Crossing Borders (16 page)

“Right now,” qualified Michael.

“Right now,” agreed Tristan. “But I can speak for the foreseeable future as well. I want to be your guy.” Tristan buffeted him with a shoulder.

“You are my guy. Am I yours?”

“Mmmhmm. You're my guy.
My guy
.”

“I like that,” said Michael. “Damn, the apples are going to turn brown.” He looked at the food. “Do you want to eat?”

“Sure. I'm hungry.”

“Okay, then let's eat. Can you get the pie out of the fridge?” asked Michael, going for the platter. “And the whipped cream?”

“Ooh, whipped cream. Now you've gone and made it official. You
are
my guy.”

“Really. Listen, Sparky, if…I mean…would you like a beer?”

Tristan laughed. “That must have cost you.” He held the pie with one hand and the can of whipped topping in the other. “But for your information, Officer Helmet, I don't drink…never have, really. I prefer speed to stupidity, so I never got into it. Think of me as having a high-octane brain. No alcohol necessary.”

“But you asked me if I was going to offer you a beer last week.”

“Yes, but I didn't say I'd accept it,” said Tristan. “You hadn't offered me anything else yet, either. I just wanted something to drink. To be fair, I've been known to drink maybe one beer in an evening. Once or twice.”

“Sparky,” began Michael, but Tristan cut him off.

“And, yes, that means tonight we had our very first fight over nothing. Let that be a lesson to you.” He winked and walked into the living room. “You can make it up to me by getting Edward's e-mail address for me. I think he needs my brothers to befriend him and give him a safe place to vent. What do you think?”

Michael's eyes followed him thoughtfully. “I think you are more than the sum of your parts.”

Tristan stuck his head around a corner and grinned. “But my parts? Wish you would get your parts in here. I have a can of whipped cream, and I'm not afraid to use it!”

As he had on their first date, Michael found himself awake and watching as Tristan slept in the glow of the fire. Periodically, he added a log, keeping the room warm. Experimenting with touch, he found he barely had to ripple a light fingertip over his sleeping lover, and Tristan would move, twisting until he was melted into Michael's embrace. Stroking Tristan's cheek got Michael a sleepy kiss. Touching Tristan's back or sliding a hand down his spine earned Michael the satisfying squeeze of arms around him. And squeezing Tristan's ass got him a fully awake and erect boy-toy looking for love.

“Hey,” said Tristan, pushing the hair out of his face as he climbed on top of Michael, rocking against him until they were both hard. Tristan grinned sleepily. “Ready or not…”

“Oh,
ready
,” breathed Michael, kissing him. “I have never seen anything like you before.”

“Like it?” said Tristan, flipping his hair. “Like what you see?”

“Oh, if you only knew,” said Michael.

“I know.” Tristan smiled. “The way you looked at me in the bookstore made me feel like a porn star.”

“Sorry,” said Michael.

Tristan ground his hips against Michael's so hard he gasped. “Look at me,” said Tristan, nipping his lips. “Nothing,
nothing
has ever made me hot like having your eyes on me.”

“Ooh, a little bossy boy-toy,” sighed Michael happily.

“I'm going to make you squirm,” said Tristan, teasing Michael's neck with his lips and teeth. “Going to make you beg.” He caught Michael's balls with one hand, giving them the lightest squeeze. “Going to make you do me all night long—hey, think I could ride you?”

“Right now?” asked Michael, wondering if Tristan was up to it.

“Yeah, then I could…” He whispered into Michael's ear. “…myself on your cock all I want.”

“Holy crap. You are going to kill me dead.”

“Yeah, probably. Just show me where the chalk is so I can draw a line around your body.” Tristan laughed, lunging for the lube and a condom. “Here, get me ready. Okay?”

“Oh, um,” said Michael, not sure what just happened. “All right.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was remembering with fondness the sweetly hesitant boy he'd brought home the week before. Tristan twisted on top of Michael turning with a great show of effort so that his mouth could be on Michael's cock and Michael had the option of reciprocating. Michael opened the lube and found himself face to…butt…with Tristan's ass.

“I'll just…um…be here while you do that,” Tristan said, and Michael felt something warm and slippery slide over his cock. Tristan nuzzled down into the creases between Michael's legs and body, his hair slipping and sliding on Michael's thighs.

“Oh, when you do that…I…” said Michael.

“Yeah?” hummed Tristan, around Michael's balls. He pulled Michael's knees up and dipped his head between his legs, slithering his tongue down the sensitive skin leading to Michael's hole. Tristan's tongue bead was going to make him crazy. Michael pressed a finger into Tristan's tight heat and was getting ready to insert another when he felt Tristan's tongue firmly invade him.

