Crossing Borders (31 page)

“Michael,” said Tristan, pushing hard into his embrace. “Missed you,” he sighed, still waking up.

“Me too. I thought about you the whole night. Thought about this. Scoot over,” he said, getting under the covers.

“You still have your shoes on?” asked Tristan, feeling them next to his feet. “Come here.” He sat up and began to remove Michael's shirt, carefully helping to slide it off Michael's shoulders, holding him up and giving his neck a good kiss while he was at it. “Let me get those shoes,” he added, slipping down to untie the laces. “Here.”

“Sparky,” said Michael tiredly. “You're so warm.”

“Going to warm you up in a minute, Michael,” said Tristan, who was working to unzip Michael's trousers and slide them off his body. “Once you're all undressed, we can share body heat.”

“Sounds good,” said Michael. “I've been up for about thirty-six hours, Sparky. I need to sleep.”

“Okay, baby, whatever you need.” Tristan removed Michael's undershirt and scooted on top of him as Michael toed off his socks. “Go to sleep.”

“Have to,” said Michael. “But I'll be dreaming about loving you later.”

“Okay, later,” said Tristan. “There's plenty of time later.”

“Later. Did I tell you I love you yet?” said Michael, oozing into sleep muscle by muscle.

“Nope,” said Tristan. “Not yet.”

“I love you,” said Michael, his breathing becoming deep and even. “So much.”

“Me too,” said Tristan. “I love you, Michael.” Tristan lay on Michael until he felt his body warm up and then moved to the side, away from the fireplace, so that Michael was right next to it. He wrapped his arms around his lover possessively and then his legs for good measure, and fell into a dreamless sleep beside him.

* * *

Several hours later when Michael woke up, it was to find an amorous, sleeping Tristan rocking against him. “Oh,” said Tristan, as he pushed his erection hard against Michael's. “So good,” he sighed. He nuzzled into Michael's neck, setting little smoldering fires on his skin as his lower half plunged Michael into instant erotic overdrive.

“Hey,” said Michael, finding Tristan's mouth and opening it, waking him with a thrusting tongue. “Wait for me.”

Tristan, for his part, didn't care who started it or how, he only knew that Michael was playing, and he was on fire. “Oh.” He smiled against skin. “Glad you're awake.”

“Come here,” said Michael, rolling Tristan onto his back. “I want inside you.”

“Yeah. Sweet,” said Tristan. “Yeah.” He tasted Michael's lips and reached up to find a bottle of lube and a condom under the pillow.

“How?” asked Michael softly in Tristan's ear.

“Surprise me,” said Tristan, laughing. He nipped at Michael's jaw sharply, more than ready to be with him. “I want you so much.” Tristan gasped as Michael's lube-slicked finger entered him, playing with him gently for a time. Just as suddenly, it left him empty and needing. He tried to move back toward that hand.

“Turn over,” said Michael rolling him. When Tristan complied, the fingers came back, two this time, stroking him from the inside. “So hot for you,” said Michael. “You're so beautiful when I do this.”

“All for you,” gasped Tristan as Michael hit his gland.

“Yes,” said Michael. He pushed in a third finger, and Tristan closed his eyes and bit his lip. “Like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” hissed Tristan. “Feels good.” He writhed under Michael's hand, his head down, his hips up. He felt Michael's hand leave him to put on a condom, and the head of his cock took its place. “Oh,” breathed Tristan, sucking in a deep breath. “Oh, so good.”

“Yeah,” said Michael, sliding in hard, all the way to his balls. He kissed Tristan's back, arching to push into him with everything he had, then placed an arm around Tristan's chest and lifted him, pulling him up and against his own, letting Tristan ride his cock from a position straddling Michael, with his back to Michael's chest.

“
O
h
! Shit,” said Tristan, as the new position drove Michael's cock so deeply into him he seemed to feel it everywhere. “I can feel you…your heartbeat,” he moaned, his head falling back onto Michael's shoulder. “It's like I'm part of you.”

“Uhn…you are, baby,” said Michael, kissing Tristan's neck where it lay exposed in front of him. “Surprise.”

Biting his lip to keep from crying out, Tristan lifted his arm and took hold of Michael's head. He held him close, while Michael bit and licked his neck. Michael moved inside him, and he thought he would expire from the pleasure of it.

“Shit,” said Tristan, his own strong legs absorbing the shock of Michael's determined thrusts. “Oh, Michael!
Shit
,” he said again, as he melted into the arms surrounding him, holding him fast while Michael's cock pumped in and out of him harder and deeper and faster still. He understood what Michael meant now when he said “make me fly.” Tristan was beyond his body, soaring.

