Chapter Five #2
The next few moments were a muddle of fumbled clothes and hurried logistical decisions.
The potting tables were old and solid, but covered with expensive, occasionally predatory plants; the chair was right there but kind of rickety (and the cushion on it smelt odd, which Shepherd didn’t want to be distracted by).
That left the floor.
Shepherd could work with that. He dragged Kel down with him onto the hard, sun-warmed tiles between the potting tables. A grunted ‘fuck’ from Kel made him pull away for a moment.
“You OK?” he asked.
Kel gave a smile that was a lie, all tight lips and hard angles.
“Yeah,” he said. Shepherd wasn’t convinced, but he was distracted.
Kel took advantage of the moment to grab the collar of Shepherd’s polo shirt and drag it up over his head.
When Shepherd fought his way out of the sweaty folds of cotton, he was met with a kiss that pressed him down flat onto the floor.
Somewhere in between, he lost track of any other thought in his head.
Pleasure shivered under his skin like chills as Kel sprawled out on top of him.
He could feel their cocks pressed together, the scrape of the single layer of fabric separating them somewhere between delicious and torture.
He arched up into Kel’s body, one leg hooked over his hip, and ran his hand down Kel’s back.
His fingers traced the long, stretched-out bands of flexed muscle down to where his waist narrowed in.
Kel chewed kisses down Shepherd’s throat and over his collarbone. He shifted his weight to get better access, grunted something that was muffled against Shepherd’s shoulder, and rolled them both over. Shepherd blinked at the change in perspective as he looked down at Kel.
Laid out on the age-faded tiles, mouth flushed from kissing and ruddy hair tangled into curls, he looked like an illustration from the Lady of the Furrow’s holy book.
Since most of those illustrations had been sacrificial diagrams, it should have probably given Shepherd mixed feelings, but…
That had been what he’d had during a very hormonal period in his life, so it really worked for him.
“You really surprised I’m going to make you do all the work?” Kel asked, a thread of tension under the amusement in his voice.
Shepherd snorted and used Kel’s shoulders to push himself up.
“Lucky for you, I have an excellent work ethic,” he said primly, with a raised eyebrow.
Kel’s snort of laughter trembled against the inside of Shepherd’s thighs.
It made his ass tighten, the ache of it dull and heavy in his gut.
He had to ride out the wave of lust before he could shift to the side and strip his shorts off.
While he did that, Kel sat up, his body all angles and bones as he bent it, and grabbed something from his pocket before he kicked his jeans the rest of the way off.
As he stretched back out, his weight on his elbows, Shepherd’s gaze was caught, first by the heavy lift of his cock as it angled up toward his creased stomach. It was thick and ready, the head already glazed with a thin dribble of pre-come.
Then Shepherd ran his appreciative gaze the rest of the way down Kel’s body and saw the scars.
Livid lines striated both Kel’s knees, puckered and white as they wrapped around the joints. Another scar, long and dented, ran down the front of his shin.
“Don’t worry,” Kel interrupted Shepherd’s study. “Everything above the knee still works.”
He paused as he thought about it.
“Everything below them too,” he added with a flicker of pedantic humor. “It’s just the fucking knees that aren’t pulling their weight.”
“I’ve seen worse,” Shepherd said. Then he rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about it. “That’s probably not the right reaction. Should I try again?”
Kel started to answer, stopped, and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know if there is a right reaction.”
“I could say ‘sorry’.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“True,” Shepherd said. He touched his fingertips to the scars and felt the dull heat of them. Muscles twitched under his hand in a reaction that could have been good or bad. “Does it hurt?”
Kel took a slow breath. “...yeah,” he admitted, his voice thin as if he had to draw it out of himself.
“Now?”
Kel shrugged. “Pretty much always.”
Shepherd cupped Kel’s knee in his hand, fingers tucked in the hollow behind it. It felt oddly intimate. He leaned down and brushed a kiss lightly over the scars.
“Would fucking make it feel better?” he asked.
That got him a spluttered laugh from Kel.
