The Center of Earth and Sky

by Sean Michael

  He pushed, rolling so that Grey lay on his back. He encouraged Grey's legs to spread, sliding between them and letting his hands dance over the soft, sensitive flesh between Grey's legs. “I'm going to love you, Grey,” he murmured against warm lips.

  “Yes, Whit.” Grey's eyes were shining, focused, love and need pouring from him.

  Raine stretched out beside them, hands sliding over their skin randomly, not intruding, but adding another layer to their connection. He smiled at Raine, giving him a soft, sweet kiss before again returning his attention to Grey.

  He poured oil on his hands sliding them together to warm it and then began to touch Grey. The long cock first, giving pleasure and taking it as his palms slid over the velvet heat. His hands moved beyond to the sensitive balls, caressing them before moving back further to the smooth as silk skin that slowly gave way to wrinkled flesh.

  Grey opened to him, knees parting further. So trusting, so hungry, so focused on him—Grey made him breathless. His finger was trembling as he stroked across the puckered opening, teasing at first, letting Grey become used to the feeling of him being there, of someone not Raine being there.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, suddenly aware of the magnitude of what they were doing.

  “Do you love me?” The question was pure Grey—simple, quiet, focused.

  “Oh, Grey ... yes. Yes, I do, Grey. I love you.” As he said the words, his finger slid deep into his lover's body.

  “Oh...” Grey sighed, body arching and undulating for him. “Yes. I am sure. Our Whit. My love.”

  Grey's body clutched at him, held his finger in tight, silky heat. He stroked Grey inside—inside!—his other hand sliding over the dark skin, tracing the hard muscles of Grey's belly as they twitched every time his finger moved.

  Raine's fingers slowly stroked Grey's hair, relaxing and gentling. Grey's eyes never left his, dark and glittering. He let one finger become two, pushing smoothly, searching once he was inside, for that place that would make Grey's eyes light with pleasure. When he found it, Grey's eyes widened, body arching and full, kiss-swollen lips parting. It was Raine's voice that sounded, speaking for Grey in pleasure as in every other thing. “Oh, Whit! Touch him again, love. Make him fly. My Grey, so beautiful in pleasure, so bright and strong. So good.”

  He repeated the motions, again and again, watching the pleasure in Grey's eyes, hearing it echoed in Raine's voice. He was mesmerized by them both, wrapped inside them.

  Grey's eyes were dazed, soft gasps falling between them. “Is he hot inside, Whit? Is he holding you tight? Can you feel him loving you?”

  “So tight. So wonderful—I can feel his love, Raine, feel him loving me so much.”

  “Yes, Whit...” Grey's eyes shone, full of unshed tears. “So much.”

  Raine's moan was awed, soft. “Yes. Oh, my sweet, strong, brave Grey. So much.”

  He made a soft, whimpering noise and closed his lips over Grey's for a long kiss. “I love you,” he whispered into Grey's mouth.

  Raising his head, he repeated the kiss with Raine, and the words as well. “I love you.”

  “As we love you.” Raine's hands caressed his face. “Our Whit. Love him, make him soar, make him fly.”

  He nodded, hands fumbling with the oil, spreading it over his cock and then he was pressing against Grey's entrance.

  “I love you,” he said again as he pushed into the tightest heat he had ever felt.

  Grey groaned, eyes closing as Whit stretched that hot, tight body, making room for his cock. Raine's hands rubbed over Grey's belly, pushing the taut muscles.

  “He's wider than we are, my Grey. Relax, let him inside. Feel how he stretches you, loves you.” Raine's eyes met his. “You're the only one, Whit, besides me. Ever. Our Grey keeps his love so close.”

  It made him shudder, made him whimper. “Open your eyes, Grey,” he whispered as he continued to push carefully, oh so slowly, in. “Let me see.”

  Grey's eyes opened and Whit could see himself, reflected in the shining black. Grey's body welcomed him, seemed to pull him inside, hold him close. As his cock sank into Grey's body, he felt as if all of him were sinking into Grey, until they were joined together more than just cock and ass. Grey held him so tightly, didn't want to let him go. It felt so good, almost too much. When he began to move, he was sure it was too much and knew that it would not be long before he was coming, bringing this glorious joining to an end.

