
Instinctive Harmony
by BA Tortuga
Connor arrived in the United States the way countless other Irishmen had over the last century. On a boat.
Luckily for him, the freighter he was on paid well for unskilled labor, and he had a handful of the unfamiliar paper money in his pocket as he wandered into the city. Baltimore had seemed like it would be smaller than Boston or New York, but it looked huge to Connor, who had rarely even been let out of his cage long enough to see a tree or some grass.
The noise...the noise was like the pit on the busiest fight of the year. It made him wince, made him hunch down in his sweater and peacoat, his watch cap pulled low over his eyes, hiding his scarred face in the dark.
People paid him no mind, for which he was grateful, but he still had no idea where he would lay his head this night, or how to put food in his rumbling belly.
The pubs were scattered along the street, some bright and busy, others dim, people slinking in and out, smelling of ale and grease and flesh. The further he walked, the fewer dim taverns he saw and the more bright lights poured out on the street.
People were coming and going, laughing, giddy with food and drink and the hope of fucking and...
Damn it straight to Hell!
A door swung open, nearly catching him right in the face, rocking him back on his heels. A tall, lanky bastard hurried out, dark hair flying, something in his hand, completely ignoring him.
A growl rose in Connor's chest and he took a step forward without even thinking, his hands clenching and unclenching as he invaded the man's space.
"Oh. Oh, shit. Man, I'm sorry. I tripped on the stairs and hit the door going ninety to nothing. I didn't hit you, did I?" He got a visual of long arms and legs and huge dark eyes, long coat fluttering like a dying bird.
The voice seemed too quiet for the loud street. Too gentle. Connor didn't think he'd ever heard the like of it. "No. No, you didn't. Sorry."
"Oh, good. I hit that crooked stair and whoosh. Too long legs and too short stairs." He got a quick grin, a wink, a nod.
Connor backed up two steps, staring at the man's face. A wink. Well, that was... Huh. He shook his head like he'd been hit. The little nuances of human kindness still escaped him.
"You sure I didn't whack you one? You okay?" One hand landed on his arm, steadying him.
"No. No, I'm fine." He tried not to growl, the touch making him jump, making him expect pain.
"Okay. Cool. Sorry. Again." The man patted his arm and turned toward the sidewalk and the lights, case swinging, the black shiny in the lamplight.
His mouth opened to, to what, to ask the man where he might stay the night? Connor clamped his mouth shut. No. He'd not ask. That lead to owing a body something.
What he did do, what he couldn't help doing, was follow the man down the street, watching him move in the night.
The man whistled, wandered, bouncing a little bit as he walked. Every now and again those dark eyes would look back at him, bright as a magpie's.
All he needed was a flute and he could be the Pied Piper, making Connor follow him somehow. He didn't wish to scare the man. He just...didn't know where else to go.
Finally those long legs stopped, stepped out of the flow of people, those eyes on him again, waiting on him to catch up.
His feet slowed, but he kept going, not willing to make the fellow nervous by pretending he wasn't following. Connor lowered his own eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to..."
"It's cool. You want a beer? You look... new." He got another smile, the lack of threat here unnerving as anything.
"A beer." Well, that would be something in his belly. He had money. Maybe he could get this man to show him how to get food. "Yes, I would."
Connor tilted his head, breathing in the man's scent. "What's your name?"
"Adrian D'Angelo." A hand was held out to him, lean and delicate and fine. "Nice to meet you."
"Connor." He thought about what his last name ought to be. He'd never be calling himself by his old master's name again. "Connor Derry. Pleased to meet you."
"Hey." The smile widened, Adrian's head cocking to one side. "What's your position on pizza with your beer? I've been in rehearsals for hours and I'm starving. Papa Gino's rocks."
"Pizza." He felt like a dolt, repeating the man's words. "Is there meat on that?"
"Can be. Doesn't have to be. I'm not a vegetarian, though, so I hope there is. Sausage. Beef. Pepperoni. Ham. I'm easy."
"Ham. I like ham." He never got beef, even though he'd won every one of his fights. He'd had sausage more than once... "Then I would be glad to go with you."
His stomach rumbled loudly, embarrassing him.
"Cool. Me too. So, where are you from? You have a great voice -- like music." They started moving again, toward the lights and the crowds, Adrian fearless. "I'm from California, originally, then Oklahoma, then Boston. Now here."
"Like music? Really? I'm from Ireland. I... I just arrived, really." He stayed close to Adrian's back, just like he was on a leash.
"Oh, wow. Ireland? Really? Did you like it there? All the pictures I've ever seen were so green, so pretty." Adrian held back, pointing to a glass door. "There it is. Papa Gino's. Let's go sit."
"It's very green. And wet. Is it wet here?" Maybe he could live above ground here. Not down in the cavern-like cages. Connor blinked, smiled. He could do whatever he wanted, couldn't he, then?
The restaurant smelled like spicy meat and like something...red. Red and good. It made his mouth water.
"Sometimes, but not all the time. It's a nice place. I like it. God, that smells good. Do you like fried cheese sticks? My treat. I'm starved." They sat together at a little table, the scents just hitting him from every angle.
It was all he could do not to get up from the rickety little chair that almost refused to hold him and sniff all over. That might make him stand out, though. A bit. "I'm very hungry," was all he said, smiling tentatively.
"Yeah? Well, then. We'll get a large pie and cheese sticks." Adrian slipped off the long coat, giving him a scent of male, pure need.
His senses snapped to attention, his cock rising in his trousers. Oh, God. Connor plopped a napkin there, hiding under the tiny table as best he could. "That sounds good."
Though he wasn't sure what pie had to do with this pizza thing.
"Excellent." Adrian waved someone over -- someone who smelled much less sexual, more like food and red and spice -- and started talking, hands waving, eyes just sparkling. So alive, so hungry and happy.
Connor was absolutely fascinated. So much, in fact, that he missed what Adrian had just asked him. "Hmm?"
"Is Miller Lite okay? Or do you want a Guinness?" Adrian blushed, cheeks bright pink. "I don't know what kind of beer you like in Ireland."
"Oh, I..." He knew Guinness, but he had also heard from the sailors that it was expensive here. "I... The Miller is fine." Gracious. He was acting an idiot.
"Yeah? Okay. Two Millers and two orders of cheese sticks. We're hungry." Adrian didn't seem in the least bothered by him, the quick smile landing on him again. "Did you come in on a boat? A ship? Whichever. I mean, is there a difference?"
"There is." That he knew, too. Somehow Connor thought it impossible to grow up on an island and not know. He could remember, once, way back when he was a growing lad, his father or grandfather or...someone, had been a fisherman. "A ship, I came on. A vast one."
"Wow. It always sounds so romantic, working on a ship. I know it can't be, but it's nice to think of it that way -- fun and free and windy and wavy."
"It's hard work." But good work. Decent work. The beer sat in front of him looked pale, but it smelled like beer, and tasted like the same with a good deal of water mixed in. "I liked it."
"Yeah? Cool. I'm a musician, so I probably don't work hard, but it feels like it after eight hours."
Oh. Oh, the man made music. Connor almost bounced, but he feared the chair. "There's nothing in Ireland we admire more."
That just made that smile wider, brighter. "Oh, cool. I love it, you know? Playing. It's fabulous."
Two paper bowls were put in front of them, steaming. "Careful, they're hot-hot."
They smelled like grease, and like soft cheese, and that red smell. Connor watched Adrian, wondering what he was supposed to do. "What do you play?"
Adrian picked one up, dipped it in a cup of... red, then bit carefully. "Violin. I've been playing since I was four years old."
"I like the fiddle."
He knew that wasn't necessarily the same, but it was close. Connor dipped one stick thing in the red sauce and bit into it, his eyes going wide. Oh. The red was sweet and spicy and a little thick and oh. Good.
Adrian nodded over, seem to understand. "They've got the best marinara sauce, huh?"
A little crunchy, a little soft, and very, very tasty. "Yes. They do. Thank you."
Adrian nodded, eating with gusto and giving him leave to do the same. Hot. Rich. Good.
Then the pizza came.
Adrian groaned. "Oh, that looks fabulous."
He washed down the last of the 'marinara' with his beer, looking mournfully at the little cup. Then he sniffed. There was more. On the pizza. Oh, good. And meat. Three different kinds of meat. Connor nearly tore into it with his teeth, like the wild animal he was, but at the last minute he remembered where he was.
He watched Adrian take a slice, fold it in half and start eating, the marinara bubbling out the top onto the long fingers.
Connor moaned a little, reaching for a piece and doing the same, the flavor of it exploding in his mouth. Dribbling down his chin, as well. "S'good."
"Uh-huh." They managed two pieces each before Adrian waved for two more beers and more napkins. "Almost as good as cheesecake. Maybe as good."
"Cheesecake?" Oh, he had been deprived if there was something else as good as this. "I had cream tarts once. They were almost as good as this."
"Cream tarts? Like cream cheese or whipped cream?" Adrian leaned close, grinned. "There's a place a few blocks down? Caramel cheesecake. Oh. My. God."
His eyes went wide again. Adrian smelled better than marinara. That was saying quite a lot. "I... We... I would like to try it."
"We should. After we finish our pizza." Adrian nodded, stretched, knee bumping against his. "Where are you staying? Do you have family here?"
"No. No family." When had he last had family? He couldn't remember. "I said I'd just arrived, yeah? I'm not sure where I'll stay."
"That would really wig me out, not knowing where I was going to sleep. I have a little apartment -- nothing fancy, just a place."
"I'm sure it's a good place." Connor smiled. He would bet this man's place was full of little fluttery things, colorful and floaty. They would tempt him to play. "I will find somewhere."
"Yeah. I... Yeah." Adrian pinked, nodded. "But not right this second, huh? We have pizza to finish and dessert to hunt."
Hunting. He was good at that. "Yes. Cheese Cake." Though he imagined a Christmas cake with a clock of cheese on top.
