by Amy Lane
Ross smirked and barely refrained from just pouncing on him right there, in the living room, bent over the couch like he’d planned all along. “Busted.”
Tenner sniffed the air. “Did you put the steaks in to broil?”
“Yeah.” Ross turned and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the kitchen and the set table and the flowers. “I figured those had our name on them, right?”
“You’re very astute,” Tenner mumbled.
“Well, you’re very sweet. I haven’t been wined and dined in quite some time.”
“I’d ask about that other thing, but it’s none of my business.”
Ross laughed quietly. “Sure it is. Here, sit. Let me pour you some wine. It’s tasty stuff, by the way. California has some of the best.”
Tenner made himself comfortable at the table, swinging the chair around so he could watch Ross work. “I like it. White, not red, though. Sorry. Red gives me a headache.”
“Yeah, it does that for lots of people. White’s fine.” Ross poured Tenner a glass and topped off his own before putting the bottle back in the fridge. “Here. You had carrot sticks so I figured we’d amuse-bouche.”
“Is that really a verb?” Tenner challenged, and Ross had to laugh again.
“God, you’re a handful. Now sit and let me regale you with my many sexcapades, so you might judge me for the manwhore I am.”
Tenner laughed outright at that. “This is a sales pitch? Buddy, I might want my steak back.”
“Too late, steak’s mine. I licked it before I put it in to broil.”
More laughter, and Tenner hadn’t even had a sip of chardonnay. “You did not!”
“You’ll never know,” Ross returned primly. “Now, let’s see… how many ways are there to get laid in the Amazon jungle?”
“Not that many, I’d wager,” Tenner said, sobering.
Ross waggled his eyebrows. “You’d be surprised.” But Tenner was just regarding him with that intent expression, so he figured he needed to stop dancing around the point. “Okay, fine. I’ve been doing fieldwork since I’ve gotten out of college. I go somewhere for a few months, then I come home to the most lucrative consultant job, I get my grant written, and I go back out. Most of the time, I avoid entanglements. We work damned hard out there, and male or female, everybody needs sleep.”
“But when you’re here in the States?” Tenner prodded.
“Well, it’s like vacation. I’m in, I’m out—everybody knows the score. This time’s different, though,” he acknowledged. “This time I’m coming back to the same place.”
“Are you waving that in front of me like a carrot?” There was bitterness in his voice, and Ross had to take a breath.
“I’m… I’m telling you not to judge a relationship before it starts. I mean….” He bit his lip, finding himself in deep water. “What I do, it’s an act of faith and hope, Tenner. We have not been kind to our environment, and I have to scrape and money-grub and kiss a lot of ass to convince corporations to help me go out and fix things. And it could take a price out of my soul if I let it. But it’s worth it, because what’s the alternative? Give up? It’s the same thing with a relationship. What’s the alternative? Give up? Assume there is no happy ending… ever?”
Tenner took a thoughtful sip of wine. “No,” he said.
“It’s like fixing the planet. Reduce carbon emissions. Stop fracking. Stop dumping toxic chemicals into our food supply. So many small steps we can take. So, you know. A glass of wine, step one. A steak, step two.”
“I hear you,” Tenner said. “What made you decide to do what you do? I mean, it’s amazing. Just knowing that you go out into the world and tramp the jungle and look for ways to reforest and clean water supplies and revitalize growth, I think that’s really awesome. But how did you get started?”
Ross checked the timer on the steak and took his own thoughtful sip of wine to try to track the memory.
“Did you grow up in California?” he asked.
“No. The Midwest.” Tenner breathed in thoughtfully. “Nebraska. Nina used to call it Nebransas, and she wasn’t far wrong.”
“Lots of flat land there,” Ross agreed.
“It was like a prison of farmland,” Tenner said with a shudder. “God, that scholarship to Sacramento—of all places, right? There’s still a lot of rural in Sacramento. But there’s also the ocean and the mountains. It really is still like an escape.”
Ross smiled a little. “Yeah. So farmland—were your parents farmers?”
“No. Dad’s in law enforcement. Mom worked at the school. Why?”
