Gunpowder (Gunpowder #1)

11. GRANDEUR

11

GRANDEUR

For the first time since he met Incindious, Blair was plunged into a world of the unfamiliar. The lobby of the hotel was beautiful but it was nothing compared to what awaited them on the thirty-fifth floor. He didn’t realize he had stopped in his tracks to stare until Wren urged him forward with a hand on his lower back. Taking in his surroundings still came second to walking, so he let his feet carry him on autopilot as he followed Wren to the hostess.

“Reservation for Garrett,” Wren said.

Blair was jarred out of his culture shock for a minute. “Doc’s coming, too?”

“No,” Wren said as the hostess led them to a table. “I hate phone calls so he called and made the reservations but he forgot to put it under my name.”

“Oh.”

The restaurant was made up of glass, fuchsia, and frosted metal. The palette had a modern sort of elegance to it. His breath caught in his throat as they were led to a table against a wall of windows. The pinks of sunset were softening to a violet dusk over the city. He could see the city. He was distantly aware of Wren making drink orders for both of them because he was dumbstruck by the thousands of lights twinkling outside the window.

“This place is amazing,” Blair said.

Wren didn’t seem to share his wonder, but he still pointed and said, “Look up.”

Blair did, and his mouth fell open. Metal branches spanned the ceiling, twisting and curving in such a way that he could believe they led back to a great tree, barren of leaves for the winter. He finally dropped his gaze back down to Wren, only to find himself held just as captive by that view as the one outside the glass. His hair was so black it almost looked blue in the restaurant’s lighting.

Blair’s world existed on the edge of a blade, in the gleam of gunmetal and fresh blood. Wren’s was blinding, all shining light and tailor-made suits, too clean for Blair’s stained hands to touch and yet sitting so tortuously within his reach. He knew he didn’t belong there but it was easy to forget, with the sunset reflected on Wren’s glasses.

“What’s that look for?”

Blair jolted. “Huh? What look?”

Wren had his head resting on one of his hands, his chin sitting atop his gloved fingers, and his eyebrow raised in amusement at Blair’s response. “The ‘internalized existential crisis’ look.”

“I wasn’t having a crisis,” Blair mumbled. He definitely was.

He was saved by the waitress appearing with two glasses of white wine. She took their orders, and Blair hadn’t even looked at the menu so he ordered the first thing that sounded vaguely like an entree and hoped for the best.

Once the waitress was gone, Wren bit his gloves off and laid them on top of each other on the edge of the table. Heat crept over Blair’s face while watching what should have been a mundane action that had his heart skipping beats.

Wren took a sip of wine, then grimaced. “That’s terrible.”

“Then why did you order it?” Blair asked, laughing at the disdain on his face.

“I don’t know. Isn’t wine a thing on dates?”

Blair laughed even harder. “You live in Manhattan and have all this money, how have you never tried wine? Do you not go anywhere? Ever?”

“No,” Wren said, looking as though he couldn’t even fathom such a thing. “My apartment has my computer. And my books. Why would I leave?”

“No wonder you have the conversation skills of a live cactus.” Blair took a drink of wine and his grin fell immediately. “Oh, god.”

“Told you.”

Blair flipped him off and Wren smirked.

“How has your rotation with pediatrics been?” Blair asked.

“Loud and bright. The kids scream and I’m tired of wearing Scooby Doo.”

Blair chuckled at the outright misery in his voice. “Better switch back to the Invader Zim ones you had when I brought Tristan in.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” Wren asked, his tone giving no indication as to whether or not he was going to tease Blair for his answer.

He remembered everything about that night. He remembered the moment he realized the hot guy in cartoon scrubs was the blurry figure from after he was shot. He remembered Wren’s scorn at being called Sunshine and the way Tristan had seen through his bullshit long before Blair did, recognized the slightly less awful person that hid under the pissy exterior. Now, sitting across from him at dinner, with the two of them together in their own messy way, he said couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. I remember.”