"Yeah. Caramel cheesecake." Adrian lifted his beer, saluting him. "I'm glad I almost ran into you, Connor. I'd have missed a great supper, otherwise."
"I am glad I met you as well." He would have gone hungry for certain. The ordering food and beer seemed so complicated. "Thank you."
Adrian's laugh was soft, warm, not in the least cruel. "I'll try to run into you again."
His cheeks heated, but he could not help but laugh in return, the sound rusty as an old gate. "I will look forward to it, Adrian. I truly will."
\*\*\*
God, he was losing his mind. Really. Truly. Losing it.
Laughing over cheesecake and coffee and flirting like mad with a guy who look like he'd been in a war. Oh, man. Ireland. Uh... They had bombs and shit there. Didn't they? At least they used to. Adrian sort of remembered that whole Catholic/Protestant exploding thing.
That would probably suck, getting blown up, and if that wasn't a perfect excuse to be nice to a perfect stranger, Adrian didn't know what was.
He held out a bite of turtle cheesecake. "Here, try this too. It's almost as good as yours."
Sharp-looking white teeth bit the bit of sweet right off his fork, tongue catching the little bits of crust that tried to crumble away. Connor blinked. "Oh. Good."
"Mmhmm. It is." He liked Connor's face. It was stupid, he knew it, and he also knew it was partly Connor's voice because it was like music, but there was something that just...
His cock jerked a little, made him shift. Yeah. That.
Really, the man's face looked like he'd been a brawler back home. Scars, faint enough that they must have been inflicted years ago, wandered across cheeks and nose in random, fascinating patterns. His nose sat off center, his lips were not too full or too narrow, and Connor had the truest, oddest gray eyes Adrian had ever seen.
And of course, the man was huge and wide, roped with muscle.
Just odd and interesting and yummy.
He leaned back, trying not to admire too hard, because Connor could snap him like a twig and he had to play Marriage of Figaro on Friday.
Those thirty-second notes would be a bitch to play if he was dead.
The last bite of Connor's cheesecake disappeared, the man sitting back to sip his hot tea. Such an odd thing, to see those big hands going through the motions of the teabag and the little pot that came with hot water.
"So why did you decide to come to Baltimore? New York too busy? Boston too cold?" He grinned, pouring cream in his coffee. "And if it's none of my business, just say so. I'm just curious as a cat. Everybody says so."
"A cat, hmm?" That seemed to amuse Connor to no end, a huge, true smile spreading across his face. "Figures. It seemed a good place. Boston's cold, yeah? New York is enormous."
"Bitter cold, yeah." He grinned back. "Yeah, the competition in New York is insane. You can just play here. Live. Enjoy yourself."
"That's what I thought, too." Grinning, Connor stretched, sending muscles sliding under the ratty fisherman's sweater. "Well, I thank you for this. The Cheese Cake was lovely."
Connor said it as two distinct words, like it was a special thing.
"Anytime. I enjoyed it. A lot." Connor wasn't terribly chatty, but everything the man said sounded so exotic. "Do you have a girlfriend back home? Waiting for you, I mean?"
Not smooth, but not completely retarded. Go him.
"A girl...no. No, I don't. I've no one." Connor looked almost baffled by that.
"No? That's cool. I mean, you're in a new place now and you are available..." Okay, sliding toward complete moron. Stop. "How's the tea?"
"It's weak." He got a wry little grin. "One thing I always got even when times were bad was good strong tea."
"Strong tea? Do they make strong tea?" He teased, foot just barely rubbing Connor's toe.
Connor jumped a little, eyes wide, a ring of much darker gray appearing in those pretty eyes. He felt Connor press right back. "They do. Enough to etch steel. But then, we put milk in."
"So you're really drinking coffee in tea bags?" Oh. Oh, cool. Flirting. He could do flirting.
"Oh, no. Coffee has a whole different flavor." Those hands turned the teacup round and round, the backs of Connor's fingers just as scarred as his face, only deeper, more harsh.
"You sure? Maybe you should try a sip of my coffee, just to make sure."
"I'm sure." Their ankles clunked as Connor's foot slipped a little too close. A blush stained those pale cheeks, Connor looking determinedly at the tabletop.
Adrian took his fate in his heads, purposely brushed their ankles together again before offering the last bite of his cheesecake.
Connor took it, chewing slowly, foot rubbing against his over and over. "Have you a girlfriend? Someone special?"
"No. I'm not the girlfriend type." He lifted his chin, the silver chain with the rainbow of little rings visible. "And my last boyfriend left me for a trucker heading west."
Connor titled his head, staring at the necklace for long moments. Then his words seemed to register. "A trucker...well. That. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, how cool could he have been if he left me for a growly old dude with no teeth?"
That surprised a laugh out of Connor, and it made Adrian sad that it sounded so disused. Then Connor sobered, the foot flirting slowing. "My last...friend. He died."
"Oh..." He reached out, stroked Connor's wrist. Oh, that just bit the big one. "Oh, man. I'm so sorry. That sucks so hard."
The pulse under his thumb began to race. "I... It was not unusual, where I'm from. Young men die."
"Yeah? You must come from a rough place. I mean, there are gang bangers here and shit, but it's not common."
"I left for a reason." Connor scratched one long scar on his cheek with his free hand, the other staying captive under his. "Are you...am I keeping you? Not that I want you to go. I just..."
"No. No, I was just going home to watch some TV. Relax. Would... Are you? I mean, I have tea bags at my apartment..."
Connor's mouth opened, tongue pink and wet where it touched his lips. "I... That would... Yes?"
"Excellent!" He nodded, grinned. "Cool. That way we can hang out and you can teach me what real tea tastes like."
"I could, yes. If you have milk?" Connor dug in his pocket and came out with a handful of bills. "Can I pay for this?"
"I do and you can, but be careful, huh?" He reached out, pulled a twenty. Man, right. Different money. Uh. Shillings and shit? "I'll give you a quick U.S. currency lesson at my house."
"Okay." Nodding and smiling, Connor stuffed more than Adrian's monthly wages back into his front pocket, bouncing up like a happy puppy.
He grabbed his case with one hand, Connor's arm with the other. "Come on, I have a little loft -- nothing fancy, but solid and pretty."
Connor followed, hesitating a tiny bit when they hit the street again, looking almost panicked. "So much noise," Connor murmured.
"It is loud, isn't it?" He nodded, squeezing Connor's arm. "That's one great thing about my place. I put acoustic tiles up everywhere. It's so quiet."
"Oh..." Sounding almost reverent, Connor started them moving again. "That sounds wonderful. Not that it's quiet where I'm from, but this traffic and people and all. It's very different."
"I'd love to hear about it. Do you like music? Like singing? With your voice I bet you're great." They wove down the street, in and out of the crowds.
"I've never really tried, I suppose." Staying close, Connor sort of...loomed over him. It was kind of cool.
"You should. You'd be excellent." He dared to lean a little closer, touch.
"It would sound like the howling of a wolf, I imagine." One big hand ghosted over the small of his back, brushing lightly.
"No. And that sort of a music, huh? Kind of?" He shivered, stepping closer, drawn.
"Oh, I like traditional music. I'm just not sure I could carry a tune without sounding like a beast." Warm. Connor felt huge and warm and hard-muscled.
"We'll just have to try it." He whistled a jig, one that he'd learned back in grade school, just enjoying the heat, the closeness, the strength of the man beside him.
A warm chuckle floated to him on the night, Connor humming right along. Oh. That was a sweet voice. It really was.
They made their way up to his building, then up the three flights of stairs, Connor close, almost helping him up the narrow stairways.
He'd bet the man could carry him with no more problem than he would carry a fly. It was kinda weird. But good. They got inside, and Connor looked around, nose twitching.
It was kind of wild -- the ceiling was draped with feathers and ribbons and little lights, the walls were covered in scores. He had a few big pieces of furniture, but mostly he had bean bags and pillows and shit. Casual stuff. Light stuff. Easy to move stuff.
Connor grinned at him, wide and white, pulling the watch cap off his head, finally, showing close-cropped black hair. "I like it."
"Thanks. I do too. I'll put your coat in the closet, if you want?" He shrugged his own coat off, put the violin away, pottering over to turn on the stereo. No messages on the machine.
"Oh. Thank you." The peacoat smelled of man and something like charcoal, and like the sea. Deep and salty and musky. It was a good smell. "Where should I sit?"
"Down." He grinned at the confused look on Connor's face. "I'm not formal. Just find a comfy spot and snuggle in."
"Oh. Fair enough."
Connor wandered, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking at everything, laughing at this and that.
Adrian plopped down on a soft corduroy beanbag, cuddling in with grin. "Man, I'm full. That was a good pizza."
"It was." Connor sorta bounded over, plopping down beside him on a big plaid floor pillow, hand right next to his hip. "I like marinara. A lot."
He rolled a little, facing Connor, eye to eye. "Yeah? Not big in Ireland, huh? Well, anytime you want a pizza partner? You call me. I'm in."
"I will. I have no idea if it's big there. I come from, um, a small town." Up close the scars were just fascinating, like a map of the man's life.
"There are a lot of college kids here, so there's small town people too." He reached out, petted Connor's scars, touch light. "Do they hurt?"
"Not any more, no." Those eyes told him everything, from happy to now the memory of pain. He wondered if that was why Connor tended to hide them. So pretty.
"They're fascinating, you know? I mean, really." He kept touching, sort of taking faith in the fact that Connor hadn't bashed it.
"They're like badges, I suppose." He felt the little laugh that huffed out at that, even as Connor leaned into his touch.
He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, that made sense. He moved closer, heart beating a hundred beats a minute. Maybe a hundred and twenty.
One big hand cupped his head, Connor drawing him down until their lips met, making it seem so easy. As shy as the man was about everything else, in this he took the lead, humming against Adrian's lips as they kissed.
Oh. Oh wow.
It was simple, to cuddle over, move closer. Oh, man. That strength wasn't a tease. At all.
