Wheels Up

by Annabeth Albert

  The classic pop song was slow enough for partner dancing but fast enough that Dustin could get away with a loose hold on Allie rather than a tight clinch. Not that that was stopping Ben and Maddox from swaying together, no air between them, not too far from him and Allie. God, I want what they have. And what Dylan and Apollo had too—they were holding court over at the head table, the girls dancing around them in circles, arms around each other, happiness bright as a solar flare and just as impossible to replicate.

  “You’re a good dancer.” Allie beamed at him with praise he didn’t deserve.

  “Not as good as you.” Dustin forced out both the line and a smile.

  “So...” She licked her lower lip. “I came with a group of friends. But...would you want to give me a ride home?”

  Oh fuck. This was worse than Isaiah’s unspoken invitation earlier. Worse because everyone would expect—want—him to say yes here. His dad would cheer him on, and Dylan had made no secret of wanting to hook him up with Allie for the past year. And she was nice, cute, and sweet, all the things Dustin was supposed to want but didn’t. A decade ago, Dustin wouldn’t have hesitated to take her up on the offer, would have gone home with her on almost autopilot, but now a wedding hookup was the last thing on his mind.

  “I can give you a ride,” Dustin said slowly, hating the way her face brightened. “But I can’t come up. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She shrugged even though her eyes were big with disappointment she didn’t try to disguise. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  “I’m flattered,” Dustin said truthfully.

  “You shouldn’t be alone all the time.” Her smile was wistful, but her earnest tone reminded him of Wes last week. You needed a friend. Shouldn’t be alone.

  “Eh. I’m used to it.” He spun her just to see her grin widen. Inside though, her words hit a tender spot just below his sternum. He didn’t want to be alone. Maybe you don’t have to be. The thought teased at the edge of his brain while he led Allie around the dance floor.

  As the song ended, he delivered Allie back to the table full of her friends, her lightly saying she’d ride back with them, him trying not to audibly sigh with relief. Escaping to the hall, mind still churning like a boat wake, he fished out his phone. And instead of immediately messaging Wes about the wedding hell he was in, he opened his search engine.

  This plan, like so many of his, was totally on the fly and probably a terrible idea, but he was just in the mood for saying “fuck it” to his whole damn life. A few swipes around his phone, and he was all set.

  We should meet, he typed at Wes, whose chat icon was illuminated. Deliberately echoing their DC hookup was sure to get Wes’s attention.

  Exactly how drunk are you on wedding champagne? Wes’s reply was near instantaneous and he’d added a rolling around emoticon.

  Not nearly drunk enough. I’m downtown, near a zillion hotels. What do you say we get lost in one of them together for a few hours? Not the wedding hotel, obviously, as it’s still swimming in SEALs, but there’s a place I found... He added a link. Distract me from all the humanity I’ve had to deal with.

  Wes’s response dodged Dustin’s invitation. Just back from a beer with Curly and Bacon’s crew. I feel you. People are exhausting. But your idea makes me wish I’d pounded back some shots.

  Because you know you want to say yes. Dustin frowned down at his phone like the sheer force of wanting could make Wes agree. I did my research—it’s a fast walk over for me from here, but it’s tucked away. Minimal risk.

  Maybe. There was a world of hope inside that reply, and some of the tension left Dustin’s back. He leaned against a convenient pillar.

  Come on. Three quarters of the people here are getting epically laid tonight. Swear weddings make everyone crazy.

  In reply, Wes sent him an emoticon bear with steam pouring out its ears. Poor baby. Bet you’ve been hit on a ton. So tough being hot as fuck.

  Dustin’s skin heated with the compliment. Can’t wait to get out of this tux.

  Tux? Wes added a salivating dog emoji. I might pay to see you strip out of that.

  See. I know you want this. I want this. We need tonight. He couldn’t think beyond tonight, beyond one more encounter. He was raw after the weekend of wedding obligations, so unmoored and needy in a way that he hated. But Wes could make it all okay. Wes would know how to put him back together. We deserve this.

  Wes took forever to answer. Not sure we should risk it, but hell, I’m grabbing shoes.

