Page 56 of Oddly Fine

“Oops?” Beckett grinned smugly, far too amused to ever be considered innocent.

Hayes growled and spun his boyfriend around, shoving him roughly against the wall, and forcing his feet apart. Beckett chuckled even as he was pressed against the tiles, his hard cock bobbing against the wall. Hayes grabbed the lube and hastily coated himself. The plug was pressing mercilessly on his prostate, making him wild with lust.

“Chill, Navy. You sound desperate,” Beckett said, snickering like a goddamned smartass.

“About time I put your C.U.N.T. ass in its place!” Hayes bit back, shoving Beckett’s legs farther apart to spread his asscheeks. Beckett’s chuckle quickly turned into a gulp of surprise.

Without warning, Hayes pressed the tip of his cock to Beckett’s rim and teased him by inserting just the tip. The man moaned, loving the feeling, right before Hayes roughly breached him, shoving his cock all the way in with one quick buck of his hips.

“Holy fucking shit—” Beckett said, scrambling for purchase as he shuddered against Hayes, his powerful thighs trembling from intense pleasure.

Hayes reached around to grab his cock and began jacking Beckett off, riding him hard, while the vibrating plug continued to drive him mad. Their muffled curses and moans mixed with rhythmic slaps of Hayes’ hips against Beckett’s ass echoed around the bathroom.

“Fuck—” Beckett moaned as he got closer to the edge. “Tabarnack—calice, Hayes! Jesus Christ! H. Fuck—fuck, oui! Right there. More. Oui, oui, oui—”

And then Beckett came like a geyser, painting the shower wall.

Hayes tightened his hold as he exploded, finally surrendering to the overwhelming sensations of the plug rubbing against his prostate.

They collapsed against each other, barely able to remain standing.

“Please stop it,” Hayes muttered against Beckett’s shoulder as the butt plug continued to vibrate, sending his entire nervous system into overdrive.

Beckett reached for the control he’d hidden in the shower caddy. When the buzzing in his ass stopped, Hayes breathed a sigh of relief.

“Can you walk?” Hayes asked because he honestly wasn’t sure he could.

“I—” Beckett chuckled. “Maybe?” he replied as he struggled to catch his breath.

They were both wiped out, so they relaxed against the tile and enjoyed the warm spray of water as they recovered.

Hayes was petting Beckett’s hair—or maybe it was the other way around. It was difficult to tell since they were so tangled up together.

Then Beckett began kissing the side of Hayes’ neck. And maybe Hayes imagined it, but in his post-orgasmic haze, he thought he heard Beckett whisper, “I love you. Thank you. I love you.”

And whether or not that whisper was imagined, Hayes decided he did not care. Not when Beckett was the only person to tell him as much in the past 20 years.

A few hours later, as they were relaxing on the couch, Beckett’s phone rang again. He’d tossed it onto the floor during their counter sex, and left it there. Both turned to look at it. With a resigned sigh, Beckett got up and retrieved it. Checking the caller ID, his expression brightened as he pressed accept.

“Maman!” he greeted her with a pleased smile, pressing the speaker button and walking back to the couch. He returned to his favorite spot on the couch, leaning against Hayes’ chest, with his legs extended on the other half of the couch. He’d been reading a book, enjoying the fireplace, where a nice blaze kept the chill away.

“Salut mon Coeur,” his mother responded in French, speaking so rapidly that Hayes could barely catch what she said. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart! You doing alright? Am I catching you at work?” she asked, since Beckett had, on several occasions, answered his mother’s calls while bullets had been flying.

“Nah—I’m at home, enjoying the holidays and whatnot,” he said, quickly, shooting Hayes a furtive glance. “How’s the cruise?”

“Oh, it’s fantastic! Beats having to shovel the driveway! Hayes with you, honey?” His mother asked, as she had been the past few times she’d called since their trip to Montreal in November.

“Right here,” he acknowledged.

“Hi, Hayes, honey, Merry Christmas!” Beckett’s mother exclaimed jovially.

“Merry Christmas, boys!” Beckett’s father called out to them a few seconds later, no doubt prompted by his wife. Since they’d come out, both of Beckett’s parents had made a concerted effort to include him in their frequent calls.

Hayes wished there was a way to put into words just how much their well wishes meant to him.

“What are you boys doing for Christmas? Have any plans?” she asked.

Hayes opened his mouth to reply but ended up giving a strangled gasp instead as the plug still lodged in his ass abruptly began to vibrate.