Hunter and Morgan: Gatecrasher

by H. K. Nightingale

  "But you like being an uncle, right?"

  "I love Liam to bits. But after she got married and had him things weren't the same. And then there was the divorce, and…" Hunter put down his fork and took a gulp of peppery strawberry. Morgan got the impression he'd rather it had been vodka. "Look, let's not. Not tonight. Let's leave my torrid family history to one side. Is that okay?"

  "Of course," said Morgan.

  "So what about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

  "None. It was just me and mum."

  "Sounds peaceful."

  "It was, sort of."

  "And where does Caleb fit in?"

  "He's family, yes. I mean, not literally. But we've known each other for a long time. He's like a brother. Or, how I'd imagine a brother to be, at any rate."

  "That's good."

  "Yeah. Yeah it is."

  He wondered how many people Caleb had told he was out on a date with Hunter. A lot, he'd guess - Morgan going on a date was a very rare event. Hopefully he wouldn't put it on Facebook.

  Oh shit, what if he did? What if Pearl found out?

  He pulled out his phone and tapped wildly at the screen.

  >Calb dinf tell any1 about Huntr shouldn't fragernise

  "Everything all right?" said Hunter.

  Morgan's phone dinged.

  >Course I won't. And turn your ducking autocorrect back on.

  Morgan closed his eyes for a moment as relief washed over him. Then he looked at Hunter - gorgeous, golden Hunter, who was regarding him with a sort of benign amusement - and smiled.

  "Everything's brilliant," he said.

  Hunter's home was a three-story town house right in the city centre. As they stood on the doorstep while Hunter got his keys out, he told Morgan he'd bought it a few years back. It had been student flats for decades, run down and neglected. He'd been lovingly restoring it ever since. The ground floor was done, and the master bedroom upstairs, but the first floor bathroom still needed work and the second floor was a mess…

  Three floors. Right.

  The door opened onto a hallway, with a tiled floor, carpeted stairs and three stripped-pine doors.

  "C'mon in, I'll show you around," said Hunter.

  On the ground floor at the front of the house there was a living room that looked out onto the street. It was decorated in theatrical red and black, with three sofas arranged in a u-shape facing a big fireplace, which had a huge TV above it. There was a wooden floor and a sturdy black coffee table. It was very dramatic and bold, but Morgan could imagine it would look cosy with the candles lit and the shutters closed.

  The next room was a study, lined with books - psychology, thrillers, classics, philosophy, poetry. There was an upright piano against one wall, a desk against another. An acoustic guitar on a stand. There was a big old pub-style mirror on the chimney breast with Rose and Crown on it in swirly print. Very retro.

  "Do you play?" Morgan asked, indicating the piano.

  "Yeah, a bit. It was the one thing I liked about school."

  "Were you in a band?"

  "I got roped into a self-expression inclusive performance group for a term. Does that count?"

  Morgan patted him on the arm.

  An open plan kitchen/dining room ran the whole width of the house at the back. Large, triple-glazed windows looked out onto the back yard, illuminated by the lights from the alleyway beyond. On the dining side of the room there was a long grey-topped table with six chairs. The other side was a modern fitted kitchen, with a centre island and a long counter separating it from the dining area. It looked like something out of a showroom. Morgan leaned awkwardly on the counter, while Hunter turned on lights - just the ones under the cupboards that lit the counters, nothing too harsh - and put the kettle on. It was red, the same colour as the splash-back tiles. Most of the kitchen and dining area was glossy grey and white, with tasteful red accents. Unlike the other rooms he'd seen so far, which looked lived-in levels of untidy, the kitchen was immaculate. Morgan wondered if Hunter ever used it.

  None of what he'd seen so far was what he'd expected of Hunter's home. He'd imagined a smart executive flat, maybe. Compact but comfortable. But this… Morgan felt out of place and a bit naive. Hunter and Jess had been privately educated, after all, and Hunter had his own successful business. Morgan might have expected he'd have a big house.

  "So what d'you think of the place?" Hunter asked, setting a mug of tea down on the counter by Morgan's elbow.

  "It's very nice," Morgan said. "What I've seen so far, anyway."

  Hunter stepped in close and rested his hands on Morgan's hips. "Don't worry. You'll see the bedroom soon enough."

  Morgan's cheeks went hot. "No, I didn't, I mean–"

  "Shhh." Hunter's mouth was about as close to Morgan's as he could get without touching. "We're taking it slow, remember?"