  Raine's hands wrapped around Grey's cock, sliding against his belly with every stroke. They moved together, arching and gasping and needing and moaning, Grey's hands gripping his shoulders as they made love.

  He shifted, changing his angle, searching for Grey's gland again, wanting to send his lover soaring. When he hit it, Grey convulsed, a low roar filling the air, lifting his knees. Raine's hands grabbed Grey's legs, holding that hard, hungry body open for him. He moved hard and fast, hitting Grey's gland with every thrust, one of his hands sliding down to wrap around Grey's cock, pumping in time.

  Grey's lips were parted, loud cries filling the air, echoing. Those dark eyes were wide, open, staring. Stunned and needy and beautiful. Magical.

  “Oh Grey ... Raine, look at him, look at his face. So beautiful...” He leaned forward, kissing Raine first and then Grey. Sky and earth, his world. “I love you.”

  “Love. Whit. Oh.” Grey's hips met each thrust, cock hard as nails in Whit's hand. Tears slid from Grey's eyes and Raine sipped them from the dark skin. “Love you.”

  “Coming, Grey, I'm coming. Please ... come with me.”

  “Yes. Yes, please. Yes.” Grey's body jerked, body clutching him so tight, muscles milking his cock as liquid heat poured over his hand.

  He shuddered, pleasure shooting from his balls to his cock and up along his spine. He could feel it in his belly and in his toes and in his heart.

  Raine's lips were warm and soft and flavored with Grey's tears. “So beautiful. You are so beautiful.”

  “No, it is you two who are beautiful.”

  “Us. Together.” Grey's voice was raw, almost a growl.

  He could feel the rightness of Grey's words and he bent to kiss his lover. “Yes, Grey. All of us together.”

  Grey kissed him, holding him close. Raine drew a blanket around them, then pulled them both into his arms. “Will you stay tonight? Let us hold you?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “I'll wake you in the morning. Sleep.” Grey was curled around him, already snoring softly, relaxed and quiet. Raine stroked Whit's forehead. “You're safe here. Happy. Sleep.”

  He raised his head to kiss Raine's fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly.

  “Sleep, my love.”

  He nodded and let his eyes close, nuzzled close between his lovers.

  He relaxed, held tight. By the time Raine moved to blow out candles, do dishes, answer emails, he was sound asleep, dreams held at bay by watchful dark eyes and warm, steady heartbeats.

  * * * *

  He watched the other half of his soul go with a sigh, watching the taxi until he couldn't see it anymore. Three whole nights apart. Three whole nights sleeping in different cities, on different coasts while Raine took care of the final bits of business in San Fran.

  He locked up the store, leaving a note that there would be no showings until Monday. No showings. No appointments. No phone calls. No Friday night fun. Nothing but sleeping and waiting and missing his Raine. He sighed and walked outside to assure himself that the gallery was locked up too, before heading upstairs to hibernate.

  The rain was bitter cold, sky growing darker, more grim.

  There was a man in a dark coat and a black umbrella standing at the gallery window, looking in.

  As he came near, the umbrella tilted back, revealing a familiar face.

  Whit.

  “Whit.” He smiled, warmth filling him, making him happy for a moment until he remembered Raine was gone. “You missed him.”

  Whit nodded. “I spoke to him on the phone today
. I asked if it would be all right if I came and stayed with you while he was gone. He said I could, but that you might not want me to.” Brown eyes looked up at him, so full of warmth. “Do you want me to, Grey?”

  “Oh...” His smile widened, that happiness flaring again deep inside him. He nodded, words caught in his throat, trapped. He held out his hand, offering it to Whit. Oh, yes. Yes, please. Please, stay.

  Whit must have heard the silent words because a warm hand slid into his own, squeezing gently and Whit smiled brightly. “I brought supper—from that Greek place by the school.” Whit held up a bulging white plastic bag and suddenly looked like a boy with a secret as he stepped close. “Two pieces of chocolate mousse cake each for dessert.”

  “Two? Really?” He opened the door and let Whit in, taking a long, slow kiss as soon as the door shut behind them. He had thought he would just go to bed, hide. But Whit wanted to be with him, see him.