Connor's other hand settled on his waist, pulling him closer, pulling him over on top of that broad, heavy body. The heat just seared him. He moaned into Connor's lips, tongue sliding in to taste sweet and spice and heat and mmmm...
The kiss ended gently, not quite flowing into a other as Connor pulled back a little, still close enough for Adrian to see each whisker on his chin. "Is this all right?"
"More than all right. Can we do it again?" He rubbed his nose against Connor's, grinning.
"We can. I thought I should ask." Connor licked his lips before kissing him again, tongue pushing at him a little, sweet and good.
It was fascinating, the way the kisses slowly built up, moving from warm and sweet to almost hot.
Then there was no almost about it as Connor's legs fell open so he could slip between, Connor's hardness pressing against him as the kiss went unbearably deep. He moaned, hips pushing against Connor, rocking at little, both of them finding a rhythm.
"Mmmm." A low growl, throaty and dark, escaped Connor's mouth. It vibrated right through him, rumbling in Connor's chest.
Oh, he liked that. His hands flattened against Connor's belly, exploring the ripped muscles, hoping to get more sounds. He liked that a lot.
He got them. There was no purring, just this deep bass sound along with the movement of Connor's body as he started arching up into Adrian's touch.
"You feel so good." He pushed down, fingers digging in, massaging. Connor smelled like... pizza. It made him grin. "You're so strong."
"I like your mouth." Connor smiled against his lips, loving on him. It was sweet. So sweet.
"Good." He chuckled. "I've never just picked someone up before. Honest. I usually do at least a date or two."
"Oh." Blinking, Connor stroked his back, hips still rolling up against his. "I have not dated much. But I promise I have not been loose."
"Well then, we're both not sluts, just incredibly attracted to each other and lucky." He nipped Connor's lips, tugging just a little.
Laughing, Conner nodded, licking at him, teasing right back. "We are, I'd say. Lucky indeed."
He managed to slip his hands under Connor's sweater, groaning low as he found skin.
"Mmm. Oh, that's a bit of right." Pushing at him, Connor rose up just enough, baring a wide, furred chest, covered in more scars, some faint and white, some still pink. Adrian bent down, tongue sliding along one scar, then the other. Fascinating. The hair tickled his tongue, irritated him. It must have tickled Connor too, the way they rocked as Connor laughed and curled up. "I thought they might disgust you."
"Shows you're strong. They're fascinating. And you taste good." He nuzzled Connor's belly, lips nipping and tickling.
Connor gasped, muscles rippling as he sucked his belly in. "Oh. Oh Heavens. You... Your mouth. Adrian."
"Mmhmm. Have great hands too. Years of practice, you know?"
"Years of...oh. Music." Another chuckle came before Connor started struggling with Adrian's shirt, trying to get him bare as well.
"Uh-huh. Music." He lifted his arms, knowing he wasn't as studly as Connor, but some guys liked long and lean. Maybe lots of guys.
"Pretty." Hands sliding on his skin, Connor stared, looking utterly taken with him, those eyes almost black.
Heat flushed through him and he arched, almost dancing under Connor's gaze. "Better than a toothless trucker?"
"Much, much better. There was this old...man, in Ireland, who had lost all his teeth in fights. Not attractive at all."
"You have strong teeth. Strong everything." He stroked Connor's belly again. "Fuck, you're sexy."
"You're the first man to say so." Long fingers tugged at his pants, worrying the button. "I would see all of you."
"You have to show me yours too." He sucked him, let Connor work his fly open, his cock pushing out like anything.
"Uh huh." Connor was staring though, reaching down to touch, thumb sliding over the head of his cock. "Soft."
"Hard." His laugh was all mixed in with a groan and a shudder. "Feels good. You have great hands."
"Mine, yours. They're all good." Connor took another kiss before moving his hips back to struggle with his own jeans, getting them undone. Oh. Talk about hard. And uncut.
"Oh..." He bent down, cheek sliding on Connor's shaft, caressing, inhaling deep to fill his lungs with that scent.
A deep moan was his answer for that, Connor's hands cupping his head. "Adrian. I've not... I'm not sure I can."
"Can what?" He nuzzled again, lips on the soft dark curls.
"Hold off. It's been a long while." He could tell that in the way Connor's cock jumped, leaked.
"Oh. That's okay. I'm not in a hurry to push you out." He started stroking, petting that pretty cock while his lips moved up toward Connor's nipple.
"Uh. Good." Panting, Connor moved against him, starting to pant. "Because I, oh, could get used to this."
"Okay." He wrapped his lips around Connor's nipple, sucking hard, tugging nipple and cock in time.
The tension coiled in Connor's body, the muscles under his thighs and hands and belly hardening, Connor's cock twitching. "Yes. Oh, yes."
Yeah. Man, it felt good to know he was making Connor make those sounds, that he was making Connor hard. Pushing into his hand over and over, Connor growled, rumbled, just made a whole new kind of music for him. Chest hair rasped his cheek, rough thighs cradled him, and the scent... pure animal. He bit down, just a little, enough to make it sting, thumb working the tip of Connor's cock, pressing into the slit. Every muscle in that big body went hard, vibrating, hot come splashing over his fingers and Connor cried out, the sound surprised, shocked.
"Oh. Oh, you smell so good." He just rubbed, humming low, cock sliding and slipping against one strong thigh. So fucking good.
"So do you..." Moaning, Connor turned them so they were on their sides, face to face, so Connor's big hands could grab at him, could pull his cock, even as those lips found his throat.
Everything in him was humming and buzzing, just ringing out, so perfect. Adrian arched, moving frantically between hand and mouth, his cries just ringing out. His blood rose hot and stinging beneath Connor's lips; that was gonna leave a mark for sure. That hand. God, it was huge, cradling his cock, stroking faster and faster.
"Good. So good." He wasn't anything close to a quiet lover, pleas and cries rising up and up as his hips pumped faster.
"Yes. Oh, you smell. Hot. Good. Your skin. Adrian." Those sharp teeth tested him, but only just, nowhere close to breaking the skin.
The sting made him gasp, pushed closer. "Connor. I... Oh. Oh, wow."
His orgasm slammed through him, his head snapping back, body tight as a bow string.
"Yes. Oh, yes, sweet. Like that." Those eyes watched him, Connor petting and pulling, kissing his cheeks, his chin.
He sort of melted down against Connor, shivering as the aftershocks moved through him. "Oh. Man. Thank you..."
"Mmmm. Thank you, Adrian. For everything. Can I sleep here? With you?" They were already sort of...snuggling down, their come rubbing between their skin.
"Mmhmm. Absolutely. We'll make bacon and eggs for breakfast. It'll be cool." He reached out, tugged an afghan off the end of the bed. If Connor was a serial axe murderer, he was a monkey's uncle. "You can make us tea."
"I can. And I can wash your back when we bathe. I'm very good at that." Connor just sounded so pleased, curling around him, nose buried in his hair.
Adrian nodded, humming along to three or four bars of the recorder suite of the Suite in A minor before he dozed off, warm and cozy as hell.
\*\*\*
Warm. Soft pillows beneath him, a warm body wrapped about him. Connor had not felt the like since he was a lad. He thought perhaps he dreamed, like a pup running after hares in his sleep. But the body against his was, while not heavy, solid and hot and distinctly smelled of Connor's mark, his come.
Blinking, he opened his eyes. Adrian. Oh. Sweet boy. No, not a boy. A fascinating man.
Connor watched as Adrian breathed deep and even, admiring the long sweep of lashes.
Adrian's hand moved on his skin, even in sleep, petting him, stroking him. It was... fascinating.
He shifted under it, wanting to just lick Adrian all over. Hmm. Not such a bad idea, that.
"Mmm..." Adrian stretched, cheek rubbing against him, dark hair silky and slick. "Morning."
"Morning." His belly rumbled, making him decide the licking ought to wait until he'd eaten or he might gnaw a bit on Adrian.
He got a chuckle, Adrian's lips brushing his nipple. "Somebody's hungry. You like bacon and eggs?"
"Oh, yes." He could just see the thick, pink slab of bacon and a nice pair of fried up eggs. "Potatoes?"
"I got hash browns from Ore Ida." Adrian pushed up, kissed the tip of his nose. "You have tea and toast duty."
"I can do that." He could. He could make tea, and toast he vaguely remembered. Connor grabbed Adrian back to him, kissing him hard. "Lovely."
"Mmm... You are. I liked waking up with you." Adrian stood up, stretched up tall. Oh, pretty. Long and lean and... pretty. "You want some sweatpants to wear? Something cozy?"
"Yes, that would be nice. I have my sweater, but some soft pants..." he would like that. Connor got up himself, wondering where the head was. He'd learned about those on the ship.
"I've got some stuff that'll fit. If you need to clean up, the bathroom's in there." A pile of soft, warm black fleece was pushed into his hands, another kiss pressed to his mouth.
"Thank you." Well, that answered that question. Connor took his time, watching the faucet as he turned it on and off. Hot and cold water.
He could hear music and singing and banging in the other room. The sounds were happy and bright; they made him smile to hear them, made him bounce a little.
Of course, the smells that started a bit later did more than make him smile.
Something...oh. Something sharp and crisp and a little acrid, but something that made his mouth water. Connor finished washing Adrian's come off his belly before pulling on his sweater and brushing his teeth with his finger.
Then he went in search of Adrian and that SMELL.
Adrian was in front of the stove, something sizzling and bubbling, the kettle and a loaf of bread waiting for him. Adrian's ass wiggled a little, back and forth in time with the music. Oh, god. Out here it smelled better.
Drooling, he walked over and peered over Adrian's shoulder. "What is that?"
"Bacon. I made a whole package because it just looked so good. The hash browns are going too. I know how to fry eggs and scramble them. What kind do you like?"
"I like fried. With the yolks hard." He didn't really know any other way. "That smells. Oh. Good."