  "How, um, slow, exactly?"

  "Well, that depends. Do you usually put out on the first date?"

  Morgan cleared his throat. His cheeks were still burning, but his cock never really cared about little things like dying of embarrassment and was getting very interested in proceedings. "Maybe."

  "Well, Morgan Kerry. You little go-er, you."

  "I'm not, that is I… I'm not easy."

  "Hmm… You were the one who gave me a blow job about ten seconds after our second kiss."

  "Ah." Hunter had him there. "I did, didn't I?"

  "You did." Hunter's thumbs rubbed at Morgan's hipbones. "And I've wanted to pay you back ever since."

  "You have?" squeaked Morgan.

  "Very much."

  Then Hunter kissed him. A quick brush of his lips at first, then a press, and then his tongue was in Morgan's mouth and they were going at it like teenagers. Morgan wasn't shy anymore, and he didn't care about the big, posh house, or the showroom kitchen, or any of it. He just wanted to strip Hunter out of his clothes and do naughty, naughty things to him. A lot of things. Quite urgently.

  Hunter dropped gracefully to his knees. His slender fingers made short work of Morgan's belt and fly. Morgan's trousers were a loose fit; they dropped of their own accord as soon as Hunter had released them. Hunter mouthed over the bulge in Morgan's underwear, his breath hot, his lips firm. Morgan cried out, knees weak, and he gripped the edge of the counter behind him. Hunter hooked his fingers into the waistband of Morgan's boxer briefs and peeled them carefully down. They joined his trousers in a tangle at his ankles, and his cock sprang up happily. Suddenly his balls were cupped in Hunter's palm and Hunter was kissing the soft, sensitive skin across his pelvis, from hipbone to belly. Morgan slid his fingers into Hunter's hair, whispering over his scalp. "Yes," he sighed.

  Hunter took the head of Morgan's cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, warm and wet and Morgan hadn't don't this for a long time, what with one thing and another, and Hunter was really, really good at it, working his way down inch by inch until Morgan could feel the tight constriction of Hunter's throat around his cock, and fuck, he'd never been properly deep-throated before and it was so intense, so incredibly hot.

  "You're good at that," he murmured, a masterful piece of understatement. Hunter squeezed Morgan's thigh by way of an answer. Morgan wondered if one day Hunter might let him just fuck his mouth, and thought maybe he would, but he didn't dare even ask because he had zero control and for Morgan sex was never about anybody dominating anybody. Well, apart from the thing that he maybe had fantasised once or twice about Hunter smacking his arse.

  His hips twitched at that thought, and Hunter slid off a bit, making a low groan that thrilled right though Morgan's cock.

  Then Hunter took the root of Morgan's cock in his fist and got serious with his tongue, licking the spot that tethered Morgan's foreskin, just under the head, and God, fuck, right there. The ridge of the counter bit into Morgan's back and Hunter's fingers dug into his thigh and things were tingling in an urgent sort of way.

  "Hunter, I'm gonna, I, you can–"

  Hunter sucked harder in reply
; everything went tight and hot and just on the edge of too much, and then Morgan's orgasm broke and his body spasmed, spilling come into Hunter's hot, sucking mouth. There was nothing in the world but the pleasure rocking through his body, the smell of sex and man and the soothing press of Hunter's tongue against his sensitive prick.

  Hunter's hands moved around to stroke Morgan's arse, soothing, gentle. Inquisitive.

  Oh God. Morgan had only just come and he could totally just turn around and offer himself up for fucking. But his legs seemed to be all quivery and trembling and not entirely capable of holding him up unaided.

  Hunter let go of his cock with a slurping sound and stood up, pulling Morgan in, wrapping his arms around him. "You're gorgeous," Hunter whispered into Morgan's ear. "Have I told you that yet?"

  "N-No," stammered Morgan, his brain still fuddled.

  "That's very remiss of me. I do apologise."

  Morgan chuckled into Hunter's shoulder and hugged him tight.

  Once Morgan was capable of standing without help, Hunter made fresh tea - jasmine, fragrant and delicious - and led him out of the kitchen. But not up to the bedroom, as Morgan expected. Hunter seemed determined to hold out on the bedroom. Instead he took him to the living room. He shut the shutters and switched on a few lamps. They sat on the couch opposite the fireplace. There was a wood-burning stove there. Morgan could imagine it being very cosy in wintertime, sitting here, watching the flames. Hunter tapped his phone and music came on. Morgan didn't recognise the band but it was soft and acoustic and perfect for a seduction. Not that Hunter needed to worry about that: Morgan had never felt so seduced in his entire life. He was quite thoroughly seduced, thank you very much.