  Fuck yeah. Give me about an hour to meet you there. Maybe less. He fist pumped to the empty hallway.

  Ok. An hour. Leave the tux on for me.

  A little thrill raced up Dustin’s spine. This was stupid and risky and exactly what he needed tonight.

  * * *

  This was a terrible idea, and Wes should have been firmer with Dustin, told him that he couldn’t meet him. Should have spoken up and said he was worried about getting caught. Should have encouraged Dustin to go home with one of the people hitting on him because there was no future in this thing with Wes, and if anyone deserved to be happy and not lonely, it was Dustin. But Wes was a selfish bastard, and he wanted to be the one relieving Dustin’s bad mood, wanted to rub the stress out of his shoulders, let him vent about the family stuff. Ogle him in his tux.

  That last one made him speed up as he made his way to the downtown San Diego hotel Dustin had made a reservation at. He’d texted Wes a room number, and he opened the door before Wes even had a chance to knock.

  “Fuck. What a day.” Dustin closed the door behind Wes, then pulled him into a tight embrace. The room was softly lit, casting shadows over the furnishings of the nondescript hotel room. It looked to be a step above Wes’s DC place—thick fluffy white bedding, single king-size bed with a padded headboard and plush carpet.

  “You smell good. And look at you, all Thor at the Oscars. Dressing up suits you.” Wes wasn’t usually prone to flattery, but Dustin did look hot as hell in the tux—broad shoulders and bulging muscles under a well-fitting black coat and pants. And he smelled spicy, like he’d put on a new aftershave, one that had Wes’s mouth watering. He reached for Dustin’s bow tie, undoing it with a flick of his fingers.

  “I stopped on the way over.” Pink stained Dustin’s cheeks.

  “Oh?” Wes glanced at the mini-fridge area, wondering if Dustin had been lying about not being drunk.

  “I...uh...didn’t know what you’d bring... You know.” Dustin was nearly crimson by this point, not meeting Wes’s eyes.

  “You bought rope?” Wes was totally having fun with this. He had a feeling now what the purchase actually was and his stomach trembled, like flat-out shook, whether in fear or anticipation or both he couldn’t say. Maybe he was the one who needed a drink.

  “Not that.” Dustin pulled at his ear. His head jerked in the direction of the bed. “Stuff.”

  “Maybe you should show me.” Seeing the bigger man all rattled like this did a good job calming his own nerves, and he tugged Dustin down the short hall connecting the entryway and bathroom with the main room.

  As he’d expected, on the bed was a brown paper bag on its side, the top of a lube bottle peeking out. Even so, he raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Dustin’s face wasn’t any less pink, even in the lower lighting in the bedroom. “You keep threatening, but not delivering...”

  “Oh we can’t have that.” Wes reached for him, pushing his suit coat off, trying to calm his own galloping pulse. “And can’t have you all dressed up for it either. Strip.”

  “You want a show?” Dustin released a nervous chuckle.

  “Yup.” Nothing like a bit of control to settle Wes down. He went to sit on the edge of the bed, right next to the bag. “Slowly now.”

  “Shouldn’t there be like...music or someth
ing?” Dustin’s smile was a little on the shaky side as he started on his shirt buttons. “Feels weird, you watching me. In person, I mean.”

  “Yeah, but I like watching you,” Wes countered. “So much. Love knowing you’re about to be all naked and mine.”

  “Well, when you put it that way...” Dustin’s fingers sped up their unbuttoning. Wes liked the reveal of more and more of Dustin’s golden skin and chest hair too much to slow him down.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered after Dustin’s shirt fluttered to the floor. “Your chest first.”

  “You have a thing for my chest,” Dustin accused him, even as his hand roamed across his pecs.

  “Guilty.” Wes smiled at him. “And you have a thing for torturing your nipples, so it’s all good. Tweak one for me.”

  Dustin hissed in a breath as he pinched himself. “I need...”

  “Yeah, we’ll get you there. Pants now. But no touching your cock.”

  “Might be hard,” Dustin muttered.

  “I hope it is.” Wes waggled his eyebrows at him.

