Through Thick and Thin

by J. P. Oliver

  “Oh shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  Travis growled and climbed onto the bed, sliding between Lance’s legs and getting his hands onto Lance’s wrists, pinning him down but not putting his full weight on him. Lance’s breathing went shallow and thanks to his pale eyes, Travis could literally see Lance’s pupils expanding with arousal...as if the growing hardness pressing up into his hip wasn’t enough of a clue.

  “You’re a little shit, you know that?” Travis bent down so that he could nuzzle just behind Lance’s ear, feeling the soft skin and loving the way that Lance’s breath hitched. “I ought to tell all the others.

  Lance gave him a sly grin. “Everyone knows I’m the sweet one. Nobody will believe you.”

  Travis had something to say to that, but then Lance was wriggling enough to get a hand free and tangle it in Travis’s hair, urging his mouth upwards so that they could kiss again. Their noses bumped awkwardly and Lance chuckled, so Travis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside again, tasting him. Lance all but clawed at Travis’s shirt, desperate to get it off of him, and Travis remembered that while he’d been getting laid a few times a week, Lance hadn’t been with anyone in… a long time.

  “Slow down,” he said, pulling back and taking his shirt off, tossing it aside.

  “Easy for you to say,” Lance replied, sitting up and trying to get his own clothes off as well.

  Travis stopped him and began to unbutton Lance’s shirt himself, kissing along the skin that was exposed as he undid it. Lance deserved to have someone take their time with him, and Travis was determined to give that to him.

  It was probably how long it had been, but Lance was wonderfully responsive. Travis braced himself over him, mapping out Lance’s skin with his tongue, until he had figured out that nipping at Lance’s hipbones made him gasp and twitch, and sucking on a nipple with a hint of teeth made Lance’s entire body jerk. Travis wanted to keep going, to see how long he could draw this out until Lance was a sobbing, quivering mess.

  Lance, however, had other ideas. He grabbed Travis and, with surprising strength and dexterity, flipped them over so that he was on top.

  “Impatient, are we?” Travis growled, grinning up at him as Lance quickly undid his pants and slid out of them.

  “Do I need to remind you how long it’s been?” Lance snapped. His tone was harsh, but the corners of his eyes were crinkling upward and his mouth had gone stiff as he tried to fight off his smile.

  “Well in that case, I should probably pitch this time,” Travis drawled. “Can’t have you going off too soon.”

  “You did not just use a baseball metaphor and suggest I have a hair trigger. Do you flatter all of your partners like this?” Lance retorted.

  Travis took advantage of Lance’s momentary distraction to sit up and slide his hand down Lance’s stomach, gently raking his nails through the soft patch of hair there and just barely avoiding touching his cock. Lance’s head fell forward to rest on Travis’s shoulder and he panted, hips thrusting forward slightly. “Nah,” Travis replied. “You’re the only one. You should be flattered.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m feeling really…” Lance’s sentence died out again as Travis wrapped his hand around Lance’s cock and pumped it slowly.

  Travis was getting rather fond of this new ability to get Lance to stop finishing his sentences. Lance was practically shaking in his arms, and Travis had to keep his grip loose and teasing to prevent Lance from coming and ending all of this.

  Although, actually…

  Travis wrapped an arm around Lance’s back, hauling him a little closer and tightening his grip on Lance’s cock, stroking him firmly. Lance dug his nails into Travis’s back and turned his head to mouth at Travis’s neck. “Trav, I’m—seriously, all jokes, ah, aside, I’m—”

  “Go ahead,” Travis told him, voice low and intimate right at Lance’s ear. This would take the edge off for Lance, and then Travis could take his time with him for the rest of the time.

  Lance writhed on his lap, and Travis turned his head a little so that he could get a good look at Lance’s face. He was flushed red all the way down his chest, his pale blue eyes glazed over, his lips parted as little gasps fell from his mouth.

  “That’s it,” Travis said, using the precome leaking from the tip to smooth his strokes, tightening his grip without it being too much. “C’mon, I want to see this.”

