Wild Raspberries (14 page)
Authors: Jane Davitt
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Lgbt, #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Contemporary, #Gay, #Romance, #Romantic Erotica, #Literature & Fiction, #MM
Dan clicked the page closed and drummed his fingers on the desk. Fuck it. He was going to bed. It was still early, but so what? He didn’t allow the thought that the bed smelled comfortingly of Tyler to do more than flicker across his mind.
He started to shut the computer down and then frowned as a low sound rang out. Incoming mail. What the hell? Tyler’s e-mail was a separate program from his browser and it was password protected. He’d given Dan the password to be able to surf, but not to the e-mail, and he’d always made a point of closing the e-mail down before he’d let Dan anywhere near the computer. For Tyler to have left it up and running was a sign that he’d been distracted.
Click
. Okay, he hadn’t meant to do that. The e-mail screen came up, the inbox stark and empty apart from the new message. Dan swallowed and took his hand off the mouse before he did anything he would regret. The message was weird — no subject, and the sender’s name was a string of numbers. Something about them caught his eye. Embedded in the middle was the date of his birthday: 0709. He’d seen another number recently that had held those four digits within it; one of those meaningless coincidences that was barely worth mentioning.
Except he’d kind of liked seeing the date there on Tyler’s dog tags, which had been tangled up with the lube in the night table drawer. When Dan had pointed the numbers out to Tyler, Tyler had smiled as if he liked it, too, holding the tags for a moment before tossing them back into the drawer and then dragging Dan close.
He stood, went over to the drawer, and took out the tags. The metal was cool in his hand and they were lighter than he would’ve expected them to be, given how much symbolic weight was attached to them. It took only a moment to confirm that the number on them — Tyler’s social security number — matched the one in the e-mail.
He put the tags back and chewed the inside of his cheek. Weird. Some sort of veterans’ club maybe? Nothing he could do about it, and he wasn’t planning on even mentioning it in case Tyler thought he’d snooped, but it left him feeling unsettled. He turned the computer off, torn between curiosity and the same respect for Tyler’s privacy that had stopped him from going anywhere near the boxes stacked in Tyler’s closet. He’d given his word that he wouldn’t poke around. For all he knew, Tyler had ways of knowing if he had, but that wasn’t the reason he’d kept his curiosity banked down.
Even if Tyler hadn’t returned the favor. A casual comment a few days ago about how loaded Tyler’s computer was had made Tyler grin. “Boy, it’s ancient. Two years old. More.”
“It’s got more bells and whistles than any I’ve seen.” Dan patted the monitor admiringly. “What did you need it for anyway?”
Tyler shrugged. “Work.”
“Huh? How come?” Dan poked him in the arm when Mr. Monosyllable didn’t reply. “Tell me. I know all the bad stuff already and I’m still here, right? I don’t want it to be something I’m scared to mention, or there was no point in you telling me.”
The look he got was half bemused, half fond. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Okay, then. When I got an assignment, the first thing I did was research them. I could get everything from their shoe size to their tax returns to the name of their lover’s pet poodle.”
“You were a hacker? Wow.”
“Not so much, although… well, yeah, but it was more that I had access to just about everything. Not now, of course; my security clearance got pulled.” Tyler cleared his throat. “I can still find out a lot about most people if I need to, though.”
There was something about the way he said it that made Dan tense up and eye him warily. “Yeah? Like who — oh, shit, me. You did me, didn’t you?”
Tyler gave Dan a small nod, his expression guarded as if he was waiting for the explosion. “That first day, when you were passed out on the couch.”
“You —” Dan fell silent, sheer indignation choking him. Words like “invasion of privacy” or a more direct “you’ve got a fucking nerve” wanted to get out, but as he stared at Tyler and saw the tired expectancy in his eyes, he swallowed them back. Hard to blame Tyler for being cautious, given the way he lived. Tyler had to know that a gun in every room — Dan had found at least one in all of them; it didn’t mean there weren’t more — and a bumpy, overgrown driveway weren’t going to do much if an enemy came calling, but if they made him feel more secure…
A thought occurred to him and he sat upright, a smile spreading. “Fuck, did you think I was, like, an assassin or something? A spy? How cool is that?”
Tyler gaped at him and then started to laugh, a chuckle becoming a full-out belly laugh. Dan had punched him — hard — in the end, just to shut him up. It wasn’t
that
funny.
