by Sean Michael
“Nope. Fight with a boyfriend.”
Rec’s eyes went wide. “He ripped it out?” What the hell?
“Yeah.”
“Shit. Did you get him on domestic abuse?” Because that wasn’t right. Not for a second. Normal people didn’t do that kind of shit.
“Nah. It was an asshole thing to do. We broke up.”
“I should hope so. I wouldn’t stay with someone who did that to me.” He pinched the scarred nipple gently. “Is it still sensitive?”
“The other is more, but it’s not numb or anything.” Barclay arched up, pushed into his fingers. Rec loved the unspoken demand for more. Looked like he didn’t need to worry about being gentle with the scarred nipple.
“And you like nipple play.” That much was clear from Barclay’s reactions to his touches. He moved to pinch the other nipple. It would be easy to get distracted by the interesting sensation of scars under his fingers and wind up neglecting the whole nipple.
“Yeah. I do. I don’t mind it at all.”
There was a difference between didn’t mind and enjoyed. He flicked the right nipple, watching Barclay’s face to see if he could tell which one was more true. If he was a betting man, his money would be on enjoyed.
Barclay’s body shifted, his face softening. That was better than “didn’t mind it.” Rec tried a little harder touch, figuring someone who’d worn a nipple ring liked the harsher touches as well as the soft ones.
“Mmm. Pull a little. I don’t mind.”
Barclay needed to lose the casual “I don’t mind” when describing his pleasure level.
Rec tugged even harder, then gave the nip a bit of a twist. Barclay gasped and arched for him, looking a little surprised, but not unhappy. Good. He knew how to take care of someone who needed a bit of a firmer touch.
In fact, he sort of excelled at it.
Smiling down at Barclay, he moved back to the scarred nipple to test its sensitivity, to test if Barclay still appreciated a firm touch there as well. He pinched, lightly at first, but slowly tightening his fingers to increase the sharpness of the pinch.
“Fuck….” Barclay shifted, hips searching fruitlessly for friction.
Nice. Better than nice. Rec covered Barclay’s erection with his free hand, pressing against the straining flesh. It was so good, and he could only imagine how much hotter it would be without Barclay’s sweats in the way. He pressed harder still, then pinched Barclay’s nipple again, layering sensation on top of sensation.
“Oh. Oh fuck yeah. Please. Please, man.”
“We should tug your sweats down, B.” He knew creaming your sweats was not enjoyable. Not that Barclay couldn’t borrow something of his, but he had an ulterior motive—he wanted to see and touch Barclay’s erection without the interference of material.
Barclay seemed on board with that. “Yeah. Yeah, give a dude a hand?”
“I’ve got two and they’re all yours.” He couldn’t hold back his grin as he worked Barclay’s sweats down. His noises turned into groans as the hard flesh popped into view. “Very nice.”
Rec grabbed hold and stroked, holding that lean prick and petting it. Barclay’s eyes went wide and he whimpered.
“Oh God. It’s been so long.” Barclay panted softly, eyes gone vacant, like all his attention was on the touches on his prick.
Rec was so glad he could give this to Barclay. He liked the guy a lot and being able to help like this was wonderful.
Barclay hummed and arched, trying his best to move into the touches. It didn’t look very natural, or comfortable.
“You’re not in the best position for that,” Rec noted. Barclay was at a disadvantage with his ass on the couch and his legs up higher, across Rec’s leg.
“Sorry. Sorry, I just can’t… damn.”
“Easy. Just let me get you off.” He held a little tighter and stroked a little harder, still playing with Barclay’s nipples with his other hand. No erections for over a year—Barclay deserved this orgasm and more. And he deserved for it to be great. Not that there really was any such thing as a bad orgasm.
Barclay began to cry out over and over, the soft sounds addictive; Rec wanted to hear more of them. He wanted to hear them a lot. He alternated which nipple he stroked, and every now and then pinched, just to give Barclay some different sensations.
He rubbed his thumb across the tip of Barclay’s cock, watching the pleasure chase across Barclay’s face. Nice.
