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Beckett’s face remained closed to his, his chest and torso hovering over Miles’s, but he pulled his hips back and gently thrust forward.
“Mmf,” Miles whimpered, mouth clamped shut.
Beckett pulled back and thrust in again and again, slow and steady, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside Miles that made him shiver with pleasure. The entire time, he kept his eyes intently on Miles’s.
“Kiss me,” Miles demanded, but with the way he was moaning, it probably sounded more like a plea.
Beckett obeyed, his lips soft, his tongue like a caress. Miles brushed his fingers over Beckett’s cheek, held his face, stared at those hazel eyes that had always been so soft, so disarming.
“You’re so beautiful,” Miles whispered.
“Miles,” Beckett said, voice sounding as if it were breaking.
“I love you.” It was quieter than a whisper, quieter than a breath, barely audible. But he knew Beckett heard.
They kissed while Beckett rocked against him, and Miles relished the feeling of it all. Beckett, naked and touching him like this, kissing him like this, his body stretched out over Miles like a protector. The air between them that no one else could touch, that only belonged to them.
When Beckett began thrusting faster, Miles lost all inhibition and spread his legs wider so Beckett could go even deeper, rolling his hips to meet Beckett’s, wanting more, more, more. Beckett’s brow started to shine with perspiration, and his face looked tense, as if he was trying to keep himself together.
“I’m close,” Miles gasped. Needing something to steady him, he grabbed onto Beckett’s shoulders and dug his fingers in. “Fuck, Beckett, I’m…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. Beckett didn’t speak either, only making low, rumbly moans that were the sexiest sound Miles had ever heard. Then, in a raw, almost pained voice, “Miles.”
Miles came, an intense torrent of pleasure washing over him, making his toes curl. He shot ropes of come across his stomach and dug his fingers deep enough into Beckett’s shoulders that he was sure it’d leave marks. Above him, Beckett shoved his cock deep inside him before shuddering, letting out a long moan. Afterwards, he thrust shallowly a few more times before sliding his softening member out, leaving Miles’s ass feeling strangely empty.
Miles’s basked in the afterglow as his heart rate slowed down, eyelids lowered, half aware of Beckett wiping up his stomach and the lube around his tender hole.
They pulled on their pajamas, got under the sleeping bag, and Beckett turned off his phone light. Miles snuggled close to Beckett, and even though they were sticky with sweat, he didn’t care.
“That was amazing,” he murmured, already half-asleep. “Did you like it?”
Beckett’s laugh was soft and breathy, like it was a silly question. “It was perfect.”
Miles pressed his face against the hollow between Beckett’s neck and shoulder and whispered something. And just before he fell asleep, he felt Beckett press his mouth against the top of his head and whisper the same thing.
*
In the morning, they woke up slowly. Miles was warm, with Beckett’s body spooning him and the softness of the sleeping bag over them.
Beckett took longer to wake up. Miles wondered whether he was more tired—he’d done all the work last night, while Miles pretty much just lay there.
The memory warmed his cheeks, but not with embarrassment. Beckett, who for so long seemed aloof and untouchable, loved him. Miles. And Miles loved Beckett.
He snuggled against Beckett’s chest, and Beckett’s lashes fluttered. “Good morning,” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.
“Morning,” Miles replied. He leaned over Beckett, and they kissed lazily, Beckett making a rumbly happy noise.
They took their time dressing and making breakfast. They walked to the bathrooms holding hands, and when they brushed their teeth, they watched each other in the reflection of the mirror.
It took them half an hour to pack everything up and return the campsite to a patch of green lawn.
Miles offered to drive since Beckett drove them down, and Beckett agreed. They got into the car, and Miles adjusted his seat and the mirrors. Beckett gave him directions, and they crawled through the tangle of dirt roads. Soon, they were on the bitumen highway, speeding past jade green mountains.
“It’s kinda sad that we’re leaving,” Miles said once they were on the highway.
“We’ll come back,” Beckett said. He was resting his arm on the car door, staring out at the passing landscape.
“Oh, will we?”
