Page 42 of Gunpowder

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.

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