endoftheline (7 page)

“Sweet.” He leaned down, panting softly.

Sam’s fingers fell away as he leaned back against the pillows, nodding. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day long.”

“Yeah. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Made it hard to work.” Sam chuckled suddenly. “Hard was definitely the operative word.”

Chance chuckled, shivered, feeling a little dizzy as the sweat dried on him.

“Cold?” Sam asked, pulling up the edge of he covers and getting him half covered.

“Y...yeah.” He nodded, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes. Man.

Sam slid out of him and tied off the condom, tossing it into the little wicker garbage basket in the corner. Then those warm hands were sliding on his skin, petting him.

“Mmm...” He tried to breathe in, his chest feeling heavy, the blanket weighing him down. Oh. Come on, Chance. Come on. Focus. Juice. In the...

Where did he put it...

“I can’t decide if I’d rather eat or nap,” murmured Sam, voice far away. “Well, I’d rather nap and screw some more, but I’m hungry.” Sam’s chest moved beneath his head as the man chuckled.

He nodded, or tried to, eyes searching for Sam’s, tremors coming harder, heart pounding in his chest.

“Hey! Chance?” Sam’s hand cupped his face, turned his eyes up to meet the bright blue of Sam’s. “You okay?”

Oh, thank God. He shook his head, mouth moving, trying to explain, trying to get Sam to give him the fucking juice.

“Fuck, it’s the diabetes, isn’t it?” Sam pushed him off and got up, leaving him on the bed as he left.

Shit.

He just closed his eyes a second, letting the room spin for a bit until he could focus again.

Sam’s arm was suddenly under his back, solid and warm, pulling him up to sit, a glass pressed against his lips. He opened, choking a little as the liquid poured down his throat, his body confused.

“Fuck. Come on, Chance. I’m pissing in the wind here, hoping this is what you need.” Sam kept on pouring the juice in, almost faster than he could swallow.

It didn’t take five or six good swallows before he felt like he could focus, finishing the rest eagerly. “Oh. Oh, I needed that.”

“Thank god. I wasn’t sure it was the right thing.”

It hit him suddenly what had happened and his cheeks flared. “Oh. Oh, God. Sam. I. I’m sorry, man. I.”

Sam shook his head. “I forgot you needed to eat more than I needed to fuck you. I’m just glad I had it right.”

“No. I got busy today and didn’t have my three o’clock snack and... God, I’m sorry.” He stood up, knees wobbling and weak. “I need a sandwich.”

Sam stood with him, arm around his waist, supporting him. “I can make it. You can just sit.”

“I’m not broke. I’ll do it.” He was shaking hard -- embarrassed and pissed and about to cry and it wasn’t
him,
damn it, it wasn’t. It was the sugars and he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself in front of the finest thing that had crossed his path in forever.

“I can make a fucking sandwich, Chance.” Sam pushed him into a chair and pulled out the bread.

He was going to scream. He was. Or throw something. Or scream. Fuck.

Sam buttered the bread and opened the fridge. “There’s a couple slices of ham left. That okay?”

He nodded, fingers twining together. Yeah. Yeah, that would work.

Sam put the sandwich down in front of him, poured him another glass of juice and sat down across from him. “You gonna be okay?”

He nodded, eating, tremors slowly fading as his sugars settled. “God, I hate that.”

Sam nodded. “It’s a little scary.”

“Yeah. I guess I should have warned you.”

Sam grinned wryly. “No sex unless you’ve had food. Consider me warned.”

He blushed again, stood. “I think I’m going to take a quick shower. I’m all sweaty.”

“Want company?”

“It depends on if you’re coming in because you want my bod or if you’re worried about me falling and hitting my head.” He winked.

Sam chuckled. “I can’t promise I’m not worried about you falling and hitting your head, but to be honest I was more trying to cop myself some more feels.”

“Oh. He grinned, feeling a little more human. “In that case, I’d love some company.”

Sam answered his grin with a smile, the worry leaving those blue eyes. “Good.”

He twined their fingers together, tugged Sam toward the shower and round two.

***

They’d showered and gone to hit the Dairy Dart for some take out, putting the groceries off for another night.

Now they were in bed with a couple of books, Chance’s a murder mystery, his a horror novel that wasn’t terribly horrific, Chance snuggled up against him, nice and warm. It was getting late, nearly gone ten, but he was still keyed up from the evening’s events, couldn’t settle. Which might explain why the book just wasn’t holding his attention.