  Hunter slid an arm around Morgan's shoulders and cuddled him in close. He kissed him, slow, gentle, like he was savouring him. Morgan sank into a warm bubble of post-coital pillowy goodness. Hunter played with Morgan's hair, teasing at the curls that bothered his ear.

  "I haven't been with anyone for a while," Hunter said. His voice was a bit overly-casual, like he'd been planning how to say it.

  "Me neither," said Morgan.

  "I don't really like the clubbing scene anymore and I'm not the best catch in the world."

  Same here, thought Morgan, but this time he kept quiet about himself and said, "I like you. Most of the time." He nuzzled at Hunter's shoulder. "When you're not being an insufferable arse."

  "That's immensely flattering, Morgan."

  Morgan stroked Hunter's belly through his shirt. It was tight, a bit tense. Possibly because he was trying to say something difficult, or maybe he was still really horny. Morgan suddenly realised he'd been totally selfish, he hadn't even offered payback for the amazing blow job.

  "I've never met anyone like you before," Hunter told him and boy, that was true in ways he didn't know. Yet. Morgan snuggled into him, imagining a day when he could actually look Hunter in the eye over breakfast and say, 'by the way, I'm majos' and Hunter would say, 'oh, darling, I always knew you were special' and it would all be perfect. Hunter had a good heart, under all the sarcasm and arseitude. Morgan just needed to put in a bit of work in advance. Gently introducing him to the facts of magic. He was intelligent. He'd understand, if it was presented in the right way.

  "Are you falling asleep?" Hunter asked.

  "No. I'm listening." Morgan kissed his neck and noticed the way Hunter leaned into it. Heh.

  "I suppose I'm saying… Shit, I have no idea what I'm saying."

  "You like me," Morgan said. "And I like you."

  "You do?"

  Morgan kissed him at the dip at the top of his jaw, just behind his ear. A little sound escaped Hunter's throat. Excellent. "Very much. Can't you tell?"

  "Blow jobs aren't the same as a meaningful relationship, Morgan."

  Morgan smiled to himself. "So, you're saying you want a meaningful relationship?"

  Hunter frowned, all cross-face. He'd given away more than he wanted to.

  "I'd like that," Morgan continued. "But sex and cuddles are great too."

  "Cuddles, Morgan?"

  "What do you think we're doing now?"

  Hunter looked down the length of their bodies, all nestled up together on the sofa. Morgan's socked feet were all tangled up with Hunter's. His fingers were stroking circles across Hunter's belly.

  Hunter kissed him, and this same thing that happened every time they kissed happened: fire (thankfully metaphorical) shot up Morgan's spine and he stopped thinking. Everything was tingles and fireworks. He yearned for skin to skin contact - a lot of skin to skin contact - touching and rubbing and tasting. Judging by the change in Hunter's breathing, the intensity in his ridiculously gorgeous eyes when he pulled back, the feeling was mutual.

  "I want you," Hunter said, helplessly. "In all kinds of ways."

  "And you can have me." Morgan grinned. "In all kinds of ways."

  "Oh God." Hunter kissed him again, pulling Morgan on top of him. Morgan's necklace swung down and bumped Hunter on the nose; Hunter huff-laughed.

  "Do you have lube in this bedroom of yours?" Morgan plucked at the buttons of Hunter's shirt.

  "Lube and condoms, yeah."

  He actually made it sound really hot.

  "I don't need condoms. You tested?"

  "A couple of months ago. After the last time I was with anyone. A bad decision on race day. Formal wear is my kryptonite."

  Morgan stashed that little nugget away for future reference. "No condoms, then. I like a lot of lube, though." He brushed his lips against the shell of Hunter's ear. "I'm very tight."

  Hunter groaned and gripped Morgan's arse. Morgan led the kiss this time, exploring the inside of Hunter's mouth with his tongue, drawing out all of these needy little moans from Hunter's throat.

  "Now," Hunter gasped, when Morgan pulled back for breath. "Upstairs."

  "Are you going to carry me up and throw me on the bed?"