  He’d never seen Lance so absolutely wrecked...nor had he seen Lance so willingly letting someone manhandle him and take him apart. He was like putty in Travis’s hands, letting Travis do as he pleased, and Travis loved it.

  Lance might have been pliant, but he wasn’t passive. He continued to bite and kiss at Travis’s neck and shoulder when he could, his hands alternately sliding over the expanse of Travis’s back and digging in when his hips thrust forward, almost involuntarily. Travis kept talking him through it—it had to be hard, must be, and he could see Lance still sort of holding on, fighting for some kind of control, but resisting the relentless pleasure after so long just on his own was impossible.

  “I can’t—” Lance bit his lip and looked impossibly torn, his body shuddering and begging for release, but his eyes shining with a desire for more, for it not to end here. “I want—”

  “We’ll get there,” Travis assured him. He tucked Lance in against him and twisted his wrist, sliding his thumb over the slit of Lance’s cock. “Let go for me, and then we’ll have all the time in the world. Just give me a little show first.”

  Lance moaned, obviously appreciative of Travis’s dirty talk. Travis grinned. “You look so pretty, writhing on my lap like this. I know you need more, but let’s just take the edge off and then I’ll work you over properly. I’ll do it right and slow and we’ll get you writhing all over again, get that skin all flushed until you’re forgetting your own name.”

  His lips brushed the curve of Lance’s ear as he spoke, and he gave into his impulse to lean in and take the lobe between his teeth, tugging lightly.

  Lance cried out and came, hips twitching and back arching. Travis held him, making sure that Lance didn’t flail too much and hit something or fall off the bed. Lance collapsed against him, panting, hands weakly petting at Travis’s chest.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck…”

  “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be getting to that,” Travis said lightly.

  Lance punched him, but it was a weak and uncoordinated one, so it didn’t hurt. “You’re such a jerk.”

  Travis rolled them over so that Lance was underneath him again. Lance’s eyes were shining and there was the beginning of a hickey on his neck. Travis had a feeling he had one or two hickeys of his own from where Lance had been mouthing so enthusiastically. He really was lovely like this, all taken apart and wrecked and happy to let Travis do it to him all over again.

  He’d always known that Lance was attractive. Hell, why else was he always having to direct jerks away from him? But how had he, the guy who’d slept with pretty much every other person in town, not once looked at Lance before and realized just how attractive? Just how gorgeous?

  Travis bent down and kissed Lance again, letting Lance wind his arms around his neck, but carefully keeping space between their bodies. He was still wearing his jeans and if he ground down now it would be more pain than pleasure for Lance and his over-sensitive body. He needed to give him a moment to wind down, so he just focused on kissing Lance, using two fingers to stroke his neck, burying a hand in his hair.

  Once Lance started to go from one hundred percent relaxed to more eager, kissing back with force, his hands roaming again, Travis pulled back and finally got his own pants off. He had to wrap a hand around the base of his cock and squeeze, breathing deeply.

  Lance sat up at once, crawling up to him and running his hands all over, kissing Travis and staring at him like Travis was… well. Travis was pretty hot, and he knew it. He knew that he pinged all those cowboy/rough mountain man kind of fantasies and he was happy to oblige. He
had more than enough confidence. Some might say too much, but whatever.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t know that he looked good, was the thing. He’d never had anybody look at him the way that Lance was looking at him right now though. His expression wasn’t one of lucky me, or holy shit, which were the usual reactions. There was plenty of hunger there, plenty of desire, but also… Travis might even say wonder. It was like Lance was in awe, getting something that he thought he’d never get to have.

  It was oddly humbling, and actually pretty terrifying. Travis didn’t want to do anything to make that look fade away.

  Lance seemed to sense some of this, because he gave Travis another fond smile and turned over so that he was on his hands and knees. “You good?” He asked, reaching out for the bedside drawer to grab some supplies.