Chance hummed a little, cheek rubbing his shoulder, turning a page. Which made his cock jerk and wasn’t that just how the whole evening had started -- with him acting like a horny teenager.

Chance looked up at him, grinned. “You okay, Mr. Sam?”

He smiled back and nodded. “Just... well it was an exciting evening. The kind of excitement you don’t necessarily want a repeat of.”

“I’m sorry. It’s going to happen. Part and parcel of the whole diabetes thing.”

He nodded. “Maybe you should tell me what all to expect so I know what to do. It wouldn’t have freaked me as much if I’d known for sure I was doing the right thing to help you.”

Chance looked at him, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. If my sugars drop? I get sweaty, shaky. Real aggressive. There’s juice in the fridge, in the bedside table. If it’s too bad to drink? There’s a glucagon injector in the bathroom in a red case.”

“A glucagon injector? That’s like a needle all set up and ready to go? Like what folks allergic to bee stings have?” Damn, it was complicated. And serious enough Chance could die if he screwed up. He was only just realizing that.

Chance nodded. “Yep. Just screw the needle on and stick it in me.”

“Okay.” And it was. He could handle that. Every day he’d seen action other men had depended on him to do the right thing and keep them alive. Just like he’d depended on them. “Is there anything else?”

“Remember that if I get nasty all of a sudden, for no good reason? My sugars are dropping and a peanut butter sandwich will get me back to making sense.”

“We’re out,” he noted. “But I’ll make sure to buy the extra large pot.”

“You wigged out?” Chance’s hands pet his belly, stroking.

He considered the question carefully. Truth was not much actually wigged him out. He’d spent his life working in an environment where you learned to expect the unexpected and get through it with your life, the life of your buddies and a victory all under your belt.

“No. Just realizing how serious diabetes is. You make it seem... well like allergies or something easy.”

“I... I don’t think about it, it pisses me off. I mean, the three things I wanted to do when I grew up? I can’t do any of them, so I don’t think on it.”

“Three?” he knew about the army thing.

“Yeah. I tried to go to flight school and... truck driver school, believe it or not. Can’t do either.”

“Damn. That sucks.” He pet Chance, not sure what to say. He didn’t figure anything he did say could make a difference.

“It’s okay. I’m happy. I can’t imagine not having my critters now, not being able to go for a long ride, go fishing.”

“I guess things happen for a reason. At least that’s what I tell myself when nothing seems to make sense.”

“Yep. And I take good care of myself. Gotta keep the old pecker hard, you know.”

He blinked, that being totally unexpected. “Sex is good for diabetics?”

“Diabetes is the top cause of impotence.”

“Oh.” Jesus, wasn’t that a nice sentence to be hanging over a man’s head. “I guess you’re well motivated.”

“Yeah. Makes me sort of a shitty long-term risk, but short-term? I’m good to go.” Those blue eyes flashed up at him, then down again.

He pet Chance. “You’re not the only one who’s not the best long-term risk. Not by far.

“I’m thinking I’d risk some for you, Mr. Sam.”

Warmth flooded in his belly. Chance had a way of making him feel good with just a few words. “I think I know that feeling.”

Chance’s hand landed on his belly. “That’s good to hear, sir. Real good.”

“Yeah? Good.” He slid his hand on Chance’s. It felt good, this man touching him. And he was getting used to it.

Warm, soft lips found his nipple, pulling nice and steady, tongue sliding over the tip. Oh, time for talking was done. He lay back on the pillows, hand sliding through Chance’s hair, holding that warm mouth against his nipple.

Chance groaned, hand sliding down to find his cock. He pushed his hips up into that hand, his cock hard and needing just like that.

“Mmm... all for me.” Chance grinned, leaned down to lick, to nuzzle.

“Hell, yes.” He whimpered and bucked, tongue sliding out to wet his lips.

A soft puff of air ghosted over the tip of his cock, then those lips wrapped around his prick. He shouted, hips bucking, pushing his cock a little deeper before he got control and made himself be still, hands petting Chance’s hair. Chance smiled around his cock, tongue sliding against the slit.

He shuddered, body tightening. “Good,” he managed to mutter, trying to catch his breath.

