. There were peeks of scars along his hips and ribs, mottled landscapes and ridges scored into Rey’s skin from that horrific-wonderful night when they’d all first met.
A pouf of a tiger’s tail poked up above his hip bone, a hint of orange, brown, and black fur coyly flirting with Gus’s eye when Rey shifted, and on the other side, the ridges of a dragon’s tail were stark ebony lines on Rey’s golden skin, Ivo’s distinct hand clearly identifiable even with a sliver of a glimpse. There were other tattoos on his lover’s body, from Ichiro’s fiery cherry blossoms and beta fish swimming across Rey’s lower back and up toward his ribs to the painstakingly accurate rendition of his sister’s kindergarten artwork she’d drawn of her big brother in his fireman’s gear rescuing a cat from a tree, a vivid chaotic scribble on his side near his heart.
He’d tasted every inch of Rey’s body, knew its textures and how it gave and plumped when bitten, scratched, or kneaded, but he’d never inked it.
“I need to tattoo you,” Gus finally murmured, tracing Rey’s cock through his pants. “You don’t have any of my art on you. Every-fucking-body else, but not me. I think that pisses me off.”
“My back’s all yours. I’ve seen that stonework stuff you do, the black and gray—those marble statues you’ve done—I really like those. I need a Saint Florian, but I want something different, like a carving.” Rey lowered himself down carefully, resting his weight on his hands and knees. He stole the light from around Gus’s face, throwing them both into shadows. Teasing a kiss from Gus’s mouth, he groaned when Gus slid a hand up along Rey’s thigh, toying with the rigid shaft straining against the cotton fabric. “Jesus, do you want to make me come in my pants? Stop that.”
“Back piece is a long commitment.” He wasn’t talking about the ink. Not really. There was something more subtle in his words, something elusive Gus couldn’t—wouldn’t—dare to talk about between them. He wanted to ask out loud, demand more than a maybe and a let’s-see-where-this-goes. The ground under his feet was unsteady and had been for as long as he could remember. “If I start something that big, that intense, I’m going to need to know you’ll be there with me until it’s over.”
In the receding darkness, it was difficult to see the color of Rey’s eyes, but they burned, lit with a fervor Gus wasn’t sure he was strong enough to ever quench, but it was a precursor of the firestorm Rey unleashed next. Lowering himself onto Gus’s body, Rey pressed him into the mattress and murmured against Gus’s parted lips, “Baby, I don’t intend for it to ever to be over.”
Rey stripped him slowly, quietly pressing Gus’s arms back down onto the bed when he reached for Rey’s pants. Outside of Rey’s open louvered windows, Chinatown began to stir. A delivery truck’s heavy tires clattered across the alley’s cobblestone surface, its driver singing along in Cantonese to a bubbly pop jingle playing from his stereo. The sun poked and prodded at the sky, turning the room milky with its early morning attempts to burn away the night. Its glow gilded Rey’s hard body, curving deep sienna shadows into the recesses along his brawny torso. Lowering his head, Rey pressed his mouth to Gus’s throat and sank his teeth lightly into his skin.
“God, you make me crazy,” Rey murmured around the nip of flesh. “I cannot wait to be inside of you again.”
Worrying at the spot, he sent a shivering rain of prickling tingles up into Gus’s jaw and down his chest, then chased the wave to its end with a pinch to Gus’s nipple. Shock tremors worked their way through Gus’s body, grabbing at his cock and balls with a firm grip. Rey knew every inch of him, but the years changed them, and his fingers—his damned hands and that mouth—discovered places on Gus’s stomach and hips he hadn’t realized were sensitive.
