Drawn Page 8

  "Maybe."

  "No, no maybes. It's for real."

  Giles stood, stretched, turned away from him, so he grabbed Giles' hips, tugged him in close. He wanted to touch for hours, days, until Giles had soaked all the attention in.

  "Turn the water off, G. Let's go back to bed."

  "Back to bed?" Giles' eyes went wide.

  "We can do it on the couch if you want a change of scenery."

  "So long as you don't try to make me go to sleep again."

  He chuckled softly, shook his head. Silly lover. "No, I didn't have sleep in mind at all."

  "You can't want more sex."

  "No, G. I want to give you more sensation."

  "I probably need to go to work." Giles followed him to bed, though, fingers twined with his.

  "No, I don't think so. This is important, this thing between us."

  Giles met his eyes, the look curious, interested.

  "Can't you feel it?" He slid his hands down Giles' back. Giles answered by arching, moaning deep in his throat. "Yeah, you can." He brought one hand around and tweaked Giles' nipple.

  "Hey. They're sensitive now." Giles didn't move away.

  "Makes it better." He tugged on the nipple ring, letting it do the work of making Giles ache.

  "Ow." Giles followed the tug, crawled into the sheets.

  "You love it."

  "You always talk like you know me." Giles chuckled, hands covering the pierced nipples. "What if I'm faking it?"

  Harrison snorted, tugged on the other nipple. He knew. He was fascinated by Giles, by that need. "You can't fake these kinds of responses."

  "T...talent. It's a talent."

  Harrison laughed. "You do have talent, I just don't think faking being a pain slut is one of them."

  Giles chuckled for him, winked, a flash of humor tickling him, and he laughed and bit at Giles' neck.

  "Bitey!" Giles cracked up.

  "I know you love the bitey."

  "You're guessing. You don't know me."

  He grabbed Giles' hands, pressed them down into the mattress. "No, I know you. I know what you need. I have what you need."

  Giles frowned at him. "I don't know what to say to that."

  "You say 'thank you, Sir.'"

  "I... thank you."

  He arched one eyebrow. "What happened to the 'Sir'?"

  He watched as Giles shivered, tugged at his hands, obviously uncomfortable. "I. You're serious?"

  "Yes." He wasn't letting go, damn it. "Master or Sir."

  "Master? Are you... this is a weird game."

  "It's not a game, G. It's as real as you and me." He let one leg slide between Giles' thighs.

  "I don't get you." Giles was serious. Steady.

  "You will. I promise."

  Giles nodded, still frowning when Harrison let go of the man's wrists. Giles' fingers reached for him, sliding over his skin.

  "That's right, G. We're going to explore, learn every inch."

  "I'm a little... I don't know. This is strange."

  "Maybe I should tie you up again." Then it wouldn't be something Giles was doing, it would be something Giles had to do.

  "No. No more tying, I don't think."

  "If you want to touch me, you'll have to behave." He got another of those looks, like Giles couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not. He tweaked Giles' right nipple ring, watching the man's face. The tension eased, turned to hunger.

  It made him smile, and he slid his hand over to the other nipple. So simple and yet so complex, his Giles. It was going to be fascinating, learning each other. He tweaked the other nipple, tugged the ring down.

  "Hey." Giles shifted, grabbed his wrist. "Easy."

  "No. No, you don't need easy. You need this." He tweaked it with his other hand.

  This time the man's eyes flashed, a hint of anger in them. "Stop it. Just. Quit talking like you know me."

  "But I do, G." Let's see how the man took that.

  "How? You've seen me three times. Three!" Well, that was... a reaction.

  "You speak to me, G, even when your mouth doesn't move. I can read your body like a book."

  Giles stiffened, stared at him. "That's a little scary. I don't think I want you to. I mean, I have secrets."

  "Like what?" Giles was so worried about what he thought, about the needs the man had.

  Giles looked at him like he was crazy. "If I told you, they wouldn't be secrets."

  He chuckled, then made an apologetic noise as the stare turned into a glare. "I know what you need. I know the pain is important. It's not making me run; it's not making me send you to the loony bin." The pain and the pleasure, mingled. That was the thing Giles hadn't put together. "I'm going to make you fly, G. It's going to make your focus clearer."

