by Alex Kidwell
Redford didn’t leave, though. Even when, three days in, Jed tried to stage a jailbreak and had to be restrained by a beefy nurse named Sheldon. Red had just sighed and trailed after his weak ass, fretting and carrying his robe. Every night, Red fell asleep next to him, holding his hand, and Jed tried to deny how much he relied on that. There were no more nightmares. Even the beginnings of them had him burrowing further into the strong warmth beside him, and they were chased away by Redford’s solid presence.
Eventually though, he managed to convince the fascist doctors that being weak and showing the beginning signs of infection were not enough to keep him around. At least, Jed liked to think it was his stellar negotiation skills. It was probably the fact that his insurance was as fake as his ID and all the antibiotics they were pumping into him. Admittedly, he felt better after the fifth day, well enough to walk on his own and piss without falling over. A red-letter day in Walker-ville. They declared him clear for discharge when his temperature stayed normal for a full twenty-four hours, and Jed was finally a free man.
“I want a burger,” he told Redford as they climbed into a cab, Jed holding onto his hand tightly. For balance, of course. “And fries. And a milkshake. I want a 50s diner stereotype, and I want it deep fried.”
“That does sound good,” Redford agreed with a slight smile, resting their intertwined fingers on his knee. For a moment Jed anticipated a juicy burger, the crisp, salty heaven of fries, wondering if he could talk Redford into an extra side of bacon. That is, until Redford added mildly, staring out the window as they drove, “You can have soup.”
Damn him.
The soup was green. Broccoli something or other, it had vegetables and no bacon to speak of. Unfortunately, Redford just fixed those dumb cow eyes on him, and Jed was left with no choice but to sigh and eat it up like a good little soldier. Knievel was passed out on his lap. The cat had all but attacked him the second he walked in the door, meowing pitifully and weaving around their ankles. The brief trips Redford had taken home, the ones precipitated by nurses kicking him out for a shower and sleep, apparently were not enough attention for Her Highness.
The apartment was stupidly clean. Apparently Redford had taken out his stress on the grime in the shower and the streaks on the windows. Speaking of….
“Nice repair job,” Jed smirked. The broken window pane had been covered in an old pizza box, taped down to keep the weather out. “I think we should keep it that way. A souvenir.”
Redford had blushed, stammering something about how he didn’t know who to call, and there had been too many glass repair men in the yellow pages, but he broke off to give Jed an incredulous look. “Why would you want—”
“Because you got out.” Jed stopped him with a finger pressed lightly to his lips, eyes intent on his. “Because you’re incredibly strong, baby.” A beat and he grinned, wickedly, letting his fingertip trail down to slide along the front of his throat. “Because it’s hot as hell thinking of you running around with a gun, being all badass. I think I like that mental picture.”
Red blushed again, but there was heat in his gaze as he moved a little closer. “Yeah?” he murmured, ducking his head to catch Jed’s fingertip between his teeth. Jed couldn’t help the quiet moan at the feel of the bite, shifting nearer still, winding up all but in Redford’s lap.
“Oh, yeah,” Jed assured him, voice dropping a few octaves.
“I wasn’t very badass,” Redford confessed. “I tried to hide one of your guns like you do, except it dropped down the back of my pants. And while I was running I—I ended up in the red light district, and some big man told me I looked like I needed to be spanked.” He smothered an embarrassed smile against Jed’s palm. “I think I’ll leave the action stuff up to you in the future.”
His head tipping back, Jed laughed, cheeks aching with how wide his grin was. How the hell had he managed to find someone like Redford? God, the innocence was amazing. There was something worldly, almost weather beaten, in his eyes, someone who’d suffered much, who’d seen darkness, all tangled up with a wide-eyed wonder about so much that Jed was jaded toward. The heavy weight Jed carried around, that he assumed everyone carted with them, seemed so much lighter when Redford was there.
“You just need practice,” he teased, trailing his lips along Red’s jaw, finding the dip where it swooped up to meet his neck. “We’ll have badass outings. Training camp.” Another laugh, this one deeper, and he nudged in under Redford’s ear to paint whorls along his skin with his tongue.