“Hm?” said Michael into his neck, seemingly lost to speech as he grasped Tristan's cock with one hand and began to pump it too. Waves of pleasure shot through Tristan's body like sound.

“I'm all full,” moaned Tristan, who was so stimulated that his body didn't feel like his own any more. “Oh,
harder
,” he begged.

Michael pistoned into Tristan's body like a machine, crushing him in his arms. Tristan made low moaning sounds, his cock gliding through Michael's slick fingers. He cried out and shot hard, his whole body spasming out of control until Michael came as well, pulling Tristan in close and pushing himself into Tristan's heat as deeply as Tristan could take him. Tristan trembled when he felt the jerk of Michael's release inside him, and it flooded him with warmth.

Michael and Tristan stayed joined, kneeling, until everything around them stopped whirling and spinning, and it was just the two of them again loving each other.

“I think you severed my spine,” moaned Tristan, falling forward with Michael still in him and holding on from behind.

Tristan hissed as Michael withdrew and pulled off the condom, tying it and tossing it. He put his nose in Tristan's hair and inhaled. “You smell like Thanksgiving and man and fire and sex.” He sighed. “Jelly legs?” he asked.

“The worst,” said Tristan. “Or the best, I don't know which yet.”

“The difference is always how much you need to pee.” Michael laughed.

“Well, I do,” whined Tristan. “And how I'm going to get there remains a mystery.”

“I'm going; why don't we try the buddy system? I'll help you up.”

“I'm serious,” said Tristan as Michael righted him, and he began the trek to the bathroom on the shakiest legs of his life. “Wobbly.”

“I've got you, love.” Michael held him firm, and Tristan leaned into him, walking the short distance with him. “Bath?” he asked while Tristan was relieving himself.

“Yes.” Tristan plunked himself down on the thin lip of the tub. “I'd love a bath. As long as there's some of that herb-y stuff and you in it.”

Michael turned the water on. He sat down next to Tristan and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Wow. I'm going to feel you next week.” He put his head on Michael's shoulder. “Not that next week I won't want to feel you again. Or an hour from now.”

Michael slid his hand into Tristan's hair behind his neck. “I always want you,” he said, kissing him. He took the bottle of herb-scented oil, added it, and then went around the bathroom lighting candles.

Tristan climbed in and rested his back against the tub, rippling the water around with his hands. “I get to hold you this time, your tub, my rules.” He smiled an invitation.

Michael slipped into the water and slid between his legs. “Cold night last night,” he said. “I was worried about Mary and her friends.”

“The homeless lady you told me about?” asked Tristan.

“Yeah, but I think they must have gone to a shelter,” said Michael. “I didn't see them. I hope they did.”

“You know, when you mentioned that you'd seen kids thrown out by their parents, I thought, how can someone be so…” Tristan slid a hand over Michael's chest, and he kissed the nape of his neck. “I think I'm very lucky.”

“I think you are too. No matter how goofy they were acting, your brothers were still being your brothers. Your mom may be shocked, but she's dealing. And your sister? She can't wait to sew us those ruffly poet shirts.”

“You got that right.” Tristan smiled. “Maybe we could get our picture taken as vampire demon lovers and give that to her for Christmas.”

“Sweet! We could get those contacts that make your eyes red. Except your eyes are the most perfect shade of blue. They still go straight to my dick.”

“Wrong,” said Tristan. “
Your
eyes are the most perfect shade of blue. But it's true that when you're around my eyes go straight to your dick.”

“Love you.” Michael turned to kiss Tristan.

“Love you too,” said Tristan, bent on discovering other things that could go straight to Michael's dick, like his hands and his mouth.

By the early afternoon, Tristan was finding new things to fascinate him about Michael's body, having licked and sucked his way to his toes. Michael lay spent, relaxed, his hands behind his head, watching Tristan play like a puppy over every part of his skin.

“It is good to be me, Sparky,” he sighed, as Tristan nipped his ankle.

“Mm,” said Tristan. “Tattooed skin tastes just like chicken.” He licked around the band tattoo on Michael's leg, his tongue lavishing the simple design with special attention. “Love this, love the way you look inked.”

“Hm, what? Oh.” Michael stiffened and pulled away a little. “That was a stupid whim.”

“Yeah? Don't you like it still? I love it. I think it's hot. I wanted to lick it in Borders when I first saw it.” Tristan licked over the design again, sending a frisson of something erotic and hot through Michael.