*~*Warning: This is a slash PWP lemon. So, if you don't want to see two guys going at it for little-to-no reason, please turn back. I don't want to offend anybody. Kiddies, you shouldn't be here. This was written solely for enjoyment…so enjoy!*~*
by P.A. Lovas
The door's resistance gave way to a sharp pull, revealing colored lights and cheerful crooning. Nathan slowly stepped in, whirling around with a start as the heavy door closed with a ferocious clamor. Raising a hand to his chest, his honey brown eyes slipping closed as his breath came in small gasps. He yelped when a hand dropped to his shoulder, whipping toward the intruder, hand poised in a fist.
"Woah, calm down." The stranger offered a lopsided smile that spread readily to smoky gray eyes. "You sure are jumpy."
Nathan's eyes narrowed a bit, the act directed more at himself. "I am not."
"Alright, you're not," the boy said, giving a small shrug. He took a step back, his eyes traveling Nathan's body, squinting intently.
"What?" Nathan snapped, shifting uncomfortably under the smoldering gaze. "What are you doing?"
The boy flashed that infuriating smile, cocking his head to the side. "Appraising."
He laughed, pushing his hair back with a quick stroke of his hand. Nathan watched as the ebony strands fell back down, hanging loosely around his face in a messy style he assumed was the boy's alone. "You're here for sets, right?"
Nathan's eyes blinked wide, his eyebrows furrowing lightly. "How did you know that?"
"You're not gay enough to be in the cast."
Searching the boy's face, Nathan was shocked to see he wasn't joking. "What? Are all the people here gay?"
"Not everybody," the boy chuckled. "Actors are genetically gay. They may not be homosexual, but we've all got flamboyant tendencies."
"Oh," Nathan said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you."
"No need for apologies." The boy's smile widened as he draped an arm across Nathan's shoulders. "The name's Vincent Demarco."
Nathan eyed the hand on his shoulder warily. "Nathan Winters."
Vincent whistled. "Nice name. You know, you look like the artsy type."
"Yep," he said, dropping Nathan a wink. "Let me bring you back to see Amanda. She's in charge of set design."
"Vinny, what are you doing? Mrs. Jacobs is looking all over for you. You were supposed to be on stage 10 minutes ago."
Nathan reeled back as a tall brunette stomped over to them, her hands poised on her hips. An overhanging smock covered her less-than-stellar body, but her face was pretty enough, under the smears of paint that ran across her nose and cheeks.
Vincent's arm slipped from around Nathan, his hands rising defensively. "I wasn't slacking off, I swear. I was doing theatre duty." He reached back and placing a hand behind Nathan's back, gave him a quick shove forward. "Meet your newest recruit."
"Oh," Amanda (Nathan guessed) said, brushing her bangs from her face with the back of her hand. Nathan noticed the pink smudge that trailed behind and grimaced. He was impeccably neat, especially when he painted and saw it irresponsible to be covered in the stuff.
"Well, I'll leave you two to be acquainted. I've got lines to fudge."
"Tell me you memorized your lines, Vinny. You know Mrs. Jacobs is going to have a coronary if you didn't."
Vincent laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sauntered from the room. "Take care of the new kid."
"Kid?" Nathan blinked. He hadn't been called that since he was seven and certainly never by somebody who acted ten years his underling.
"Vinny!" Amanda called, her arms folding across her smock in a huff. "He's nothing but utterly infuriating."
"I wouldn't know," Nathan said nonchalantly. "I only just met the guy."
"I'm sure you'll learn it soon enough," Amanda smiled and Nathan just shrugged.
Deep, smoldering gray…Stark black… Nathan stared at his pallet, watching as the two colors ran together, swirling in tantalizing mix. Beautiful…
"No no no!" Nathan picked up his head briefly, watching Amanda stamp her foot in front of a particularly gaudy looking flat. "This color is all wrong for the pavement."