"Cool. I can do that." He got a wink, a grin. "In fact, half the time when I make fried eggs the yolks are hard, so it'll make me look like a better cook, huh? What do you need for the tea and do you make toast in the oven or toaster?"
"I... Oven. And the kettle is on? Where is the tea?" Stop staring at the bacon that wasn't bacon, you fool, and move.
"The tea is in that pantry there and I'll fill the kettle up. I rinsed it out." Adrian pulled four pieces of the not-bacon out, patted it dry before holding a piece up. "Want one?"
"Yes?" He took it, carefully because it was hot, and put it in his mouth. It crunched between his teeth, the flavor exploding on his tongue. Connor closed his eyes, humming. "Oh. Oh, good."
"You know it. We have a whole pound to share, too. Bacon is like... just the best for breakfast."
He nodded, struck mute. It was all he could do not to sit up and beg. Instead, he went to find tea, licking his lips over and over.
The door Adrian pointed him to hid a cabinet that was full -- completely full -- with fascinating bottles and boxes and bags. Tins and containers and bins. All food.
All.
Food.
"The tea's on the second shelf from the top."
Such pretty colors. There were boxes and bags and there were bottles of liquid in colors like the rainbow. He finally found tea, labeled for breakfast, in little bags. He could work with that.
Adrian moved around, grabbing this and that, popping first a bite of crispy shredded potato in his mouth, then another bite of bacon. "Here's the kettle. I'll help with the toast."
"Oh, I can do it." He shook it off, slicing thick pieces of bread to toast, looking at the oven. It was on, bless Adrian.
"I have butter. Do you want jelly or anything?" Adrian settled behind him, hands rubbing his back through the sweater.
"I like jam." He remembered jam, preserves that his mother made with fruit. Or he thought he did. The kettle boiled, and he grabbed the little pot he'd found in the pantry instead of the two mugs Adrian had laid out, dropping four bags in.
"Is jam and jelly the same thing? I have sweet strawberry stuff and grape stuff." Adrian peeked over his shoulder for a second, then when back to the bacon.
"That sounds fine." The variety astounded him. The cages seemed so distant. The bacon smell drew him, and Connor drifted back to the drying pieces as the toast browned and the tea steeped.
"You want another bite?" Adrian grinned, bumped their hips together. "Go for it. I haven't burned any."
"Okay." He took a piece and munched, humming. That was even better than than the marinara. And Adrian had cooked it for him. For them to share. He sniffed, wheeling to pull the toast out before it burned. In fact, it came out perfectly. "The tea should be done too."
"Cool! I have eggs and hash browns. We? Have a breakfast!"
Adrian put plates and glasses and a gallon of milk on the table, along with jars of jelly.
Remembering long-forgotten table manners had come hard, especially when his first contact with the outside world in...years had been rough sailors. But Connor tried to be polite.
Adrian sat across from him, all smiles. "Don't be shy. There's tons. Tell me how to drink my tea? Sugar? Milk?"
"Here, hand me your cup." Connor made up a cup of tea for Adrian, thick with milk, just a bit of sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. Perhaps Americans liked it sweeter, but he would try. Then he took some eggs. And some bacon.
"Try some potatoes too. They so rock." Adrian drank deep, tilting his head a little. "It's different. It's not coffee, but it's not bad."
"You like it?" He liked the potatoes. And the toast, thick with butter and smeared with strawberry jam. A man could live like this. He really could.
"Yeah." They split the food up, Adrian giving him the lion's share of the bacon and stealing the extra piece of toast. The whole time, music filled the room.
He liked the music. He liked that Adrian hummed happily as they ate, feeling the music. It made him feel safe, secure. "You have a good home, Adrian."
"Yeah? I like it. I have a nice view, the rent's not too bad, and I can walk to most of my gigs."
"Not just for that. The music. The bacon... I like it." The meal lay in ruins on the table, only tiny scraps left that Connor picked up with the tip of his finger and ate. "Good."
"Cool." Adrian scooted over, straddled his thighs, and bent down for a kiss. "Last night wasn't bad either, huh?"
"Last night was very, very good." And not just because of the red sauce. His hands settled on Adrian's hips as he took another kiss, moaning a little into it. No one had ever... Well, he'd not ever had time to explore, had he? Furtive couplings in the dark when the need came on them. Adrian was different.
Adrian didn't seem to be in any hurry, either, fingers stroking his shoulders and neck, one kiss turning into another into another.
He pushed at the soft fleece shirt Adrian wore, wanting to feel the smooth skin of his chest and belly again, wanting to see the sweet, tiny nipples and the obvious ribs. The bumps of Adrian's spine fascinated his fingers.
"Mmm... You taste good." Adrian leaned back; let him pull the shirt up and off.
"So do you. And you smell good." Like bacon, but also like male need, just as he'd scented the night before. Connor nuzzled right against Adrian's underarm, breathing deep.
Adrian hummed, shivering a little. "Not too stinky? I can take a quick shower, if I'm gross."
"No. You smell like me. You and me, together. And bacon." He grinned, listening to Adrian chuckle. He bit a little at the soft part of Adrian's inner arm.
"Toothy!" Adrian jumped, laughing now, that flat belly moving against him.
"Mmm. Yes." He didn't want to be too toothy, didn't want to scare Adrian. He would, if he got too wrapped up. Connor backed off, took a slow kiss.
The long body just melted against him, close and warm, cuddling in against him while happy sounds pushed into his mouth. He stroked Adrian's back, licking those sweet, jam-stained lips, his stubbly chin abrading Adrian's face. Adrian chuckled, chasing his tongue, playing with him, encouraging him to play right back.
He liked to play. He remembered play. Oh, how good it felt. Connor pulled away just long enough to shove his sweater off over his head.
"Oooh. Open belly!" Adrian laughed, fingers reaching for his belly, tickling a little, making him squirm.
Chuckling, Connor wiggled, nearly unseating Adrian. The chair creaked beneath them. "Gracious! We should move to the..." he flapped a hand. "The nest."
"Oh, I like that!" Adrian nodded, standing up, hands held out to him. "Play first, dishes later!"
"I'll wash them. I promise." He might lick them when Adrian wasn't watching. Connor rose, taking that long-fingered hand, smiling and pulling Adrian into a bit of a reel.
Oh! Adrian could dance! They danced through the house, both of them laughing and kissing as they headed for their little nest.
They tumbled down, Connor on the bottom, sort of shaking the floor. "Do you think we disturbed your neighbors?"
"Dance school downstairs. We're good." Adrian started tickling again, fingers quick and sure, maddening.
"Really?" That would be lovely, to have a whole dancing area for them to waltz. He would bet Adrian could waltz. Finally the tickling registered as Adrian hit a spot, and he all but howled.
"Oh, that's a great sound." Adrian pounced a little, lips hitting that spot, teeth stinging.
Connor chortled, rolled side to side, hands flailing. "Oh. Oh, stop. Please."
"Really stop? Or keep going stop?" Adrian's hair was tousled, surrounding his face like a mane.
When had he last laughed so? He chuckled and pulled Adrian to him, pinning those long arms. "I might hurt something."
"We wouldn't want that." Adrian nuzzled his throat, lips soft, warm, no teeth.
"No. I still have many kisses to share with you, sweet." He kissed Adrian, just to make his point, his tongue slipping in.
Those pretty lips opened up, tongue sliding against his, letting him in to taste, to feel. Those hands slid down his back, fingers stroking lazy circles. Hot and good, and Connor lost himself in it. He pulled Adrian atop him, hands cupping the tight, muscled bottom.
"Mmm. You feel good. Are you always so warm?" Adrian's lips met his, over and over, those eyes so big, so focused on him.
"I am." He was. The owner said that was part of why he healed so quick, the unnatural energy he produced. Pushing at Adrian's pants, he cupped that sweet bottom bare, now, hands squeezing.
"Good. I'm always chilly, so you feel amazing." It was stunning, how Adrian's hips rocked, pushing that ass into his hands.
Through his borrowed pants he could feel Adrian's cock, his own rising to meet it, pushing at the fleece. His nipples went tight as Adrian touched them, a low moan pushing out of his chest.
"That's... Adrian. Yes."
"Uh-huh." Adrian's fingers stroked, drawing his flesh up to a tight point, the pleasure surprisingly intense, sharp.
His whole body bucked and shook. This was nothing like hands and knees on a dirty floor. Connor reached between them, groping for Adrian's cock. He wanted to feel it again, feel that velvet skin.
Hot and full, Adrian's cock was wet-tipped and leaking, pushing right into his touch, stroking his palm.
Connor growled, loving the feel of it, the heft of it. What a wonderful man Adrian was, so eager, so hot for him.
"Oh. You have... You have the best hands. Really." Adrian grinned at him, eyes just huge. "Don't stop."
"I won't. I promise." As if he could now, with them riding the pleasure this way, with the need on him so hard that he thought it might actually hurt.
His thank you was in the form of a long, deep kiss, tongue pushing and sliding against his, making him jerk up, rub. Tightening his grip, Connor pulled harder, urging Adrian on, letting the man ride his hand. So beautiful.
Music filled the air, his mouth, Adrian shifting, hands sliding down his belly. His muscles trembled, his belly pulling in, his nipples hardening even more. Connor thought his cock might burst. "Adrian..."
"Uh-huh. I want to suck you, you know? You smell so good. You gotta taste good..."
"Yes. Yes, please." The thought of that sweet mouth around him, making a whole new music, had him arching, crying out.
Fingers wrapped around his cock, tugged even as heat sprayed against his hand. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, Connor."
He held Adrian close, watching the look in his eyes as Adrian came, raising his other hand to his lips to lick it clean.
"Uhn." Adrian's eyes seemed to get even darker, focused on his mouth. Then the lean body slid down, lips following the line of hair along his bellybutton.
God almighty. That had to be against all sorts of laws. It had to. Nothing should feel that good. Connor stroked Adrian's hair, smiling as he watched, the imagine of Adrian kneeling there one he wouldn't soon forget.