“How are your sewer rats?”

“Huh?” Blair asked, a word he was becoming all too familiar with that night, before he remembered the comparison he made at Wren’s apartment. “Oh, Phantom. We finally drew some of them out yesterday. Low level guys. We’re hoping they pass it along to the boss and Isaac finally comes to face us. Phantom is based out of the internet, so picking off their members one by one won’t matter. There’ll just be more where that came from.”

Wren snorted. “Please tell me how a gang is based out of the internet. Please find a way to make that make sense.”

“They have an app. Most of the members have never even met Isaac, they get their orders virtually. Some people think he does it that way because he’s young and just kind of a geek about technology, but I think it’s a safety thing. Spencer told me Phantom died out years ago. Back then they were your average gang, until they got worn down in a territory war and disbanded,” Blair explained, leaning forward in his seat. He’d never gotten to talk to anyone outside of Incindious about any of this. “Then Isaac shows up out of the blue, tracks down some of the old members. One of them was the guy that shot me. They have an assassin with them, too, and we think that’s how Phantom got their territory back so fast.”

Wren stared at him blankly. “And you and your band of merry men are going to fight these people.”

“Well, yeah. They shot me and they hurt Adam.”

Wren slid his fingers under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “I might as well just reserve you a bed in the hospital.”

“We’ll be fine! This is what we do,” Blair said, grinning. He didn’t always have the most faith in himself but he did have faith in Incindious.

“And I have no idea how you’ve all lived this long.”

The waitress brought their food out on a rolling silver cart, along with a pitcher of ice water and two glasses. Blair admired the meticulously plated meal that was placed in front of him. His experience with food was more along the lines of not caring how it looked as long as it tasted good.

The skyline was dark by the time their empty plates were taken away. He watched Wren put his gloves back on. “This was great. I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“We could go to our room, if you want,” Wren said, signing the receipt the waitress had dropped off.

“Our room ?”

Wren leaned his head back against the edge of the chair. “I guess Reymond thought he was being funny. That’s what I get for asking for his help. Anyway, we have a room if you don’t want to leave yet.”

Wren said it so casually, like being alone with him in a hotel room wasn’t going to evaporate what remained of Blair’s sanity.

“Sure,” Blair said.

Maybe the sanity was already gone.

He had no idea what he was doing, getting up to follow Wren out of the restaurant to the elevator. It was empty, because of course it was. Blair took a deep, pointless breath as he stepped inside. As soon as the doors closed it felt like there was no air in his lungs at all. Wren looked so goddamn good in a suit. He’d look so good out of a suit. Blair was fucked. He knew he was allowed to want Wren, but the desire simmering in his stomach after not even considering a relationship in so long made him feel lost.

A gloved hand curled around his jaw. “Blair,” Wren murmured.

Wren was probably just dragging him back to earth since he was spacing out, but the sound of his name snapped a thread that Blair didn’t even know he was hanging from. He wrapped his hand around the back of Wren’s neck and kissed him. A moment later Blair’s back was hitting the wall of the elevator, his hands sliding under Wren’s suit jacket where he found twin straps connected to his waist, and Blair’s fingers curled around them.

“You’re wearing suspenders,” Blair noted against Wren’s mouth.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for them.”

“Me neither.” Blair kissed him again. Wren held the side of Blair’s neck in one hand and braced the other on the wall behind him, and the heat in Blair’s stomach climbed to a fever pitch. He was hard against the seam of his slacks—there was no way Wren didn’t feel it, with his thigh slotted between Blair’s legs.

Blair bit Wren’s lip, and Wren made a sound he’d never heard before, breathy and unsteady, fingers digging a little harder into Blair’s nape.

The elevator opened. It was a good thing no one was waiting to get on, given their position. Wren didn’t look like he would have given a damn, the way his eyes burned as he pulled Blair out of the elevator, then spun him to press him against the wall of the hallway. Blair gasped, somehow panicked and turned on by the fact anyone could walk out of their room and see them.

