True Colors

by Clare London

  Zeke crouched down, bobbing low over Miles’ groin, his thighs straining gently as he stretched his legs wider apart. Beneath him, Miles gazed upward, his chest heaving with short, impatient breaths. Zeke ran his gaze over Miles’ long, tight torso, and the skin pulled taut over the bony hips. Delicious.

  He nodded to himself, smiling, and folded a hand lazily around his cock, still damp with Miles’ saliva. Slowly, he slicked his hand around in a figure eight, teasing himself to an even thicker swelling.

  Miles thrust his hips up to try to meet Zeke’s body above him. For a second, his balls met Zeke’s, hanging down between his legs; they brushed together heavily, and both men groaned.

  Miles gave a soft sob, half-laughing. “Zeke… do you get off on being such a bastard? I need….”

  “Leave it to me,” Zeke admonished. “I know what you need, don’t I? Just like you know what I need.”

  Miles peered up at him through eyes half-closed with lust. Zeke started sucking on his fingers, drawing a couple in and out of his mouth, making the most of the wet, soggy sound; in and out; rhythmically, greedily. He watched Miles’ eyes widen and his mouth open in a soundless O.

  Beautiful.

  Then he tugged the fingers out from his mouth and reached down to his groin. His other hand stayed at his chest, teasing at a nipple, tight and erect. He sighed with pleasure.

  “Zeke.” Miles’ groan was bliss.

  Zeke reached his wet hand under his heavy arousal and back behind his balls. They shifted slowly, tightening up in anticipation. His heartbeat was racing now, his whole body hot. He shifted his hips, dipping his shoulder a little to get a better reach, and then pressed his finger into himself. The skin resisted for a second, then opened up willingly. He whimpered softly, his finger reaching inside, sliding into the tight warmth. Good. So good. He fixed his gaze on Miles’ shocked face, panting more heavily, and he started to stretch himself.

  Miles moaned. Zeke focused his eyes back on him. It was difficult, because his vision was already clouded with growing delight. He slid a second finger in, beside the first. This time, the resistance was much less. “Still slick in there from last time, Miles. Felt damned good, you filling me… fucking me…. I’m ready for more.”

  “I… you know I am.” Miles sounded very hoarse. “I want to fill you again, Zeke. Feel you squeezing around me. Dammit. Come here now….”

  Zeke groaned, his hair falling forward over his forehead, his torso jerking with the movement of his fingers up inside his ass. He was so aroused it was painful, his skin was aching, his throbbing flesh was a fierce pressure in his groin. “Yeah. I want that too. I want you pumping up into me, spilling out into me… warm and thick inside of me….”

  Miles made a strange, guttural noise in his throat that didn’t sound human.

  “But not today, okay?” sighed Zeke. “Best be careful; use a condom. I don’t do it without protection, either way. That’s my way. The best way, I think. Right? Until….” He realized he didn’t know how he’d finish that sentence.

  What did he really mean? Until I know you better? Until we trust each other? Until we’re something more than this? He shook his head sharply. The sudden emotional disturbance scared him.

  “So back to the bedroom…?” Miles groaned. His eyes were half-closed, his skin flushed all over. “Not sure I can walk.”

  “No problem.” Zeke smirked, and shook his head. With his free hand, he reached back up onto the couch and snagged his shorts, lying half off the furniture. A quick scrabble in the pocket, and he found the condom and lube that he’d tucked in there earlier. Miles studied him as he tore the packet open with his teeth, and his fingers nimbly twisted off the cap of the tube, one-handed. Then he let them drop gently to Miles’ stomach for him to use.

  Miles was clumsy with them and Zeke wanted to laugh. Until he saw the determined need in Miles’ face and he decided not to. He makes me think twice. Zeke shivered, but he was sure it was just with pleasure. Miles rolled the condom on slowly, smothering lube anywhere he could reach, anywhere he could touch. All the time, Zeke watched him, still panting, preparing himself with his fingers.

  “Ready?”

  Miles’ eyes were wide, and he nodded. Zeke slipped his fingers out, and lifted himself up straight again, directly above Miles’ groin. His balls sagged briefly against the straining flesh of Miles’ cock, and his own cock twitched against his belly. Then he gripped at his thighs to steady himself and lowered himself down onto the slick, thick crown.