"Let me know what you like. I've never been with a guy that wasn't cut." Adrian's tongue flicked out, slid over his foreskin, tugging it, just a little.
He grunted, his whole body jerking. "I like that. I truly do."
"Good." Adrian's hair fell on his hips, his belly, the tips tickling as that tongue explored, pushing in and around and against.
His hips tried to roll up, his body needing to thrust, to rub, but Connor held his breath and held the urge back. He could so easily overwhelm this man. Instead he stroked Adrian's shoulders, his arms, murmuring praise. That pretty mouth dropped over his cock, lips pushing down, so slowly, suction just making his eyes roll. Then Adrian's hands got into the act, rolling his balls, stroking his inner thigh.
"Fuck!" His head lolled back, his hips rising against his will. He had to thrust. Simply had to.
Adrian didn't pull back, just took him in, hands sliding under his backside to tug him in deeper. Grunting, pushing up and up, Connor fisted his hands in the pillows, whole strings of nonsense words coming from him. So close. Adrian groaned, nose sliding in his curls, lips and tongue and the barest hint of teeth driving him mad, driving him farther and farther.
Finally he could take no more. Adrian's taste was still on his lips along with the man's name when he shot, everything in him spilling right into Adrian. The sweet suction eased, gentled, but didn't stop, just let the sweet sensations pour over him in waves.
"Oh. Oh, sweet. That was... Thank you." No one had ever treated him so.
"Mmhmm. Sweet." Kisses peppered his shaft, his hips, his belly. "I was right; you do taste good."
"Come and share with me?" Connor put his hands under Adrian's arms and lifted, remembering how good it was to snuggle the night before.
Adrian cuddled right in, almost purring, hands cradling his face as they kissed. Oh. Oh, good.
He rubbed his nose against Adrian's, relaxing back into the cushions. The dishes were still there and he needed to wash up, but they could doze a wee bit first, couldn't they?
He got a happy grin, Adrian settling right down, keeping them twined together. Yes, a bit of a nap was just the thing.
\*\*\*
Man, Trevor was being a bitch.
"Your staccato's not short enough, Adrian."
"Pay attention, Adrian."
"You're dragging, Adrian."
On and on and fucking on.
He needed a beer.
A beer and a nice fuck.
A beer, a nice fuck and pizza.
Mmm. Pizza.
He hoped Connor would be done job-hunting. Done and hungry and horny. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded perfect. Christ, it was getting cold. And windy. Man, he hoped it didn't rain.
The wind was really howling by the time he got to his building, just whipping up his coat. Wasn't this why he'd left Boston? There was someone else out there shivering with him, too. The biggest, fuzziest gray dog he'd ever seen.
"Oh... Oh, look at you!" He blinked, looked around. "Hey, pup! What're you doing here?"
There was no growling, no ear flattening, which he seemed to remember as a good thing. In fact, the cold, dripping wet mutt just walked right up to him and nudged his hip, looking up at him mournfully.
"Oh... You're soaked!" He felt for a collar. Nope. None. "Oh, man. Do you have a person out here? Because it's cold and wet and miserable and... Oh, man. I can't leave you out here. You'll get sick."
The dog licked his hand, moving closer, almost knocking him down.
Oh, man. He couldn't leave the pup out. No way. That face was... Too cute. "Come on. I bet there's something good to eat and I'll throw some towels in the dryer, huh? Warm you up? Man, I bet Connor'd love you. You didn't see him, did you?"
He unlocked the outside door and held it open, trying to entice the dog in. The dog padded right in, heading up the stairs, not shaking once he was out of the rain, which was a good thing.
"Oh, cool. Good boy." He hurried up, shivering something awful. "Man, I'm thinking tomato soup and bacon sandwiches might be the thing. We'll order pizza later."
A soft whuff answered that, the dog stopping right at his door, looking back expectantly. Oh, now that was kinda weird.
"Man, does it smell like me or something? Cool. Come on in. I'll find some towels and get you a bowl of water." He just sort of chattered as he went, stripping off his coat and putting the violin away before heading toward the bathroom to grab towels. Lots of towels.
That had to be the most polite dog he's ever met, because he stood right by the door, dripping gently on the welcome rug, just sniffing the air.
"You're a good boy. Man, you have to be freezing." He dumped a couple of towels in the tiny dryer and then used some of the other to start drying all that poor, soppy fur.
He ended up on his ass on the floor as the dog leaned against him, tongue lolling. Jeez, that was one heavy mutt. Bug and muscular.
Still, he couldn't help but start laughing, rubbing good and hard. "You are not a lapdog, are you? Pretty eyes, though. And so strong. I bet you're hungry, too, but I don't have shit for dog food."
He chuckling even harder when that rough-soft tongue scraped over his cheek, the silly thing looking like he was laughing too.
"Now, do I look like dog food?" He scratched the soft ears, stroked gently. "The answer to that is no, by the way. Not even a little."
Sitting back on its haunches, the dog grinned at him some more, panting as he finished drying. Then it got up and wandered right to the kitchen, sniffing at his fridge before hoisting up on its back legs to nudge at the freezer door.
"Oh, you do belong to somebody, don't you? I bet they buy that pricey organic food. I don't have any. Will you eat bacon? I have bacon. My boyfr... I mean, the guy that's staying here. He likes bacon. It's weird to call him a boyfriend, though, because this isn't high school. Thank god."
He pushed the pup out of the way and grabbed some bacon and some tomatoes and... Oh. Cheese. Dogs liked cheese.
The dog (who didn't give a dog some tags with his name on it?) sat back and started whining, licking his chops like crazy.
"Okay. Okay. Let me get a knife and I'll cut you some cheese. You can't have raw bacon though, because I'll gag. I'll cook it, but I'll share." He hacked off a hunk and held it out, frowning suddenly. "Please don't bite my fingers, okay? I have a gig in four days."
Sniffing at his fingers, the mutt took the cheese gingerly, not even touching his hand, chewing, sitting back and looking from him to the stove.
"Oh, you so rock." He chuckled and got the skillet out, whistling a little as he got the bacon going. Man, Connor wouldn't believe this.
He thought he was just gonna lose it when he started cooking. As soon as the bacon hit the pan the pup whined, wagging like crazy before backing off and going to grab a couple of the unused towels and drag them over to Adrian's beanbag, plopping them down before circling and lying down, nose to tail.
Oh, that was... Man, Connor should be here. He turned the bacon and then grabbed the warmed towels, draping them over the dog. "You just get warm. The food's cooking."
Could dogs understand talking? Surely so. They knew sit and walk and come on and shit and this dog sure listened to him.
A soft sigh came from the dog's chest, those eyes just watching him. He'd seen dogs do that when they were like, waiting for their owners to come out of a store or something.
"You just wait, okay? We'll figure out where your home is and until then, you can just stay here. There's room." He chuckled and wandered back to take the first slices out of the pan. "I'll have to buy more bacon, though."
He got a woof on that one, those ears perking right up. Man, that was one smart dog.
He opened himself a can of soup and plopped that in the microwave before putting bread into toast. "I don't remember anyone around here walking someone as pretty as you. Maybe there's a sign at the coffee shop, huh?"
The poor mutt waited patiently for him to finish cooking, only sitting up when he came over with his soup and toast and all. Even then he didn't try to steal any. He just sat beside the dog and shared because, well, it seemed to make sense and the poor thing liked his chair. His nest.
Thinking about that made him grin, made him think of that scarred face and strong hands.
They ate pretty darned companionably, the dog licking his bowl when he was done with his soup. Then the mutt proceeded to put its head down and doze right off, snoring a little.
Oh...
Poor tired guy.
Adrian occupied himself with smoothing the thick fur, making sure there weren't any knots, and waiting for Connor to get back.
Before he knew it, he'd hunkered down, dozing right off, fingers in the dog's ruff.
\*\*\*
Well.
Connor looked at his scratched up hands ruefully. At least he'd gotten out from under Adrian's arm without waking him. And he'd got into clothes. Now all he had to do was sneak to the front door and come in, like he'd been out. Except that he didn't have a key. Damn it all. He couldn't let himself in and the "dog" out without one, either...
He sighed. And sat at the kitchen table, idly picking bits of bacon out of the grease in the pan. Perhaps he might just get Adrian to forget the lack of a key by kissing him. Connor liked kissing Adrian a great deal.
They'd been asleep a long while. He'd bet Adrian would like pizza. He would order pizza. Adrian had showed him how to use the phone the night before.
Really, it was too damned bad that he'd panicked that day, the change coming upon him when he saw someone who looked like the owner's son, someone who was searching the crowd down by the docks, eyes black as the Devil's. Now Adrian might have to know what he was, and that...well. That would surely ruin it.
Adrian started moving, the little nest rustling and shifting. "Connor? Pup? Hello? Man, it got dark..."
"Hello, sweet. Did you sleep well? I ordered us pizza." Connor tried for normal.
"I did. Did... Did you let the dog out? I mean, I let this pup in. He was cold and wet. Big."
"He's gone now." Connor smiled, the confusion in Adrian's eyes adorable to him, the splay of that long body so inviting that he moved right over and cuddled up, pushing the damp towels that smelled like him who was not him away.
"Gone? Did his owner come? I'd hate for him to be cold... Oh. Oh, you're warm..." Adrian cuddled in, face lifting for a kiss. "How are you?"
"I had a tough day, sweet. But I got some work in. Got paid under the table." He could lift things, that was a certainty. He'd made a whole twenty dollars for an hour's labor. To get paid for his work... oh, it was a marvelous thing.
"Tough? I'm sorry. Rehearsal's sucked too. Just a shitty day all around." Adrian's hands stroked through his hair, petting him, stroking him.
"I'm sorry, Adrian. You could play for me, if it will make you feel better." He wanted that, would love to hear Adrian play.
"You wouldn't mind?" Those eyes were so dark, so close.
"Mind?" Connor nuzzled Adrian's chin, loving him a little. "No. I wouldn't mind at all. I would love it."
