Page 31 of Connected
“Food,” said Keaton, looking amused.
“Can wait.” But then a serious consideration occurred to Owen. “Where’s the chief and Tenrael?” He looked around as if they might pop out from behind the curtains or under the bed… which, with those two, wasn’t entirely impossible.
“I sent them to the guesthouse. Owen, whatisGrimes?”
Owen shrugged. “Hell if I know. Nobody does. I’ve heard all kinds of wild rumors and guesses, but…. Nobody knew what Townsend was either. I guess it’s nobody’s business but theirs.” He’d never spent much time speculating. He generally had too many other things to think about.
Like right now, for instance, with Keaton only inches away. “Forget about my boss. Forget about food and the scratches on my face?—”
“They’re slices, not scratches.”
“Forget about them. And coal dust and messy hair. And parents who fucked up. And careers that didn’t turn out as planned. And LA and Copper Springs and everything. Forget about everything but us. If that’s what you want. ’Cause youknowwhat I want.” He held his breath, hoping for the best.
“Hope,” Keaton breathed. And then dove in for a kiss.
For a while they simply made out, warm and cozy in Keaton’s nice bed, the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead and the scents of laundry detergent and soap almost covering the coal odor. Movie stars from a hundred years ago looked down at them from framed photos on the wall, seemingly approving. Owen wasnaked and Keaton wore only boxer briefs, and their bodies fitted together perfectly.
“Eight years,” Keaton said breathlessly when they paused the kissing in favor of gentle stroking of backs and arms.
“Did you forget how? Doesn’t seem like it.”
Keaton tickled him. “Eight years. And I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t expect fireworks.”
Owen spoke into the crook of Keaton’s neck, where he was sweet and tender. “Don’t want fireworks. I wantyou. Exactly as you are.”
When Owen was a kid, he’d developed a crush on Criss Tempest because he was cute and funny and seemed so confident onscreen. It turned out, however, that Keaton Gale was much more than that. Still cute, still funny at times. But in real life, as a mature man, he had depth and strength. He would risk his life to defend a near-stranger, and while bound and tortured and threatened with death—and without any special training—he’d defeated a really nasty bad guy.
Keaton moaned. “Oh God. Is it super narcissistic for me to get off on you admiring me?”
“Is that what does it for you?”
“I was an actor, after all.”
“Good. You keep right on doing that with your hand, and I’ll admire the hell out of you.”
The lovemaking that followed certainly wasn’t the most energetic of Owen’s life; neither of them were up for gymnastics. But it was incredibly satisfying, with Keaton able to sense Owen’s every desire and willing to fulfill it, and with Owen happily projecting his pleasure and his joy. There was no physical penetration beyond tongues into mouths, but Owen felt emotionally filled, as if Keaton were both outside and inside of him.
“It’s a loop,” Keaton whispered into Owen’s ear. His breath was warm and gave Owen delicious shivers. “I do something, you feel good, I feel you feeling good, that makes me feel good, I do it some more….”
Owen, who wasn’t quite capable of coherent speech at that point, simply hummed his agreement and undulated against him.
This wasn’t just about getting off. The journey was as worthy as the destination, and if Owen could have prolonged it forever, he would have. But neither of them had stellar stamina at the moment, and that was all right too.
Owen was teetering at the edge but not quite tumbling, one hand in Keaton’s hair and the other working Keaton’s cock, and Keaton mirrored his movements.
Keaton gave a throaty little chuckle. “I forgot I could do this.” And immediately afterward he gently pushed his sensations of pleasure and arousal into Owen.
It was magnificent.
They cried out in tandem, came in unison. Then they lay next to each other, their breathing in sync as well.
“I would definitely like to do that again,” Keaton said. “And again. If my heart gives out, I will die a happy man.”
“How about we have showers and a meal first? And how about we stay alive?”
Keaton clasped Owen’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “I think I’d like that.”
They ended up showering together,which was fun—and something Owen had never done before. Keaton was trim except for a bit of a belly that Owen liked very much. He was also nicelyhairy. He was briefly a little embarrassed over Owen’s close scrutiny until he realized how much Owen liked what he saw. At which point Keaton preened. “I was happy when I graduated from twink to otter, but by then there was nobody around to appreciate it.”
