Page 92 of Just Past Two

“Now, now, take it easy. You’re rushing things again. We have as long as we need.” Sitting as he was, between Silas’s thighs, he had a perfect view of the delicate skin between his legs. He traced one finger lightly behind Silas’s sac, not sure how the man would react to the contact but interested in finding out. When he brushed Silas’s hole, Silas moaned, his cock pulsing once in Matthew’s grip. Matthew kept this gentle, steady pace, not giving Silas enough stimulation to tip him over, just enough to keep him worked up, his other hand dancing featherlight caresses across Silas’s ass.

“You’re not relaxing.” Matthew smiled, knowing there was no way Silas could relax in this situation.

“Fuck you.” Silas sounded strangled, but Matthew laughed, since it meant Silas was getting close to the edge. He only swore during sex. At Matthew’s laugh, Silas frowned, his eyes opening to slits. Despite his frown, he didn’t really look upset. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Matthew tightened his grip a fraction but slowed his strokes, too, starting to focus entirely on the head of Silas’s cock.

“You’re . . . you’re making it hard for me to . . . relax.” Silas breathed out the last word as Matthew twisted the head.

“Oh, so I should stop?” Matthew smiled.

“No, shit, don’t stop.” Silas swore again, his voice needy. Matthew could get used to seeing him like this, just wanting. Plus, the swearing was unexpectedly adorable and even sexier than if he swore all the time. Knowing he was making the straitlaced, uptight Silas distracted enough that he swore? Smoking hot.

Matthew reached over to the lube on the coffee table, finally, and dripped it down onto Silas’s dick. The cold touch caused Silas to jerk and make a little ungh noise, a noise that turned into a moan as soon as Matthew began stroking him again. Long, smooth strokes, enough pressure and consistency to turn Silas into a squirming, moaning mess. He slicked up his own cock as well, the first touch making him groan, but Silas was too far gone to realize it.

They were going to make a mess on his sofa, but he didn’t even care, because this hot, luxurious sex was incredible, and Silas probably wasn’t going to even remember his name in a few minutes, let alone the problems that had brought him here.

“Here. Scoot over.” Matthew lay on his side between Silas and the back of the couch, edging him over. “Face me.”

Silas gasped, the position pushing him nearly off the couch. “Hey, you’re going to shove me off!”

“Better come close.” Matthew pulled Silas in by the hip, lining up their groins, and Silas’s eyelids fluttered again. In this position, Silas couldn’t move very much with his precarious balance on the edge of the couch, whereas Matthew had the back of the couch for his own leverage. He pulled Silas snugly against him with a hand on his hip, feeling the hot press of Silas’s erection against his own, and just stayed put for a moment. Silas squirmed after just a few seconds, wanting more contact, but had to reach out for the back of the couch to steady himself.

“This is ridiculous.” Silas’s laugh sounded breathless. “We should just move to the bed.”

“No, we’re staying here. Nice and slow.” Matthew used his leverage to rock slowly against Silas, rubbing their cocks against each other, holding their bodies tightly together with his hand on the other man’s hip. He tucked one leg between Silas’s, nudging them apart, allowing them to slot more tightly together. Silas groaned and let his head drop to the side, eyes falling closed, mouth opening with his exhale. Matthew understood perfectly. This was good, too good for the trapped confines of their position, the limited movement somehow hotter and more intense for the limitations. He was face-to-face with his partner and leaned in for a kiss. Silas kissed back, his moans swallowed by Matthew’s lips, finally getting a sense of how to move in this position. With one hand gripping the back of the couch over Matthew’s side, he was able to move his hips in response, the slick slide of their cocks together like wordless perfection. Matthew felt himself growing tense and searching for release, his body aching to thrust harder, faster, more, but kept up the steady pace until Silas was rutting against him shamelessly. The sensation was better than he had thought. He broke the kiss to breathe, having to hold off his orgasm only by force of will. Using his hand on Silas’s hip, he forced the other man to slow down.

“Easy,” he murmured against Silas’s lips. “There’s no race. Slow and steady. Let it build.”

Silas met Matthew’s eyes, his own eyes wide and lost and lust-filled and trusting in a way that was open and raw, and the contact was so intimate that Matthew wanted to look away. He felt something in his heart reaching out to comfort and protect. No, he wasn’t ready for that. This was sex, nothing more, not this raw intimacy that could so easily be more. Silas slowed his hips, letting them rock more gently, and Matthew felt the slow, inexorable build, the tightness in his groin indicating that yes, soon. Silas breathed slowly, deeply, his body an undulation against Matthew’s, and they were pressed so tightly together that Matthew could feel the minute shudders in Silas’s muscles as he reached the precipice.

“Oh,” Silas breathed, and almost no sound came out. “I’m . . . oh my god . . .” That was all he said before he was coming hot and wet all over both of them, his body spasming against Matthew in great heaving convulsions. The moment was too much for Matthew, who had been barely holding out, and he only took a few more thrusts in the slippery mess between them before he felt his own body seize up with the pleasure spasms of climax.

When Silas went boneless, his arm dropping down off the back of the couch, he almost fell off the couch entirely, only Matthew’s hand on his hip snaking out to pull him close saved him. Silas started laughing, his eyes soft and warm and not at all wild anymore, and gingerly sat up. “Oh goodness, that was . . . that was something.”

“Yeah.” Matthew still felt that intimacy, the type of intimacy that was frightening for its intensity and suddenness. He laughed with Silas, but his laugh felt like it was hiding something way too big, something he didn’t have a name for that was new and different and frightening. He covered it up by getting a cloth to clean them both. Afterward, when Matthew returned wearing a pair of loose sweatpants, Silas was in a seated position on the couch, his arms hanging over the back. He’d pulled his own underwear back on but nothing else.

“How do you feel?” Matthew asked, taking Silas’s drink glass into the kitchen. “You want another drink? Still want to get drunk?”

Silas tipped his head to the side, clearly considering. “I think I’m better now. A little better. That might change once the hormones wear off.”

“Sex hormones are powerful business.” Yeah, no kidding. That was why he was thinking about how sweet this guy was and how he wanted to cuddle with him on the couch like some kind of bad chick flick. He wasn’t opposed to cuddling, but this felt like emotional cuddling, and that wasn’t something he wanted to do right now. He didn’t have anything against relationships, not really, but this whatever-it-was with Silas felt like it had snuck up on him instead of being something he had actively pursued. Thinking about emotional connection, meaningful relationships, commitment—it all seemed too big to deal with right now.

Silas seemed in no hurry to put his clothes back on, which wasn’t surprising considering how hot it felt in the apartment. “Warm, huh?” Matthew asked. “Want me to turn the air up?”

“No, I’ll get cooler soon. I’m just still worked up.” Silas wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Maybe some water, actually?”

“Sure.” Matthew brought them each a glass of water and sat down next to Silas on the couch. “You feeling any less stressed?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” Silas nodded. “Much more normal than when I arrived.”

“Why surprisingly?”

“I don’t usually find sex relaxing.” Silas licked his lips. “I know you were teasing me about that, but it’s true. I tend to get pretty worked up. And I can’t generally get out of my head. But that . . . that was different. Really different.”

“Good different, or bad different?”

“Good different.” Silas smiled. “Really good different.”