Page 84 of College Town

Tommy breathes out shakily, but doesn’t argue.

Lawson strips out of his boxers and moves up on his knees to settle between Tommy’s splayed legs; gives himself a few firm, grounding squeezes.

“Law–”

“Hush,” he repeats, “you’re being a brat.” He lets go of his own cock in exchange for batting Tommy’s hand away and replacing it with his own.

Tommy lights up like a live wire, head pressing back into the pillow, back bowing. He sucks in a breath, but Lawson saidhush, so he doesn’t say anything; bites his lip and lets out a muffled grunt.

“That’s okay, baby,” Lawson says, stroking him root to tip, gliding his thumb through the slick at the head. “You don’t have to be silent.” He tries to smile, but finds his well of teasing has gone suddenly dry, the way Tommy lifts into his grip, fingers clutching at the sheets and chest heaving. “You can – you can be sweet to me.”Please be sweet to me, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. “You can…” He has to swallow, mesmerized, shaking inside. “Let me know if it feels good.”

Tommy gasps raggedly. “It does, it does feel good. Lawson. God. Please, can you–”

“Shh, shh.” Lawson strokes his quivering stomach with his free hand, and slides the now-damp other down to cup his balls, squeezing gently.

“I do want you to fuck me. Please,please.”

“Yeah, baby. I will.”

Tommy lifts a hand and makes a grabby motion, wanting him closer, eyes gleaming in the near-dark, expression pleading.

Lawson slicks his fingers, first, and then leans down to kiss him while he touches him where he hasn’t for twenty long, lonely years.

Tommy murmurs wordlessly against his mouth, both hands carding through Lawson’s hair to hold him close. Fevered, sloppy kisses, little gasping pauses, as Lawson works him open slow and thorough, one finger, two, three.

Lawson is seventeen again and shaking all over, belly full of lava, marveling at the way Tommy’s body opens for him, so tight and so hot inside.

“I’m ready,” Tommy pants against his mouth. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

His hands or so unsteady he fumbles the bottle when he goes to slick his cock. The skin of Tommy’s shins and then thighs feels red-hot against his palms as he moves in closer, lining them up.

Dizziness hit him again. He’s so hard he hurts, and he can’t breathe, and his stomach is in knots, and Tommy is so, so–

“Sweetheart,” Tommy says, low and rough, endearment and encouragement both.

Lawson spreads his thighs a little wider and starts pushing in.

And in, and in, andin.

He’s had a lot of sex, and all of it has been decent at best, mechanical in the middle, and downright bad at worst. The blind dates and Grindr hookups who panicked once he got naked and said no way he was putting it in; the ones who’d made less than pleasured faces and hadn’t come; and then those who raved about how big he was, but who left Lawson feeling cold and ready to bolt before the sweat had cooled.

But with Tommy, when they were teenagers, it was always the sort of world-tilting, mind-bending ascension that staggered him. Knocked all the breath out of him and left him reeling with disbelief that their bodies could fit this way, that they could make one another feel so good.

It's the same now, still stunning the way Tommy’s body gives around him, the way he’s hyper-aware of each inch of himself gliding inside.

And Tommy still gets overwhelmed, like he did back then.

“Ooooh,” he croons, quiet, but so, so throaty and pleased when Lawson bottoms out. “Oh, baby.Goddamn.”

A familiar, but long-forgotten surge of triumph kindles behind Lawson’s breastbone. Fucking Tommy used to make him feel on top of the world. He feels like that now.

He wrestles his own desperation into submission as he takes Tommy by both sharp-boned hips and gives an experimental roll of his hips. “Yeah? You good?”

The low, needy sound Tommy makes is unmistakably encouraging, so Lawson draws back a fraction, and then pushes slowly back in. Tommy exhales like he’s been punched, and grabs at Lawson’s arms, hands spasming clumsily. Lawson repeats the motion, thumbs digging bruises in the sweaty hollows of Tommy’s hips, and then does it again, again, until he feels Tommy lift up and meet his next thrust.

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