  “Goof.” Dustin shook his head. Lowering his zipper, he gave a little shimmy, shaking his ass at Wes. “Suppose this is what you want?”

  “Oh yes.” Wes bit back a laugh. “Now your briefs,” he said once Dustin had kicked free of his pants.

  “You are getting naked too, right?” Dustin considered him through narrowed eyes.

  “All in good time.” Wes waved the complaint away. “Can’t exactly fuck you through my pants, now, can I?”

  And there was that word—fuck, and all of a sudden, even with the humor and easy banter, Wes’s nerves were back, full force. Dustin pushed his underwear down and off, revealing his thick cock which strained toward Wes in an almost adorable fashion, making him want to go to his knees and bathe it in attention. But that might ruin his illusion of control, so he restrained himself.

  “On the bed. On your back.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dustin gave him a mock salute before stretching out next to where Wes sat.

  “Now, tell me...” Wes trailed his fingers down Dustin’s fuzzy chest. “When all the fancy people were giving their speeches and socializing tonight, you were thinking about this, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Dustin’s voice was little more than air.

  “Thinking about being right here, me about to fuck you?”

  “Fuck. Yes.” Eyes glassy, Dustin bit his upper lip.

  “Tell me about it. Tell me your fantasy.” Wes wanted to get this right for Dustin in the worst way, wanted to be everything he wanted. Needed.

  “You. Here.” Dustin’s pink tongue snaked out to worry the edge of his lip where he’d bit it moments earlier. “Sometimes I think about being tied up, but today...”

  “Go on.” Wes danced his fingers around Dustin’s belly button. “What did you want today? When you were all bored—bet no one there had any clue about your filthy, filthy mind.”

  Dustin shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “Only you.”

  “That’s right.” Wes rewarded him with a fast lick across one nipple, loving how even that brief contact made Dustin gasp.

  “Hard. Hard enough to make my teeth shake. On all fours. You making me beg for it.” Dustin’s voice was soft and thin as tissue paper.

  “Oh that I can deliver.” Wes grinned down at him. “You want to beg?”

  Their eyes met as Dustin nodded and the amount of trust there was staggering. Made Wes almost literally recoil. He had to take a quick breath in through his nose to steady himself.

  “What’s wrong?” Dustin’s forehead creased. Fuck. He was far too damn observant.

  “Sure you wouldn’t rather I rim you senseless again?” Wes hedged, trying to sound diabolical, not nervous. “I’m just thinking—”

  “Do you not want to fuck me?” Dustin propped himself up on his arms. “Fucking hell, Lowe. I’m telling you I want to beg for it and you’re backpedaling. You do this to all the guys you fuck? This part of making me ask for it? Threatening not to do it?”

  It would be easy to nod, make it part of their game, but Dustin was trusting him with so fucking much, maybe Wes could trust him with the truth. “No other guys,” he admitted.

  “What?” Dustin’s eyes did a weird twitchy thing. “No, you don’t mind-fuck everyone like this or no other guys period?”

  “The last one.” Wes drew a deep breath. “I’ve fucked, but never topped.”

  “Seriously? Why?” Releasing a harsh laugh, Dustin blinked hard.

  “I love how you assume I’ve had abundant opportunities.” Wes joined him in laughing because it was easier than getting indignant. “Told you that my high school boyfriend wouldn’t go there. Then came the military, and between that and family stuff and liking to keep to myself, there hasn’t exactly been a line out the door or a lot of chances. Even when I went into DC to the bars, it was usually just oral or something like that.” He didn’t add that most guys assumed Wes would bottom or at least be flexible in that regard. Which he could be, but he fucking loved how Dustin had always, right from the start, envisioned Wes doing the fucking, had been more than willing to take orders and direction from him. Even now, Dustin seemed incredulous that Wes hadn’t had a chance to do this before.

  “But you’re so good at it.” Dustin sounded genuinely puzzled. “I mean last time with your fingers and mouth... You were good.”

  “Thanks.” Wes’s nose and ears heated. “But it’s totally okay if you’d rather your first be with someone more experienced—”

  “Are you kidding?” Dustin tugged him until their faces were level. “I want it to be with you. All the fantasies you love to make me spew? They’re all you. So you better not back out now.”