"Yeah? I'd love to. Really." Adrian stood up, wandering toward the closet where the violin was carefully kept. So pretty, the long line of back, the thin ass swaying back and forth.
Sitting back, Connor watched him, just...he could not even begin to describe what Adrian inspired in him.
Adrian moved easily, the violin shining in the long, sure fingers. A few notes sounded as Adrian wandered over to a stool, tuning up, getting ready. Then the music started, just filling the air.
Oh. Connor close his eyes a moment, letting it flow through him. Then he opened them, wanting to see Adrian, to watch. Such music had to come from the saints. It wasn't a saint, though. It was Adrian, playing, moving with the music, eyes fastened on him. Connor went, drawn by the music, to sit at Adrian's feet, one hand reaching out to stroke Adrian's leg. He swayed a little, in time with the music, humming along.
The mood moved from beautiful to happy, then to playful for while, making him smile. Then the play became teasing, sensual, wanton. His breathing quickened, his heart starting a slow, steady thumping. Connor smiled, bent to kiss Adrian's knee, feeling the bruise on the inside of his lip from running headlong into a wall earlier. He loved how the music changed, got a little faster, a little deeper, just from the kiss. He could smell Adrian from down here, musk and heat and salt and a hint of rain.
More than a hint of him, a primal, deep odor. The smell of home. The loose leg of Adrian's pants rose as he pushed at it, giving him skin to touch, to slip down and smell, lick. The sound hiccupped just barely, Adrian's moan drifting up above the music. Connor nibbled. He let his teeth scrape over Adrian's ankle, then his calf. Such lovely hot skin. Such fire.
"Connor." The music trailed off, Adrian panting, moaning low.
"Yes." What could he say but Adrian's name? He knelt up, reaching to pull Adrian down for a kiss. Just as the knock came on the door.
The pizza.
Adrian moaned, eyes rolling. "Food. Let me get the door. Hold her for me?"
The violin was placed in his hands, the wood smooth, warm.
It seemed smaller in his grasp. More delicate. Connor held it carefully, reverently. Such talent it took to draw beauty out of something that was really so simple. He wished, for a moment, that he had a talent for something other than violence.
Adrian paid for the pizza, the smell of pepperoni and cheese and marinara filling the flat. Then Adrian came over, smiled. "You look good, holding her."
"She? Why is the fiddle a she?" He smiled, handing the violin back as soon as Adrian sat the boxes down.
Adrian settled right behind him, warm and snuggling, chest to his back. "Because she is. Give me your hands a sec?"
The violin was placed under his chin, the bow in his hand, Adrian's fingers wrapping around his. "You looked like you wanted to try. We can do it together."
Connor blinked, looking at his huge, scratched and scarred hands, then at Adrian's hands, showing him the way. The tiny sound they made as the bow drew across the first time made him laugh aloud.
Adrian's laugh mixed with his, warm and happy. "Relax. Long, smooth motions."
The next sound was better. Wavery and odd, but better.
"So pretty." Soon they were making a song. Slow, off beat, but a song.
"Listen to us. Listen to you." Adrian sounded ecstatic, overjoyed.
"I know. I know, sweet. It's..." It was wonderful. Like nothing else ever. Connor let Adrian guide him, let him show him, until it almost sounded like it was supposed to.
His fingers were almost sore when Adrian put the bow down. "Oh, we'll have to do that again."
He looked at his fingers, noticing the red spots. "Your calluses are different than mine."
"Well, you work hard. I play." The violin was carefully wiped down, put away.
"Oh, bull." He hugged Adrian hard, kissing his nape. "Pizza?" They would eat. Before it got cold. Though he'd learned he liked it cold too.
"Pizza." Adrian snuggled right into him, humming happily. "We should eat."
"We should. You'll need your energy." He felt like he had fallen into someone else's life. The scare that afternoon had jolted him into seeing how he didn't deserve this. He'd run and run, just like a lost pup, finally deciding to turn around and come back. He couldn't give Adrian up, could he?
"Yeah? Good." Adrian was all smiles, hands sliding over him randomly. "The storm's getting worse; I'm glad you made it home."
"I am too." Belly. Yes, he could pet Adrian's belly, and he did, slipping his hand up under Adrian's clothes.
"I could feed you a piece. I think I can reach..." Adrian stretched, giving him more skin.
Connor let one thumb rub over Adrian's nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. "We can share. It will be like a movie."
"Mmhmmm..." Adrian's nipple drew up for him, wrinkled and tight like a little pebble. One piece of pizza was offered to him for a bite, the pepperoni smelling so spicy.
Connor licked his lips before taking a bite, the cheese and tomato (oh, heavenly tomato) taste bursting in his mouth, making him moan.
"Love watching you eat. I'm surprised it's not bacon pizza." Oh. Bacon pizza?
"They can do that?" He let that thought percolate for a minute. He might die of bliss.
"Oh, yeah. Bacon, beef, anything you want."
"Bacon..." He'd had bacon, though. "I love this place. So much better than..." he bit off, almost letting "the cage" slip out.
"Than?" Adrian got another piece, taking a bite.
"Where I used to live."
When he'd been the other, that afternoon, he'd thought about how good Adrian was, how safe, about how maybe he could tell him.
"It looks like it was a hard place. I'm glad you found your way here."
"So am I." He took another bite, savoring it. "There's pizza. And you."
"Violins and bacon."
"Pillows. Blankets." He chuckled a little, trying not to smoosh Adrian as he leaned against him.
"Uh-huh. Long hot showers with berry-scented shampoo." Adrian squeezed him, just a little.
"Mmmm. I like showers too. Not the kind we had today in the rain." That had been cold, so cold.
"Did you get caught in it too? It sure came down all of the sudden."
"I did. Got wet. But I found a warm place to dry out." He went back to petting Adrian's thighs, his arms, just touching everywhere he could.
"Good." Soft kisses brushed the hollow of his ear. "I wouldn't want you cold."
"No. You're a kind man, sweet. Even to lost dogs." His Adrian. His.
"Lost dogs deserve a home, just like everybody else." The kisses got a little longer, a little hotter.
Humming, he turned a little, his shoulder digging into Adrian's chest a little before he managed to get an arm free to prop up and slip to one side, facing Adrian, taking a kiss.
Mmm. Pizza-flavored Adrian.
Adrian's hand slid around his waist, slipped under his sweater.
The pizza box started to slide and Connor grabbed it, closing it with one hand and pushing it aside. They would eat later. He pressed Adrian back into their nest, kissing and licking, their noses and cheeks rubbing.
Adrian wrapped around him, loving on him, happy little moans just filling the air.
There. Yes. That was what he wanted. He needed it, after his day. Pushing in with his tongue, tasting, feeling.
"Oh. Man. I want you, yeah? In me? We'll stay warm."
"Uh huh. Yes. Please." Pushing up, Connor took off his sweater, pushing his soft pants down too. He wanted to feel skin.
Adrian shimmied out of his clothes, eager for him, cock full and hard. Hard enough that it slapped against Adrian's belly after getting caught on the elastic of Adrian's pants, making them both laugh. "See? Want."
"Yes." Connor stopped a minute, head tilting. He'd never been with a man except on hands and knees, back to front. He wondered...that seemed wrong for Adrian. "How...how do you... What do you like?"
"You. I like you, Connor." Adrian leaned back, arms open for him. "C'mere."
He went, nibbling at Adrian's neck, kissing at his Adam's apple, moving down to lick collarbones. Adrian tasted so good, so fine.
He fit so well, held by Adrian's arms, the long legs, hips rocking and tilting up, trying to tempt him.
There was temptation a man could pass up, and then there was Adrian. But they needed..."Do you have... I mean... I..."
"Yeah. In that goofy chest. Lube. Rubbers. Possibly a thing or two that would embarrass me." Adrian chuckled, winked. "I'll get them."
Right. Moving to one side, Connor let Adrian go, watching him. Hungry. Needing.
Adrian rummaged, pretty ass in the air, whistling as a tube was tossed over. He unscrewed the top, the slick cool on his fingers. Connor smiled. That would be much better than spit. He rubbed the wet stuff between his fingers to warm it, licking his lips as Adrian wandered back, prick red and hard.
"Does that work?" Adrian wriggled a little, eyes on his mouth, on his tongue. "Oh, man. Want you."
"Works fine, sweet. Now get over here." Connor reached up with his free hand as Adrian got close, sliding it up one long thigh and around to pull Adrian down on him.
He loved how Adrian melted against him, all smooth and warm and sleek. "God, you're warm."
"Mmmhmm. You make me warm. Really." He kissed Adrian, petted him, finally reaching back with his wet fingers and really touching, the tips brushing Adrian's hole.
Adrian responded like the man was born for him, arching back, stretching toward his touch. The happy little moan reminded him of the music he'd heard earlier.
Sweet, deep and heartfelt. Adrian was a song in himself. Connor hummed along with the tune, one finger working into Adrian's body, tight and hot and so wonderful he moaned.
Adrian's face was nuzzled into his throat, lips parted, tongue hot and wet, sliding on his skin.
"Oh, sweet. How you feel. Like satin." He'd seen a satin dress once; it was his mothers. She would sit by the fire and the fabric would warm and feel just like this.
"More, Connor. Please." He moaned at the soft plea, the need in Adrian's voice.
"Yes. More." He gave Adrian another finger, cautiously, afraid his big, rough fingers might be too much.
Adrian moaned, purring low, body starting to move faster. "More. Just like that. Just like that."
"Here?" He was not so good at this that he wasn't worried he'd foul up, but Adrian made him brave. Connor thrust his fingers in and out, his thumb pressing outside as well.
"Oh. Oh, yes. There." Adrian's teeth scraped on his shoulder, just grazing. "Yes, love."
He jumped, growled a little, the bite primal, good. It made him move his fingers faster, in and out, spreading the slick stuff, opening Adrian up for him.
"That's so hot." Adrian rocked faster. "So... right."
