Page 52 of Deathless
I worked my tongue against the underside and sucked him deeper. A ragged sound punched out of him, his head dropping back against the pillow. The taste spread across my tongue, and the need in my chest shifted from grounding to wanting. My hips pressed down against the mattress before I could stop them, and the friction jolted through me, sharp and good and greedy.
"Get back up here." His voice scraped. "I want your skin on mine when we come."
I pulled off slowly, dragging my tongue along the underside as I went. The sound he made was going to live behind my eyelids for a month.
I climbed back up his body. He grabbed my hips and pulled me down, and the slide of our cocks together was easy now, slick with pre-cum and spit. I pressed my mouth to his throat. He smelled like cheap soap, sweat, smoke from every cigarette he'd shared with me in the mountains.
My mouth found the place where his neck met his shoulder. I breathed in, and my hips started moving on their own.
"There you are," Diego said. He wrapped his hand around us both again and stroked, slow, matching the roll of my hips. "Stay with me this time."
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" His thumb swept over the heads of our cocks on the upstroke, and my whole body jerked. "Good."
"You're very bossy for someone who was unconscious twenty minutes ago," I said into his neck.
He laughed under me. "Shut up and fuck my hand, guapo."
I grabbed his hip hard enough to bruise. He made a pleased sound and thrust up into his fist, his cock sliding against mine. The friction was right this time, building instead of flooding. He worked us with a rhythm that matched my breathing. Every inch of him tracked against me, every callous on his palm.
"Jasper." He bucked harder. "Tell me."
"Close," I managed.
"Then let go." He stroked faster. "I want to feel it."
His breath caught, and his rhythm broke. His whole body went tight beneath me. The wet heat of him coming between us sent me over. I came hard, adding to the mess, shuddering against him while he kept working us both through it.
We lay there breathing hard, stuck together. Diego still held us loosely, our cocks softening, his heartbeat hammering against my chest.
I hadn't been this safe in years.
"We need to clean up," he said, but his arms locked tighter around me.
"Yeah."
A sound rumbled through his chest, low and easy, and I could feel it in my ribs. "Bathroom's down the hall."
Neither of us moved. His breathing slowed against my temple, and the bare lightbulb hummed above us, and the stone walls held the warmth in. We were both alive and both here, and mythoughts drifted slow and heavy, in no particular hurry to get anywhere.
Eventually, I pushed myself up. Diego made a small sound of protest. I climbed off carefully, pulled on my jeans, and padded into the hallway, because walking around naked and covered in cum seemed like a bad first impression. The communal bathroom was empty, thank fuck.
I ran warm water over a washcloth, then wrung out a second one. The mirror over the sink showed a man with color in his face for the first time in weeks.
When I got back, Diego had shifted onto his side, eyes already half-closed. I sat on the edge of the cot and ran the cloth over his skin. He smiled at the warmth. When I got to his wrists, my hands stopped.
The zip ties had cut deep, leaving angry red welts where he'd pulled hard enough to break the skin. My thumb traced the worst of it, and something behind my ribs clenched down hard. They'd done this to both of us, hooded and stripped and searched us like threats instead of allies.
Diego opened his eyes and looked at where my thumb rested on his wrist.
"It's nothing," he said.
I brought his wrist to my mouth and pressed my lips to the raw skin. He sucked in a breath. I held there for a second, then set his hand down and finished with the cloth.
He caught my wrist and pulled me down for a kiss, slow and lazy, tasting like contentment.
"Thank you," he said against my mouth.
