Page 49 of Gunpowder

“Yes,” Wren said, pulling his shoes on.

“I don’t.”

“You should.” Wren walked to the door, but he hesitated with his hand on the knob. He spoke quietly, but the apartment was small enough for his voice to carry. “It’s not that I don’t want to reciprocate your feelings, Blair. I just don’t know how.”

Then he walked out, and the sound of the door closing resonated in Blair’s ears for what felt like hours. He didn’t remember getting up from the couch but a twinge of pain in his leg made him realize he’d started walking to the door. Somehow Wren’s words didn’t land as a rejection. Maybe they should have, but at most, all Blair felt was irritation as he pulled the door open and stormed out into the hallway.

“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and run off?” Blair called out.

Wren stopped halfway down the hallway. He slowly turned around. “What else do you want me to say? I can’t give you what you want.”

“You’re a fuckup. That’s what you told me.”

“And now you see why.”

“And I told you to be my fuckup. So come back.”

Wren blinked at him, looking beyond just confused. He looked lost. He took a few uncertain steps closer to Blair. “I can’t… I don’t feel anything, Blair. I’m numb. Empty. I never planned on—”

“You didn’t plan?” Blair laughed. “You think I did? You think a relationship is what I needed while my people are getting shot at and hit with cars? Because I tried not to want you. It didn’t work. If you don’t want to do this anymore, by all means, keep walking. I won’t try to keep you against your will. But if this is just your sorry attempt to keep me from being hurt or disappointed or something, then get your insufferable ass back inside.”

Wren stalked toward him and Blair backed up into the apartment. He didn’t know if Wren was going to choke him on his cock or put a scalpel through his eye, but Blair didn’t want either of those things to occur in the hallway. His pulse climbed as Wren followed him through the doorway and flung the door shut behind him without ever taking his eyes off of Blair.

“You’re a reckless, stubborn idiot,” Wren said, and jerked Blair forward.

Their mouths met halfway in a torrid surrender of half-stifled groans and lips pressing together hard enough to bruise.

Blair pushed onto his toes, then let out a hiss of pain as his right leg protested in force. Wren solved that problem quickly. His hands slid from Blair’s waist to the back of his thighs and the floor disappeared. Blair’s eyes flew open in shock as Wren lifted him right off the ground without breaking the kiss and spun them to press him against the door, hefting Blair’s legs around his waist. Shit. No one had ever done that to him before, but he was pretty sure he liked it.

He grabbed Wren’s ponytail holder and yanked it out. It flew somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, maybe, he didn’t know or care. He wound his fingers deep into Wren’s hair and pulled. Wren made a gorgeously broken sound into his mouth, so Blair did it again. If the only thing Wren could feel was pain then Blair was going to make him feel, and if Wren was going to take him to his knees, then he was taking Wren down with him.

Wren supporting his weight left his arms free so Blair grabbed the hem of Wren’s scrubs and pulled his shirt as far up as he could until their joined mouths halted his progress. Blair gave it an insistent tug and Wren complied, pressing into Blair with his lower body to keep him against the wall as he raised his arms for Blair to finish pulling it over his head.

He clutched Wren’s shoulders, feeling muscle coil under his hands as Wren grabbed his thighs again. Wren nipped at his throat and Blair raked his nails down the taller man’s bare shoulder blades.

“Fuck,” Wren gasped.

“Bed,” Blair said before he could ask.

He thought Wren would let him down but he just started carrying him toward the stairs. Admittedly, Blair didn’t make it any easier for him by taking Wren’s earrings between his teeth and gently tugging them as he walked, dragging his tongue over the cold metal.

They fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs, but it only took a little shifting for Wren to slot himself between Blair’s thighs. Blair gasped as their cocks slid together through their pants, head falling back on the pillows, exposing his throat to an assault from Wren’s mouth. The muscles in Wren’s back flexed under Blair’s hands as Wren moved down his neck, sucking marks into place that Blair was going to play hell trying to hide, but in that moment he didn’t care.

Wren slid Blair’s shirt up, slowly, pressing his palms into every dip and plane of Blair’s abdomen as he did. He only relinquished Blair’s neck long enough to pull it off and throw it aside. Then Wren dipped back down to Blair’s flesh like he had to make up for the few seconds he wasn’t marking it up. Blair watched, too enraptured to remember to be embarrassed, cock twitching at the sight of Wren’s mouth on his naked chest. He flushed when Wren looked up and held his gaze. Blair swallowed, pushing Wren’s bangs back and holding them against his head.

Somehow, despite the fact Blair was watching every move Wren made, it still managed to take him by surprise when Wren’s lips wrapped around his nipple. A high pitched sound worked its way out of Blair’s throat. His hand clenched in Wren’s hair, and it made Wren’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure, tongue flicking out against the hardened bud between his lips. Blair moaned, jerking up against him.

“Wren,” Blair said, a plea underlying in his voice.

Wren looked back up at him and moved to slowly lick Blair’s other nipple, until it shone with saliva the same as the other one. He kept moving down, leaving a mark on Blair’s ribs, then another just below his navel. Blair took a strained breath as Wren flicked open the button of his pants and slid them down his legs. He thought his underwear would be next, but Wren occupied himself with kissing Blair’s inner thigh, Wren’s thumb dipping under the hem of Blair’s boxer briefs to inch them up and suck the skin he’d just exposed.

Blair’s cock throbbed as Wren took the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh between his teeth, knowing there would be an impressive hickey by the time Wren was done. Blair looked down the length of his own body that was getting more bruised by the second and glared at the man between his legs. “You know, you could just write ‘property of Wren Masters’ on me, it would be quicker.”

“Don’t,” Wren groaned against his thigh, his voice a full octave lower than Blair was used to, “fucking tempt me.”

Wren finally grabbed the waistband of Blair’s underwear, and Blair raised his hips to let them be slid down, and off along with the pants bunched around Blair’s knees. He returned just as quickly as he did after taking Blair’s shirt off, but rather than his chest, it was Blair’s cock he latched onto.

“Shit,” Blair choked as wet heat engulfed him.