“Good hands, man.” Barclay bared his teeth a little.
“I like touching. I like touching you.” He kept doing it. He wanted to get Barclay off. Really, really.
“Gonna… soon, man. Soon.”
“That’s the idea, B.” Very much the idea. He pressed his thumb into Barclay’s slit, a bit harder this time to increase the ache.
“B.” Barclay repeated the nickname with a smile, then shot, the act looking as easy as pie.
Rec kept stroking, pulling every last drop of pleasure out of Barclay. “You smell good.” It meant they were compatible, that smell.
“I—you—thank you.”
He let go of Barclay’s cock and patted it gently. “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure. Well, both our pleasures.”
“Uh-huh. Yes. Totally. Yes.”
He chuckled. Barclay was cute when still come-addled. The pinched, worried look was completely gone, replaced with ease and contentment.
Rec leaned in and stole another kiss, keeping it light and lazy. Barclay moaned and kissed him back, tongue sliding against his. Groaning, he grabbed hold of Barclay’s tongue and sucked on it as it passed through his mouth.
“Mmm.” When Barclay cupped Rec’s cock, it startled him, the firm touch surprising but just right.
He didn’t let it freeze him for long, and he began to move, helping out and pushing into Barclay’s touch.
“Yeah. Yeah, man. Let me have skin?” Barclay asked, voice slightly thick.
“Fuck yeah.” Rec grabbed at his jogging shorts, trying to get the strings undone. He should have worn some Lycra workout shorts, but he’d deliberately chosen a pair that wouldn’t cling and lovingly outline every inch of his cock.
Barclay grinned, eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Cool.”
“Not feeling very cool at the moment. Feeling hot. Needy. Want your hand.” He finally got the ties on his shorts undone and raised his ass as he shoved the shorts down.
“I’m on it.” Barclay wrapped a hand around his cock and squeezed, jacking Rec nice and slow.
Rec groaned and dropped his head back against the couch. Fuck, it felt good. It had been a while since he’d had a helping hand. “Oh yeah. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. Promise, man.”
“Good man.” The words came out husky, betraying how much Barclay’s touch was affecting him. Half of him wanted to get off hard and fast, the other half wanted for it to take some time so he could linger, enjoy the pleasure for longer.
Barclay offered his lips for another kiss, and Rec took them eagerly. He delved his tongue into Barclay’s mouth, picking up the flavor that was pure Barclay.
“You taste great,” he murmured against Barclay’s lips before diving back in for more kisses. The sensation of Barclay’s hand around his cock merged with the kisses, becoming one sensation. God, Barclay’s touches felt good.
And Barclay was generous with them, touching him everywhere, letting him feel it all.
“Gonna make me come.” He could tell from the sensation in his balls that it wouldn’t be much longer before he shot.
Barclay’s soft chuff of laughter wasn’t in the least bit mocking. “That’s totally the idea, dude.”
Rec laughed out loud, and as he did, he came, spunk shooting from him and up over Barclay’s hand, adding his scent to the smells of sex on the air….
“Mmm. Better, huh?” Barclay’s touch eased up, nice and slow.
“Uh-huh. Now I’m feeling melted and lazy. I sure hope you don’t want anything, ’cause it’s going to have to wait.
” He was pretty sure his leg bones were currently made of cooked pasta—overcooked pasta at that.
“’M good, man. Just fine. Think the movie’s over, though.” Barclay pointed at the TV, and now that he was paying attention, Rec heard the repetitious music as the title menu screen played the same twenty-second clip over and over.
“So it is.” Grabbing the remote, he turned it off. “I’ll get up and put the next one in soon, I swear.” He was feeling too lazy to do it right now. He did love that feeling of postorgasmic bonelessness.
“Mmm. I’m good for now. Honest.” Barclay looked like how he felt, really.
“Yeah. Me too.” Rec chuckled softly. “I’m feeling pretty mellow.” He thought he’d needed that, for sure. He thought Barclay had needed it even more.
“Mellow’s a good word for it.” Barclay cracked an eye open to look at him. “Postorgasmic nap is another.”