“You’re perfect.” The words were whispered, buried into scattered kisses against Redford’s neck. “Just perfect. I don’t ever want to lose you again.”
Inhaling sharply when Jed found a particularly sensitive spot—oh yeah, he’d have to remember that one—Redford tried to give him a glower. It didn’t really work, considering the most threatening Redford could look was still tempered with the wide-eyed innocence he carried around. “It hasn’t been four to six weeks yet. You’re not supposed to be, um, exerting yourself.” Despite his words though, he was quite happily leaning in to kiss Jed, careful not to jostle his shoulder.
“This ain’t exerting,” Jed mumbled, eyes sliding shut at the force of the kiss, his good hand going up to wind into that messy tangle of hair. “We’ll go all slow-like. Practically physical therapy.”
Yeah, he was babbling. It was hard to stay focused with Redford kissing him like that, with tongues tangling and lips pressed in a wet, heated embrace. Hands went wandering, shoving aside clothing to seek skin to caress, to paint trails where mouths could follow. Somehow, Redford leading, they found their way back to the bed. It was a dance, a graceful ballet of need, and Jed found himself sprawled out against the pillows, Redford braced above him.
“Let me,” Red whispered when Jed tried to move, shaking fingers working the buttons of Jed’s shirt. “I want to touch you.”
Surprised, Jed lay back, watching with huge eyes as Redford settled himself between his legs, slowly undressing him. Every movement was gentle, fingertips caressing his skin, lips exploring the dips and curves of muscle and bone. It wasn’t just fucking. There wasn’t the hard rush, the desperate need. Redford wasn’t in this for his own pleasure. For a little while, for that breathless heartbeat of eternity, Jed was worshiped. Adored.
Redford placed the lightest kiss to the bandage covering Jed’s shoulder, apologetic, before breaking away to remove his own shirt. He was determined to not have Jed move and be in any pain, so Jed figured he should just lay back and enjoy the show, only slightly arching his hips up to help Redford remove his pants. Finally, they were naked, but Redford didn’t move right to the places that Jed really wanted him to go. He returned back to that slow worship, kissing his way down Jed’s arms, his chest, hip bones and knees.
“I want—” Redford started, his cheek resting on Jed’s hip, and he had to be aware that Jed was two seconds away from begging Redford to touch him, right? He might actually die of blue balls. Though Redford was a lot more confident now, worlds away from the near-silent creature Jed had first met lurking in the rundown house, he was still tentative as he pressed his lips against the base of Jed’s cock. “I want to… you know. Um. Have you inside of me.”
By the time Redford summoned up the courage to vocalize what he wanted, Jed was half mad with want. He’d never gone slow and gentle before, and he found the anticipation was better than he could have imagined. Everything with Redford was so achingly real, so intense and sweet and soaked with want, Jed found it incredibly hard to focus on anything else. Blinking dazedly up at him, Jed huffed out a near-silent laugh, the noise getting caught in a rough groan. “Yeah?” he murmured, lips tipping upward in a slow smile. “Gotta admit now, sweetheart, I’ve… just, most of the guys I was with, you know, they didn’t bottom. Ever.”
Wow, he hadn’t really thought about it before. It took Jed a minute to mentally run down his list of sexual experiences—and he definitely was never giving Redford a solid number on those—but
the conclusion didn’t change. “You’d be my first,” he whispered, stunned. For everything he’d done, for all the men he’d gotten on his knees for, who would have thought he had anything left to give away. A sudden sweep of self-awareness made his cheeks flush, impossibly, and Jed fidgeted a little, scowling defensively. Jesus, he was acting like an idiot. It wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything. Just because he hadn’t technically topped didn’t mean he wasn’t exquisitely aware of how it went.
“You’d be my first too. So it fits,” Redford replied, smiling shyly at him. Only someone like Redford could still look shy when his lips were a breath away from Jed’s cock.
Moving up, Redford shifted to straddle Jed’s hips, leaning down to kiss him. There was more than a little hunger behind it, the quick bite to his lip making Jed groan. Just like the last time they’d been here, tangled up in each other, Redford once again reached out toward the drawer, snagging the lube and pressing it gently into Jed’s hand. “I want you,” Redford murmured against Jed’s lips, brushing kisses over his cheekbone and his jaw. “I want this.”