"No it's not," Nathan responded, running the brush over his own canvas. As the newest member, he was automatically designated to paint the solid colors, dipping his brush into a few bland colors of paint a day, filling in large squares of color that would later be shaded and made "real" by the older members. Three weeks of wasted time. If it wasn't for needing that extracurricular credit…
"Excuse me?" Amanda's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing in front of her chest.
"I said it's not the wrong color."
Nathan nodded, rising to his feet. He bent over, scooping up his pallet and pulled a smaller brush from out of the large pile. He grumbled at the crooked bristles, wondering how anybody could treat their equipment so roughly and still call themselves an artist. "Watch," he said as he dropped to the floor, dipping the end of the brush into his gray-black mixture. He made a few dry stroked, followed by thicker ones, swooping his brush in languid patterns over the canvas, stopping to arbitrarily dip back into the paint.
Within moments, he had finished a small section, peering over his shoulder to judge the reaction. "There's never a wrong color, only wrong compositions."
"Wow," Amanda whispered, her eyes wide. He pulled her gaze from the flat, resting it on Nathan. "Why didn't you tell me you could do that?"
Nathan shrugged. "You never asked."
"Well, I'm going to make a point to from now on. That's incredible."
Nathan sighed, feeling nothing from the compliment. It was always the same thing, people gushing over his work, proclaiming him a genius. But for some reason, it never did anything for him. He just didn't care what these people had to say.
He was jolted out of his thoughts as a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, a long whistle breezing in his ear. "You do that?"
"Yeah," Nathan said, repressing a small shudder. "It's not much."
"That's fucking awesome," Vincent exclaimed, his goofy smile spreading across his face. "Man, I knew it. You're like a miniature Picasso or something."
Nathan couldn't help the small curl of his lips. "Picasso painted abstract art."
"Eh, art is art."
"No it's not."
Vincent placed a finger under Nathan's chin, tilting his head back to look him in the face. "Just shut up and take the compliment."
Pushing past the lump in his throat, Nathan nodded, feeling his heart swell with pride. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose in confusion as Vincent released him, moving to chatter excitedly with Amanda. Why did his approval actually mean something to him? Was it because of who Vincent was? The star of the show, with people tripping over themselves to be friends with him, trying to draw that smoldering gaze to them. Nathan had sneaked into a rehearsal session, ducking behind one of black backdrop curtains so as not to be seen. It was then that he learned of the power Vincent had over people. No matter what he did wrong, how many lines he screwed up (or didn't even bother to learn), all it took was one of his smiles and a well-placed laugh to have the whole thing dismissed. People openly fawned over him, vying for his approval. Nathan sighed. Apparently, he was no different.
"Hey," Vincent said, dropping to Nathan's side, idly toying with the handle to the paintbrush that was pushed behind Nathan's ear. "We're having a cast party at the Luigi's. You wanna come?"
"Aren't cast parties usually held after the show?"
Vincent smiled, tucking back some of Nathan's light brown hair. "That's only if you have one."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "But I'm not part of the cast."
"Close enough. You'll be my guest. Besides, didn't you ever hear that the leading male gets to bring a date?" Anything Nathan might have uttered was frozen in his throat. Date? Him? Me? "I'll pick you up at seven."
"It's already six-forty-five," Nathan choked out. Oh my God. Did I just agree?
Vincent laughed, dropping a quick wink. "Then I'll pick you up now. I think the paint on your nose is cute, anyway."
Nathan blinked. "Huh?"
"It's right here," Vincent responded, poking him between the eyes. His smile faded as his finger trailed over the plains of his nose, resting briefly on Nathan's lips, making him inadvertently shiver. Vincent's hands dropped to his side and the goofy smile was back, though, Nathan couldn't help but notice that it wasn't his grin that was shining in his eyes.
"Best pizza around," Vincent said for the eighth time, slouching against the car door. He peered over as Nathan stood up, looking around.