  “Yeah,” Travis replied. He grinned when he saw the lube and condoms. “I thought you were just saying it’d been a while?”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m not prepared, asshole,” Lance replied, tossing the stuff at him with a huff of laughter.

  Travis draped himself over Lance’s back, feeling Lance’s entire body shudder in pleasure. “You like it when I manhandle you a bit, don’t you?”

  “Maybe a little,” Lance retorted, as if it were giving him pain to admit that he found anything Travis did attractive.

  Travis hummed, pleased, and opened up the lube. Slicking himself up, he pulled away from Lance so that he could slide a finger down the cleft of his ass, letting his finger snag on the rim of his hole. Lance’s breath caught and he rocked his hips a little, seeking more.

  “I should’ve known you’d be impatient,” Travis said, working his finger in slowly. He could feel Lance’s body, loose from orgasm, eagerly clenching around him. It would be easy to slide his entire finger in right away—maybe two fingers, even—but he’d been serious when he’d decided to draw this out.

  He moved in and out, gently pushing his finger further in each time, his other hand stroking soothingly along Lance’s side. Lance was impatient, whining, even though he was still working his way back up to full hardness. Travis was taking his time, though. He scissored his fingers, loving the way that Lance gasped and shook in his arms, how he keened in the back of his throat when Travis crooked his fingers just so and found his prostate.

  Travis had to admit he was pretty merciless about that. Once he found that sweet spot, he was making sure that he hit it on each thrust, teasing, getting Lance all worked up again until Lance was angrily cursing Travis out and telling him to just get the fuck on with it.

  “I’m going to flip you over and take care of this myself,” Lance warned, then yelped as Travis added a third finger and loomed over Lance’s back, so that Lance could feel the heat of Travis’s body.

  “No, you’re not,” Travis replied, grinning as he slowly twisted his fingers in and out, keeping his rhythm slow. “You like this too much. You like that I’m in control, making you desperate for it.”

  A part of him wanted to ask if anybody else had figured this out. He wanted to ask if anyone else had taken their time with Lance the way he deserved, had driven him to the point of desperation, or if they’d just done it quick and dirty. Travis had done it that way plenty of times with other partners, flirting with them in bars until by the time they got to a bed, it was all frantic groping and kissing, heat and impatience. Lance deserved better than that though—and where before, going slow would mean little intervals of conversation that Travis was uncomfortable with, with Lance, there was no such thing.

  Lance gave an impatient whine in the back of his throat and reached up, wrapping his hand around Travis’s neck and dragging him around for a sloppy, heated kiss. Travis growled into his mouth, remembering that while Lance had gotten off once already, Travis was still hard and leaking, desperate to come.

  “Don’t act like you aren’t gagging for it either,” Lance said, a challenging note in his voice as he playfully licked at Travis’s lips. “You think I can’t handle it?”

  Travis increased the speed of his thrusts, hitting Lance’s prostate mercilessly, until Lance was shaking and had to lock his elbows to keep from face-planting into the bed. “Oh my God, you’re such—oh fuck—such a jerk.”

  “Aww, you say the sweetest things,” Travis replied, finally pulling his fingers out and grabbing a condom.

  Lance managed to balance on one hand, so that he could use the other one to flip Travis off. Travis just laughed.

  He gave himself a few tugs, breathing hard and closing his eyes. His body was screaming at him for release, to just get himself off, but he wasn’t going to do that until he’d gotten Lance completely hard again. He wanted Lance to come a second time, from Travis being inside of him, and Travis certainly didn’t want to come until he’d spent some time inside that tight, clenching heat.

  Rolling the condom on, he positioned himself and ran his hands over Lance’s back. “You good?”

  “You good?” Lance repeated. “I’ve been telling you to get on with it for however many minutes now, and you ask if I’m—”

  Travis was really loving this newfound ability to win arguments by just cutting Lance off. He slid into him and Lance gasped, completely losing whatever he was going to say next. Travis had to clench his jaw to keep from spilling his load. It felt good, so good, and for a moment the two of them just panted together, breathing, getting used to the feel of one another.

