Page 24 of The Wild Charge

“Why did–” Reese began.

Hands gripped his shoulders and spun him around. Even just a few months ago, he would have twisted loose, crouched, and retaliated, running on instinct.

But his instincts had shifted totally when it came to Tenny, he acknowledged, and so he went willingly, and let Tenny crowd in close to him. Let Tenny take both his hands, and urge them to his hips, the thin, stretchy black fabric that covered them. Let Tenny then grip his face, his gaze fiercely hungry in the glimpse Reese caught before Tenny kissed him.

It wasn’t a surprise this time. Felt more like an inevitable crashing together of two forces held back too long. It had only been a matter of days since the last time, but Reese felt a bright surge of glad relief. He opened his mouth right away, and the kiss was instantly deep and harsh and wet.

Tenny bit his lip, and pulled back just long enough to breathe, “Jesus Christ,touch me.”

Reese did. He gripped his hips, hard, harder even than intended, and dragged him in closer, so they were pressed flush, a move that stirred a thrilling little sound from Tenny’s throat. Then he reached around to fill his hands with Tenny’s ass, taut, and smooth, and as perfect to feel as it had been to watch for the past two hours.

Tenny kissed him savagely, burying his hands in Reese’s hair and pulling at his scalp. Reese, in turn, pushed up his shirt so he could touch the skin of his back, his ribs, his stomach. The breeches, he discovered with exploratory fingertips, had a snap and zipper closure in front, and Tenny gasped a throaty “ah” sound against his mouth when he unfastened them.

Rather than boxers, Tenny wore tight, slick briefs beneath; Reese knew them, had seen them before, black and clinging. Tenny was already hard beneath them, cock trapped by the tight fabric.

“Mph. Wait.” Tenny broke the kiss so he could bite Reese on the neck, a sharp, stinging pressure that only just managed not to break the skin. “Wait, wait.” His hands left Reese’s hair, trailed down his sides, and he tore at Reese’s belt buckle, his fly.

Both of them were breathing harshly, open-mouthed, panting, their breath humid in the close space between them, the sounds of the breaths themselves echoing off the sloped ceiling.

Tenny got Reese’s jeans open, and shoved down the waistband of his boxers so his cock sprang free, half-hard and filling quickly. He stroked it, sure, expert, with his own pants open, the head of his own cock peeking out of his underwear.

Reese remembered, with aching clarity, Tenny taking him into his mouth, the heat and pleasure of it, and wanted, suddenly, to reciprocate; for Tenny to feel that same rush and crash of bliss.

Reese brushed Tenny’s hand off his cock – “What–” – hit his knees, tugged Tenny’s briefs the rest of the way down, and leaned in to run his tongue up the length of his cock.

“Oh–” Tenny’s voice tapered off into a quiet, startled shout. He gripped Reese’s hair again, blunt nails scraping his scalp, fingers curling tight. “Oh – you don’t – that’s…oh,love.” Guttural, at the end, as Reese gripped his cock steady at the base with one hand and took the head into his mouth.

It had been done to him enough that he understood the mechanics of it, though he knew he lacked all technique. He was familiar with the salt and musk, had tasted it on Tenny’s lips only recently, but it was different close up like this; different with Tenny heavy on his tongue, stretching his jaw.

He choked a little, at first; Tenny tugged at his hair and murmured soothingly, shushed him like a child. But then he relaxed his jaw, and breathed through his nose, and he found a sort of rhythm. Spit trickled down his chin, and his eyes watered, but he found that he liked it: liked the little wounded sounds Tenny was making, and the way he gripped his hair so tightly. Liked the way Tenny’s hips kept twitching forward like he couldn’t help it, even when it left Reese wanting to gag. He felt his own cock hard and throbbing, fully erect, now, his blood singing and sparkling like champagne bubbles.

Tenny came quickly. Reese took him as deep as he could, lips tight around him, and felt Tenny’s stomach tense against his nose, a gasp his only warning before wet heat burst against the back of his throat, a flood of salt. He swallowed, with difficulty, and pulled off, the last of Tenny’s release splashing across his lips.

Tenny shifted his hands to his shoulders, and let Reese hold his weight, pitched forward as they both caught their breath. Reese swallowed a few more times, and licked his lips; the taste wasn’t too unpleasant.

Tenny, he could tell, was shaking.

After a minute, Tenny gripped his hair again, and tugged at him. “C’mere,” he murmured, voice slurred and drowsy.

Reese stood, with a little stiffness, still hard and aching, his breathing unsteady, and his knees sore from the floorboards. Tenny’s face was arresting: a strange mix of flushed and slack from pleasure, and also wide-eyed and wondrous. And hungry, still; he was always so, so hungry.

He cupped Reese’s face in both hands, and murmured, “Holy God, you wonderful idiot.” Leaned in and kissed him.

It was nearly as frantic as the kiss from before; he urged Reese’s jaw wider with the press of his thumb, and licked deep into his mouth, tip of his tongue tracing his palate, teeth, lingering over his lips, swiping over them again and again.

Licking the taste of his own release out of his mouth, Reese realized, with a jolt that left his cock twitching against Tenny’s stomach.

Tenny took him in hand again. Voice a rough whisper against his lips: “Here, love. Get yours.”

He stroked him firmly, familiarly, and it didn’t take long before Reese came, hot and messy between them, his vision blacking out so thoroughly that he closed his eyes and tipped forward; let Tenny support his weight with his body, and with the arm he wrapped around his shoulders.

Tenny kissed the side of his head, and hummed a satisfied sound.

When they were steadier, Tenny pulled a clean towel from his backpack and they cleaned up as best they could, with the help of a little water from the bathroom tap. Reese refastened his jeans, and Tenny stripped efficiently out of his tall boots and breeches, and tugged his own jeans and harness boots back on.

Reese was finished first, and sat down on the edge of the mattress, his legs still a little wobbly.

Tenny lit a cigarette and sat down next to him, their sides pressed together in a warm, reassuring way. On the first exhale, he said, “Emmie said I could live here if I wanted to.”

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