"Why are we parked all the way out here?"
"You have a problem with walking?" Vincent asked, circling around to stand in front of him. "Would you rather I carry you?"
Nathan's eyes widened as he pushed his back against the side of the car. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. His throat felt dry, his head hazy, and he began to wonder if maybe he couldn't walk.
"I wouldn't mind it, though." Vincent grinned, wagging his eyebrows.
"Are you gay?" Nathan cringed, kicking himself mentally as the words tumbled from his mouth. He wasn't sure why he asked, and as a stunned look crossed Vincent's face, he wished beyond anything else that he could take it back.
"Sure," Vincent said with a shrug, and Nathan felt like all the breath had been sucked from his body.
"But I thought you weren't. You said-"
"You assumed. I never said I wasn't."
"But-" Nathan paused, trying to think of what he wanted to say.
"Look," Vincent said, his eyes reflecting a seriousness that Nathan had never seen there before. "I don't go around parading what I am, but I'm not going to lie or hide it either. Let's go." Nathan wanted to scream as he watched Vincent walk away from him. Why did I have to go and open my mouth? Oh well, what's done is done.
Luigi's wasn't very crowded, save the theater group huddled in the center of the room, making enough noise for the entire place. They had pushed four tables together and Nathan noticed that Vincent was already pulled into the mix of it, surrounded by people at all angles. He sighed, dropping into an empty table in the corner. Why did I agree to this?
"Can I help you?" a young waiter asked, flashing Nathan a bright smile. Nathan shrugged, looking over to stare at Vincent's back.
"Yeah, can you turn back time?"
"Excuse me?" The waiter looked extremely confused and Nathan just shook his head.
Nathan let his head drop to the table, staring off into nothingness, not even noticing as the waiter placed his drink on the table. This sucks this sucks this sucks, he sang over and over in his head, wincing as he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt.
"Come on," Vincent said, keeping his face turned and Nathan nodded slowly, allowing himself to be led. He blinked as Vincent dragged him into the bathroom, throwing him into a stall and locking the door before pinning him against the wall. "What exactly is your problem?"
"What do you mean?" Nathan shoved his hands behind his back, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking.
"Are you so repulsed by me being gay that you can't even sit at the same table with me?"
"That's not it," Nathan cried, surprising himself with the forcefulness.
"Then what is it?"
Nathan shifted under the intensity of that gaze, feeling naked and vulnerable. Nobody had ever made him feel like that before and it scared him. "There was no room."
"Bullshit. You could have made some."
"I-" Nathan paused, lifting his eyes to meet Vincent's and saw the whites of his eyes shining in his anger.
"I thought you hated me," he finally whispered pathetically.
"Hate you?" Vincent blinked, the anger draining from his face as he raised a hand, gently brushing Nathan's cheek. "I couldn't hate you. If you had any idea of how I actually feel about you-"
Nathan gave a quivering sigh, leaning into Vincent's touch. "I…I think I do…"
"Yeah?" Vincent's hand slipped under Nathan's chin, tilting it up as he stared searchingly into his eyes, and Nathan nodded weakly, feeling as if his stomach was going to be pulled from his body. "Well, I guess we have to do something about that."
In one quick motion, Vincent pressed his mouth to Nathan's, his hands sliding into his hair, holding him in the kiss. Nathan let his eyes slip closed, thankful for the wall supporting him, knowing without it, he would have been sprawled out on the floor. He pulled his arms from behind his back, placing a trembling hand on Vincent's cheek as he melted into the kiss.
"You're shaking," Vincent said softly, pulling back. "Should I stop?"
"No." Nathan felt himself flush at the certainly in his own voice. "If you do, I think I'll explode."
"We can't have that," Vincent said, pulling Nathan to him, his breath hot and wet against Nathan's skin as he whispered into his ear. "I can make you feel amazing, Nathan, but only if you want me to."