  "No, I'm not. Health and safety, Morgan." Hunter smacked his arse. "Come on."

  They ran up the stairs, Hunter leading Morgan by the hand. There was a landing and doors and stairs going up again but Morgan got no more than a glimpse before Hunter flung open the door right in front of them and pulled him inside. He flipped a switch and lights came on in a warm glow. There was a huge, low bed, neatly made up with white-and-grey linen.

  Hunter cupped Morgan's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. Morgan was aware of lust flowing through his veins, twining with his magic, his pulse a steady throb, throb, throb, drinking Hunter in. The smell and feel and sound of him.

  "I want to fuck you," Hunter said. "Really. A lot."

  Morgan pulled back enough that Hunter's face was in focus, grinned his cheekiest grin and said, "So what're you waiting for?"

  Hunter growled and then they were on the bed, grappling with clothes and kissing hard. The grappling wasn't terribly effective, so Morgan pushed Hunter off to take the lead and pull his own shirt over his head. Hunter watched him in awe, as if this was a revolutionary notion and then followed suit. Morgan didn't take his eyes off Hunter for a second while they undressed, relishing every inch of golden skin that emerged. Hunter's body showed evidence of gym membership: muscles well-toned but not overly ripped. A dusting of fair hair over his chest led down to his belly button and a somewhat darker treasure trail beyond. He wore a chain around his neck with a tiny disc hanging from it. The long muscles in his thighs shifted as he kicked off his trousers and struggled with his socks.

  Hunter won the 'who can get their clothes off first' race, and gave Morgan's boxer briefs the final shove over his hips that rendered him naked. Then he pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, kissed him, his hands running over Morgan's chest and shoulders and arms, their dicks rubbing together hard and urgent.

  "I want it like this," Hunter hissed into Morgan's ear. "The first time. I want to be able to look into your eyes. Watch you come. Can you? Come, I mean, while–"

  "God, shut up. Yes. Yes. Just…" Morgan slid a
hand between their bodies and grabbed both of their cocks, more than one handful but a quick squeeze was enough to make his point. Hunter sucked in a breath and his eyes glazed over. "Want me to take the edge off?"

  Hunter shook his head.

  Morgan squeezed their dicks together again. Hunter grabbed his wrist. "No. Not yet. I've got to fuck you. Right now."

  Morgan took his hand away, enjoying the heavy bounce of Hunter's cock on his and gave Hunter's thigh a reassuring pat. "Okay. Yes."

  Hunter swung himself off Morgan and grabbed the lube from the bedside table. Morgan parted his legs, horniness him brazen. Hunter settled on his knees between Morgan's thighs and tipped him up a bit, so he could get his mouth on Morgan's balls, licking and nibbling his way down. Following the line of Morgan's taint down to his hole. Suddenly everything was warm and wet and nerve endings were zinging to life that hadn't had any attention for a long time. Hunter circled with his tongue and pressed in with one long, wet finger. Morgan held his breath at the intrusion, strange and uniquely intimate.

  Hunter made soothing noises, leaning his head against Morgan's thigh. Watching himself opening Morgan up with his fingers. Morgan tipped his hips up, making it clear he was one hundred percent on board with the whole being opened up thing.

  Once everything was really wet and squelchy, and Morgan was considering begging because he needed Hunter's dick inside him right this minute, Hunter dropped the lube and lined himself up. Morgan steadied himself, his hands on Hunter's shoulders - he hadn't been kidding, he really was tight, so used to controlling his body it could take him a while sometimes to loosen up. He took a breath, let it out as he felt the first blunt push of Hunter's cock on his hole. Hunter didn't try to get it inside, though. He slipped his finger back in instead, worked it around his cock and Morgan's hole, spreading the slick around. Then he pushed again. This time he got a little way inside. He paused and looked Morgan in the eye as he shoved another inch or so in, and this was it, now Morgan felt the stretch and the promise of pleasure. He sighed out another breath and let Hunter in.

  Hunter pushed in bit by bit by bit, until his pelvis was flush against Morgan's buttocks, and Morgan could squeeze the base of Hunter's dick with his arse. He cried out. He felt full, hot. His cock twitched itself back to full hardness, and Hunter's whole body shivered. For a second Morgan wondered whether he'd come straight away. But, no. Hunter raised his head and watched Morgan as he pulled out half way. Pushed back in. Oh God. Right there. "Right there." Out. In. Fuck, fuck, fuck.