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This is a bad idea, Tyler told himself as Holden opened the door and they both stepped inside. You’re stoned. Yeah, and I want to fuck him when I’m sober, don’t I? So what’s the difference? I was always going to do it and he was always going to let me.
Still, though, he lingered in the hall, watching as Holden dug into the bag of groceries and produced a packet of rubbers and a pump-action lube bottle. Then Holden put an arm around his neck and stretched up to kiss him and Tyler was lost. He pulled him close, the kiss turning molten hot as they staggered backwards, heading for the stairs. Tyler grabbed Holden’s ass and lifted him and Holden gasped, holding on tight. “Don’t.”
Tyler ignored him, planting his real foot on the first step. This would be a test. Had he lost all his strength being so inactive for so long? Had half his strength been in that missing half a leg? He didn’t work out like he used to do and he wasn’t that prime military specimen he had once been. He almost expected his prosthesis to crack as he placed his weight on it. It felt fine. Tyler felt fine. Holden wasn’t heavy. Tyler had carried men with a hundred pounds of equipment on their back, and his own, before now.
Holden hung on as Tyler ascended, eyes wide. “Stop. Put me down.”
“Not going to happen.” Tyler kissed him.
Holden groaned. “No one ever carried me to bed before.”
“Especially a man with one leg?”
“Right.”
“You don’t know how lucky you are. I didn’t carry guys to bed even when I had two legs.”
“Are you hurting?”
“No.”
“But still.”
“Shut up. Which door?”
“Here.”
Tyler barreled into the bedroom and lowered Holden as gently as he could to the bed. It was a plain room, painted white like the rest of the house and bare of furniture save for an old fashioned closet and a nightstand. He bent to unlace his shoes and pulled them off. Holden kicked his own off and yanked his shirt over his head. Tyler climbed onto the bed, astride his hips. He ran his hands down Holden’s lean torso. He was pale and nearly hairless apart from a narrow treasure trail leading beyond his pants.
Holden was breathing hard as though he were the one who had carried Tyler up the stairs. He started to unfasten Tyler’s buttons, sliding the shirt from his shoulders before he sat up, mouth against one nipple, sucking, licking. Tyler caught his breath. Holden moved to the other nipple and tormented the first with little pinches and rubs with his thumb. It was good. Holden’s hands slid up his back, nails digging in while he sucked. Tyler reached down to unfasten Holden’s belt, keen to get to grips with his cock again. He shifted back to drag Holden’s pants off, together with his underwear and socks, leaving him naked.
Holden lay back against the dark bed covers, shifting under Tyler’s scrutiny, looking awkward. Tyler couldn’t work out why because he was in great shape, his body without an inch of spare fat, lean and toned and just made for fucking.
Tyler smiled. He unfastened his shorts and pushed them and his briefs down.
“Are you taking your leg off?”
Tyler froze. He didn’t need the reminder that he was about to fuck his first man since losing his leg. Not that it should have made a difference, but of course it did. “I hadn’t planned on it,” he said, although he’d actually not thought that far ahead. But now he did, he guessed unclicking the prosthesis and rolling off the liner might spoil the mood. He could keep the liner on so Holden didn’t have to look at his stump but then he guessed he might stick Holden with the pin in the heat of passion, which wouldn’t be so good. He crouched a moment, looking down at the false foot with the sock still on it.
“Sorry,” Holden said, running a hand up Tyler’s thigh. “I don’t mind. Don’t think that I care. I really don’t.”
Tyler wasn’t sure he believed him, but Holden had wrapped his fingers around his cock and was jerking in slow, smooth movements. He moaned, bucking into Holden’s touch. He could do this. Just leave his prosthesis on, with his pants pulled down like this and fuck Holden for all he was worth. He was confident he could still do that, but wished Holden hadn’t felt the need to mention it at all though. He wished his lover could have pretended Tyler still had two legs. Tyler leaned down and kissed Holden and Holden pulled him down into a deep kiss. They rolled across the bed and Holden ended up on top, straddling him, sitting up so Tyler could touch every part of his delicious body. Holden leaned over to the condom packet, unwrapping it and taking out a rubber that he placed on the bed beside him. Then he twisted open the lube bottle and looked at Tyler, waiting.
Tyler held his hand out. Holden squirted lube onto the two fingers he presented and dropped the bottle back to the bed. He leaned down to kiss Tyler, ass pushed up into the air, his buttocks spread and his hole perfectly accessible. Tyler reached around him and found the puckered entrance, smearing the lube before starting to work him open with one finger.
Holden gasped, sucking on Tyler’s tongue, squirming as Tyler eased inside. He started to buck and moan when Tyler added a second, his fingers sliding into wet heat, and found his prostate. His cock hardened to steel as Holden felt between them to grip it, riding Tyler’s fingers with sensual movements of his ass.
“Fuck,” Tyler said, desperation getting the better of him. He wanted more foreplay. What was the rush after all? He wanted to touch and suck and lick, but he couldn’t wait. He had to be inside Holden right now or he was going to explode between their bellies like a teenager. He grabbed the condom and tore it open with his teeth. Taking his fingers from Holden’s ass, he rolled it on, even the touch of his hands making him want to cream himself.
Holden panted with excitement when Tyler threw him onto his back. He stared up as Tyler eased between his hips. Maybe he was shocked a guy wanted to look into his face while he fucked him. Tyler liked it from behind as much as the next guy, but he had no need to do Holden that way.
He lubed up the rubber and added more to Holden for good measure. Then he grasped his cock and steered himself home. Holden arched, thighs gripping to Tyler’s back as he penetrated him. “Holy fuck,” he ground out.
Tyler kissed the sentiment off his lips. He eased every inch inside and started to move, slow and steady. Holden seemed to appreciate it if the writhing and cursing were anything to go by. He was tight and hot and so fucking good, the ride slick and smooth. Tyler kissed his throat, building his pace and knowing he wasn’t going to last. Holden dug his nails into his back and his ass. He hissed as Tyler reached between them to jerk him off.
“Please,” he said, urging Tyler on with his hands on his ass and the bucking of his pelvis. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” Hadn’t Tyler told him he didn’t need the dirty talk? “Harder,” Holden said and Tyler knew he’d said this before, to dozens of faceless men who’d taken advantage of Holden’s addiction to leave him feeling more humiliated than ever.
He looked down at his partner, slowing his movements. “Stop talking,” he said. “Stop thinking and enjoy it. I won’t do it harder because I don’t want to hurt you. Now relax and let me see you come.”
