Page 74 of The Falcon and the Foe

“Me, too,” I said between grunts. “Touch yourself, baby.”

The moans and grunts and skin slapping enveloped the space. The glass fogged up with our masculine sweat. I arched my back to meet his opening, my balls slapping against his crack. Cal leaned back, steadying himself with both hands on my legs as he fucked me senseless.

I was on the verge of losing consciousness when the orgasm barreled down my body, drawing up my balls. My loudest groan ripped out of me as I emptied myself inside Cal.

Cal groaned with abandon and jerked himself off wildly, shooting his load across my chest and stomach. A few drops hit my chin. I licked up the bitter release.

The afterglow lighting up Cal was pure. The flushed skin and swollen lips and look of dazed euphoria washed over his face. His fingers slid down the fogged glass, leaving streaks in their wake.

“Well, that was unexpected,”

“Was it, though?” Cal laid next to me. “I had this hope when you asked to discuss Falcons stuff that this is what you really wanted.”

“I did want to discuss badge progression.” I blushed. “But I wanted this more.”

“I’m glad you did. Obviously.”

I nuzzled into Cal’s beard and inhaled the smells of sweat and sex coming off us.

“I thought I was going to be celibate forever.”

“You thought wrong, apparently.” Cal leaned down so our faces were inches apart, our legs twisted together like computer wires.

“Have you ever thought of growing your hair out? You’d look even cuter shaggy.”

“No,” I said definitively.

“Better do it now before it’s gone.”

“I come from a family of men who all kept their hair. I’ll be fine.”

“Bastard.” Cal’s face scrunched up with laughter. I wanted to bring out this boyish joy all the time.

The world ceased to exist outside the booth. No kids, no jobs, no responsibilities. All that mattered was this moment, of being there in each other’s arms. I wanted to hold on, but a part of me pushed back at the intimacy. It was a road down which I’d promised myself I wouldn’t travel.

My eyes found the clock on the wall as if it were an escape hatch. “I need to get back to work.”

“Do you, though?”

“Well, yeah. It’s my job. And you have to go to the grocery store. You’re going to be late.”

“I have today off.”

“But you said your shift starts at one.”

“I lied so that you wouldn’t stay long. This was before I knew we were going to pounce on each other like tigers.”

“Thanks.” I mussed a hand through his hair. “Don’t you have recording work to do?”

“I have to record a scene of two men having hot sex.” He made an air check with his finger. “Done.” He circled said finger over my nipple, which threatened to send us into round two. “Call in sick.”

“What?”

“You’re already out. Take the afternoon off. You’re on salary so you won’t get docked pay. Do you really want to go back to the office covered in me?”

I turned red. “I can shower at my gym.”

“Just tell them you’re sick or Quentin’s sick.”

---