"Mmm yes. Love it." Finally his cock reminded him that he needed attention, too, and Connor licked at Adrian's cheek. "Are you ready?"
Adrian nodded, rolled over onto his back, knees up and spread. "Oh, yeah. Real ready."
Oh. His cock jumped, his pulse racing like he was readying for a fight. Connor rumbled, going up on his knees and taking more of the lube, slicking up his prick so he could push it against Adrian's hole. "Oh. Sweet."
"Yes. Hot. Oh, man, you're hot." Those fingers wrapped around his arms, holding on tight. Tugging at him.
"So good, sweet. So..." words failed him as he slid home, watching Adrian grimace, making a small, comforting noise. He'd not hurt this man for the world. Not ever.
"Oh. It's been awhile. So full." Adrian's eyes were huge, staring up at him. "Feels so good."
"Good? Not hurting?" He was panting, his eyes trying to roll, but he kept them on Adrian, kept looking as they loved. Taking it all in. Their scent made his cock twitch deep in Adrian's body.
"No. Not hurting. Don't stop. I want you, want more."
"Okay. All right." He began to move, in and out, his hips rolling. He bit down a little on Adrian's throat, licking to take out the sting.
"Oh..." That made Adrian jerk, body squeezing him just a little, making him gasp.
They moved faster, the urgency taking them. Sweat beaded and ran on his skin, steamy and good. His hands slipped on Adrian's hips and he clamped down harder.
"Yes. Yes, Connor. Love. I need..." They started slapping together, Adrian sliding beneath him.
Love. Connor nodded, head shaking wildly, and moved faster, moving his hands to rest on either side of Adrian's chest so he could brace himself for kisses, pressing down hard to trap Adrian's cock between them.
Adrian leaned up, mouth pushing against him, tongue sliding right in to taste him. Their kisses became wild, needy, tongues and lips coming together, both of them groaning at the sweetness of it. So different than anything before, so incredibly right. "I want to do this forever."
"Yes. Oh, yes, please." God above please let that be. Connor thrust harder, his breath heaving in his lungs. Adrian's fingers tugged him closer, low grunts pushing into his lips. Oh. Oh, close. Tight. Oh.
The movement of Adrian's body around him finally got to be too much, and Connor cried out, his head hanging between his shoulders, his hips snapping as he spent deep, deep inside Adrian's body.
Adrian whimpered, moaning against his skin, the wet heat on his belly proving that Adrian was right there with him.
For a moment he thought he would collapse down on Adrian, squashing him into the pillows and beanbags. But his arms finally obeyed his brain's command, pushing him off to one side, Adrian flowing right with him.
"Mmm... Thank you, Connor. Thank you." Adrian was kissing his collarbone, his neck.
"Oh, Adrian. I...Good. So." He just kissed Adrian hard, pouring all he'd not say into it.
Hands petted his head, his shoulders, his neck, playing music on his skin. Loving on him. Connor relaxed, sinking into the comfort Adrian offered, the sense of home. His place. His very own, where no one owned him and there was just music and laughter and bacon. And he'd managed to get through the day without Adrian asking about the dog.
Thank goodness for favors, large and small. Connor would take them all, and be glad about it.
\*\*\*
Adrian wandered around, watering plants.
Somehow, in the last six weeks, he'd gone from one dying ivy to ten... No, twelve potted plants sitting in windowsills, on tables. Everywhere.
Bizarre.
But incredibly cool.
"Hi, little ivy-looking-type plant. I'm assuming you need water. You're sort of wilty and Connor'll growl if you kick off like the last one."
Yeah, bizarre.
Connor had gotten work. It took him out, mainly in the wee hours, to unload trucks and boats and stuff, but today Connor had gone out about noon, mumbling about bacon and tomato pizza. Connor really liked that. When he heard the jiggling of the doorknob, he thought maybe Connor was back, had forgotten his key.
"Hey love. Just a sec. I'll open." He pottered over to the door, hitting the fern with a splash before opening up. "I watered the plants like you asked me..."
As soon as he had the door unlocked it burst open, sending him flying with, his watering can splashing everywhere. Two big, scarred men powered through, both of them prowling around the room as a smaller man in an expensive wool coat walked in, smiling at him almost kindly.
"What the fuck?" He stood still for half a second, then sprinted for the phone. 911. 911. 911.
One of the big guys growled, moving to intercept him.
"Get out of my house." Oh, fuck. Fuck. Come on. Phone. He shifted, willing to take the chance. "I don't have shit you want."
"Actually, lad, you have something that belongs to me." The little man advanced, taking off his gloves.
"Bullshit." He grabbed hold of the floor lamp, wielding it like a big, skinny bat. "I don't fucking know you."
"Nor will you, I imagine. But Connor belongs to me. And you will tell me where he is." Such a weird voice, sort of high and not quite...well. Human sounding. One of the bodyguards growled again, sounding like a big freaky dog.
"Connor?" Oh, fuck no. These must be assholes from wherever Connor got hurt. "Go to Hell. If I did know, I wouldn't fucking tell you psychopathic motherfuckers."
Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.
A tiny motion of the little man's hand was all it took for one of the bodyguards to start moving in on him, hands clenching and unclenching.
"Help me! Someone! Help me!" He swung the lamp, hitting one of the guys as hard as he could, the metal pole buckling.
He could feel bruises pop up the minute one of the guys touched him, and he was really starting to flail and panic when the door hit the wall again, a snarling, hurtling ball of fur shooting through to attack the man who held him.
"Help me. God." He kept hitting, kept screaming, kept fighting as hard as he could. Oh, god. Please. Make them go. Don't let them hurt his hands. Please.
The hands on him disappeared, leaving him staggering back, beating air. The gray, furry shape resolved itself into the huge dog he's taken in off the street, fighting like a mad thing.
"Oh, it's you. Thank god." He ran for the kitchen, grabbing the fire extinguisher off the wall. It was heavy. He could... bash someone with it.
Maybe the weird little guy in the fancy duds. He just stood back watching the one big guy and the...two dogs.
Two?
What the fuck?
He took the fire extinguisher and pulled the little pin. Okay. Maybe this one foamed. Maybe. He closed his eyes, pointed the fire extinguisher and squeezed.
It foamed. There was a shout a thud, and the sound of scrambling feet. Of course, there was also the high-pitched yelp of an animal in pain and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor. All of it was sorta obscured by the foam when he opened his eyes.
"Please be gone. Please be gone." He wiped at his face, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, if they were still there.
One dog was down, not moving. It wasn't his, though. It was smaller. Darker. The one big guy was down too, covered in foam, moaning softly, curled into a ball. And the little guy, well, he dangled from Connor's big hand where it wrapped around his throat.
"Connor. Love. I'll call the police. Be careful."
"No!" It came out as a bark, those pretty gray eyes almost black as Connor looked at him. "No, please, sweet. No police."
It kind of occurred to him that Connor was naked.
"No? Okay. Okay. Connor?" He sort of... vibrated there. "What do I do?"
"I need... I need a sheet. Or something." Oh, okay, he could do that. Even if he wasn't sure he wanted to leave Connor shaking the little man like a terrier with a rat.
"Okay. Okay. Don't let them hurt you. I'll be right back." He ran, slip-sliding through the mess on the floor towards the linen closet. Sheets. Sheets. They had sheets, right? Oh, Christ.
"I can't kill you," Connor was saying when he got back. "I know that. But I swear by all that's holy if you ever invade my home again, I'll tear you to bits and leave you in the gutter."
"I... I have sheets. You sure about the police?" He wasn't shaking; he wasn't.
"I am. Please." Connor sat the man down and reached out for a sheet, wrapping it around himself.
"Your place isn't here, Connor. You know it. One day you'll hurt him."
"Bullshit. This is where he belongs. Can I hit him with the fire extinguisher?" Hurt him?
A smile actually lifted the corners of Connor's mouth. "It wouldn't do much good, sweet. He doesn't injure easily.'
The look Connor turned on the man, though, was fierce. "This is my place. You're the one who doesn't belong, and you'll not ruin it. You'll go, and you'll take your trash with you."
He was going to be sick. Really.
Like really, really.
"I'll go. But when this one is old and gray, you'll be back, Connor. Mark my words." The little guy went to the door and whistled, and damned if more goons didn't show up and haul the... the other ones away.
He just sort of stood there. Watching. Eyes wide, throat working.
"Is the door broken?"
"I think so, sweet. I can...I can fix it." Connor had a smear of blood on his cheek.
"Are... are you okay?"
See him.
See him cope.
Cope him.
"I am." The door flapped a little, and Connor went to put a chair in front of it. "Are you, sweet? Are you all right?"
"Uh. No. I don't think so. They broke my door."
Connor's face sort of crumpled, those eyes so sad. "I'm sorry, Adrian. I'm... I... This is all my fault. I should never have thought to get away. I'll... I'll go."
"Go?" Okay. Okay, wait. Hold on. This was. Things like this didn't. "You want to go?"
Connor stopped halfway to the closet, clutching the sheet. His shoulders slumped. "No. No, love, I don't want to go. But I...I'm a freak, yeah?"
"Don't go. I can't... Please, Connor. I can't think right now. Don't go."
Turning, Connor looked at him, brows drawing together, then came over, hands rising to grasp his shoulders. "You're shocky, sweet. You need...oh. I dropped the pizza."
"I'll order another one. I watered your plants." He closed his eyes for a second, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. "There were dogs. Here."
"There was me, sweet. Me and two others like me and... And the owner." Rough fingers stroked his cheek, his throat.
"Owner?" He just stepped closer. Christ he was cold.
"I." Reaching out, Connor drew him close, that skin burning up. "I wish I knew how to tell you."
Under his fingers as he caught Connor for balance, he could feel the scars. Hundreds of them.
"He hurt you?" Oh, yeah. He was so going to be sick.
"He fought us. In the pit." Oh. Oh, God, like one of those illegal dogfights?
