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“It’s called Medicine Man Salve.”
Jason’s brows shot up, and Sam said, “I know, but like I said, it works.”
“Do I drink it or rub it in?”
“I rub it in. Roll over.”
Jason scooted over onto his belly. Sam pushed the white cotton T-shirt out of the way and scooped out the liniment. Up close it was even more potent-smelling, and Jason ducked his head into his folded arms.
Sam rubbed his hands together and touched Jason with cool, oily fingers. Jason jumped, forced himself not to tense as Sam kneaded the bunched muscles of his shoulders.
At first, between the fumes of the salve and the strength of Sam’s hands, it was kind of unpleasant, but then Jason began to relax. He sighed wearily and closed his eyes as Sam worked the oily cream into his shoulder blades and down his spine.
“Okay?” Sam murmured.
Jason moved his head in assent.
Sam’s strong fingers poked and prodded all the little knots and kinks as he slowly worked his way down Jason’s back to his hips, the backs of his thighs, his knees. His hands were large, and he had a powerful grip, but his touch was gentle.
“Feels good…”
Sam made a sound of acknowledgment.
He wasn’t doing anything particularly erotic, but the massage was increasingly sensual, and Jason gave a little moan of pleasure.
“Better?”
“God, yes.”
“You want to roll over?”
Was that supposed to be a question? Because of course he wanted to roll over. Of course he wanted more. Blood pulsing in his ears and cock. He’d have to be dead not to want more. He eased onto his side, his cock reaching up to Sam like a wand homing in to a magician’s hand. And there was a kind of magic in the feel of Sam’s hard fingers wrapping around warm, aching flesh.
Sam’s grip was comfortable and comforting, sliding from the base of balls to the tip of prick.
Jason thrust hard into that hold, with a strength he hadn’t thought he possessed five minutes earlier. Sam coaxed and chivvied him along, and one, two…abra-fucking-cadabra…three! He groaned softly, woundedly, spilling hot white seed over Sam’s fingers, his own belly, and the folds of flannel sheets and fluffy cloud duvet.
“That’s the way. All those nice endorphins doing their work.” There was a smile in Sam’s voice.
Jason smiled too, floating and drowsy in the aftermath, his thoughts continuing to wind lazily, slowly tumbling like paint through water.
In the distance he heard a long eerie howl that seemed to float in the air before fading into silence.
He opened his eyes.
“What was that?”
“Wolf.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure.”
Jason laughed. He had reached the point of exhaustion where everything was funny. His own weakness. Sam’s unlikely tenderness. Wolves.
Sam made a quiet sound of amusement, drawing his face toward him and kissing him still. He whispered, “Sleep well, West.”
Jason smiled and closed his eyes.