  Lance slowly loosened up around him, enough that Travis felt like he could move without hurting him. He started slowly, little shallow thrusts that did little to stave off the burning heat inside of him, but caused Lance to make the best helpless little grunts. Travis grit his teeth, waiting as his thrusts gradually became deeper and harder, Lance loosening up for him bit by bit.

  He waited, though, waited until Lance reached back and grabbed at him, yanking at him, trying to get him to move more.

  Then Travis started to move in earnest, harder, fucking Lance until he was plastered over him, not wanting to be too separated from Lance, not wanting to just sit back and have it be impersonal. He wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist and kept his thrusts deep but not too fast, wanting to draw this out, wanting Lance to feel every single second of it.

  Lance wriggled his hips, pushing himself back, trying to get Travis to move faster, but Travis just tightened his arm and refused. “I want you to feel all of this,” he told him, burying his grin in the slope of Lance’s shoulder at Lance’s answering, helpless moan.

  It was torture, to keep this up and not just lose himself completely in it, but he wanted this to be good for Lance, wanted Lance to be a complete mess. Lance seemed to be getting there, cursing Travis out. His frustration was something familiar though, comforting, because he’d driven Lance crazy before and had him cursing him out like this before, without any real heat, and it was just like it had always been between them...except better.

  Travis slid his hand down, finding Lance fully hard again, leaking at the tip. He began to stroke in time with his thrusts, kissing along the back of Lance’s neck, tasting the sweat from his skin and relishing the heightened pitch of Lance’s cries.

  “I can’t—Trav, really—” Lance sounded almost pained, stuck between Travis’s cock and his hand, writhing at the onslaught of sensation. Travis was basically having to hold him up now, his weight falling back against Travis while his hands scrambled in the sheets for purchase. His voice was hoarse, like he’d been yelling.

  “Yes,” Travis groaned. “Yes, you can. Go for it, let go...I want to feel it happen.”

  Lance let out a kind of groan that tapered off almost to a whine, his entire body going stiff and shaking slightly as he came, ruining the bedclothes and coming all over Travis’s hand.

  Travis couldn’t help it anymore. He gave into the familiar burn starting up in the backs of his thighs and the base of his spine and fucked into Lance with less care. Lance encouraged him, clenched around him, told him, “That’s it, yeah, Trav. Please, fuck...do it, do
it, I want it too.”

  He held Lance until he thought that he was giving him bruises, his hips snapping one last time. He slumped down and moved to the side, trying not to fall onto Lance and crush him.

  Lance collapsed as well, groaning and then making a face as he landed in the wet spot. “I’m going to have to do laundry because of you.”

  “I make you come twice and this is the thanks I get,” Travis huffed, but he knew that his voice was too full of affection for the irritation to carry any real weight.

  He pulled Lance to him, away from the mess, and grinned as Lance came willingly, settling in against Travis’s chest.

  “We should clean up,” Lance said.

  “Later,” Travis replied. Between the alcohol and the sex and all of the accompanying emotions, he was beat.

  Lance sighed, in kind of an odd way, like he was resigning himself to something. “Okay.”

  He let Travis curl around him, though, and Travis was pleased to find that just like Lance fit under the crook of his arm, he fit rather nicely tucked in front against Lance. It was silly, and Travis definitely wasn’t usually a cuddler or anything, but he liked the idea that Lance was right there...that they were touching every which way.

  This could be the start of something, Travis thought. Maybe… well, he’d never really been into relationships.

  They were just so complicated, weren’t they? They were full of pressure, and you had to get to know the person while also avoiding all of the land mines that were hidden that you didn’t even think to know about until you stepped on one. Why even bother when Travis had everything he needed already—besides sex—from his friends?

  This with Lance though, that wouldn’t be complicated. Lance was his best friend. They had all of the getting to know you parts covered. Travis didn’t have to worry about putting on a show for Lance, or being perfect, or anything like that. He wouldn’t even have to put in an effort really.

  This really could be the start of something.

  They’d talk in the morning.