To be completely honest, Jed couldn’t even really remember his first time anymore. It’d been fast and dirty, in some storage room on a base somewhere. He knew it’d hurt, that he’d muffled his shouts into his forearm, that the pain, for him, had been half of the appeal. Jed wanted it better for Redford. He deserved something really good.
Slicking up one finger with the lube—cherry flavored, for their added pleasure—Jed arched his neck up to catch Redford’s lips in another slow kiss. His finger circled slowly around Redford’s hole, teasing around the heated pucker of skin. “Relax,” he urged him, other hand sliding down his chest to wrap around his cock, sliding his thumb along the slit. The finger nudged inside of him, just barely, and Jed drew back to watch Redford’s face. “Okay?” he whispered.
Even in the midst of this, Redford had the mind to tug Jed’s hand away from his cock, giving him a stern look. Oh, right, that was the arm with the injured shoulder. Funny how arousal could make him completely forget about the pain. Jed watched as surprise fluttered over Redford’s expression, turning into a wanting heat as he slid his finger a fraction deeper. “Definitely okay,” Redford breathed.
Redford braced his hands on Jed’s chest, his breathing picking up as Jed inched his finger inside, achingly slowly, until he was buried up to the knuckle. He paused, carefully watching Redford to make sure that he was okay—it became apparent that he needn’t have worried when Redford pushed down against his hand. There was still surprise in his face, surprise that it felt so good, when he’d probably never thought about something like this before he met Jed.
And God, he felt fantastic. Jed had to force himself to keep moving slowly, no matter how much Red was rocking back against him, how dark his eyes had gotten with lust. Gently, he thrust his finger in, twisting it as he pulled out, again and again while he watched in wonder. Redford was riding his hand, palms flat against Jed’s chest, lip caught between his teeth in muted ecstasy. He was so gorgeous, so free and sexy and pure.
Bending down, hair brushing over his eyes, Redford kissed Jed hard enough to press his head back into the pillow. Sharp pops of pain or no, Jed’s hand found his cock again, grunting in displeasure when Redford batted it away. “’M fine,” he insisted in a mumble, busy sucking on Redford’s lower lip. “All in the wrist, babe.”
He added a second finger, fucking into him more quickly, and used Redford’s startled gasp as cover to get his hand on that beautiful dick. If he crooked his fingers just so when Redford rolled his hips back, he could find that spot, rubbing lightly over his prostate. Forget the pain, forget the aches and the twinges; watching this was worth all of it. Hell, if he could stay here all day, he would, happily. Redford had apparently forgotten all about trying to make Jed rest his arm, too caught up in the surprised pleasure of having his prostate touched for the first time.
He did, however, have the presence of mind to breathlessly ask, “Why does that smell like cherry?”
“Because I’m popping yours?” Jed smirked. Oh, come on. There was no way in hell he was going to miss out on that opening. Or this one, really.
Nudging a third finger into the tight heat, he moaned in anticipation, eagerly mouthing his way down Redford’s chest. The other man was lithe and lean above him, body a long curve of anticipation, of tense need. Every movement seemed to send him higher, drawing whimpers and moans from those perfect lips. Jed watched. All he seemed capable of doing was watching, was keeping his eyes locked on Redford’s beautiful face.
“All right?” Jed asked, breath coming in quick, shallow pants. His lips trailed along the curve of Redford’s shoulder, and he kissed his pulse point, thrilling at the way it beat under his touch. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”
His answer came in the form of Redford giving him a look—one that said, quite clearly, if you don’t keep going, I’m going to go insane. Redford fumbled for the lube again, pushing it against Jed’s chest, taking the opportunity to lean down and kiss him again. “Okay,” he confirmed breathlessly, biting at Jed’s lip. “Definitely okay.” He rested his forehead against Jed’s, taking a few seconds to gather himself. “I want you.”
Having never been on this side of things, Redford was clearly a little confused as to how it went, but he still wrapped his hand around Jed’s cock, watching him with dark eyes. “Do I… you know. Now?”