Blair broke away, his chest heaving. “Room.”

Wren took his hand and Blair’s stomach flipped as he was led down the hallway. He tried to gather his thoughts as Wren took the keycard out of his inner jacket pocket, but as soon as the keypad lit up green and let them in, all he could think about was wanting Wren to touch him again.

They gravitated back to each other as soon as they were inside. Wren kicked the door shut since his hands were already on Blair’s waist, Blair grabbed Wren’s tie, and the downward spiral started all over again. Blair walked backward, pulling Wren along with him. The back of his knees hit the bed and he stumbled, teetering with only Wren’s arm around his waist to hold him up, but Wren didn’t tip that fine balance until Blair bit Wren’s lip again and sucked it into his mouth. Wren moaned in response and Blair was so hard it fucking hurt.

Blair’s back hit the bed, a soft comforter giving way to a firm mattress, making him feel like he was being swallowed whole. He hooked his leg around Wren’s calf to bring the other man down with him. Wren put a hand on the bed to hold himself up, but the other went to Blair’s jaw, guiding his mouth open further. Blair buried his fingers in Wren’s hair.

“Blair,” Wren said raggedly. “You need to give me some ground rules here.”

Blair looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what I can do before I fuck you back onto crutches.”

“ Oh .” Blair’s cock throbbed at hearing that, but he at least had a tiny scrap of his brain still functioning. “I don’t think I’m ready to go that far… but I want you to touch me. Please.”

Wren stroked his jawline with his thumb. “If you ask me to stop then I’ll stop. If you don’t, I’m going to take you apart. Are you okay with that?” he asked, his voice low.

Blair shuddered. “God yes.”

Wren kissed him again, but it was only for a moment before he dipped his head down to start kissing down the length of Blair’s neck. Blair groaned, head falling back on the bed. Wren brought his hand to Blair’s chest, slipped a finger between the first two buttons of his shirt. Blair was too overwhelmed to do anything more than nod. Wren pressed his lips to every inch of skin he revealed, button by button. He had only opened three and Blair was already shaking. This was nothing like his limited experience with another person touching him. Blair wound his fingers deeper into Wren’s messy locks, fighting the urge to arch up against Wren’s mouth.

Finally, Wren popped the last button open and spread the shirt open across Blair’s chest. He ghosted his lips over Blair’s tense abdomen. “I’ve wanted you since the first night I came to your apartment.”

His fingers clenched in Wren’s hair. “R-Really?”

“Wanted to do this.” Wren dragged his tongue up the middle of Blair’s abs.

“ Ah .”

“And this,” Wren said, and sucked hard below his collarbone over his tattoo until Blair knew a bruise would form, mottled within the ink.

“I sure gave you a lot of ideas,” Blair breathed.

Wren came back up to his face, close enough for his side swept bangs to hang down and brush Blair’s cheek. “You don’t know the half of it.” He ran his leather clad hands up Blair’s chest.

His hands reversed their path and wandered back down Blair’s body. Blair leaned up and kissed him when he couldn’t handle the eye contact any longer. He was glad he didn’t have to keep them open as Wren opened his slacks, and he was even more glad to have their kiss to muffle the sound he made when Wren lightly stroked him through his boxers. Even through the barrier of his underwear and Wren’s gloves, the feeling of Wren’s hand against his cock had him using all of his restraint not to push desperately into his hand.

Wren broke the kiss to sit back on his knees, hooking a finger into the bottom of one of his gloves.

“Leave them,” Blair said before his brain caught up to what his mouth was saying.

Wren raised an eyebrow, letting go of his glove.

Blair flushed. “They feel good.”