"I-" Nathan squinted his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around Vincent's neck, holding himself upright. "I don't even know what I'm asking for."
"I'll show you." Vincent smiled, shifting his face to catch Nathan's mouth in another mind numbing kiss. He nudged Nathan's lips apart, making him groan as he slipped into his mouth, stroking with a sweet intensity. Nathan pushed himself deeper into the kiss, startling himself as he returned Vincent's urgency.
"That's good," Vincent urged when Nathan stiffened in uncertainty. His voice was deeper, headier, and Nathan felt his trembling increase. "Keep doing that."
Nathan found himself easily lost in the feel of Vincent's lips on his own, his taste, his smell. He groaned as Vincent's hands slipped under his shirt, placing small, teasing strokes to his inflamed skin. They slid lower, a few fingers slipping into the waist of his jeans and Nathan found his body pushing into those hands that were so close to the source of his pain.
"You can tell me to stop at any moment," Vincent murmured as his pressed his mouth to Nathan's neck, sucking at a sensitive area right under his jaw.
Nathan could only moan his response, not trusting himself to move or speak. His mind was whispering to him in fear, but his body screamed of his need and his heart swelled in an unknown emotion, drowning out any protests he might have. He was vaguely aware of Vincent toying with the button on his jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper, gauging Nathan's reaction the whole time. Nathan let his eyes flutter closed, nodding once, feeling a small chill as Vincent slid his pants down to hang stubbornly around his legs.
Vincent sunk down to his knees, burying his face against Nathan's stomach as he slid his fingers into the waistband of Nathan's boxers. Nathan shivered, feeling completely vulnerable, those stubborn doubts creeping from the back of his mind. His eyes flew open, his head slamming back into the wall as Vincent's fingers brushed over him. He swore, a hand flying up to rub at his skull, as stars danced in front of his vision.
"That's why they call it 'giving head'," Vincent joked causing Nathan to groan. He reached a hand up, the tips of his fingers sweeping along his jaw line. "Are you alright?"
"You want me to stop?"
Nathan felt himself flush, the whole thing seeming much clearer without the initial haze that flooded his mind. "No," he said slowly, trying to mask out any sounds of doubt.
"Alright, but don't hurt yourself," Vincent teased softly, his hands falling to rest on Nathan's waist. "And whatever you do, don't scream."
Nathan opened his mouth to question the statement, when Vincent moved forward, taking his erection into his mouth. He cried out, a hand flying to his mouth trying in vain to prevent the deep groans that rose from his throat as Vincent worked him with a skill that could only have been born of practice. Vincent's mouth was hot, wet, driving him to a place hanging in the balance between pleasure and pain, and he sunk his teeth into his index finger to prevent himself from screaming in sweet torture. His breath came in quick gasps and he felt as if he was going to drop to the floor beside Vincent. He bit down harder as a scream nestled in his throat.
His eyes flew open as he felt Vincent pull back and he opened his mouth to question the reasoning. Vincent's smile stopped any words as he rose to his feet, seizing his wrist. "You're hurting yourself," he explained, showing Nathan the small wounds on his finger. Vincent brought Nathan's hand to his mouth, licking away the blood and spit that trickled from it, his eyes locked with Nathan's. "Let's get out of here. Then you can scream all you want."
Nathan nodded, reaching down to pull his pants up, wondering how in the hell they were going to make it from the restaurant without drawing attention. A quick glance told Nathan that Vincent was in just as bad shape as he was, increasing his doubts.
"Follow my lead," Vincent said and Nathan nodded as he finished buttoning his jeans. Vincent unlocked the stall and dramatically sidled over to the door. "On my count, alright? 1...2..."
"Wait, what are you-"
"3!" Vincent grabbed Nathan's hand, pulling him from the bathroom. "Fire!" he shouted as he ran past the table, dragging Nathan with him as he sped out the door. It was only a few feet from one side of the pizza parlor to the other, but Nathan felt each and every step resound heavily in his body and was breathing as if he had run a 10-mile marathon.