That had him laughing again. He was discovering that he loved laughing with Barclay. “So you’re a come-and-fall-asleeper, are you?”
Barclay pinked—only a touch. “Just been a while, you know?”
“Yeah, you mentioned there hadn’t even been any self-love going on since you got hurt. I’m glad to be the one to break your dry spell.”
“I appreciate the hand. Really. That was cool.” The smile on Barclay’s face said it louder than his words.
“It was my pleasure, B. So anytime. Anytime at all.” He totally wanted to do it again. And soon. Maybe horizontally next time. With lots more touching. And exploring.
He wanted to play.
Rec could be patient, though. And right now Barclay needed a nap, for more than just the postorgasmic sleepies. Barclay was clearly still honestly tired. No doubt from the twitching and aching in his legs keeping him awake at night.
He switched the tuner to pick up the music from his phone and set it playing something soft and easy. He helped Barclay shift so he was sitting properly on the couch—the armrest really wasn’t enough to rest against unless you were actually lying down and not just reclining as Barclay had been. Barclay leaned up against him, the man obviously craving connection. Rec shifted them again, only slightly this time, so they were both more comfortable, and he patted Barclay’s side.
They’d watch some more movies after they napped. He dropped his head back against the couch and let his eyes close. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep after an orgasm. He was glad this time it was with Barclay.
Chapter Three
BARCLAY WOKE warm and cozy, wrapped around a strong body.
Weird. Nice, but weird. Certainly not a thing he’d done in a long time. He’d forgotten how good it was to wake up and not be alone. Oh, who was he kidding—he hadn’t forgotten; he’d pushed it to the back of his mind because he hadn’t had any other options.
He shifted, stopping short as he found a kink in his muscles. Ow. He often woke up with aches and pains, but this was a lot sharper—affecting his leg and his back. It was no doubt from falling asleep sitting up and leaning partway over, putting his muscles in positions they hadn’t enjoyed in some time.
The body he was wrapped around grunted, a hand petting his hip. “Shh. Shh. Easy now.”
“I gotta move. Hurts.” Working the muscles was the only way to get the pain to back off—usually stretching to ease the pressure from the unusual position.
Rec popped up immediately. “Damn. Sorry, man. What’s hurting?”
“Hip. Hip. Help.” He started to flail as each movement intensified the pain and he felt like he was going to fall.
Rec got off the couch and knelt next to him, hands warming his hip right away. Finally, Rec began his massage.
“Oh God. God. Please.” Oh, that was better. It usually took ages for him to feel up to moving enough to grab the pain pills he kept by the mattress. Today the pain began to fade at the first touches.
Rec dug in harder, insisting that his muscles ease. “What do you usually do when you have a bad cramp?”
“Yell.” A lot.
“That doesn’t sound very efficient.” Rec gave him a half smile, but he could tease as much as he wanted if he just kept easing Barclay’s leg.
“No. But I’m on the floor at least, so that’s cool.” His pills were usually within reach once he could bring himself to roll over toward them.
Rec snorted. “Doesn’t sound cool to me.”
“No. It sucks. It hurts.” It was what it was, and Rec didn’t want to listen to him sitting here and crying like a baby. “Sorry. Whining.”
Rec’s face was half-twisted, half-frown. “I’ll give you a pass under the circumstances.”
“The circumstances?”
“Yeah, you know, the falling off the damn roof circumstance.”
“Yeah. That one.” Barclay didn’t want to think about that shit. He especially didn’t want to think about how he had “fallen.” Or even if he had fallen.
Rec kept working his hip, and Barclay shuddered when it finally gave in to those insistent fingers and eased for him. Rec must have known because he leaned in and kissed Barclay’s belly. His lips were soft and warm.
“God. Thank you. Thank you. That was intense. Sorry.” He needed to stop being a shit and suck it up. This had been going on for over a year. You’d think he’d be more used to it by now.
“You don’t have to apologize for hurting, B. I know you’d rather be doing pretty much anything else.”
“Yeah, it’s a bitch.” And he hated it. He wanted his life back, dammit.