  MILES gasped aloud as he breached the still-tight hole, pushing on through the initial reluctance of the flesh. He sank deliciously and possessively, deep into Zeke’s ass. His buttocks clenched and the muscles of his legs strained. His back arched, lifting off the creased pants underneath him, his heels digging in against the cool, bare floor.

  Above him, Zeke grunted with satisfaction. He forced himself down further until he was seated on Miles’ groin, then he slid his way back up again. Miles felt the tug on his flesh, drawing up the excitement, connecting him with Zeke. He reached up and grasped Zeke’s hips.

  “Ouch,” murmured Zeke, but he didn’t pull away. “Bruises like that I don’t mind.”

  “Me neither,” Miles snapped.

  Zeke tensed, staring down at him. “Not so keen on the teasing tonight, eh?” He smiled mischievously. Miles knew that Zeke liked that impatience in him; that it turned him on. “How does it feel, Miles?” he murmured, shifting on Miles’ lap.

  Miles gripped harder. The ache in his balls was torture, but he wanted this to last so much longer. “Sit still. Can’t speak….”

  Zeke made a noise of disgust. “Crap. Of course you can. You ever suspect you were so good at dirty talk? You’ll make me come with that alone.” He began to wriggle his hips, stimulating the head of Miles’ cock, still securely lodged inside him.

  Miles groaned. “Give me a break.”

  Zeke laughed, a brief, happy sound. “Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you. Your voice… low… breaking.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “It’s fucking sexy to hear you.”

  Miles felt a cry escape him. He suspected it was the tattered, fleeing remnants of his inhibitions. “You know how it feels to me? It feels like I’m buried… smothered… suffocated… burning.” Above him, Zeke gasped, and Miles released his hands. He flung his arms out to the side, stretched out across the floor, his fingers scrabbling for a purchase he’d never find on the smooth wood. “I want to fuck you, Zeke. I want to feel myself so deep in you that your skin melts into me, and covers my bones.”

  “Shit.” Zeke sounded awed. He began to move in earnest, encouraged by Miles’ passion. He sank lower, his ass clenching at the base of Miles’ cock, then sliding itself back up, and down again for another assault. “Tell me, lover….”

  Miles reached up a hand and took hold of Zeke’s rearing cock. As Zeke moved up and down on top, his cock slid in and out of Miles’ loose fist, slick with pre-come, the crown swollen and red. “Yes, I’ll tell you, Zeke.” Miles thought his voice sounded more confident than he’d ever imagined it would be, with such a performance. Zeke demanded things of him no one else ever had. Zeke took him over. And his response? Miles knew with sharp, astonishing clarity, that he surrendered to it. More willingly, every time. “You think you know what I want. But maybe not all.”

  Zeke was very flushed. From the fever in his eyes and the way his ass clenched around Miles’ cock, Miles knew he was close to climax. “Tell me,” his lips said, though no sound came out.

  Miles thrust upward, moving them both in the same rhythm. “I want to come inside you. I want to swell until I can’t bear it anymore and then just let go while you ride me. I want to stretch your ass to fit me, and all the time I’ll be pumping you along with me, so that you’ll beg the same as I will and shout the same as I will, and then your body will shudder along with me, and your ass will tighten up around my cock when you come, with me—”

  “Miles,” gasped Zeke, his cock throbb
ing inside Miles’ fist, his hips slamming down hard on Miles’ body. “Damn, but you’re good! Make me come… do it.”

  Miles felt the ache so deep inside him that it seemed to come from below the floor. He’d climaxed already today—several times. He’d throbbed and ached and laughed and burst into Zeke, his limbs shaking, his skin damp with sweat. But this was something more, something different. It was sharper, sweeter, more poignant. More devastating.

  “Yes….” Zeke hissed. A brief moment of shock passed his face, as if he’d thought he was the one in control but had been ambushed.

  “With me?” Miles gritted his teeth, pumping Zeke’s cock, holding back the last spiraling seconds of his own ecstasy.

  Zeke’s eyes were wide and damp and he wasn’t focusing on Miles anymore, but he nodded, cried out. “With you.”