“Oh, shit!” He jumped, his pubic bone hitting Tristan's chin on the way up and snapping his teeth together.

“Whoa! Danger, Will Robinson,” murmured Tristan, going back to tonguing his hole. “Does Michael like this? I think he does.”

“Jeez, baby,” said Michael, who slipped a third finger in and let Tristan rock on his hand, changing to two thumbs and brushing his gland with each in turn.

“I think…” said Tristan panting. “Oh, I want…” he moaned.

Michael withdrew his thumbs and took Tristan's hips with the intention of helping him turn around. Tristan shifted and turned again, this time more clumsily, his full, heavy cock banging Michael's chest and dripping on it as he positioned himself. He rolled a condom down Michael's dick with a practiced flick of his hands. “I need…Michael,” he said, impaling himself in one swift motion, sucking in a lungful of air.

“
O
h
!” he gasped as he sat for a moment in shock. “Ooooh,” he said again, more quietly, closing his eyes. He began, tentatively, to move.

Michael thought he'd never seen anything more awesome in his life. Tristan in the firelight, riding his cock, became the fire, the orange glow lighting his amazing straight, shiny red hair until it luminesced as if it were light itself. Michael could see the crimson stain of arousal creeping up Tristan's neck and staining his cheeks a dull red. He put his hands on Tristan's thighs, sliding them up to his hips, waiting, watching for the boy to start his ride. He felt Tristan's muscles relax around his cock, no longer squeezing the life out of him, but undulating, as if Tristan was testing out his own body, exploring the sensation without beginning to move.

It seemed an eternity passed in the hushed living room, the fire snapping and crackling the only sound besides their breathing, when Tristan began to move. He opened his eyes first, reaching out to touch Michael's face tentatively with what Michael privately thought of as his baby fingers. The sweetness of his touch made Michael want to close his eyes, to lean into the delicate embrace, but as soon as he did, Tristan gave his jaw a squeeze.

“Do
not
take your eyes off me, Michael,” he commanded, and suddenly, Michael wanted very much to obey. The irony of a total newbie who could dominate him while he took it up the ass didn't go unnoticed. It simply sucked his brain out until he belonged to the boy, and if Tristan said jump, he would beg for the privilege of saying how high.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat. “Yes, Tristan.”

Tristan moved then, using his strong thighs to lift himself off Michael and gravity to slam him back down a little, shocking the air right out of Michael's lungs in a
whoosh
that surprised him. “Going to take you there,” said Tristan, now lifting the hair off his sweaty shoulders. “Take you wherever you want to go…”

“Yeah,” choked Michael. “Hell yeah, baby, only you…” he panted, gripping Tristan's ass so hard he was sure to feel it the next day. It was as if Michael could taste him on the air, the smell of sex and skin and fresh apples teasing all his senses until his focus narrowed to the two of them, and nothing else existed.

“Only me…” whispered Tristan, dropping his hair. He slid his hands down his body, touching all the juicy parts on the way, and it drove Michael crazy. “When I touched myself this week, I pictured you,” he said. “Your hands, your lips, your tongue. Touch me?” He put Michael's hands on his cock and held them there as he moved faster and faster, up and down, his tight asshole gripping and squeezing until Michael could hardly breathe.

Michael began to move his hands under Tristan's, pumping Tristan's cock, his hands gripping, pulling, and teasing the slit until Tristan writhed and clenched around him like a fist. He shifted Tristan a little, making him gasp and shudder as he pushed his cock against Tristan's gland again and again and again.

“Baby,” croaked Michael. “I'm going to…
Trista
n
!”

He pumped Tristan's cock harder and felt it swell and harden like a stone in his hands, felt Tristan's balls pull up and his hole flutter as he shot jets of cum on Michael's chest and face. Michael followed him over the edge, yanking him down onto his cock until he was crushed beneath Tristan, moaning as he felt heat flood the latex, his body jerking and shuddering completely out of his control.

“Yesssss,” hissed Tristan. “Yesssss…Michael…oh…
swee
t
!” He reached for Michael, gathering him close.

Softening and slipping out of Tristan's body, Michael removed the condom and tied it off. He tossed it over his head somewhere, vaguely aware that it would probably be just
yuck
in the morning when he found it again. He couldn't stop touching Tristan, rubbing against him, stroking his back and his face and his cheeks. His hands roamed over the sweet body beside his, while Tristan just looked at him with honest blue eyes.

“Damn, Michael,” Tristan whispered. “What happens to me when I'm with you?”

Michael smiled and ruffled Tristan's hair. “I have no clue,” he said. “But I'm keeping you.” Tristan licked a drip of cum off Michael's face and then kissed him. Michael tasted Tristan and apple and intimacy. He groaned and held him closer.