“Bedtime,” Dan said aloud, his voice echoing in the quietness. He got ready for bed, intending to go to sleep. In the end, though, he curled up on the couch, not the bed, a lamp burning and his book in his hand. He’d wait up for Tyler. And if Anne came inside for a drink or something, well, he’d just make himself scarce and go to bed.
Except Anne might not know about him and Tyler and that would look funny. Oh, the hell with it. He turned the page without reading it and kept on doing that until the print blurred.
“So, is he?”
Tyler took a final bite of Brie-smothered cracker and raised his eyebrows as he chewed. “Is who what?”
“Is Dan gay?” Anne’s fork captured a chocolate-dipped strawberry that was the only vaguely healthy part of her sinfully rich dessert.
Tyler smiled. “That’s not what you want to know.”
“It isn’t?”
He shook his head and sat back in his chair, pleasantly full and mellowed by the three glasses of wine he’d had with dinner. Around them, people in similar states of gastronomic bliss were talking, laughing, and generally enjoying themselves. Tyler hoped that the size of the bill wouldn’t give them indigestion. He and Anne always split the bill evenly, without discussion or quibbling, something he found refreshing.
“You want to know if we’re fucking,” he said, relying on the buzz of conversation around them and the well-spaced tables to cover his choice of words.
She choked on a sip of water. “Tyler, I did not! I just…” She paused and then grinned. “Okay, yes, I did.”
“I’ll give you an honest answer,” he said blandly. “None of your business.”
It was the second time he’d said that today, but Anne took it better than Dan had. “It isn’t, of course,” she admitted. “I’m not just being nosy, though. He’s still with you when you don’t need his help —”
“I never needed it,” he interrupted. “A sprained ankle? Please! I let him use that as an excuse because charity was the last thing he wanted, but I think we all know I could have managed perfectly well without him.”
“But you like having him around?”
He pushed his plate away, knowing that it would bring an attentive waiter over, which would provide a diversion. “Sure. He’s a nice kid. Mouthy from time to time, but he’s not a brat.” He reconsidered that. “Not all the time, anyway.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her lips curved up in a knowing smile. “Thanks for answering.”
“I didn’t.”
“You can’t see your face when you talk about him.” Their waiter arrived to clear the table, and Tyler was left with no option but to give her a narrow-eyed stare that made her smile turn into a grin.
***
He always left a light on in the cabin on the rare occasions that he went out at night, but there was something comforting about the knowledge that the light wasn’t illuminating empty rooms. Dan was in there, bad mood and all, though Tyler hoped Dan was over that. He was. In fact, faced with the prospect of apologizing just to get Dan to smile at him, he was more than willing. He wasn’t even sure what they’d been fighting about, but it didn’t seem important. Three glasses of wine, and he was getting sentimental… and horny.
He waved to Anne, who raised her hand in farewell, and waited until her taillights had disappeared before opening the front door. He slipped through it quietly, in case Dan had gone to bed, and closed and locked it.
Dan was lying on the couch, fast asleep, a book on the floor beside him. He didn’t look as if he’d planned to sleep there, as he hadn’t gotten out pillows or a sleeping bag; more likely he’d just dozed off. He wasn’t snoring, but he was breathing audibly, with his mouth open. He was wearing the rabbit shorts again, but because that was all he was wearing, Tyler had plenty to distract himself from the lurid, bouncing bunnies.
In less than two weeks, Dan had gone from being not his type to just what he wanted, because he wanted more than the body. Tyler allowed himself the luxury of staring from far enough away to see the big picture without needing to school his face to indifference. God, he was hard just from this, his cock filling and demanding space to grow. Just from looking at a skinny kid, all arms and legs and potential. Anne was right; Dan did look better. Maybe not so skinny now, and the work he’d been doing around the place had developed wiry muscles into something more defined. The wide shoulders and narrow hips looked sleek not scrawny.
He’d skipped dessert; he’d never had much of a sweet tooth, but Dan was making his mouth water just wanting a taste. He didn’t care if Dan was still sulking; hell, he almost hoped he was. He wanted to do things to coax Dan happy, wanted to kiss him until Dan’s mouth was soft, smiling, swollen. Wanted to put his mouth on Dan, set his teeth gently into Dan’s skin and bite down. Wanted to push his fingers into Dan’s mouth and feel them get sucked and nibbled and then move them down Dan’s body and slide them, wet with spit, into Dan’s ass and swallow the small cry Dan would make with another kiss.