"Wait a second," Nathan panted out as Vincent continued to drag him at a, thankfully, much slower pace. "Aren't they going to come out to see what happened?"
"Nah. I do that all the time."
Nathan felt as if somebody had slapped him in the face. "You do?"
Vincent peered over his shoulder, giving him a lopsided grin. "Jealous?"
"No...I mean...I just..." Nathan sputtered out, eyes narrowing as Vincent laughed. "Why are you laughing?"
Vincent leaned against the side of his car, pulling Nathan into his arms. "Cause you're cute when you're angry."
Any arguments Nathan had died with that comment. "W-what?"
"See? There you go again," Vincent said, nuzzling Nathan's neck.
"Vin, seriously, how many people have you done that with?"
"You really wanna know?"
Nathan thought for a moment, asking himself that very same question. What if the number was enormously high? What would he do then? "Yes," he stated finally. "I want to know."
Vincent lifted his head, not removing his arms from around Nathan's waist. "A few."
"How many is a few?"
"I dunno," Vincent sighed. "4...5...Does it really matter that much to you?"
Tilting his head, Nathan let himself fall into Vincent's sexy eyes and he reached out, brushing away a few strands of his hair. Coal and ash...so beautiful... "No," Nathan finally said, shaking his head lightly. "It doesn't matter."
"Good." Vincent smiled, bending his head to place a long, deep kiss to Nathan's mouth. "Now, do you want me to take you home, or shall we continue this inside?"
"In the car? Here?"
"Yep," Vincent smirked, pressing a kiss to Nathan's nose. "Unless you have a problem with that."
Nathan thought for a moment, his eyes searching the parking lot. It was relatively quiet here and they were parked on the side of the building away from prying eyes. "Wait a second," Nathan said, his eyes widening with his last thought. "Did you plan all this tonight?"
"Eh?" Vincent blinked. "Did I plan what?"
"All this. This is all pretty convenient."
Vincent laughed nervously, pushing his back against the car door. "This was me being hopeful. I can't say I didn't plan this trip innocently, but it's not like it was written in a day planner or anything."
Nathan cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing. "You planned this trip to seduce me?"
"In hopes of seducing you," Vincent corrected, looking at him guiltily. "Am I in trouble?"
"Perhaps," Nathan said with a small smile. "We'll see."
"Oh will we?" Vincent returned the grin as he broke away, reaching into his pocket for his keys. He moved around to the back, popping the lock and climbed in.
"What are you doing?" Nathan asked, peering over Vincent's shoulder.
"One second," Vincent responded, fumbling with the seats. "Got it!" In one fluid motion, the seats slid forward revealing a rather roomy area. Vincent held out a hand, his head bowed to keep from smacking into the roof. "Care to join me?"
Nathan let his gaze slide across the parking lot before reluctantly placing his hand into Vincent's, allowing himself to be pulled into the car. He crawled further in, crossing his legs as he watched Vincent move to shut the door. "I didn't know you could do that."
"The joy of SUVs. Looks like shit to drive," he began, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. "Big back seats."
Again, Nathan found himself wondering how many people Vincent had brought back here. What did they look like? What had he done with them? His mind swam with questions that he didn't really want to ask. All he wanted was to be in Vincent's arms again, to have him look just at him, if only for that one moment.
Vincent dropped down beside him, watching Nathan methodically. "What are you thinking about? I hope it's me."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "Do you think the world revolves around you?"
"It doesn't?" Nathan shook his head at the perfect look of shock on Vincent's face. There was a reason he got the lead in the play, that's for damn sure. Though, it did make him question whether or not Vincent might be acting when it came to him. "So, was it me?"
"Would it make you happy if I said 'yes'?"
"Yep," Vincent said, crawling over in front of Nathan. He sat up, his hands resting on his knees, his head tilted to the side. "You know, you don't have to be here if you don't wanna."