Oh. Oh, his poor Connor. He turned and scrambled for the bathroom, sliding through the sludge on the floor and crashing down. Strong hands lifted him, carried him, and before he even knew it he was on the floor in the bathroom, right where he needed to be.
He hurled until there wasn't anything left inside him. Then he just sat, heart pounding. Breathing. "Why didn't someone stop him?"
"He's... It's not... There's not rules down there like there are above." Leaning on him, Connor stroked his hair. His voice had that sad lilt again.
"My poor love." He sort of cuddled, starting to shiver. "You should have let me call the police."
"And tell them what? My lover is also a wolf who really isn't a wolf anymore thanks to careful breeding by an immortal spirit?"
"Uh. I guess not." Oh, God. A wolf. A... "The big dog. In the rain."
"I'm sorry, sweet. I was afraid to tell you." Connor pressed a kiss to his nape. "I'm sorry."
"Are they coming back?" A wolf. He was in love with a wolf? Okay. Fuck.
"No. I don't know. I'd hope not, sweet. No one has ever fought back before."
"Ever?" What the fuck? How utterly fucked up was that? "Connor? We are never going to Ireland. Ever."
Never. No matter how pretty the photographs are.
Damn it.
\*\*\*
Connor wandered. He and Adrian had gotten back into their routine, he supposed. They ate pizza. They cooked bacon. They even snuggled at night in their nest while Connor told Adrian the good things about Ireland, about his childhood, about how the very hills had music in them if you listened. About how he'd lived with his mother until he was grown and the owner came for him.
They had talked and talked.
The one thing they hadn't done was...kiss. Love. Be together.
He sighed, his fingers stroking over the case of Adrian's violin. He looked sideways at where Adrian sat, not moving or swaying or even humming. Just sitting, looking out the window. Connor picked up the violin case and took it over.
"Play for me?"
Dark eyes blinked over at him, hands reaching for the case automatically. "What do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear something you love. Something that will make you smile." He helped, holding the case while Adrian opened it and took out the instrument, then settling at Adrian's feet.
"Oh." Adrian closed his eyes a moment, tuning and plucking, then set bow to strings. The music was... stilted at first, distant, wrong. Adrian's leg was tense against him, vibrating. Then the music began to smooth out, the sounds becoming rich and sensual and round.
Connor could smell it, the change in Adrian as he lost himself in the music, in the making of it.
Oh, thank God. It made him smile. It made him sad, too, to think how much he disturbed Adrian now. He stroked Adrian's leg, listening, humming along.
Adrian sighed, shifting closer to him, to his touch. The song slipped into a merry little jig, light and quick. Oh, playing for him, with him.
Yes.
Connor tapped his fingers along with the little beat. He knew this one. Knew the tune. Almost knew the words. The song sped, Adrian's soft laughter adding to the joy, the dancing notes in the air. Connor laughed too, more at ease than he had been in a week or more. Finally he remembered, knew the words, and he started to sing.
The music softened a little, coming up under his voice, adding to it. Joining with it. Oh. Oh, this was...
It was perfection wrapped in music. They both faded away to silence at the same moment, the last note lingering so long it seemed like it might break.
Adrian carefully put the violin into its case, the sound of the clasps shutting so loud that he jumped, almost barked. Then one warm, long hand stroked over his short hair. Those fingers petted him, loved on him a second before Adrian landed in his lap, wrapping around him. He put his arms around Adrian and held tight, burying his nose in the long, floppy hair at Adrian's neck. Oh. He'd thought he'd lost this. He truly had.
"Love you, yeah?" The words were almost silent, whispered right under his ear.
"Adrian. Oh, sweet. Love you. Was afraid I disgusted you." He kissed Adrian's cheeks, his nose and lips.
"Scared me. Those men scared me. What they did to you scared me." Adrian's fingers were on his cheeks, tracing his scars. "I don't know how to start asking questions."
"Anything. You can ask me anything, sweet. I wouldn't hide from you. Not from you. Not anymore." No more hiding. That had almost gotten Adrian killed.
"Does it hurt? Are you... still you when you're... whatever it is you want me to call it when you look like a pup?"
"That's the other me, love. And what do you think?" He laughed out loud, looking Adrian in the eye. "Didn't I still lead you to the bacon?"
Adrian's head tilted for a second, then that sweet laugh rang out, full and tickled. "You did!"
"There, you see? I'm still me." He never even thought that it might bother Adrian, that Adrian might think him a mindless animal. But he could see why.
"Good. Is... is it like... I mean." Adrian sighed, grinned. "Are there times you have to be fuzzy? Is it just whenever? Is it contagious?"
He pondered that. "I tend to...to change under extreme stress. I think maybe once it was tied to the moon, but we were bred down, if you will, for a specific purpose." Connor shrugged. "That's what my mother always said, any road." As for the other..."It's born, so far as I know, sweet."
"Oh. Okay. Well, I..." Adrian frowned, dark eyebrows meeting above the long nose. "I guess we need to put in a doggie door. So if you need to, you can come in. I don't want you just hanging out down there in the cold."
Oh, he did love this man. Connor kissed Adrian again, lingering this time. "I'll do. Now I know where the buzzer is."
Adrian hummed a little, the sound deep, low. Wanton. Those hands were exploring him, relearning him, the touch unafraid. "Okay. You can use the buzzer."
"Better that way." Connor rose, pushed back for half a second, his shirt sailing off to one corner as he pulled it off and tossed it. "Oh, I missed your touch."
"I wanted to touch you, but I didn't want you to think I was just curious." Adrian cuddled right in, fingers tracing each scar, adoring his skin.
"And I thought you'd shrink from me. We've wasted time, sweet." Grinning wildly, he touched Adrian back, hands sliding around to pull Adrian closer, to share his heat.
"Mmm. Warm." Adrian tugged off the heavy sweater that hid that fine skin from him. "I didn't ever thank you, you know? I should have."
"For what, sweet?" What could Adrian thank him for? He was the one who had a home now. That skin. God. He touched, traced, tickled a little.
Soft little musical sounds sounded against his jaw, his throat. "They were going to hurt me. You came home. You stopped them."
"But I lost the pizza." He dipped his fingers under Adrian's waistband, searching for the head of that sweet cock.
"I can always order more pi..." Adrian sucked in, moaned low. The motion sent Adrian's cock bobbing and pushing against his fingers. "Oh."
"Pretty. Smell good." He wanted to taste. He'd not done that before, really, always letting Adrian. Connor slid down, letting Adrian lay back, reaching to pull those soft pants down, letting him look his fill.
"I smell like our soap." He loved how Adrian pinked, spread, moved restlessly.
"Mmm. And like you. It's..." Addictive. He put his nose against the base of Adrian's cock and scented him, breathing deep. Connor's cock throbbed in his own trousers. He held Adrian steady with one hand, licking up all the way to the tip, the flavor hot, a little acrid.
"Oh. Connor." Adrian was watching him, eyes wide and hot, just staring. "Again?"
"Mmmhmm." He glanced up, met those dark eyes, tongue touching all the way back down, then up.
It was like watching Adrian play, somehow. The long body bowed up, like Adrian was connected to his tongue. Closing his lips around the head, Connor sucked, remembering how good it felt, how it felt even better when Adrian had pushed his tongue against the slit. He did that too, just to see what would happen.
"Connor." Adrian's shoulders left the dark nest, body curling toward him, the scent of wanting and needing suddenly stronger. "Love."
Yes. Oh, that was wonderful, that look, that ripple. He remembered to move his hand, suddenly, pushing it up as his mouth went down. Salt-sweet drops slid onto his tongue, rich and pure, almost shocking his tongue. His eyes flew wide, his fingers tightening until Adrian moaned. Then he eased off, reaching down for Adrian's balls, weighing them.
So soft, the skin warm and delicate and so easily hurt, and Adrian never tensed, never pulled away. Trusted him. Even now. It humbled him. Even in his ever growing world, Connor knew he would never find such trust again. He finally just closed his eyes and began moving, up and down, sucking hard.
The low moans got louder, the music in them lost as Adrian pushed up into his lips, offering him everything, anything. Connor would have smiled if he could, but the need riding him and Adrian's thrusts made it impossible. He could touch, though, and he did, fingers sliding down to play at Adrian's hole.
"Yes. Yes, love. Please. Close." The heavy sacs were drawn up tight, the jerks toward him rough and needy.
If he could just...Connor breathed deep through his nose so he could take Adrian all the way in, one finger slipping right inside that unbelieveable heat. Adrian's body squeezed his finger tight and a sharp cry echoed as bitter salt heat poured into his mouth. He moaned, his own hips snapping. He just needed a little. Connor licked Adrian clean before kneeling up, tearing open his trousers.
Adrian's eyes were bright as buttons, fastened on him. Those lips were parted and damp, hands reaching for him. All he had to do was push into those hands, the hard floor under his knees, making him wish they were in their pillows. But he didn't care. He just wanted.
Strong and sure, Adrian's fingers wrapped around him, both hands pulling, tugging, working him. Playing him. His own sounds were like growls, deep and primal as he thrust, his muscles tight as a sailor's rope. It took no time at all for him to shoot so hard that he saw stars behind his eyes.
He was drawn into warm arms, Adrian cradling him, wrapping around him with a little hum.
The relief stunned him. Carefully avoiding the violin on the floor, Connor lifted Adrian and shuffled over to the array of pillows and beanbags, laying them down.
"Mmm." Adrian pushed close, lips against his throat, boneless and warm and cuddly as a pup. "Love, yeah?"
"Yeah. Love you." They still had a lot to talk about. A lot to work out. A door to replace.
But now that Connor knew Adrian loved him, wanted him, needed him there, he knew that they would. He'd found himself a home. He was free.
Free to love Adrian as long as the world would let him.
end
Instinctive Harmony
Copyright © 2005 by BA Tortuga
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.
Printed in the United States of America.
Torquere Press: Single Shot electronic edition / October 2005
Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