He took off his jacket and shoes and loosened his tie. Then he went to his knees by the couch and waited for Dan to wake up and see him. It didn’t take long; as if Dan could feel the weight of Tyler’s regard, his eyes opened in a stuttering sweep of his lashes and focused on Tyler. Before he woke up the whole way, he smiled, a drowsy, unthinking response to seeing Tyler that made Tyler feel a painful, poignant stab of emotion. Nice to be looked at that way…
“Hey,” Dan murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “You’re back.”
“Mmm.” Tyler propped his arms on the couch and leaned in to brush a kiss over Dan’s mouth. He paused just before their lips touched. “Are we still fighting?”
Dan’s eyes became more alert. “Yeah.” There was a moment when Tyler almost believed him, but it passed. Dan was staying close, his breathing even and his body relaxed. Dan sat up, swung around, and trapped Tyler’s hips between his legs. Tyler let him do it, curious, his arousal increasing. Dan undid the knot on Tyler’s tie and took hold of the ends of it, seesawing them back and forth so that the silk rubbed Tyler’s neck through his shirt and set up a burn in his skin.
Just as it got uncomfortable, Dan stopped and used his grip on the tie to slowly pull Tyler in closer, shortening the length by wrapping the fabric around his fingers. The tie was suffering and so was Tyler’s trapped dick. “So hit me.”
“Happy to,” Tyler managed to say before their mouths collided in a kiss that was all teeth and spit and hunger. Dan’s bare legs were wrapped around Tyler, holding him in place with his erection pushed up against the edge of the couch, and his neck was bent back awkwardly, but he didn’t care.
“Ow,” Dan said, breaking off the kiss. His eyes were half-closed again. “You pack a mean punch. Guess we’d better stop this before someone gets hurt.”
“You want to stop?” He wasn’t teasing now. He wanted to know.
Dan caught his lower lip between his teeth, the amusement gone from his face, and shook his head. “Don’t want to stop. Not this right now, not whatever it is we’re doing. Don’t want to stop…” He shifted forward and let go of one end of the tie, his hand going down to work its way between the couch and Tyler’s body. Dan’s knuckles caressed the head of Tyler’s cock, not gently, and Tyler grunted, sparks showering down against the blackness behind his eyes, closed because he couldn’t deal with both the touch and the need in Dan’s eyes.
“Just want this in me,” Dan finished.
Tyler took Dan’s hand, brought it up, and forced the loose end of his tie into Dan’s fingers. Dan frowned, but accepted it, and gave Tyler a questioning look.
Tyler put his hands over Dan’s, knuckles against his palms, and tugged down, once. He needed Dan to have this before he fucked him… Dan’s breath caught, surprise showing on his face and then comprehension. Dan drew Tyler’s head down until Tyler’s face was against cheap cotton and his mouth was pressed against the precise point where Dan’s cock met his balls, hardness above, a soft swell of flesh below. Letting Dan guide him, he mouthed and licked at the fabric, wetting it down until it clung to skin, kneeling by choice, giving Dan what he wanted, without bargaining, without price.
He loved doing this. Loved feeling the self-imposed frustration build, deepening the intensity of his arousal, as he was denied the direct taste and feel of Dan’s cock, loved the small gasps Dan was making as Tyler worked him hard, harder, solid. Loved the way the tie was a band of pressure across the back of his neck, holding him down so that he was sure Dan wanted it, without a doubt. Holding him down, but in a way that freed him.
“Suck me, suck me,” Dan chanted, his hips jerking up, bumping Tyler’s nose with his cock. “God, Tyler, you’re fucking killing me here.”
He planned on it. Suck Dan, get him to come, fuck him while he was relaxed… oh, he had it all planned out. Of course, the first item on the list was getting him so hot he might just come doing it, which would delay things a bit.
He reached up and hooked his fingers under the tie, then pulled it free of the shirt collar and over his head, leaving Dan holding it, a loose dangle of silk. He put out his hand and Dan placed the twisted, creased silk in it, warm from being held.
“You looked so good when you walked out of here,” Dan told him, the words earnest. “I should have told you that.”
Nonplussed by the compliment as much as the timing, Tyler shrugged. “Thanks.” He undid the top two buttons on his shirt. “Not all that comfortable, though.”
Dan lay back on the couch, sprawled out, his shorts far enough down on his hips that the tip of his cock was visible, a bluntly rounded shape. He looked debauched, and the slow, wicked grin on his face only added to that impression. As Tyler watched, Dan dragged the fingers of both hands over the front of his shorts, framing his cock but never touching it. Each downward pass of his hands bared more skin; each upward stroke veiled it again.