"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be," Nathan said simply, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug.
"Alright." There was a small pause as Vincent stared intently at him. "Can I kiss you?"
"You're asking me now?"
Vincent laughed, sliding a hand behind Nathan's head. "Good point," he said, pressing his lips against Nathan's. The kiss was soft and sweet for just a moment before desire caught up to them again, and they were plunging into each other's mouths. Keeping his hand behind Nathan's head, Vincent slowly lowered him to the floor, positioning himself so he was pressing him, ever so lightly, into the shag carpet. Nathan moaned as Vincent's hands sidled under his shirt, stroking him with same intensity he was giving his mouth. He lifted his arms as Vincent pushed the cloth up, pulling it over Nathan's head before throwing it to the side recklessly. A deep groan rose from Nathan's throat as Vincent kissed his chest, licking and sucking across his entire torso. His hands rose, twining in those stark-black strands, tugging them lightly in his pleasure.
"You know," Vincent began as he fumbled with the button on Nathan's jeans. "There's a few things we could do here."
Nathan felt his face flush lightly, and he gulped, lifting his hips to allow Vincent to slide his pants off. "Like what?"
"Well, I could jerk you off, but that's not really much fun. I could finish blowing you," he smirked, dropping to place a hard kiss to Nathan's stiffening erection. "Or, I could…"
"You could what?" Nathan panted out.
Vincent looked off to the side thoughtfully. "I don't want to call it 'fucking' in this instance, but-"
"What, call it 'fucking'?"
"No," Nathan said, fixing his eyes on Vincent's. "Fuck me."
Vincent's eyes widened, probably as surprised at Nathan's words as Nathan, himself, was. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly, staring down into Nathan's face. "Are you really really sure?"
"Yes," Nathan said, baffled by how true it was. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this, wanted to be Vincent's, wanted to feel him in every possible way. He wasn't entirely sure on how it would work, but something inside him told him Vincent knew.
"I mean, are you really really really sure? If you're not, say it now, cause in about three seconds it'll take the Jaws of Life to pry me off of you."
Nathan nodded, his answer uttered quickly, without any question. "Yes. I'm positive."
There was a small noise, somewhere between a growl and a moan, which breezed past Vincent's lips, and he swooped down, kissing Nathan with a ferocity that he hadn't shown before. Tremors ran across Nathan's spine at the act, and he slipped his hands under Vincent's shirt, pushing to lift it over his shoulders.
Vincent picked himself up, ducking his head through the top of the shirt, allowing Nathan to pull it from his arms. He watched in amusement as Nathan turned the fabric right side out. "What are you doing?"
"What?" Nathan blinked up at him, seriously confused. "I'm folding your shirt."
Vincent laughed, running the back of his hand along Nathan's face. "How did you not know you're gay?"
"This is not gay, it's neat," Nathan stated defensively.
"Fine fine," Vincent said as he began to unbutton his own jeans. He clumsily pulled them from his body, smirking as he tossed his boxers to one side and his pants at Nathan. "Fold these then."
Nathan opened his mouth to retort, but all words seemed to fly from his head as he gazed at Vincent's naked body. He had seen nude men before, having had to draw them for art classes, but there was something about Vincent's body that sent all the blood rushing from his head and into an entirely different organ. He could only gape as he watched Vincent crawl over to the seats, reaching into the pocket that was stretched across the back.
Vincent pulled out a handful of items and shifted through them briefly before fisting two of them, dropping the rest back into the pouch. "Hey," he said, throwing a smile over his shoulder. "I thought you wanted to fold clothes."
"I've found something better to do," Nathan responded, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring. There was something so amazing about the body before him, so many planes and angles, the way the moonlight danced over them and hit his face, casting it half in shadows. "God, I wish I had a pen."
"Really?" Vincent slid over to Nathan, an amused smile on his face. "And what would you do with it?"