  There were two thuds as Whit dropped the umbrella and the bag, arms winding around his neck and holding him close.

  “Two, really. I thought we could start with dessert. Or maybe start with each other and work our way up to food.”

  “Yes.” He pushed off Whit's coat, pushing against his lover.

  His lover.

  Their Whit.

  Whit hit the wall with a soft sound, breath whooshing out of him and into Grey's mouth. “I was worried you wouldn't let me stay. I was going to bribe you with the extra dessert.”

  “I might be bad company,” he warned. He didn't talk when Raine was away, didn't know what to say, how to communicate as only half a man. Half a man with a thoughtful, dear lover who wanted to spend time with him.

  “Will you hold me and eat my dessert?”

  “Yes. Yes, please.”

  “That sounds like perfect company to me.” Whit pressed their lips together again in a quick, hard kiss.

  “Oh...” He took another kiss and another and then one more, heart beating hard in his chest.

  He never thought, never hoped that Whit would want to spend time with him alone. Raine, yes. Raine talked and played and laughed and was Raine. Everyone fell in love with his Raine. Raine fell in love with everyone.

  Grey had fallen in love with Whit.

  It was Whit who pulled away from their kisses first. “Take me upstairs, Grey. I don't want to do this in the stairwell—I want to do it in your bed.”

  “Oh, yes.” He bent, picking up the food and the umbrella. He would love that, love to relax and touch and doze and love Whit in the soft, warm bed. “Yes.”

  A warm hand trailed over his bent back, his ass and the back of his thighs. “Good.”

  Whit preceded him up the stairs, coat over his arm, trailing along the stairs.

  The apartment was warm, pleasant, and not lonely. Not silent. Not empty because Whit was there.

  He smiled and put the umbrella in the stand and the bag on the table before turning back to Whit, holding open his arms. Whit flung his coat toward the hooks and stepped into his arms, face raised for another kiss.

  “Whit.” They shared another deep, long kiss, Whit's sweetness and spice making his head spin, making him need and want and ache.

  Whit moved out of his arms and pulled a Styrofoam container from the bag. Then his hand was taken and Whit led him toward the bed. “You don't mind if we eat with our fingers, do you?”

  “No.” Grey grinned, following closely. “Not at all.”

  Whit put the container down on the side table, toed off his sneakers and climbed onto the bed and then turned and held out his arms in an echo of Grey's own move earlier.

  Grey slipped off his own shoes and crawled into Whit's waiting arms, trembling with the sweet honor of being cared for. “Hey there.”

  “Hey, beautiful man.” Whit's lips were warm and open, tongue searching inside his mouth.

  He shuddered, pressing down into Whit's body with a soft purr of pleasure. So warm. So loving. So Whit. Whit's hands smoothed the shirt down his back as they kissed and then slid between them, searching for his buttons.

  He would have helped, would have started removing Whit's clothes, but his hands were busy with soft hair, smooth cheeks, hot skin.

  “God, you're so sexy,” Whit's voice was soft, almost reverent except for the need that slid through it like old whiskey. The buttons of his shirt gave way beneath Whit's determination and then warm fingers were on his skin, stroking him.

  He moaned into Whit's lips, hunger flaring inside him, his cock throbbing and caught in his slacks. He focused on the flavor and heat of Whit's mouth, the need there. He imagined he could taste Raine in Whit's mouth, a reminder of how good they all were together.

  How much they all loved. How much he loved. How much he was loved.

  Whit's fingers slid across his nipples, coming back to rub them harder as soft moans and gasps were pushed into his mouth.

  “Whit...” He tugged at the bottom of Whit's shirt, cock throbbing with every touch. His head was swimming, tongue searching for every bit of passion, every place that made Whit cry out.

  “Oh, God, Grey, I need you so badly.” Whit's hands were roaming wildly, fingers tugging at his belt.

  He nodded, pulling back and unfastening his pants, shoving them over his hips. “Yours too, Whit. Need you.”

  “Yes, Grey, yes.”

  Whit's fingers moved to his own pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper, the movements quick and eager. Wriggling, Whit pulled down his pants and kicked them away, his cock hard, red, eager.