“Because… you tend to be attached to the seasons here in California. I mean, we just got out of one of our longest droughts in history, and when there’s no drought, areas are flooding. Well, when I was a kid, there was a drought. And it was… scary. Really scary. I remember washing my hands—my mom was going on and on about how filthy they were because I’d been looking at bugs—and the water came out of the faucet, and I’d heard adults talking about the drought for a year, and here I was, wasting precious water on hands that didn’t seem all that dirty.” He winked, and Tenner laughed like he was supposed to. “And it hit me. We could run out of water. The world could run out of water. And I asked my dad, and he… he told me the truth. That it could happen—places could run out of water to drink. And… and I cried myself to sleep that night. And the night after that. My parents finally asked me what was wrong, and… I had a hard time putting it into words. It was like… like the sun going out. Like the stars extinguishing. The threat was that real to me. So….”
He drained his glass of wine, realizing that this was sort of a buzzkill. “Are the steaks done yet?”
“No, you’ve got five minutes. Finish.” Tenner leaned forward, eyes fastened hungrily on Ross’s face, and suddenly Ross felt naked, more naked than he’d been in front of another human being since his first time—Gabby Raines in the eleventh grade, and Paul Wright in college, if you were counting. But in the midst of all that nakedness, he felt safe.
Tenner wouldn’t laugh or judge. Tenner just wanted to know him better. It wasn’t a crime.
“Well, you know my sister, and you’ve probably guessed my parents are big barrels of awesome.”
“I met them,” Tenner acknowledged. “At Pat and Desi’s twentieth. You were out of town, but there was a big to-do. They’re….” He smiled wistfully. “It’s like if you could fill out a special-order form for parents, you guys got the best set. Too bad they’re limited edition, you know?”
Ross grinned, filing the quiet sadness away again, wondering when he and Ten would get to unpack that. “Yeah, well, we didn’t know that when we were kids, but I sure haven’t taken them for granted as an adult. Anyway, I wasn’t looking too hot, and my mom asked me what was wrong one morning on the way to school, and I unloaded. I was so scared. This was our world and we weren’t doing anything. So she kept me home, and we spent the day looking up things I could do. And you know, I was in, like, the sixth grade, and school had been easy, and I hadn’t really cared that much about it. But once I found out what sort of grades you had to have to become an environmentalist, to go out and do what I’m doing now—I’ll tell you what. My grades were top-notch. I got into UC Davis on a full ride. It’s like… like she gave me the power to do what I had to fix the world, you know?”
“That’s amazing.” Tenner breathed softly, and Ross felt all that wonder deep in his soul.
Had anybody ever looked at him like that? He wanted to taste that appreciation, and he leaned forward, brushing Tenner’s mouth with his own, just as the timer went off.
“Fuck,” Ross muttered, put out. He stood up and got the steak out, then left it to rest on the stovetop while he turned off the oven and started on the salad.
“Here,” Tenner said practically, “let me help.”
“No, no.” Ross shook the bag of salad into the bowl they’d used the week before. “I… I’ve never seen this sort of organization in my honor before. I wa
nt to give it the appreciation it deserves.”
Tenner sighed and sat down. “Does it bother you?” he asked. “That I tried to… I don’t know.”
“Make things special?” Ross turned and smiled at him. “Not at all. I’m not usually that guy in people’s lives, you know? That special guy? It… it means a lot to me. I want to do my part.”
He heard Tenner swallow from across the kitchen and went back to fixing dinner.
DINNER CONVERSATION flowed pretty freely after that, but they both seemed conscious of not having too much wine.
Just enough.
Just enough to bring out the flavor of the meat (and Tenner’s marinade was sort of wonderful as it was) and to give a late dinner in their pajamas a hint of occasion. When they were done and the leftovers stowed and the dishwasher set on cycle, Ross grabbed Tenner’s hand again, tugging him out of the kitchen.
“There’s gelato in the freezer,” Tenner said, and for a moment, Ross thought he was going to get away.
“Later,” he said throatily. God, that look in Tenner’s eyes—dark earth brown with a hint of sepia, with the wonder and the appreciation and oh my God, the dry sense of humor—made him yearn for sweetness you didn’t ordinarily find in the bottom of a gelato carton.