Nathan pushed himself onto his arms, his eyes continuing their assault. "I want to draw you. You're-"
"Yes?" Vincent urged, raising a hand to stroke Nathan's face.
"You're beautiful," Nathan finished. He was shocked to find himself completely comfortable stating that, but then again, art had always made him feel at ease, not matter what the situation was.
Vincent chuckled lightly. "You're going to give me an ego."
"Give you an ego?" Nathan eyed him skeptically. "Are you trying to tell me you don't already have one?"
"Well…" Vincent shifted his body so he was hovering over Nathan. "I've never been called beautiful by somebody so close to being the epitome of it."
Nathan felt his face flush, not sure whether or not to believe the statement. But, those eyes reflected so seriously. Nathan pulled his gaze away and turned his head to the side, feeling mildly embarrassed. His eyes slipped closed, his body arching as he felt Vincent's hand begin a slow stroke down his body, his fingers dipping into the waist of his boxers, slipping them off fluidly.
"You can still say 'no', you know."
"I don't want to," Nathan breathed, trying to press himself closer to those hands. Those amazing hands that drove him to hover over the brink of insanity with the simplest touch.
"Alright." Vincent kissed him quickly before sitting back up, reaching for the items he had pulled from the chair. He flashed Nathan a warm smile, resting a hand on Nathan's stomach. "How do you want to do this?" he asked softly.
"I..." Nathan's eyes slipped closed, feeling panicked and confused. He wished he knew more, wished for maybe a moment he had told Vincent 'no', just so that he when the time came, he wouldn't have to have to be lead through this and spoon-fed like an idiot. He felt childish and stupid. He wanted to cry. "I don't know, Vin. I don't know anything."
"Shh, it's alright," Vincent whispered. "I'll walk you through it. Just relax, ok?"
Nathan nodded, keeping his eyes clenched shut.
"There's many ways we can do this. You can lay on your stomach, which is probably the most comfortable, but it's not very intimate."
"What else?" Nathan asked quickly, blushing a bit at his own urgency. He didn't care how uncomfortable he'd be, he wanted to be as close to Vincent as possible. He didn't want to end up some cheap thrill that would end up forgotten or one of those numbers that Vincent dismissed with a wave of his hand. He wanted to be remembered. He wanted to be special.
Vincent's lips curled knowingly and he gave a small nod. "Alright."
Nathan watched with interest as Vincent flipped the cap off a small tube, squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers before placing his free hand back onto Nathan's stomach, stroking lightly, soothingly. Nathan's head fell back, his eyes slipping closed as he tried to control his breathing. A small whimper fell past his lips as Vincent's fingers pushed into him, probing lightly.
"It's cold," he whined, dropping to rest fully on the car floor.
"It'll warm up," he heard Vincent respond as he pulled the fingers out briefly. When they returned, Nathan yelped, surprised at the small flash of pain that shot through him.
"I know," Vincent cooed softly, pushing his fingers in and out in a slow rhythm that seemed to echo Nathan's heartbeat. "It's gonna hurt a bit. Tell me to stop at anytime and I will."
"No." Nathan groaned, lifting his hips. It felt so good, those soft fingers stroking deep within him. He'd deal with all the pain in the world, as long as he could feel like this a moment longer. "Please, don't stop."
Nathan's eyes flew open as Vincent pulled back, ready to demand the reason. His words died in his throat as he saw Vincent bring a small colored package to his mouth, tearing it open with his teeth. Nathan stared, enthralled as Vincent pulled the condom from the wrapper, his eyes sparkling as he caught Nathan's.
"You wanna do it?"
Nathan nodded slowly, reluctantly. "But, I don't know how to, exactly."
Vincent smiled lightly as he reached out, taking Nathan's hands in his own, pulling them to his groin. "Just roll it up."
