Page 23 of Oddly Fine

It was virtually impossible to track and quantify time and space whenever Beckett was working his magic on him. Hayes always lost himself to those soft, persuasive lips and that deliciously rough beard that rubbed against his freshly shaven face. He buried his fingers in Beckett’s hair and pulled, loving the sensation as his boyfriend moaned with pained delight. It wasn’t enough—never enough—but as Beckett pulled away, gaze sparkling and clearly proud of himself, Hayes saw stars, even while seeking some modicum of control before he surrendered completely to Beckett’s will.

“Fuck, we’re good at that,” the sexy idiot said, and God was he ever right.

Hayes tugged at the crotch of his pants and had to adjust his dick as he looked around the crypt for any possible threats.

“This really a blind spot?” Beckett asked, voice thick with arousal.

“Yes, I checked it myself,” he assured Beckett. The crypt was long and dark, with lots of odd angles that made setting up cameras difficult. He’d opted for placing the camera so it covered most of the space, while ensuring that about ten square feet along the back wall was out of range when choosing a spot for their sleeping bags.

“Fucking hope so—otherwise Cho’s about to get a hell of a show,” Beckett said, licking his lips before diving back in for another round of tonsil hockey.

Hayes intended to launch a protest. He really had. But before he could, Beckett’s lips were on his again and then Beckett straddled him. His thoughts scattered as soon as Beckett’s crotch made direct contact with his. Beckett grabbed the back of his head and roughly forced their mouths together. They kissed messily, without their usual tenderness or gradual buildup. It was reminiscent of their first time, and Hayes loved it just that much more for generating that spark of familiarity deep in his gut.

When Beckett finally backed off, it was only long enough to allow him to get to work at Hayes’ crotch, one hand unbuttoning the waistband of his cargo pants while the other yanked down the zipper to free his aching cock.

“Jesus Christ!” Hayes cried out sharply when his hot dick was exposed to cold air.

Beckett cracked up laughing.

“Really? Taking the Lord’s name in vain? In a crypt full of priests?” Beckett chided mockingly.

Hayes groaned, closing his eyes from the intense pleasure of having Beckett’s hand squeezing his shaft just right.

“Eyes on the room, Nancy—wouldn’t want to get shot with your pants down,” Beckett commanded roughly, as he leaned down and gave Hayes’ dick an experimental lick.

“Suck my dick, C.U.N.T.!” Hayes’ sudden crudeness was unlike him but had the intended effect as Beckett immediately wrapped his extraordinarily talented mouth around Hayes’ cockhead.

Keeping his hand wrapped around the base of Hayes’ dick, he began working his way from tip to base. He kept it wet and sloppy, knowing that technique always drove Hayes out of his mind. Beckett hummed as Hayes began to rock his hips in a silent demand for more. Beckett’s gaze tangled with Hayes’ and he nodded at Hayes encouragingly as he increased his suction. When Hayes didn’t react, Beckett reached for his hand and placed it firmly on the back of his head. Beckett might as well have shouted Fuck my mouth!

Hayes got the message and sank his fingers into Beckett’s hair, pulling hard as he began chasing his orgasm. With a sudden upward thrust of his hips, he forced Beckett to swallow around his cock, on the verge of cumming as Beckett struggled to breathe. When Hayes finally loosened his grip and pulled back, Beckett let the head pop free and smiled with pleasure. That look was so goddamned hot. Hayes moaned and tugged restlessly at Beckett’s hair. He forced his attention back to monitoring the crypt, watching for any surprise—and very unwelcome—visitors. But it was damned near impossible to pay attention to anything other than the warmth and pressure on his dick. Sensing that Hayes was on the edge, Beckett doubled down, gagging himself on every down stroke and squeezing Hayes’ shaft firmly on every up stroke.

“Fuck—” Hayes groaned. “I’m gonna—” His warning was in vain as Beckett swallowed the entire length of Hayes’ cock just as he blew his load. The first time they’d done this, Beckett hadn’t been able to swallow all of it—but now, not a single drop escaped as he pulled off Hayes’ softening cock. Grinning smugly, he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“You should wear cargo pants more often—” he said, as Hayes fought to catch his breath. “Easy access,” he explained with a quick wink.

“You’re an absolute menace,” Hayes responded.

“And damned proud of it!”

Hayes tangled his fingers in Beckett’s hair once more and pulled him up so he could give him a well-deserved kiss. Hayes wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about tasting himself on Beckett’s tongue, but his partner quickly wiped that thought from his mind as he sucked Hayes’ tongue like it was a lollipop.

Hayes pulled back from their kiss to ask, “What about you?” He reached for Beckett’s zipper, wanting to return the favour.

“Are you nuts? I’m not getting caught with my pants down!” Beckett grabbed his hand with a tsk of disapproval.

“What?” Hayes couldn’t have been more surprised.

“Listen—maybe peekaboo shooters don’t mind getting caught with their asses up in the air and pants down around their ankles, but we C.U.N.T.’s don’t fuck around on the job,” he declared self-righteously, like he wasn’t the same asshole who’d once suggested they should get busy in a jail cell with his best friend sitting just a few feet away.

Hayes was so shocked by that reaction that he looked at Beckett blankly and asked, “Peekaboo shooter?”

Beckett gave an enthusiastic nod as stood up and looked down at Hayes sprawled wantonly across his sleeping bag.

“Just came up with that—clever, right? ‘Cuz of the way you guys hide in your little holes for hours just to take a few shots,” Beckett explained as he walked backwards in the direction of the crypt’s entrance.

Hayes hadn’t the faintest clue where Beckett was going.

“Smartass—go ahead and make fun of the guy who watches your six!” Hayes snapped, wondering what in blue blazes his partner was up to. “Where are you going? You know we’re supposed to—”