“We just ate,” Tenner said, allowing himself to be herded up the stairs. “I may have gas.”
“I don’t care,” Ross said. “I’ve done this before. I know the dangers.”
“But—”
Ross shoved him up the last step and caught up, pulling his shoulder so they were face-to-face.
“I got tested Monday,” he said, leaning his forehead against Tenner’s. “All clear. Have you changed your mind?” he asked seriously.
Tenner’s mouth, usually lean and tight-lipped, parted, and he wet it with a pink tongue. “All clear?” God, he probably still tasted like wine.
“No condoms, if you don’t want. You’ll feel me come inside you.” Tenner’s little gasp made him swell. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No,” Tenner whispered. “No, just—”
Ross had been a good boy. There had been dinner and conversation, carnations, daisies, and wine.
And this man, looking at him like he was important and fascinating, and baiting him and debating him and giving Ross a safe place to be himself in the midst of what nobody knew better than Ross was a big scary world.
Ross had earned this, earned Tenner’s little whimper of surrender, earned his no-bullshit kiss back, the way he cupped Ross’s cheeks and took over his mouth without hesitation.
Tenner whirled Ross around and backed him against the wall, taking over with such ease, Ross wondered what fantasies Tenner had been entertaining.
“Just what?” Ross asked, tilting his head back so Tenner could nip at his neck, his collarbone under his T-shirt, his jaw.
“Just nothing,” Tenner said. He shoved his hands under Ross’s shirt, and Ross sighed in appreciation. Slightly rough, callused with work and play, Tenner swept his palms up and down Ross’s chest, kneading, scraping lightly with his nails, pinching—“Ah! Oh, man!” His nipples were ultra-sensitive.
Ross stripped his shirt off right there in the hallway and gave Tenner full access, and Tenner, oh yes, went straight for his nipples again.
“Mmm… okay, do that as long as you want,” Ross purred, massaging Tenner’s scalp under his hair. Tenner spent a long time pleasuring one side, until Ross couldn’t stop himself from rocking his hips back and forth in need. With a sudden switch, Tenner was on the other nipple, and Ross felt helpless, exposed, while he gave Tenner permission to ravish him.
“Gah! Ten, you’re killing me here!”
“Your skin tastes magical,” Tenner muttered, and before Ross could laugh or widen his eyes and remark that was the weirdest thing anyone had said to him while making out, Tenner sank to his knees and stripped Ross’s sleep pants down to his ankles, and his boxer briefs with them.
“Here?” he asked, surprised.
“Oh my God.” Tenner was staring at Ross’s cock, fully erect and sticking straight out, with hunger in his eyes. His breath fanned the sensitive head, and Ross dropped his hand to stroke his own length, but Tenner stopped him.
“Please?” Tenner begged.
“Yeah, sure, why not.” Ross leaned against the wall, eyes closed, Tenner’s firm grip along his shaft a tender form of torture.
“I didn’t even get to see it,” Tenner told him, his tongue flicking out to tease the head between words.
“That’s a shame.” Oh God, his grip was so tight, so sure. Ross was going to expire, on the rug in the hallway, naked.
“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock?” Tenner’s voice rose, and his stroking kept up firmly.
“Two minutes longer than necessary!” Ross whined. “God, Tenner, you’re killing me!”
To his horror, that stroke on his shaft stopped, and he lowered his gaze to Tenner’s wickedly flashing brown eyes.
“What?” Ross asked while his heart thundered in his ears and time ceased to move.
“Beg me,” Tenner whispered, flicking his tongue out again.
Ross had to stop himself from coming. “Oh, you evil, evil little man.”
The lick across his head was a little longer this time, long enough to make Ross shudder and moan, but short enough to leave him practically in pain.
“Beg me,” Tenner said again, his other hand cupping Ross’s balls. Oh wow. Tenner might be the one to fuck Ross tonight. Anything was possible. This gorgeous sexual mastery was so much better than Ross had expected.
“You think so-o!” Tenner squeezed—not enough to hurt, just enough to make him…. Oh no. Not that easily. No, no, no, no….