  Miles came, his body arching up sharply, lifting his shoulders off the floor. He grabbed hold of Zeke’s waist to try to hold himself on the planet and climaxed, crying and shouting, making sounds like genuine sobbing. He could hear Zeke’s laugh, and then his cry of surprise and pleasure as his head went down and he came all over Miles’ hand and belly. Miles felt the muscles of his lower body seize in delight and shock; he felt Zeke’s hair brush against his face; he felt the warm come trickling down between his fingers as Zeke shuddered above him. He thought he might let go of Zeke, and let himself fly off the planet after all. He thought he probably already had.

  His eyes felt heavy and he let them close with relief. All he could hear was the harsh rhythm of their breathing. When Zeke nudged him, whispering for them to get back on the couch, he groaned and let himself be tugged back up. He let sleep take him because he really had no strength left for defense. The only thing he was sure of was that he still held Zeke close.

  He didn’t know what woke him, some time later. His body was stiff and weary, and yawning, he realized he was still folded deep into the couch. He must have drowsed for a long while because the light outside had almost gone, and the candles were half the size they were when he’d arrived. Zeke’s slow, sleepy breath tickled his neck. They were both still naked and Zeke’s body lay heavily against him. Miles tightened an arm around the other man’s shoulders. His own breath was calm, and astonishingly content.

  He was that, all right. Or should be.

  His thoughts wandered more deeply. What’s happening here? To me? To us?

  It was always so fierce, so exciting. Zeke was astonishing, wild, and unpredictable. Zeke gave him everything and yet sometimes gave him nothing, all at the same time. It was inexplicable. It was stimulating. It was as infuriating as hell.

  Miles groaned to himself, but not just from his cramped, exhausted muscles.

  What the hell are we becoming?

  ZEKE yawned gently, feeling the comfortable pressure of Miles’ body against him.

  What time was it? He shook one of his feet, which had gone to sleep. Miles’ skin was deliciously sticky against his, and there was another type of stickiness between his legs: a combination of excess lube and a few rambling trickles of his own unruly come. He sighed. Dammit. Should have gone to shower straight away, rather than napping. But what did he expect after an afternoon of hot play, and a necking session in the evening that turned into some pretty athletic fucking? The springs of this faithful old couch had already been strained almost beyond redemption, and now the floor had seen plenty of action too.

  “Feeling okay, Miles?” he asked, drowsily.

  “I don’t know how I feel,” came Miles’ unexpected reply.

  Zeke stirred clumsily, and groaned at the pressure of a cushion seam in the small of his back. “You want a drink? Want to take this to bed instead of cramped up here?”

  But Miles didn’t seem to be having the same conversation. “I don’t know how I feel when I’m with you.”

  “Um… is that good or bad?” asked Zeke, his brow furrowing. His face was half-buried against Miles’ neck and he couldn’t see the other man’s face very clearly. He scratched at his belly, absentmindedly.

  Miles’ voice was gentle but with an odd tone to it. “I feel damned excited and desperately horny. Because of you. Then I sometimes feel confused, and disorientated, and almost irrational. And that’s because of you too. I’ve never felt that way before, Zeke.”

  Zeke laughed. He didn’t know why he felt suddenly nervous. “You’re scaring me, Miles. I thought we were having a damned good time, and that’s better than arguing, right?”

  But Miles was silent. He didn’t seem to get the joke.

  Zeke wasn’t sure he did, either. He also didn’t want to admit that Miles’ words were an ominous echo of his own feelings.

  “What are we doing here, Zeke? I mean, I know what we’ve just done….”

  “Sure.” Zeke moaned slightly, and stretched out with remembered pleasure like a lazy cat. His soft, limp cock bobbed damply and gently against his thigh. He was looking forward to his shower, especially if Miles would join him....

  “But what are you doing here, Zeke?” Miles persisted. “What am I to you?”

  “Miles.” Zeke felt a shiver of worry run down his back. “Look. I don’t do that introspection thing. You know me.”

  “What do you feel? That’s what you always ask me. Tell me… in return.” Miles’ lips ghosted against Zeke’s, as if he wanted to taste the reply. Zeke wanted to reach out his tongue and lick at the warm skin in the corners of Miles’ mouth. No more sex for a while, sure. But there could be other things, couldn’t there? Things he hadn’t always enjoyed before. Kissing; holding. Being together.