Nathan made no sound as his fingers moved slowly, rolling the latex over his length. He didn't pull back and he continued to stroke, feeling bolder as Vincent groaned, pushing into his hands. Beautiful, his mind repeated over and over. So beautiful...
Vincent shuddered as he pushed Nathan away. There were no words as Vincent pressed his mouth to Nathan's, kissing him with a frenzied passion as he lowered him back to the floor.
Nathan quivered as Vincent pressed between his thighs, pushing his legs up.
"Are you sure about this?" Passion made Vincent's voice deep, his words vibrating through Nathan, making him ach for more.
"Yes…please," Nathan breathed, his heart hammering so hard, he thought it was going to explode in his chest. His arm rose to circle lazily around Vincent, pulling at the strands of hair that clung to the back of his neck. He tried to keep his eyes open as Vincent pushed himself forward, slowly, so slowly, pushing past all guards, slipping into his body. Nathan cried out at the initial shock, the pain nothing compared to the general discomfort he was feeling.
"You alright?" Vincent croaked, his eyes shut, his head thrown back.
Nathan watched a bead of sweat trickle down his neck, the moonlight making it glow ethereal. Beautiful...
"It feels weird," he whimpered, feeling stupid as soon as the words tumbled from his mouth.
"I know. It'll get better." Vincent opened his eyes, peering lovingly down into Nathan's face. "Do you want me to stop?"
Nathan shook his head, tightening his hold around Vincent.
Vincent moved down, kissing Nathan deeply. He slowly pulled out, making them groan into each other's mouths as he plunged back in, beginning a steady rhythm to drive them both over the edge.
Nathan gripped at Vincent, as if trying to hold onto sanity through him, his head flying back as a deep groan rose from his throat. "Oh God, oh God," he cried in time with each thrust, the pain ebbing away to nothing but pure bliss. He writhed and moaned and pushed back, wanting, needing, demanding more. It was hard, sweet, frenzied, and so perfect in every way. His mind flew in a million directions, whirling into a haze of pleasure. He clung harder to Vincent, trying to get closer to him, needing to feel him more, relieved as he felt Vincent's mouth on his. The taste, the smell, the feelings were all Vincent, beautiful, infuriating Vincent. He was pushing into him, so intimate and so very deep. Nathan cried out as Vincent thrust faster, harder, propelling him further then he ever imagined he could go. He climaxed, screaming his name.
Nathan came to with a sigh, feeling Vincent's fingers gently stroke his cheek. He pulled open his eyes and peered over, his mind still warm and hazy. "Hey," he mumbled sleepily.
"Hey yourself," Vincent murmured, his eyes reflecting the same lazy contentment. He slid his hand over, his thumb brushing over Nathan's lips. "You ok? You seemed a bit out of it."
Nathan rolled over, letting his eyes slip closed. He was too tired to feel embarrassed, but he wasn't about to tell Vincent that he blacked out. Judging by Vincent's curious tone, and his lack of amusement, Nathan guessed that he hadn't been out long enough for Vincent to notice. Not only that, but he knew that if he told Vincent he had fucked him to unconsciousness he'd never hear the end of it, not to mention the boy's ego would soar. "I'm fine. Just a bit foggy," he decided on. It wasn't a lie. He felt as if his brains had shot out of his dick and was almost certain he would see them smeared on the walls.
"Mm, that's good." Vincent shifted forward, scooping Nathan into his arms.
Nathan sighed contentedly at the feel of Vincent's hands stroking sweet, lazy patterns across his back. From a dark corner of his mind a question arose as he was lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Vincent's heart. Where does this leave us now?
AN: Ah, my first original short story. This was definitely an adventure to write. I know it's not spectacular, but it was a spur of the moment thing, done rather quickly, with guys I created as I wrote them. ^^; Like I said, this was an adventure of sorts. Bad ending place? Perhaps. But I want to leave myself options incase Vincent and Nathan ever decide to revisit me. We'll see…we'll see…