“Beg me,” Tenner repeated, his voice throbbing with the knowledge that Ross was only stretching this out for his own pleasure.
“God, yes. Suck me. Suck my cock. Jesus, Tenner, suck my fucking cock!”
Hot and hard, Tenner gripped and stroked with a fast, strong rhythm. The world shrank to a pinpoint, to Tenner’s mouth on Ross’s cock, and there was no showing Tenner who was boss, and there was no making this night the be-all and end-all of Tenner’s sexual experience. There was only mouth and cock and—
“Fuck, Ten, I’m gonna—”
Tenner shoved his mouth all the way down to Ross’s root, his throat working urgently, and Ross saw stars and came.
Spurt after spurt, the heavens dancing before his eyes, and Tenner swallowed so happily, like this was the best thing anybody could have done for him. Ross stroked his hair, his cheek, thinking brokenly that he wanted to do so much more for Tenner Gibson.
As soon as he could see past the stars.
Tenner finally pulled away and rested his head against Ross’s thigh, his breath coming in pants. He gave a little shimmy as he crouched, a sound of need, and Ross felt steady enough to tighten his fingers in Tenner’s hair and tilt his head back.
“Think you’re something?” he panted.
Tenner gave a sultry smile and licked a trickle of come from the side of his mouth. “Show me different.”
Ross pulled him slowly up, taking his mouth when they were even, exulting in the taste of his own come, wanting Tenner’s in his mouth as well.
“I’m going to show you the world,” he promised in Tenner’s ear, and kiss by kiss, they slow-walked to the bedroom so Ross could make good on that promise.
By the time they got to the bed—a surprisingly solid four-poster masterpiece, decked in sage green—Tenner was naked, his remarkably wiry, muscular flesh hot and smooth against Ross’s.
There was a dusting of dark hair on his chest, and he had bronze nipples that Ross had to taste. Tenner’s hands flailed, finally finding purchase in Ross’s hair, and his tugging goaded Ross on even more.
He practically tackled Tenner, shoving him backward onto the bed and falling on top of him. Tenner laughed up into his eyes, apparently delighted. “You think you’re topping this time?” T
enner taunted.
In reply, Ross kept kissing him, plundering with his mouth and ravaging with his hands, until Tenner bucked mindlessly beneath him. Shoving his knees between Tenner’s thighs so he could anchor him on the bed, Ross pulled back and grinned at Tenner, who was very much sloppy and swollen and mussed.
“First I’m gonna rim ya. Then I’m gonna finger ya. Then I’m gonna fuck ya!”
Tenner’s mouth fell open in surprise, and Ross pushed at his thighs until Tenner’s knees bent over Ross’s shoulders.
God, his body was gorgeous. That silky dark hair dusting everything, the fair skin flushing brightly. Tenner’s backside was taut and muscular—not soft and welcoming at all—but then, where would the challenge be?
He spread Tenner’s cheeks and lowered his head, grinning up at those big brown eyes over the length of that compact body. “Don’t touch your cock,” he ordered and then lowered his head and licked up that preciously pink crease.
“Gah! Fuck you!”
“Not happening just now,” Ross told him and then licked again.
“Holy fuck!” Tenner’s hips practically came off the bed, and Ross gave him a playful smack on the ass.
“Stop that,” he said, using his best schoolteacher/Dom voice.
Tenner moaned slightly, his stomach muscles quivered, and his cock splatted on his stomach. Ross remembered Tenner’s eyes, challenging him, Beg me! and he got an idea.
“Stay right there,” he said with deliberate sternness. “And put your hands over your head. Boy.”
Tenner moaned again, his thighs falling apart lewdly, and he put his hands up where they were supposed to be.
“Nice. Sock drawer?”
“Top right,” Tenner said, nodding to a standard long and low chest of drawers against his wall. Ross left him on the bed, missing his heat, his smell, even as he started rooting through the drawers—yes. Dress socks. Stretchy. While he was there he saw… ooh, lubricant, which he grabbed since he’d left his own downstairs. And wow. Oh wow. Two items, a little on the conservative side, sizewise, but one of them was very lifelike, and the other one vibrated.