  But Miles wanted something else from him at the moment. Something he couldn’t give. Or wouldn’t give?

  “It’s pleasure, Miles,” he murmured, slowly. He twisted his head around. Miles’ lips were just millimeters away from a kiss. “It’s just fucking, isn’t it? But it’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  There was a short silence between them.

  “It’s just pleasure,” echoed Miles.

  Zeke felt his heart sink. He’d said the wrong thing; he’d fucked up again. Hadn’t he? But this was the first time in his life that the fear of it cut so deeply that regret stabbed through him. He knew he ought to find some way back, to redeem the situation. But he also realized he didn’t feel up to the task. “I don’t know what to say, Miles. What do you want me to say? I want you, and I’m excited by you, and I meant it: this is the best I ever had. But I don’t know any more than that.” He flushed, embarrassed by confession. “Let me tell you, I’ve never been with anyone more than a few weeks. Not sexually.” Not any way, really. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Never really wanted to.”

  “Sure,” came Miles’ deceptively calm voice. Zeke had heard that tone before, when Miles had been talking to his staff. When there were performance issues he needed to address; delays to a deadline; things happening that didn’t meet his strategic plan. Stuff like that. Zeke knew it was the calm before the storm. “But you want to now?”

  “Yeah,” said Zeke, hotly. He struggled on the couch, trying to get back up to sitting. “Sure I want to now. You know I do. This is the best thrill of all, in among everything else going on; all the other shit going on in life.” There was another short silence. Zeke thought he might be holding his breath. He waited for Miles to blow up at him.

  But he didn’t. “It’s just a diversion, then,” he whispered. “Like you say.”

  Zeke didn’t know what else to say. Miles spoke like he understood, but Zeke could feel the tension running through him. He rested his head on Miles’ shoulder and his tongue went searching for a mate. Miles opened his mouth to accept it, though a little reluctantly at first. His limbs shivered with instinctive delight under Zeke’s touch, and Zeke felt his cock stir against his thigh—a little weary, but optimistic at the thought of more intimacy later on. He wanted Miles to ignore his thoughts for a little longer. It was so much better to relax into pure sensation. Right?

  “A fucking marve
lous diversion, at that,” he moaned, rolling over slightly and lifting his leg over Miles’ hip. The crisis had passed, hadn’t it? He’d suck on Miles’ tongue, and Miles’ cock, and they’d be the same together as before—wouldn’t they?

  You sure about that?

  Zeke whimpered as they kissed, but it wasn’t all from sensual pleasure.

  For God’s sake, he needed to grow up….

  CARTER entered Marty’s bar with some trepidation. He hadn’t met Zeke here for months; in fact, not since he’d last half-carried him home. Mind you, it had been Zeke who’d called him this time, not Marty. And it was a long time before closing.

  The bar was quietly busy with business people and young couples, and Carter nodded to a smiling Marty as he made his way through to the booths. That was where Zeke liked to sit; where Zeke liked to watch the world go by. Carter looked around for a moment, trying to find his friend, and then saw Zeke waving him over. Carter walked to the booth and slid in beside Zeke. There was a glass in front of the other man, half-full of something. Carter glanced at it.

  “It’s soda, Carter. Don’t make a fuss. Let me keep up the image, okay?”

  Carter smiled. Zeke looked wonderful, he thought; his eyes were bright, his skin flushed with health. He hugged Carter briefly to him. His welcome was always like this now. Carter could scarcely remember the ragged scrap that he’d been after Jacky’s death. Zeke’s life appeared to be recovering.

  “Not champagne for you? I thought you’d still be sailing on the success of the opening. I heard you on the radio that time—read about you last month in Art and Artists.”

  “One-hit wonder,” dismissed Zeke, though he blushed with pleasure.

  “No, no.” Carter shook his head. “This next show will be as good, I know it. I know you. You have the tenacity that’s needed. The commitment.”

  “Just haven’t shown it for a while,” murmured Zeke.

  Carter laughed softly, and waved at Marty for a beer. It was good to be out socially with Zeke again, like two friends should be. “So are you ready for the show? It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”