  Giles pressed into his arms, hugged him hard. "I have to go. You're a dear man, but I have to run."

  "No. Not yet." He wasn't ready yet, and Giles hadn't been pushed enough.

  "Not yet?"

  He wrapped around Giles, held on. "We need more time together before you go back to your studio."

  Giles took a deep breath, then another and another.

  "And when you do go, I'm going to fill you with a plug to remember me by."

  "I'll take it out."

  "Not if it's attached to your nipple rings, you won't."

  Giles blinked, head tilting as the man stared at him. "What?"

  "If I attach it to your nipple rings, then you won't be able to pull it out." It would probably be physically possible for Giles to do it, if he really tried, but it would take time, effort, and he was pretty sure Giles wouldn't really want to, not deep down.

  "I. You can't. Can you?"

  "Oh, I can. I most certainly can."

  Giles shook his head, staring at him. "Who are you?"

  "Harrison. Your Sir."

  "My... You're serious about this."

  "What have we been doing for the last twenty-four hours?" This was becoming incredibly circular.

  "Playing around. Having a lot of great sex." Giles grinned at him. "A lot of great sex."

  "It's more than just great sex if it's something you really need. And it is something you really need."

  Giles sighed at him, frowned, but didn't say anything. Giles would get it. Eventually.

  Harrison took a kiss, opening Giles' mouth. Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, Giles' lips parting as the kiss deepened. That was right. Giles felt the connection, even if he wouldn't admit it. Or maybe Giles didn't know how to admit. Either way it didn't matter, because Harrison knew.

  He bent Giles backward, deepening the kiss as Giles cried out, pliant in his arms. His arm made sure the man went down onto the mattress gently, then he pressed his body over Giles'. A deep, heady sound escaped Giles, and the long legs parted, cradled him.

  "Mine," he murmured against Giles' mouth. He could feel it in the way Giles' skin pushed against his fingertips. Giles murmured something, but he let it go by. Harrison knew it. Knew Giles. He twisted one of the pretty little rings in Giles' right nipple. "I want to see what you paint when I let you go."

  "You do?"

  "I do. I want to know if I had an effect on you." He would bet he did.

  "I don't let people in the studio, usually."

  Yes, but Giles had already let him in, so that was an empty protest. "I'm not people."

  "Ah. That explains you." Giles' eyes twinkled. "You're an alien."

  Harrison laughed. "And you're a nut."

  "Possibly. An almond, maybe."

  That had him laughing some more. "Fuck, that was funny."

  Giles grinned at him, cheek on his upper arm. "Do you smoke?"

  "No. I hate the smell."

  "Me, too. I did in high school, though, to seem cool." Giles' fingers trailed down his belly. "Your turn."

  "Have you had many lovers?"

  "I did in college, but not so many after." Giles cupped his cock. "When did you know you were queer?"

  He pushed into Gile
s' touch. The man's fingers were addictive, constantly moving, feeling, touching him. "That depends on what you mean by 'when did you know.'"

  "I mean, when did you go, 'Dude, I like cock.'"

  Oh, that was easy. "Kind of always. I didn't understand it was being queer, it was just what I liked. Eventually I realized what it meant."

  "Yeah. I get what you're saying."

  "What about you?"

  "I knew when I was a kid, when I realized I didn't think about girls like everyone else."

  Harrison nodded, pleased that they had that in common. "Yeah, yeah, exactly. What was it like growing up with a twin?"

  Giles' laugh rang out. "She's amazing and evil and wonderful. She loves me when no one else does. She's the one that defends me."

  "Is she going to like me?"

  Giles looked at him. Blinked. "I don't know. She might be jealous."

  Harrison frowned. Now, how did that make sense? "Jealous?"

  Giles nodded like it was the most logical thing in the world. "I was jealous when she got married."

  "I'm not sure I get it, G."

  Giles chuckled, shrugged. "No worries. Happens all the time. Do you like dogs?"

  "I like them okay. I want to know why she would be jealous of me, though. I'm not replacing her -- I'm your lover, not your brother."

  Giles sighed. "Just ignore me, huh? I'm being dorky."