“You’re getting better every day, though. And you’ll see improvement in leaps and bounds as you strengthen your muscles back up.” Rec stopped massaging, leaving his hands on Barclay’s hip, keeping it warm. “Better, or do you need more?”
“I’m better. I’m sorry.” He needed the bathroom actually. “Can you reach my crutches? I’m going to have to pee.” That was the hardest thing at home—being on the floor and having to get himself off the ground and into his chair to go to the bathroom.
“Sure thing.” Rec grabbed his crutches in one hand, then offered him the other. “I’ll help you get vertical.”
“Thanks. Thanks.” He grabbed hold of Rec’s hand and stood. Then he swayed and found his center before he started the slow, painful trek down the hall. Thank God it wasn’t very far. There were plusses to having a smallish apartment, as he knew well himself. Rec’s was bigger than his, though. And nicer by far.
Rec saw him all the way to the door. “Just shout out if you need any help,” Rec called out as Barclay got the door shut behind him.
He did his business, then eased himself up and back out the door. He needed to go home pretty soon, even if he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, and he wasn’t sure exactly what time the buses stopped running on a Saturday night. Hopefully he could get the time schedule online or something before he had to go so he wasn’t waiting too long at the stop.
Rec was leaning against the wall a few feet down from the bathroom and had his phone in his hand. “I’m just ordering pizza. I’m getting a meatlovers. What kind do you want? And wings, yay or nay?”
“Gotta love a trainer who provides pizza. That’s cool. I love wings.” Okay, so maybe he could stay a little longer.
“Hey, I’ll help you work it off later.” Rec gave him a wink and continued putting the order through on his phone as they made their way back to the living room at his slow-crutching pace. “It should be here within forty-five minutes. You need anything to tide you over?”
“Nah. I’m great, thanks.” He sat carefully, then put his crutches out of the way beneath the sofa.
“You want to do Thor next?” Rec asked, bending over in front of the TV to take the Iron Man disc out of the player.
Oh, that was pretty. “Uhn.”
“Is that your comment on the pretty man who plays Thor?” Rec asked, laughing softly.
“Sure.” Not a chance. It was all about the man right in front of him. Pretty ass.
Rec bent again, offering him that great view once more, and put the new movie in, then rejoined him on the couch, sitting close. Putting his arm around Barclay’s shoulders, Rec tugged him a touch closer. “This good?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” It really was. He felt warm, comfortable, solid. Rec was easy to be with and made him feel good. Wanted. He hadn’t felt that since longer than he’d been out of commission due to the accident.
“Don’t get jealous if Thor gets me hot,” Rec teased.
“I can’t compete with that big guy, man. No worries.” He did stunts because he wasn’t talented enough or pretty enough to be an actor. Not that he didn’t love his job, because he did. And he wanted to get back to it.
Rec squeezed him gently and pressed their heads together. “Not to mention, you’re right here.”
What did that even mean? He smiled and leaned harder, letting himself relax.
Rec rested their heads together, seemingly content to watch the movie while they waited for their food. Barclay watched the movie with half an eye, mostly focused on Rec, but also paying attention to how he himself was doing. It was the first time in a long while he’d felt this good in his own skin.
Rec turned to look at him at one point, catching his gaze. Smiling at him, Rec brought their mouths together in slow motion.
Oh. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised by the kiss, but he was. It was deep and warm, steady. Rec’s eyes were equally warm and steady, looking into him. He felt like Rec really saw him.
He let himself press closer and lean hard, one hand in the center of Rec’s chest so he could feel the strong heartbeat. Rec hummed for him, the sound vibrating in his mouth, almost tickling.
Damn, he rarely wanted a twofer, but Rec was inspiring. His cock was already on the rise, like it was trying to get Rec’s attention. Stupid body, but damn it felt good to want it. To be hard again. Again. How amazing was that after his long drought in that department?
Rec slid his hand across Barclay’s leg, moving slowly toward his cock—too damn slowly—and it ratcheted the tension up to the point where he found himself holding his breath as he waited for Rec’s hand to finally reach its destination.