Rey’s lips moved slowly, and Gus writhed beneath the press of Rey’s shoulder against his hip. A few not-so-gentle strokes of Rey’s fingers against his dick were followed by a long pass of Rey’s lips, wetting the material so much it raked Gus’s tender skin when Rey worked the sweats down to his knees. Velvet heat wrapped over Gus’s cockhead, a dip of tongue. Then a slide of Rey’s open mouth over the length of Gus’s shaft nearly broke him. He couldn’t think straight, not while Rey tickled and teased at him, circling over the ridge of Gus’s dick, then enveloping its head in a long suckle. The pressure, a sweet-bitter sensation, grew too much to bear, and Gus nearly pulled away, teetering on being overwhelmed by the staggering pleasures.
Then Rey—sneaky, erotic Rey—dipped the tip of his fingers into the edge of Gus’s hole and tipped his head, swallowing Gus nearly down to the root of his cock.
“Shit.” He grabbed at Rey’s thick hair, a handful of brown silk scented with the stupid cheap green apple shampoo Rey refused to stop using. “Fuck.”
If the teasing had been too much to bear, feeling Rey swallow around him shattered his mind. Gus lost time in the rolls of surging pleasures consuming him. The sun continued to rise, but nothing existed but the bed they lay on. Even as the shadows moved across the walls and the city woke around them, filling the room with the bustle of a busy Chinatown morning, only one speck in the vast universe mattered—Rey.
He couldn’t reach enough of his lover’s pants to yank them off, but Gus’s fingers found the hard ridge of Rey’s cock, playing with the tip poking out of his waistband. A tug got them down one of Rey’s hips; then another yank freed the heavy length of Rey’s dick from its precum-dappled prison. There were bruises still on Rey’s leg, remnants of being on the job, but they were nearly lost in the vivid dancing tiger Bear put under Rey’s skin years before.
“I am so fucking inking you,” Gus snarled. “And when I’m done with it, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for five days.”
“I like that you’re jealous.” Rey’d pulled off, chuckling and gasping for breath. Another dip of his fingers burned into the tightness of Gus’s hole, but the prodding felt good, edging a promise of a longer, harder ride. “And I think you’re ready for me.”
The sudden brush of air on his cock was cold, but it was a hell of a lot warmer than the lube drizzled over Rey’s now-probing fingers. Gus’s alarmed hiss brought a smirk to Rey’s kiss-swollen mouth, and Gus flicked his fingers over Rey’s cockhead in retaliation.
“Yeah, you dance back,” Gus grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows as Rey got up on his knees to work his pants off the rest of the way. “Just remember, what goes around, comes around.”
“Oh, the things I could say to you about that.” Rey’s grin got wider, and the lube warmed, picking up some of the heat of Rey’s fingers.
The snap of latex of Rey adjusted a condom over his cock oddly aroused Gus, his stomach jumping with anticipation. His body remembered the feel of Rey’s cock pushing into him, the delicious ache of his entrance being pulled open, then the torturous slide of flesh into his. A moment later the shadows were back, cocooning them when Rey leaned over Gus’s body. The kiss he took from Gus’s mouth savaged his breath, and Gus gasped when it finally broke.
Moving carefully between Gus’s parted legs, Rey stroked at the back of Gus’s thighs, tracing circles on his unmarked skin.
“Do you want to turn over?” The question was as gentle as Rey’s kiss hadn’t been, but it left him as breathless. “I know you like that. Our first time since… I want to make it good for you. I want you to remember it… remember me.”
He liked having Rey behind him, cradling him against a bed or a wall. Sex brought his blood up, but Rey’s arms around him, his body wrapped over Gus’s, did something to his insides, soothing the bit of neediness he couldn’t seem to get rid of. Rey knew him… knew he needed to be held in, swaddled and secure.
“Yeah,” he whispered back, cupping Rey’s face. “Please?”
The shift was done quickly, a shuffle of bodies accented by soft kisses and caresses. Gus’s cock ached, pearling fluid at its tip. Rey maneuvered him forward, the headboard digging into Gus’s palms and chest, but the discomfort was welcome. It helped give him some distance, enough breathing room for him to exist in until Rey pushed into him. He knew he was going to drown, and when Rey’s fingers smeared another dollop of sweet-smelling lubricant down the crest of his ass, Gus closed his eyes and waited for his life to change.