  He pushed Giles' hair back from his face and looked into the man's eyes. "I have no intention of ignoring you."

  "You act like you care about me already."

  "I thought I'd made it clear that I did. Do. You know what I mean."

  "But you can't. Not so fast."

  "Why on earth not?"

  Giles hand patted him. "Because that's in books. It doesn't happen for real."

  That made him snort. "Things happen the way they happen. Is this just sex to you?"

  Giles bit his own bottom lip, hard enough that it had to hurt.

  "Hey." He licked at Giles' lips until they relaxed. "I'm not going to be upset if you say 'yes' to that." He wasn't going to believe it, but he also wasn't going to be pissed off.

  "You're quiet. That's why I had sex with you, that quiet."

  He smiled slowly. "So I'm special to you."

  "You're special, yes. You have this silence. It's hot." Giles closed his eyes. "Necessary."

  "You see?" He kissed one side of Giles' mouth, and then the other. "It's not just sex."

  "It's chemistry." Giles lips chased his kisses.

  "For an artist, you're very pragmatic."

  Giles moaned. "For somebody not an artist, you think a lot."

  "Is that your way of saying shut up and make me scream?"

  Giles answered by pouncing on him, kissing him hard. Chuckling, he rolled them, putting Giles down beneath him. If he was careful, he could keep Giles busy for the rest of the day.

  He was certainly going to try.

  Chapter Six

  Giles let himself get lost in the work, let himself forget that Harrison had asked to come in, watch. It hadn't been as impossible as he'd thought. Harrison was quiet, still, the presence incredibly comforting. He worked three canvases at a time, telling himself a story with reds and blacks and deep, rich oranges.

  Harrison's touch slid over his shoulder. "Giles. Food's here."

  "Food?" What? He wasn't hungry.

  "It's been hours, G, you need to eat. Just a short break."

  "Hours? But..." Had it been?

  "Five to be exact. And I'm hungry, so I'm sure you are, too. So I ordered us some Thai food."

  Thai food. He liked that. "Okay. I like that."

  "I know. That's what I brought last time. We'll be more adventurous some other time." Harrison took his hand and drew him to his little futon.

  He followed, humming, brain still on the second canvas.

  Harrison tugged him down and handed him a box. "Open it. Eat."

  "Uh-huh." He opened the box and took a bite, chewing meditatively. Then he stood up, heading for the canvases, food in hand.

  Harrison grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the futon. "Eat with me."

  "I... Sorry. Sorry, the work." Harrison smelled good. "Why do you smell good?"

  "I shower?"

  "Oh." He'd have to buy some of Harrison's soap.

  Chuckling, Harrison tugged him in close and grabbed one of his shrimp.

  "Are those yours?" From where he was, all he could see was Harrison.

  "They are ours. We're sharing."

  "Oh. What am I sharing of yours?" He peered over, seeing yummy-looking chicken and noodles.

  "Chicken Pad Thai." Harrison picked up a mouthful with his chopsticks and offered it.

  "Yum." He took the bite, slurping up the noodles. The spice was delicious, perfect, and he opened his mouth for more. Harrison smiled wide and picked up another piece of chicken with some noodle, pressing it to his mouth. It was delicious, and he found himself in Harrison's lap, feeding the man bites of shrimp in exchange for more chicken.

  "I could get used to eating like this."

  "Mmmhmm." He was a little lost in it, really, and he leaned in, licking sauce off Harrison's lips. Groaning, Harrison slid his tongue alongside, the flavor of the man and the spice mixing together.

  That made him smile, sigh. "Hey."

  "Hey." Harrison reached and then offered him a shrimp, hand-feeding him. He took the shrimp, then focused on cleaning Harrison's fingers with his tongue. He could feel the heat of Harrison's cock through his jeans, the hardness there increasing as he sucked and licked.

  "I'm working, not here to fuck." Still, he'd never fucked here.

  "You're the one sucking my fingers like they're candy." Harrison did look like he wanted to screw, though.

  "Wanted to make sure you were clean." He liked sucking.

  "Oh, you did, did you?" Harrison grabbed a noodle, fed it to him, and then wiped his fingers off on his collarbone.