  “I’m not,” Wes mumbled. You. God, the way Dustin said that—like Wes was everything. Like this meant something more than just two lonely bodies connecting. He wasn’t sure he could live up to those sorts of expectations, but hell if he didn’t want to try. “Just want it to be good for you.”

  “Like every other experience with you has disappointed?” Dustin scoffed. “Maybe we should tie you up instead—”

  “Hey now.” Wes used his training to roll Dustin onto his back, straddling him and pinning him to the mattress in a smooth move. “No one ties me up.”

  “And there’s my bossy bastard.” Dustin laughed up at him, goading him on. “Knew you’d be back. Now fuck me. We don’t have all night.”

  That reminder hit Wes like a kick to the nuts—their time together was limited and too precious to waste with stupid insecurities.

  “Are you in charge?” He peered down at Dustin. “Because I don’t think that’s what you called me up for, is it?”

  “Nope.” Dustin’s grin was wide enough to park an M113 in. “Want out of my head. Want to not think about my family for a while. Or anything really. And nothing makes me not think better than you.”

  “That’s me. The drug for stupid making.” Wes returned his smile right before he kissed him, a slow slide of lips against each other, drinking Dustin in little sips, trying to return to the illusion of having all the time in the world. That and kissing Dustin was simply too good to rush. Dustin kissed him back like Wes was more delicious than wedding cake and that was headier than any champagne. Dustin tasted sweet, like he had indeed had some cake, and as always, his little gasps when Wes brought out his tongue went straight to Wes’s dick.

  Very deliberately, he fucked his way into Dustin’s mouth—little parlays and flicks until Dustin got the idea, drawing hard on Wes’s tongue until he was fucking his mouth exactly like he intended to do Dustin’s ass. Slow. With more finesse than he’d thought he was capable of. Making Dustin clutch and writhe like this.

  “Wes.” Dustin bucked his hips up into Wes’s aching dick. Grinding together, Dustin naked and him cl
othed drove Wes crazy in the best way possible—such a power trip and head rush right along with the friction and kisses. “Please. More.”

  Wes could deny him nothing, and he kissed his way down Dustin’s neck, careful not to leave marks. Knowing what Dustin liked, he licked and nipped at Dustin’s nipples, making him clutch at Wes’s head. “More. God. You made me crazy.”

  “Yeah?” Wes coasted his mouth lower still, licking the trail of hair on Dustin’s stomach. “If I blow you, are you going to shoot or can you be good for me?”

  “I can be good.” Dustin’s breath came in frantic pants that belied his words.

  “Hah.” Using only the tip of his tongue, Wes swiped at Dustin’s dick, tracing the crown, teasing the slit.

  “Oh fuck. I love your tongue.” Dustin thrashed under him.

  “Be still,” Wes commanded right before he took him deep without warning. He sucked hard, working Dustin’s cock with his mouth and tongue, wanting Dustin every bit as crazed as he felt. His skin sizzled, tight and hot—like he’d spent the day in the desert battling wind and sun. He’d fucked around plenty, but he’d never felt like this, like everything was riding on this one encounter, never cared this much what the other person was thinking and feeling.

  “Mmm. Fuck. Fuck. Too close.” Dustin shoved at Wes’s head as he continued to milk Dustin’s dick with his mouth.

  “Don’t make me tie you up.” Wes kept his voice ominous even as inside he thrilled to have Dustin so on edge.

  “Your punishments sound a lot like presents.” Dustin let out a bark of a laugh. Rolling slightly, he tugged at Wes’s shirt. “Come on. Want to feel you too.”

  Like with the shower, Wes couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was that made him uneasy about removing his clothes around Dustin. Maybe it was simply that he liked the power differential when Dustin was the naked one. But even so, he let Dustin push his shirt up and off.

  “You never let me touch.” Dustin’s hand swept down Wes’s torso, a light, almost reverential exploration.

  “Good reason.” There was only so much of that Wes could take before the back of his neck went prickly. He pushed Dustin back down and reached for the paper bag. “Touching you is so much more fun.”