A smile, the damn thing completely out of his control, spread slowly across Jed’s face. Struggling up on his elbows, he brushed his nose against Redford’s, and for that brief moment they simply were. Sharing the same air, lost in each other’s eyes, they existed simply in each other’s smiles, in the curve of lips or the soft way Redford kissed him. “Yeah,” Jed whispered. “Now.”
Slicking his hand with lube, he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, guiding Redford to slowly lean back. “Relax,” he urged again, leaning his forehead against Redford’s. “Just breathe. I’m right here, baby, okay?”
Nodding against Jed’s forehead, Redford shifted back, sitting upright, hands braced against Jed’s chest again. Though he frowned at the fact that he couldn’t kiss Jed so easily in that position, he gave a shaky, anticipatory breath, lifting up on his knees. After shooting Jed a quick look to confirm that he was doing it right, he bit his lip in concentration, slowly starting to sink down on Jed’s cock.
With a hiss, Jed’s head fell back, eyes falling closed at the sensations. Redford was so fucking tight, hot and perfect, and it was taking every ounce of his control to not roll his hips upward into that delicious friction. Biting his lip, Jed forced himself to hold back. He was pretty damn sure he could come just from Redford lowering himself onto his cock. He wanted this to be good for Red though, so Jed ran through baseball scores and the starting lineup for the woman’s basketball team, desperately holding onto his self-control. Even if Redford seemed completely determined to shatter said perilous grip without even trying.
Redford paused, panting, only the tip of Jed’s cock held inside of him. As much as Jed wanted to get with the fucking now, he made himself keep still, running his hand over a shaking thigh. He wanted to make this good for Redford, so he had to let the guy go at his own pace.
Going achingly slowly, Redford inched his way down, breathing out bitten-off moans until he was finally seated fully on Jed, head thrown back in overwhelmed pleasure. Jed had just gotten back to mentally reciting the Super Bowl winners for the past ten years when Redford started moving, tiny movements of his hips back and forth, staring at Jed like he’d just started to experience Heaven on earth. Which, fair enough—Jed wasn’t about to argue with him.
“God, Red.” The words came out shaky, voice cracking as he tried to hold back a low groan. “You feel so damn good.” His hands were restless, running over whatever skin he could reach, and he was moving to meet Redford. They thrust together, gently at first, small motions that rocked them back and forth and left Jed burying whimpers into Redfo
rd’s lips. Slow didn’t last long, though. Redford grew more confident, their kisses turned messy and hungry, and Redford began riding him like they both existed only for the pleasure.
They were thrusting in time, in step, a frantic dance that had them tangled together. Instincts had taken over; no longer was Redford hesitant, unsure. He was a god, bathed in pleasure, worshiped. Jed could only follow, only wanted to follow, to stare as he flew higher and higher. Redford’s hands were braced on Jed’s shoulders. Every thrust sent a shudder of pain down Jed’s spine, but he didn’t protest. Hell, he barely noticed, he was so caught up in the sensations.
This was a new thing, fragile and rare. For all Jed’s experience, this was heartbreakingly new. Redford wasn’t taking so much as Jed was giving, willingly. In return, it seemed as though Redford, despite the shockingly unfamiliar pleasure coursing through him, was focused only on Jed. He bowed his head to kiss him, rough and tender all at once, messy and greedy and so sweet Jed couldn’t breathe for it. Their muscles tightened, ached, strove forward with all the desperate yearning they could find. It wasn’t about the orgasm, the end game. They just wanted—Jed just wanted—to be as close as possible. To do away with all the space between and just exist in one another.
If he could have lasted forever, Jed would have traded the world to stay there, to stay safe and fulfilled, to stay buried inside of Redford, another half to make him whole. The pleasure was too much, though. The tight friction, the heat, the way Redford would clench and shudder and shake around him had Jed moaning, overwhelmed. He was babbling, he knew, random words and phrases, please and more and oh God, yes. Redford’s name and a symphony of pleas, of dirty encouragements, of endearments breathed along Redford’s skin.
Redford came with Jed’s name on his lips, every muscle in his body tensing as orgasm swept through him. For a moment, there was no worry or hesitation, just absolute pleasure. Everything else burned away in the face of what he was experiencing right then. Redford didn’t go still, though. With a heated look at Jed, he kept moving, fingernails digging into Jed’s chest.