A burn hit first, centering him on the push of Rey’s cock into his tight channel. The glide in was rough, a slide-start-pull of flesh and latex, softened by the kiss of oil and patience. Rey was thick, more than a handful long and definitely hard enough to humble Gus’s entrance into submission, but he moved slowly, rocking Gus against him. There were words, indistinct mumbles of pleasure and whispering moans. Gus hitched a sound into his throat when Rey stretched him open, and he slid his knees farther apart, canting his ass up to take Rey in.
“I got you, babe,” Rey whispered, his breath hot on Gus’s neck. He found Gus’s dick, his fingers still damp with lube, and cupped him, holding him tight. “Grab on. I’m going to make you feel good.”
He saw stars when Rey seated himself, suddenly hyperaware of the textures and sensations on and in his body. The brush of Rey’s belly on the rise of his ass was soon joined by the press of his hand, his fingertips dimpling Gus’s skin. His lungs were tight, the air stolen from them when Gus exhaled and then forgot to breathe again.
Then his lover began to move and Gus let himself fly.
Rey caught him, his arms coming up and his hands closing over Gus’s. His thrusts were slow, long-drawn-out dips and dives with enough friction to make Gus wonder if he would catch on fire before he lost control. There were sparks, tightly wound clusters of stars and heat buried deep inside of him, and Rey seemed to find them with every stroke.
Gus stretched up, leaning into the curve of Rey’s body, forcing him nearly upright. It changed the angle of his movements, trimming some of the edge from his plunges into Gus’s heat. He wanted their joining to last, clenching his ass around Rey’s cock. The air was thin between them, damp with sweat and need. Gus rolled his hips, taking Rey along a curve.
“Shit, I forgot you could do that,” Rey panted, matching Gus’s dip and curl. “You’re going to kill me here.”
The pace picked up, and Gus grabbed at the headboard, holding on while pushing back onto Rey’s cock. A bite on his shoulder blade was hard enough Gus knew he was going to bruise, but the kisses Rey laid on his back were gentle and tender. His fingers stroked at the keloids around Gus’s ankle where he’d been caught by the bridge, a shackle of metal and pain permanently engraved on his skin.
The world was a complicated, sensual canvas he’d wrapped himself in. He felt everything. From the brush of Rey’s fingers across his belly and then down to his cock to the uneven wrinkle of sheets beneath his knees. Angling himself up to meet Rey’s hips, Gus bent his head and closed his eyes, riding the sensations unfolding from inside of his core. Their rhythm grew frantic, a pounding beat pushing them closer and closer to the edge. His balls churned, and Rey’s hand cupped him again, fondling his sac, then squeezing lightly when Gus tightened down. Sweat dampened his hair, plastering strands to his temples and cheeks. His arms were taut, braced to take the intense hard pounding Rey caught them up in.
Two strokes later, the light began to fragment around him, catching Gus on the brink of his release. It started with a light tightening of the skin on his inner thighs, then the clench of his stomach muscles when his sac pulled up, tucking into the hollow of his legs. Panting, he let go, grabbing at Rey’s thigh, and slapped his hand on the wall, grunting when Rey’s forward push lodged him against the headboard. With his face pressed into the stucco and his chest shoved onto the slatted wood, Gus gritted his teeth and let go.
Rey’s hand caught him before his release. Or at least a part of it. Gus couldn’t separate the liquid warmth pouring out of him from the volcanic heat of Rey’s steel-hard cock. The rush of being filled wasn’t there, but the tingling bursts hit him as hard as any time in the past when he’d been with Rey, but something was different. Smoother. Sweeter.
Gentler.