Thankfully, Wren seemed to want to touch him more than he wanted to torment him, since his smirk was the only response he gave before he took hold of Blair’s waistband. Blair nodded again and Wren worked his pants and underwear down his legs as one, freeing his cock. Precome already beaded at the tip. Wren looked down at him, his hair fucked up from Blair’s fingers and jacket open far enough for Blair to see his suspenders. His hands glided up Blair’s thighs but stopped short of where Blair needed them. Blair’s eyes fluttered shut when Wren’s fingers skimmed over his healing gunshot wound. He felt so fucking exposed, mostly naked while Wren was still dressed and just staring .

“Wren,” he said, though it came out as more of a whine.

Wren reached over to the nightstand and picked something up, fingers circling Blair’s hip. “I’m going to have to start dressing you up more often. It’s not fair to hide all this under those baggy clothes you wear.”

“Shut up,” Blair said weakly.

Wren leaned down, his face hovering over Blair’s. “Why? Your body is perfect, and it’s mine .”

He punctuated the end of his sentence by wrapping his hand around Blair’s cock. Wren’s long fingers encircled his thick length with ease. “Fuck,” Blair choked out, hips snapping up into the touch. Wren’s glove was slick with something, gliding easily on his cock as he started to stroke, tight and slow. Blair twisted a hand into the ivory duvet underneath him, contorting the gold filigree design around his fingers.

Wren kissed his neck, sucking the tender flesh over his racing pulse. Blair let his head fall to the side. There was just enough teeth to sting, which meant there would be a hickey that he would probably be pissed about later, but in the moment the extra jolt of sensation just had him reaching for Wren to hold him closer. His hand ended up under Wren’s jacket, fingers wrapped around the straps of his suspenders where they crossed over the middle of his back. Wren made a quiet sound of approval, running his tongue over the mark he’d left on Blair’s neck.

Heat coiled low in Blair’s stomach. It wasn’t the comfortable warmth he’d come to expect from pleasuring himself; it was thermite in his veins, melting through every misgiving and doubt, turning him molten and pliant in Wren’s hands.

“Perfect,” Wren said into his ear.

Blair didn’t know when he’d started shaking, only that hearing Wren’s voice made it worse. “Fuck, you need to stop talking.”

“No,” Wren said, quickening his strokes. “How could I, when you look so good like this?”

“ Wren .”

Wren’s teeth grazed his ear and a chill raced down Blair’s back. “Don’t hold it back.”

Blair thrashed against him. He didn’t want Wren to stop but he also felt like Wren was going to reduce him to a pile of cinders. Everything was too hot, too much and not enough. He turned his face into the bed, panting against the rumpled blankets as Wren worked the head of his cock, and god the gloves felt good. That coil of heat threatened to snap and Blair’s fragile hold on it was slipping.

He felt long fingers capture his nape and his head was picked up, forcing him to meet Wren’s eyes. Wren’s grip was too strong for Blair to even think about being able to turn away. A distant part of Blair’s mind (the rational part, which had been the first to go when clothes started coming off) thought there was no reason for a college student to be that strong, but it was drowned out by the wildfire of sensation burning through him.

Warm, slick leather moved quickly over Blair’s cock, smearing the steady drip of his precome. Blair shook uncontrollably. It had been years since anyone else touched him, though if he was being honest, no one had ever touched him like this. He hoped he didn’t look as vulnerable as he felt, with their eyes locked together while he trembled and leaked and clung to Wren like he was the only real thing in the world.

“That’s it. Come for me, Blair,” Wren said, his fingers flexing around the back of Blair’s neck.

Blair tried to speak but he was stricken mute except for the unintelligible gasps that came out whenever he tried to draw a breath. He registered that he’d lost his grip on the back of Wren’s suspenders, then he fell apart. Words formed in his throat and fell apart as a moan. He found his nails in Wren’s back, digging in through his shirt, every muscle in Blair’s body contracting as he came. Wren talked him through it and Blair couldn’t understand a word of it, but he heard Wren’s voice—that voice that drove him fucking crazy and dragged his orgasm out until he didn’t think he’d ever come back down.

