I watch the streetlights go dark, see how the last lingering of shines on my lover’s back. He stirs; moves and stretches, and I see the light move in turn. I kiss it. He turns, lets the light slice his face, sliding over the pink bump on his throat.
“Di'ja need somethin’, Sammy?” He whispers, eyes flashing in the darkness.
I cup his face with my hand, feel sleep-warm skin burn on my fingers.
“You alright?” His voice is unbearably soft, and I drag it out with a kiss, feeling the emptiness of the room behind us. Darkness, leering at me from every fucking awkward corner and bathroom mirror. The unreality of the space is unbearable; constant and pounding in its heavy yellow tones and cigarette stench.
I kiss harder, closing my eyes tight and enjoying how the other man warms and yields beneath my mouth and soon, my fingers.
“Fuck, sam, what’s up with you?” He moans into my mouth. It’s almost beautiful in the second before he commits to worry; when he’s selfish, demanding, and trusting.
I didn’t want to tell him about the nightmare, I wanted only to enjoy the orange of the streetlights and the warmth of his skin. I focus on the moment now, how I feel the throb in his underwear just from kisses and light caresses. He pushes me away, lets my face rise above to meet his, and looks at me in that constantly irritated way of his. I look back, wide-eyed, letting my expression show my desire to get past the niceties and the furrowing of his brow. The emptiness of the hallways in my dreams lingers in my head, crowded and empty all at once.
“Let’s turn on the tv for a bit longer.” He whispers, one careful rub of my arm before he gets up.
I lay back, move up the bed and wait as he surfs for a channel that’s not dead yet. Midnight movie, he grins back at me. I spread my legs a little under the blankets, letting my calves rest flat. I usually hate asking, but I can’t help the burn and let him see something halfway between a stretch and a beckon. He looks from my cock up to my face as he turns back and begins to settle back on the bed.
“Looks like someone woke up with you, Sam.” He laughs, moving over me.
I smile sheepishly, a blush blooming on my face, and wrap my arms around his strong back. I bury into his shoulder, let him kiss and suck at my exposed neck. He is more gentle than normal, and something in me knows he could feel the tension of my nightmares through my skin. He smiles against me, leaning back to wrap an arm around my back and kiss my forehead before he begins to move down. I’m grateful for his sometimes quiet nature more than ever at this moment, for not asking questions. My cock aches, straining against my briefs and more through the soft pajama pants. He pulls both down gently, stroking over the muscle of my thighs and letting me enjoy the shame of my precum sliding over my legs from my underwear.
I hiss at the first feeling of his tongue against me, letting my head settle back against the pillows. He licks, sucks, sliding his tongue from the base to the swollen head.
“Not much point,” I whine, and he shushes me. A warm fist grips me, pumping very slowly. He slides with so much care, sliding my cum over me again and again. It reminds me of his stories from work. The slow grind, the toil; work. I start to tear up.
He wraps his lips around the head, sucking soft and slow before beginning to slide down. I groan deeply, the noise loud enough to hear for the time he’s been touching me. He bobs his head once, twice more before he pulls off to nuzzle and look up at me.
“You have no idea how much I love hearing that.” He smiles, genuinely, warm, kind. I try to smile back before I have to close my eyes. He resumes, the place of sinking and I enjoy the warm heat of his mouth.
I have to whisper still, feel my throat go numb and hoarse with the effort. “That feels so fucking good…” I whimper, feeling him giggle and moan when I thrust up at the vibration. I can’t help but laugh, quickly covering my mouth with my hand and letting my head fall back into the pillows again. He reaches, pulls my free hand forward blindly until I can take the hint and rest my hand around the back of his head, and pull him closer.
“Jesus fuck!” I moan, when he swallows and I pull him even tighter to drag out his thrust. He’s sloppy, mouth burning with inexperience and eagerness to please. He’s too cocky, torturous in every movement because he has no fucking clue what he’s doing but believes he is. He sucks a man off like he was pleasuring a girl, treats my body like he would a woman’s. His hands stroke me, rolling along my hips and slipping back under my torso. He moves his hands down, sliding back over my ass and playing at my hole. I can’t help my sounds, the whining that I know makes him throb in turn. I can’t help the blissful grin, it burns so.
I feel myself enjoying every sensation, warm tightness building in my stomach, and every stupid bob burning my cock. I’m still held in his mouth; obscene sounds and the drag of his tongue against me. He begins to slide a hand up over my stomach, feeling the ache and tightness building in it, and I whine when I feel his fingers tighten on a nipple. I can feel the grin on his mouth as he pinches hard and I cum with a disgustingly wanton scream.
I see him pull back for a second, the force of cum in his throat still so new to him. I can’t look right at him, closing my eyes and breathing slow as he swallows and licks my still-twitching cock clean. “Fucking Christ, Sam. You needed that, eh?” He leans over me, and I see the exhaustion and pleasure in his soft, pudgy face.
I kiss him, pull soft, wet lips to mine, and move with him to settle back into bed. His mouth feels so perfect against mine, soft tongue still holding the last taste of myself I’ll get in anyone else. He smiles against me as I breathe heavily.
“I just needed you,” I whisper.