Page 46 of Tumbling Hearts

Ray kisses him again. He thrusts his hips, grinding against Gene, groping his pecs and trying to nudge his shirt off his shoulders. Gene tries to do the same, pulling Ray’s shirt up even more. But it’s a bit hard to take anything off when they’re connected like this. As much as he wants to keep touching Ray, something has to come off.

It seems like Ray takes the hint, backing up a little to move his hands downward, forgetting about Gene’s shirt and leaving it on him, fingertips grazing over Gene’s abdomen to instead focus on his belt. He undoes the buckle easily, letting it hang and he quickly unzips Gene’s fly. In one swift movement, he pulls out Gene’s cock—hard and aching, the freedom from his tight pants ever so relieving. He thrusts into Ray’s hand, chasing the friction.

“My, my, you’re eager,” Ray teases.

“Of course I am,” Gene says, hands still rubbing Ray’s waist. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you like this again.”

“I think I do know, darling. I can feel your desire right here.”

Ray strokes Gene’s cock, up and down, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. That’s a new one—darling. He could get used to that.

Gene tries to reach for Ray’s own belt, but his hand gets shooed away. “I got this,” Ray says, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly, letting his cock spring free when he shoves his pants down his legs.

In no time at all, Ray is flush against Gene again, cocks lined up, Ray’s hand stroking them both together. Now that’s the sort of friction Gene adores. While he wouldn’t mind continuing on like this, taking their time, he craves the feeling Ray promised him. Who knows how much longer they have in this dressing room before someone starts wondering where they are? How much longer until Carol starts looking for them? There’s no time to waste.

“Fuck me, Ray,” Gene pants into Ray’s mouth. “Fuck me like you said you would.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ray pulls off Gene unexpectedly, the loss of contact giving Gene a chill. But warmth floods him again as Ray steers him toward the counter in front of the mirror, manhandling him, turning him around and pushing just enough to bend him over. Gene’s face presses against the counter, thankfully with enough room to not disturb the piles of make-up and lotions scattered on top of it. With barely a chance to think, Ray pulls Gene’s pants and underwear down further, to his knees. The air on his bare skin gives him goosebumps, exciting him—especially so when Ray grabs his ass in both hands, feeling him up.

“How about like this?” Ray asks, leaning over Gene’s back. It’s there, he can feel it—Ray’s cock sliding back and forth between his ass cheeks. Ray lifts Gene’s shirt up, careful to not let his precum soak it. Gene’s own cock leaks, too, hanging heavy between his thighs. Surely he’s going to make a mess of the floor.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Gene says, turning his head to look behind him, back at Ray. Such a sight is unfamiliar, seeing Ray—or anyone, for that matter—in this way. Gene’s been on the other end, the giver, but never the receiver. But his past experiences don’t matter. He wants Ray to do this to him more than anything right now.

“What a nice coincidence I happened to leave this jar of Vaseline up here on the counter,” Ray says with a chuckle.

Gene looks forward again, seeing his reflection—and watching Ray snatch the jar in question. It’s so perfectly planned; no one would be suspicious of that item amongst the rest of the lotions. “You set this up before the show even started. The wallet, the Vaseline, everything.”

“I had an idea, and it ended up working.” Ray lifts the cap off the jar with an audible pop. “You’re not the only one who can be clever and sneaky.”

“I guess so.”

He likes this dominant side of Ray. Before, it was Gene himself that took risks of getting Ray where he wanted. Now Ray seems to be doing the honors—a perfect complement to Gene’s own desire.

Gene enjoys taking turns, giving up control, then being able to take it back whenever he wants. It’s like songwriting in a way—one person giving more input than the other, carrying it, then working on it together until it becomes one cohesive thing. Gene had written the riff already to their intimacy back when they’d first started. Now he wants Ray to take control, writing the words.

He keeps his head low on the counter as Ray backs up, moving his hands—one grabbing his ass cheek and the other now coated in Vaseline, tenderly rubbing at his hole. Oh, the cool sensation sends another flutter through his abdomen, his cock throbbing.

Ray presses a little harder, sliding one finger in⁠—

There’s a knock at the door.

Ray stills. Gene shudders.

Both of them stay silent.

There’s another knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey Ray? Gene? You guys in here?”

It’s Pat’s voice.

“Uh… yeah! We are,” Ray says loud enough to be heard through the door, not removing his hand from Gene. Meanwhile, Gene’s heart is working overtime, thudding in his chest, feeling the vibrations on the counter underneath him.

Pat tries to open the door—the rattling of the knob scaring Gene half to death—only for her to be stopped by the lock. “Why the hell did you lock the door? Aren’t you just looking for your wallet?”