  Grey groaned, pushing atop Whit and covering those sweet, hot lips with his own. Their cocks slid together and they both cried out. Whit's arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close. He slid a hand beneath Whit's ass, pulling them together as his hips began to rock, sliding their cocks together again and again. Whit moved beneath him, eager and wanting, body fluid and fine.

  The intensity grew quickly, sparking between them like fire, kisses growing harder, needier. Grey growled low, gathering Whit close as they devoured one another. Whit gasped and whimpered, pushing up against him, hands grasping and pulling at his skin.

  He moved, sliding his arms beneath Whit's knees, tilting Whit's body. His cock nudged against the sweet tight opening, drops of his own pleasure slicking and wetting. He looked into Whit's eyes, looking for want, for desire, to know that his lover needed this as much as he did.

  “Yes, Grey. Do it. I want to feel you inside.” Whit's voice was shaking with need, with want.

  “Yes.” He pushed inside, moving slowly and steadily, watching Whit's eyes. He wouldn't hurt, but he couldn't wait, growling low as heat surrounded him.

  His lover's eyes grew wide and dark, the hands on his arms tightening. “Don't stop,” Whit whispered, breathing deeply, body suddenly drawing him in.

  He groaned, lips fastening onto Whit's shoulder as their bodies melded together. It was too good to take slowly; the need was too big, their hunger too fierce. He began to move, holding Whit tight as he thrust.

  “Oh, Grey, so good.” Whit's hands slid though his hair, fingers tangling.

  “Yes. Whit.” He leaned forward, pushing harder, deeper, more. “Whit.”

  “Grey.” Whit panted his name, smiling up at him, eyes a little dark, a little wild.

  “Beautiful.” He leaned in and took a hard kiss, sobbing into Whit's lips.

  Whit's cry pushed into his mouth, his lover shuddering beneath him, come spreading between them. The scent of Whit hit him, rich and sweet, and he came, crying out his pleasure in his lover's mouth.

  Whit kissed him through his orgasm, mouth soft and warm and giving. He eased Whit's legs down, snuggling close, lips never leaving his lover's.

  Whit just kept holding on.

  “You taste even better than chocolate mousse cake.”

  He smiled, cheeks heating. “Thank you for coming over, Whit. For being with me.”

  “Thank you for letting me.” Whit's own cheeks were heating. “I didn't want to spend t
he weekend on my own. I've gotten used to being with you and ... Raine.”

  “Yes.” He stroked Whit's cheek and jaw. “I would miss you even as I missed him.”

  Whit nuzzled into the touches. “Now we can miss him together.”

  He nodded. “And learn each other.”

  Whit's hand slid along his cheek, the brown eyes soft. “Yes.”

  His cock slipped from Whit's body and they both moaned. He curled close, snuggling. “Yes.”

  “I want to know all about Grey Holstein—in Grey words—I already know about him in Raine words.”

  “Oh...” He nuzzled Whit's shoulder, pleased down past his bones. No one but Raine ever wanted to hear and Raine knew everything. “I ... Whatever you want to know. Anything.”

  “Not anything, Grey—everything.”

  “Oh. Whit.” He beamed, tongue-tied and unsure, but so honored.

  Whit chuckled. “No, not Whit—I already know all about me.”

  Whit rubbed their noses together and gave him a soft kiss.

  He blinked and licked along Whit's bottom lip. “What should I tell you? Where do I start?”

  “Tell me about the things you love.”

  “Things?” He settled his head on Whit's shoulder. “Black and white photographs, 17th Century woodworking, books, plums. What about you?”

  “You already know about the things I love,” Whit told him with a small laugh. “This is a time for you, Grey. Tell me about the photographs. About taking them. About loving them. Tell me why plums and not strawberries.”

  They curled together beneath the covers, talking as the storm built outside and then faded, leaving them loving and learning in the dark. Grey told Whit how he liked the smooth skin of purple plums, why he never wore yellow, that he was allergic to penicillin, dandelions and cashews. They talked about growing up, about breaking apart, about falling in love. They talked about work and life and where they wanted to go on vacation and whether they were going to hide chocolate eggs at Easter.

  They talked until Grey fell asleep, still whispering against Whit's shoulder, warm and loved and at peace. He dreamed that his Raine was there with them.

  May