“It can’t hurt,” Kel said, then paused as he quirked the corner of his mouth in that slightly bitter smirk as he corrected himself. “Not so much in this position, at least.”
Shepherd could work with that.
He pushed Kel back down onto the floor and climbed on top of him. The grit of old bonemeal and old bones dug into his bare knees. Under the circumstances, he thought it would be ungracious to complain about that.
Sprawled out under him, Kel looked almost shockingly vivid against the sun-bleached wood.
It made his mussed auburn hair ruddier and picked out the coppery tones in his tanned skin.
One hand idly cuffed his cock and stroked it, slow and easy, as his gaze trailed down over Shepherd’s body appreciatively.
“I’ve never been with a guy who’s not cut before,” he remarked.
Shepherd glanced down at his cock. He was already erect, his foreskin rolled partially back from the flushed head of his cock.
“You want to fuck me?” he asked as he reached down to pull it back the rest of the way. The thin skin creased under his fingers and prickles of pleasure snapped back along his nerve endings. “Or for me to fuck you?”
“Does it make a difference?”
Shepherd shrugged. “Not for me,” he said.
Kel offered him the condom he’d fished out of his jeans, the foil packet pinched between his fingers. “It’s still early,” he said, casting a glance up at the sky through the glass panels overhead. “And I’m still young enough to go again…if you want.”
The offer managed to sound grudging. Shepherd decided not to take it that way. He plucked the condom out of Kel’s fingers and ripped the corner off it with his teeth.
“We could, I guess,” he said. “Not like there’s anyone waiting up for me.”
He pulled the ring of latex out, clear and slick with lube, and slid it onto Kel’s cock. It stretched around the heft of his shaft, pliant and cool over hot flesh.
Kel moved his hand to make it easier, tracing his fingers up the inside of Shepherd’s thigh instead.
“What about the doll?” he teased.
“It’s a doll,” Shepherd said dismissively as he rolled the condom down until the band stretched around the thick base of Kel’s cock. “She doesn’t sleep.”
The reaction this time was half-snort and half-shudder.
“You’re so weird,” he muttered and held his hand out.
Shepherd squeezed the excess lube into Kel’s palm, the slick, vaguely blueberry-scented liquid thick as it dripped out of the packet.
“Still hot enough to get away with it, I guess,” he said.
Kel snorted as he reached up between Shepherd’s legs.
His fingers slid between Shepherd’s cheeks and probed at his hole.
They were rough under the slick coating of lube and insistent.
Shepherd bit back a groan—he wasn’t sure why he bothered; who was going to hear—as his ass clenched around the intrusion.
Pleasure went through him like a slap, his cock twitching and his muscles clenched from thighs to stomach.
He dug his knuckles into his thighs and bit his lower lip as he rocked his hips back to fuck himself against Kel’s hand.
“Baby,” Kel drawled. “Right now, you could be Dio in a rubber mask, and it’d not be weird enough to put me off.”
Shepherd snorted and slapped his hand on Kel’s stomach.
“Isn’t that your uncle?” he said. “You’re slipping.”
Kel pulled his fingers out of Shepherd. He grabbed his ass with both hands instead, slick and cold against hothouse warm flesh, and tugged him forward.
“I stand by it,” he said.
Shepherd considered that for a beat. “I can respect that,” he said.
He reached down to grab Kel’s cock. It was rigid in his grip, the pulse of blood quick and eager against his fingertips even through the skin of latex.
He held it in place as he lowered himself onto it.
His thigh muscles twitched as he felt the dull pressure of it against his hole.
Sweat slicked his stomach as he lowered himself down, the thickness of Kel’s cock stretching him wide.
Pleasure cored through Shepherd, hot and sharp and immediate.
It felt like…well, fucking. Mostly. He’d never been able to find any other way to describe it effectively.
It made his bones feel heavy and cinched his chest tight.
It dried his throat and wet his cock. What else would he compare it to? Eating a cupcake? Being electrocuted?
Sort of? A little? Kind of like that.
Mostly it felt like fucking. Which was what he wanted, so he wasn’t complaining.