Wren didn’t stop until the last drops of Blair’s come had painted his stomach, and even then, he stroked him one more time before he let go. Blair’s hand fell from Wren’s back. He would have kept it there, but apparently none of his muscles were functioning anymore. Tremors crept over his body as Wren lowered his head back down to the bed.

“Come here,” Blair said, catching the front of Wren’s shirt when he tried to sit up. “I want to touch you, too. Like you did for me.” And he did, but he also didn’t want Wren to leave him. Not yet, while Blair still felt torn open. Laid bare in more ways than one.

Wren flicked a lock of Blair’s hair off his face, his hands bare, gloves presumably discarded. “You should rest your leg after tensing up so much.”

Blair pushed, and Wren may have a good grip but he wasn’t going to win a contest of strength against Blair, so Wren moved back until he ran out of bed and had to get to his feet. Blair sat up on the edge and grinned. “See? No weight on my leg, doctor. So come here,” he repeated, grabbing Wren’s belt loops.

“You don’t have to do this,” Wren said, but his voice hitched as Blair hauled him closer.

“I want to. I’ve never done this before, but I want to.” Blair tentatively palmed the front of Wren’s slacks, lightly stroking the outline of his cock through the thin material.

Wren gasped, one of his hands coming up to hold the side of Blair’s face, but he didn’t stop him. “Okay.”

Blair sucked one of Wren’s thumbs into his mouth and bit down. Wren made a higher sound at that, a sound that gave Blair confidence even if he knew he didn’t have the experience or the skills that Wren obviously did. It also helped confirm something he’d started to suspect more and more, that along with being a possessive bastard, Wren liked pain.

He opened the metal clasp of Wren’s slacks and unzipped them. His hands shook, still unsteady from his orgasm. It was almost funny, thinking of how hard he’d tried to avoid his attraction to Wren at first, but Wren just kept pulling him in. Now Blair was naked except for his open shirt, watching Wren shrug out of his suspenders like he hung the fucking moon in the sky.

“You like it rough, right?” he asked, running his finger along Wren’s waist inside the edge of his briefs.

Wren let his suspenders fall and hang on either side of his hips. “Something like that.”

“Wanna elaborate?”

The look Wren gave him suggested that no, he most certainly did not want to elaborate, but Blair could be patient when he was motivated. He stared up at Wren, messing with his waistband, delighting in the responsive twitching of Wren’s muscles under his finger and Blair claimed a slow victory over him without having to say another word. Wren looked at the ceiling, then back down at him and said, “Pain is the only thing that… feels like something.” The words were stilted, each one coming out more uncomfortably than the last.

Well. There was a lot to unpack with that . “Okay,” Blair said, pressing his lips to the hollow of Wren’s hip, just barely visible in the gap between the hem of Wren’s shirt and his undone slacks.

“I know it doesn’t make sense.”

“Not really. But it doesn’t have to.” He looked up at Wren as he pulled him out of his underwear. Wren hissed as his cock was exposed to the open air of the room, and Blair asked, “You still okay with this?”

Wren moved his hands from Blair’s face to the back of his head to twist loosely into his hair. His eyes darkened at Blair’s touch. “Yeah.”

He leaned forward and took the head of Wren’s cock into his mouth. It was as perfect as Blair had expected, long and gorgeous with a prominent vein that he could feel against his lips. He heard a quick intake of breath above him, as if Wren hadn’t realized this was what Blair was going to do. All the better, he thought as he dipped his head down further on Wren’s cock, that the surprise might help make up for some of his lack of experience. Blair pulled back until only the head of Wren’s cock was in his mouth before he sunk down again. He was mostly doing what he knew would feel good to him.