  Giles chuckled, tickled. He leaned in, dragging his tongue over Harrison's skin.

  "Mmm. Make sure you don't miss a spot."

  He nodded, smiled, tongue lapping at the tanned skin, making Harrison groan and moan for him, hips pushing up into him.

  "There," he moaned. "All cleaned."

  "Mmm. Are you sure?"

  He tested with the tip of his tongue, satisfied. "I am. You taste like your skin now."

  "And I smell like you."

  He leaned in, took a deep breath. "No. No, you smell like you."

  Harrison cupped his cheek and then tugged him in for a kiss. Their mouths were spicy, the kisses more than hot. Almost as hot as the feel of Harrison's hands as they slid up and down along his back.

  They pressed together, and he let himself feel the heat all along his belly. Groaning, Harrison deepened the kiss, fingernails occasionally scraping over his skin. Everything went out of his mind, his focus on the way he and Harrison touched.

  Harrison bit at his lower lip, tugged on it. He groaned, pushed closer, his prick full, almost uncomfortable. Almost.

  Harrison brought him closer, rubbed their bellies together. One kiss led to another, then another, and Giles was floating. Their bodies rocked, their mouths sliding together, parting, coming together again. He tugged at Harrison's shirt, wanting more skin.

  Harrison nodded. "Take it off, G."

  "Uh-huh. Want skin." He pulled the cloth open, then off.

  Harrison let go of him long enough to get the shirt off, then the strong arms went around him and tugged him in close.

  "Mmm." His eyes closed, that amazing silence Harrison had surrounding him.

  Harrison licked at his neck, at his collarbone. He thought he could just stay there forever, resting in the quiet.

  "Do you want more shrimp or chicken?" Harrison asked, still licking at his skin.

  He shook his head. He wanted something else. "I'm good."

  "Me, too." Harrison latched on to his shoulder, sucking, mouth hot.

  Giles let h
imself melt, relax totally, as Harrison's fingers slid to his ass and squeezed, bringing up the burn. "Mmm. Be nice."

  "I am being nice. Making you feel, making you remember what we did."

  He was too happy to argue, to do anything but rest, and when Harrison lay back, he followed, attached at the lips. There was a perfect spot on Harrison's chest, just for him.

  The kisses continued, Harrison seeming happy to explore his mouth, and Giles felt a little drunk, a little like he'd been drugged. He couldn't remember just kissing forever like this. Not ever. He couldn't remember anyone ever wanting to do that with him.

  Giles thought he liked it.

  Slowly, so slowly he almost didn't notice it, they began to rock, to rub together. Giles let his fingers slide over Harrison's skin, petting the man. Hums and moans answered his touches, pushed between his lips.

  "Feels good." Everything about Harrison felt so good.

  "You feel amazing, G. So good."

  "Mmm." He didn't want to screw this up.

  Harrison's hand slid between them, fingers opening the button on his jeans.

  "I don't have sex in here..." He sucked in, let Harrison unfasten them.

  "Why not?" The zipper gave way under Harrison's fingers.

  "I... This is the studio." He worked here.

  "Okay." Harrison kept kissing him, hand wrapping around his cock.

  "O...okay." He didn't even know what he was agreeing to.

  "Take my prick out, too, G."

  "Mmmhmm." He nuzzled, fingers sliding over Harrison's belly.

  "Love your hands. Love them."

  Oh. Oh, good. He smiled, fingers sliding up and down Harrison's cock, reminding himself of the shape, before opening the man's jeans. Harrison groaned and bucked, pushing into his touch, into him. It was the easiest thing ever to take Harrison's cock out, stroke it. Then Harrison pushed their cocks together and wrapped both their hands around them.

  "Mmm." He moaned, lips parted, tongue on Harrison's skin.

  Harrison moved their hands. The silk of their cocks felt amazing and hot against his palm. They found a rhythm, slow and steady, moving like they didn't have a care in the world. Their tongues tangled together, Harrison tasting as good as he smelled. Their eyes met, Harrison's dark eyes warm and happy, and when Harrison's thumb slid across the tips of their cocks, the man's nostrils flaring at the touch, Giles thought he could just fly.