The rush of adrenaline and lust hit Gus hard, peeling back his thoughts and opening him up for the world to pick clean. He couldn’t speak. Or at least not find any words on his tongue to capture how he felt about the man tearing him apart and putting him back together all at the same time. He came hard, filling the cup of Rey’s hand, then felt Rey’s shoulders jerk and his hips go stiff, rigid from losing the rest of his control. His skin hurt, burned from the raining fire they’d pulled down on top of them, and his chest throbbed from an indent across his pecs. Gus wasn’t sure if his legs would hold him up much longer, but Rey wasn’t quite done.
“Just a little bit more, baby,” he murmured into Gus’s ear. “I don’t want to let you go just yet.”
Rey rocked into him, carrying Gus the rest of the way, shivering around the oversensitive ripples. Boneless and satiated, Gus slid down across the bed, taking Rey with him. Sticky and replete, weariness tugged at Gus’s eyelids, and he shivered, his shoulder blades tightening up around his spine.
“Stay here. I’m going to get this off.” Rey left Gus with a small kiss to the corner of his mouth; then the bed dipped as he left. Padding to the bathroom, he became a darker sliver against the growing light. The water came on, and Gus drifted, then yelped when Rey’s cold fingers rubbed at his belly. Quirking a grin at Gus as he climbed onto the mattress, Rey said, “Don’t fall asleep until you straighten yourself out there, bucko. You’re sideways across the bed.”
“Fucking sleep around me.” He let himself get shoved into place, then sighed when Rey stretched out next to him. They were both slightly sticky and probably could have used another shower, but Gus wasn’t ready to shed Rey’s scent on him. Turning over onto his side, Gus settled into a pillow, tucking others around him until he was comfortable. Blinking to push sleep back a few steps, he murmured appreciatively when Rey slid his leg over Gus’s calf, then said, “Tired. Think I should crash in Mace’s bed, on the couch, or just stay here?”
“Move off this bed and I’ll tie you to it.” Rey snorted, edging closer until their bellies were pressed together. “Besides, Mace is probably already home. His shift was over about half an hour ago. You’re going nowhere.”
“Good.” He gave in to a yawn, then stared into Rey’s strong-featured face when he stroked at the screaming eagle on Gus’s forearm. “That tickles.”
“You amaze me.” Rey rubbed at the scars Gus hid beneath his tattoo, the scored blemishes and burns of his mother’s spite and anger. Tracing the bird’s defiantly screaming beak, Rey asked in a soft voice, “You ever think about how things would have been different? If that day never happened? Like… how your brother would have turned out? Anything?”
“Puck would have turned out just like Mace, and I’d have two self-righteous, know-it-all assholes to deal with. They are exactly alike… or close enough anyway,” he snorted. “It’s why I fight with him all the time. Mace likes to organize and move people around like chess pieces. I don’t do so well with being told what to do, and he doesn’t know what to do if he’s not cracking a whip over someone’s head. Puck was the same way. Like a damned border collie who can’t keep his mind on the job. I mean, I miss him, but bossy. Why?”
“Because sometimes I want to know what you think.” Rey bit at Gus’s lower lip, a gentle sting followed by a sweet, lingering kiss. Sighing when he was done, he stroked at Gus’s drying hair, then his cheek. “I love you, you know. I’m sorry I took so long to see it… too long to understand what it was you meant to me… but I’m glad you’re here. With me. In this bed. And I want to fall asleep, but if I do, I won’t see you again until I wake up, and that’s too fucking long to wait.”
“I love you too.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the rough-soft velvet of Rey’s fingers on his face. “Now if you don’t let me get some sleep, I’m going to—”
Rey’s fingers pressed onto Gus’s mouth, stopping him in midsentence, then returned to stroking his cheek. Leaning in, Rey kissed the plump of Gus’s lower lip, then said, “For once in your life, August Scott, accept how I feel, what I say. Listen to me carefully. I’m not going to spend my life anyplace other than with you, and I love you. With all of my heart. All of my soul and most of my sanity… I love you.”