That hot mouth took more of him in, sinking down farther. He found Chance’s shoulders and held on, fingers digging in as the pleasure shot through his cock. A low hum sounded, Chance swallowing, hips sliding on the sheets. He panted, lying there like a fish out of water, fingers loosening their hold enough he could pat Chance. Chance nuzzled his belly, his hip.

“You make an old man feel good, Chance.”

“Yeah, you make an old man feel fine as frog hair spilt four ways.”

He chuckled. “Bring that sweet talking mouth up here for a kiss.”

Chance slid back up his body, cock hot and heavy against his thigh. He moaned into Chance’s mouth, hand sliding down to finger Chance’s cock. That heavy cock jerked, pushed into his hand, Chance moaning low.

“You want to do me?” He asked, palm sliding against Chance’s prick.

“Oh. Oh, shit.” Chance bucked, nodding, hips driving into his hand. “Okay.”

He kept stroking Chance’s cock, stretching to reach the side table and pull the slick and a condom from its drawer.

Chance groaned, hips still moving. “How do you want to do this?”

“However you want.” He’d never done it before, never been taken and so he didn’t know what he liked, or even if he would like it.

Chance settled beside him, slick fingers tickling his balls, sliding behind to circle his hole. “Been a while?”

“It’s never been,” he admitted, looking Chance in the eyes as he spread his legs, letting the man know it was his decision, he wanted it.

“Never? I’ll have to make it good.” Chance smiled, the tip of one finger slipping in.

He would have answered about how he had no doubt that Chance would, but Chance had stolen his breath, that finger feeling strange, but good. Chance’s tongue slid over his balls, that finger sliding, rocking in a gentle motion. He moaned, spreading his legs a little wider.

Chance didn’t hurry, fucking treated him like he was something else, something special. Felt good, the care even more than those fingers inside him. Or at least it did until those fingers made something inside him that had him bucking, shouting.

“Oh, you like that.” Chance purred, lips sliding along his cock as those fingers pushed in again.

“Fuck! Chance!” He bucked again, shivering at the sensation of lightning inside him.

“Yeah, you tell me when you’re ready for it to be me.”

“I am.” He was. Wanting to give this to Chance, to share this with the only man he’d ever woken up with.

“Oh, good. Gonna make it good, Mr. Sam. I swear it.”

He nodded. “I know you will.” Chance had never made him feel anything but good, right from the very first.

Chance moved between his legs, pushing against his hole, spreading him so slowly. Oh, fuck, it burned, not harsh or horrible, but it still made him stiffen up.

“Breathe.” Chance stopped, leaned down to kiss him.

He moaned into the kiss, breath returning with the sound and he made himself relax, ignore the pain. Chance moved in slow, gentle thrusts, carefully filling him, making him need. The burn faded, leaving behind an ache and a feeling that was unlike anything he’d ever felt. It made him shiver and he cried out as it got bigger.

“Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Feels so good.” Chance’s eyes were hot, aroused, watching him.

“It does.” He nodded, hand reaching out to touch Chance’s cheek. Chance turned, dropped a soft kiss on his palm, hips moving slow and easy.

He moaned, hips starting to meet Chance’s thrusts, needing more. Chance gave it to him, motions sure and strong, pressing into him. His eyes rolled as Chance’s cock slid over that spot inside him, sparking fire in him again. His cock was taken in a hard hand, calluses rubbing him, pulling in time with the strokes inside him.

“Chance!” He reached out and held onto Chance’s shoulders, body feeling like it was going to shake apart as he came hard.

Chance moved above him, panting hard, hips driving into him over and over. He just held on, each movement making sweet shocks slide up his spine.

“Oh, yeah...” Chance purred, going stiff and still above him. He could feel Chance’s prick throb inside him, filling the condom. He swallowed, fingers sliding through Chance’s hair. “Oh. Oh, you’re fine, Sam. So fine.”

He shivered, bringing Chance down for a kiss. “You’re not so bad yourself, Chance.”

Chance eased out of him, tossing the rubber before cuddling close. He was undone, like he was so often by Chance, by the care and passion the man showed him. He pressed close to Chance, pushing into the warmth.

“Mmm... Feels good, Sam. Feels real good.”

“Feels just about better than anything I can remember, Chance.” He put his arms around Chance and held on. Would hold on all through the night and wake up next to this man.

He was growing used to it. Maybe growing to need it.