The next time he pulled back he laved his tongue over the flushed head. Wren moaned, so low it was almost inaudible but the sound aroused Blair all over again. For it to be his first time giving head, he felt pretty good about how he was doing but he wasn’t satisfied with just okay . He called on his years of taking shots that hit his stomach like gasoline, of suppressed coughs from breathing in clouds of cigarette smoke, and dipped his head forward until Wren filled his mouth. He stomped down his gag reflex when the head of Wren’s cock touched the back of his throat.

Wren gasped sharply. “Jesus, Blair, I didn’t think you had done this before.”

Rather than answer him, Blair began moving his head up and down again, finding that he could take Wren all the way into his mouth at a steady pace without choking. He splayed his hand on Wren’s back under his shirt. It rose and fell under Blair’s hand as Wren fought to take a deep breath, which Blair did his best to deny him as he swallowed around the head of Wren’s cock. Wren had been so determined to take him apart, the least he could do was return the favor.

Blair dragged his nails down Wren’s spine and Wren cried out, pitching forward and bracing himself with a hand on Blair’s shoulder.

Blair liked the weight of Wren leaning on him. He looked up to Wren’s face, his usually pale skin flushed, eyes feverish behind his glasses, watching him. Blair could taste precome on his tongue and he wanted more, he wanted it all. He found a rhythm with his mouth and hand that made Wren’s hand clench around his shoulder. If Wren was doing that to his leg (the one with the hole in it, specifically) it might have hurt, but Wren was holding onto solid muscle, so he could cling all he wanted and Blair would be all too happy to hold him up until he’d dragged Wren over the edge.

He dug his nails into the scratches he’d left before and moaned as Wren’s cock throbbed in his mouth. Wren’s hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, fingers twisting into the short locks over Blair’s nape. “God, Blair, if you keep doing that— fuck ,” Wren broke off in a curse as Blair deepthroated him again.

Blair couldn’t verbally encourage Wren to let go as Wren had done for him, so he hummed around Wren’s cock, using the hand on Wren’s back to pull him closer. He could feel Wren shaking. His jaw ached, but he barely gave it a passing thought.

“Blair,” Wren gasped, voice cracked from moaning and nearly shouting at times. He was clinging to the back of Blair’s head with one hand and desperately gripped his shoulder with the other. Blair’s neck was starting to hurt from how fast and how often he was moving his head, but it was worth it when Wren let out a broken sound and pushed his hips forward against Blair’s mouth. “Fuck, Blair. ”

Wren tried to pull his entire body back at once but Blair was strong, plenty strong enough to clutch his back and hold him in place as he came. He sucked him through his orgasm just as Wren had worked him through his. Wren repeated Blair’s name over and over as he released into his mouth. Blair continued even as the cries of his name gradually became quieter and further apart, and only stopped when they ceased entirely, replaced by wordless gasps for air as Blair sucked the oversensitive flesh.

Satisfaction settled over him as he pulled his mouth away. If he was being honest, it made him feel proud to hear Wren’s broad, snarky vocabulary reduced only to his name and a few curses, just from what Blair had done to him. It soothed some of his anxiety about the difference in their experience. Wren had never said how many people he’d slept with, but if he’d been with any, it was more than Blair had.

He grabbed Wren and pulled him onto the bed. Wren went willingly, though Blair didn’t know if that was because his legs were wobbly from coming or if orgasms just made him more complacent. Whatever the reason, he was glad for it as Wren allowed himself to be pulled down, settling on his back with Blair’s arm thrown over him. Wren fixed his pants and left his suspenders hanging around his waist.

Wren rolled his head to look at him. “Hell of a date.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say.”

Wren kissed him and Blair kissed him back—aimlessly, pointlessly, for no other reason than to feel Wren’s lips against his, and do something besides be enamored with how perfectly Wren’s waist fit in the crook of his arm. Blair knew he shouldn’t get too wrapped up in this thing they were doing. They were just having fun in the spare time they found between their own responsibilities. Incindious needed him, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by Wren and his pristine world that didn’t smell like blood and gunpowder.

Blair knew that, but with the way it felt to have Wren in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was already too late.