Page 77 of Hittin' the Right Note
“Slow, slow, slow,” he whispered–panted, really–and Luke did as he asked, grinning down at him.
“Do I feel good, baby?” he asked. He twitched his hips just a little, causing Mikey to gasp.
He leaned forward and nipped Luke’s neck in return, biting him in just the way to get him excited. A moan slipped out of his mouth, so deep and rich and throaty it pushed Mikey right to the edge again. With an effort he pulled himself back. It all felt too good, and he didn’t want to waste it, didn’t want to cum until they were both ready for the release that could only come from each other.
Then their bodies just took over, both of them reduced to nothing but raw, naked need, neither of them quite able to get enough of the other. In all the ways that mattered they were one, their bodies connecting in a deep, primal way Mikey had never experienced with another person. Luke felt so goddamngoodinside, and the fact he was willing to open himself up to Mikey–no, that they were able and willing to open up to each other–was the most precious gift Mikey could imagine.
“Luke,” he panted, when the pressure and the pleasure were getting to be too much, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to last…much…longer.”
Luke put his hands on either side of Mikey’s face and tilted his head up, bringing his lips down. They crashed together, all frantic movement, the tang of teeth clashing against one another again and again.
Luke didn’t have to say anything. In fact, neither of them had to say anything. Their bodies did the talking for them and, as Mikey’s orgasm began to crest inside of him, he moaned into Luke’s mouth, just as Luke shot his load all over him. He groaned as he came, losing all thought.
It took them both a few minutes to come down from the high, and when they did they both just stayed where they were, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another.
I wish we could stay like this forever,Mikey thought.
He gently kissed Luke’s collarbone, and he shivered.
“I hate to admit it,” he said, voice right next to Mikey’s ear, “but you really seem to know how to play me like a fiddle.”
Mikey laughed deep in his throat and kissed the same spot again, eliciting another shiver.
“Is that so? And how do you feel about that, Luke Carter?”
“I don’t hate it,” Luke said, leaning back so he could look in Mikey’s eyes. “You really are a unicorn: the perfect vers.”
Mikey flushed. He cherished the compliment.
They lay there for a few more minutes, but they finally separated.
“I hate to be a bummer again,” Luke said, “but we should get some more work done. These songs aren’t going to finish writing themselves.”
Mikey sighed. He did hate to admit it, but Luke was absolutely right. Duty called.
And so, having both admitted they couldn’t just lay in one another’s arms all day–as much as they’d both like to do so–they both got showers (separate, because they knew they’d end up getting distracted if they took a shower together) and settled in to write again.
Maybe it was the sex, or maybe it was the fact they’d both started to appreciate what the other brought to the table creatively. Or maybe it was just the fact nothing motivated like a deadline. For whatever reason, they both found the lyrics and the notes and the orchestration really started to flow out of them. One of them would propose an idea or a theme or a line, and the other would pick it up and run with it.
The afternoon ticked by, and before long the sun was starting to set. They weren’t done yet, not by a long shot, but they did have the beginnings of a pretty decent set list, and their original songs were coming along better than either of them could’ve imagined when the week began. Luke’s entire living room was filled with sheets of paper, all of them filled up with lines and notes and words. It looked exactly like you’d expect a room to look after a couple of songwriters were done with it, and it made Mikey really, really happy.
Finally, though, they had to admit it was time to call it quits. There was only so much creative stuff they were both going to be able to do during a given day, and they both knew when they’d reached their limit.
“Okay,” Luke said, clapping his hands. “Since you’re back in West Virginia, there’s something I absolutely have to do for you.”
Mikey thought he knew where this was going, and his mouth started to water right away.
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to bake you a batch of pepperoni rolls.”
Of all the foods Mikey missed from the Mountain State, pepperoni rolls were right at the top of the list. He’d tried to get some pepperoni rolls in other places, but for whatever reason none of them were ever able to come anywhere close to those made here in West Virginia. It was an enduring mystery but, for now, the important thing was Luke Carter was going to make him some.
“But wait a minute,” he said, as a sudden realization hit him. “Don’t they usually take several hours to make? Doesn’t the bread have time to rise?”
Luke just gave him a level look. “Mikey Smiles. Do you really think I don’t know how to make pepperoni rolls? Also two things. One, it’s not really that late. And two, I know a little shortcut to make sure they rise faster than usual.”
And then he was back in the kitchen, and Mikey had no choice but to accompany him.
