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“Harry,” Tristan whispered.

“I can’t look at you and not want you.” Harry moved closer, hoping physical closeness would make the point he was afraid his words weren’t. He leaned still closer, touching his lips to Tristan’s. The kiss deepened almost instantly, and he tugged Tristan to him, pressing their bodies together. Heat and passion raced up and down Harry’s spine, threatening to overwhelm him.

“Harry,” Tristan said softly and stilled.

Harry lifted his head to see what was wrong.

“We’re being watched.”

He turned. Butterscotch sat on top of the dresser, blinking and staring down at them like some queen from on high. Harry rolled his eyes and got up off the bed. He took Tristan’s hand, tugging him up. “Come on. The bed in my room is bigger, and it’s where I want you.” Damn, heaven would be Tristan in his bed every single night.

They walked hand in hand across the hall. Harry closed the door behind them and hurriedly pressed Tristan down onto the bed. The activity and excitement of the day fell away, and the swirl of thoughts centering around the club went silent as he focused on the one thing that was truly important. He worked at the remaining buttons on Tristan’s shirt and got it off. It ended up on the floor, followed by the rest of their clothes. There was fumbling because there was no truly graceful way to get his pants off with his arms full of a writhing, panting Tristan. It was completely impossible, but Harry didn’t mind in the least. Not for a single second.

“Damn, you always feel good against me,” he whispered into Tristan’s ear once they were both naked. Then Harry started sucking on his earlobe as Tristan’s cock slid alongside his. Harry wrapped his arms around Tristan’s back, stroking downward to cup his butt, holding him while he thrust upward, sliding his throbbing cock against Tristan’s smooth, warm skin. Fuck, there was nothing in the world that could ever compare to this. Nothing at all.

“Harry,” Tristan gasped. “You’re going to make me come.”

Harry stilled. It was way too soon for that, but those few words made him grin like a Cheshire cat, and his cock jumped with excitement. “I love you, Tristan,” he whispered and held him tighter.

“Harry, how can you know that? We’ve been together like this…. Is it just the sex?” Tristan gasped again. “Harry.”

“What?”

“I love you too. But are you sure?”

“Oh, honey, I’m sure.” Harry tugged Tristan down to him, kissing him hard and holding him tight. This was perfection at its most grand. He had the man he loved in his arms, and that man loved him back. The world, full of all its wonder and crap, didn’t matter in the least as long as he had Tristan. “I want you, Tristan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to feel you inside me.”

Tristan gasped again, loudly, and went completely still. “I’ve never done that.”

Harry had been expecting that answer. “But do you want to?” he asked. Tristan’s eyes met his, wide as saucers, an upward curl on his lips. Oh yeah, Tristan wanted that as much as Harry did. “Then take your time.”

“But what if I do something wrong?”

Harry stroked up Tristan’s back and over his shoulder before caressing his cheeks. “I know this will sound corny, but if you follow your heart, you can’t go wrong. I know you’ve had sex and so have I. But this is making love, and there can be no wrong. So do what feels good to you, and you’ll be just fine. I promise.” Harry smiled briefly before meeting Tristan’s lips.

The kiss reached to his soul, hot and wet, spiced with the pizza Tristan had eaten earlier. Damn, that was hot, and Harry deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Tristan’s mouth and then tugging on his lips. Tristan returned his kisses, battling Harry for dominance. He’d never done that before, and Harry thought that was hot too. He held on more tightly, shivering when Tristan stroked his cheek, imitating the way Harry had stroked his.

Harry had found that in the relationships he’d had, he was usually the one giving the tenderness, but it felt amazingly nice to be on the receiving end. Not that for the most part the guys he’d dated weren’t nice, but they hadn’t been tender. They had been little more than a quick fuck. This was as far from that as he could get. So what would he eventually do to mess it up?

“Why did you stop?” Tristan asked.

“Sorry. A stray thought raced through my mind and… well, I don’t want to mess this up.”

Tristan giggled. “Now you sound like me.” He chuckled once more and then leaned forward, kissing one of Harry’s nipples and then sucking lightly. Harry groaned softly, and the thought popped from his mind. All he could think about was Tristan’s lips, and he vibrated with ecstasy at the thought of those lips sliding down his cock. Thankfully he didn’t have to think about it for long. Tristan kissed and licked down his chest and belly before opening that perfect mouth with those pink pouty lips and then sucking him into that wet heat.

“Damn,” Harry moaned. “You’re good at that.”

Tristan grinned up at him and then started sucking him like a vacuum. Instantly Harry fisted the bedding because he didn’t know what the hell else to do. His balls pulled up close to his body, and as Tristan moved up and down his length, he alternated between gasping and moaning because he couldn’t control a damned thing about himself. Tristan’s mouth felt so utterly damned great.

“What would it be like to have this for the rest of my life?”

He slipped from Tristan’s lips. “Harry?”

“Did I say that out loud?” Harry asked, feeling stupid.

“Yeah. You want me with you for the rest of your life?”

“Of course I do. That’s what loving you means. I want you with me when I’m old and gray and can’t walk anymore and you’re still cute and sexy.” Damn, he wanted everything forever. That was what he wanted. Tristan smiled and sucked him down again, harder, and damn… just damn. He couldn’t manage to get air into his lungs because Tristan’s mouth felt so good. “I love you, Tristan.”
Now suck me.

Tristan obeyed Harry’s silent command, sucking him for all he was worth. After a few minutes, Harry couldn’t think any longer, which was probably a good thing. Thinking was most definitely overrated, and when Tristan swirled his tongue around the head of Harry’s cock, the last stream of logical thought shut down.

“Da-yum,” Harry groaned loud and long, trying not to come as pressure built. He hadn’t been this close this fast since he was a teenager. Tristan slowed his movements and then pulled away. Harry sighed and did his best to calm his throbbing cock and brain. He needed to settle, because any additional stimulation would push him right over the edge, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. This haze of amazement that his mind floated on had to last as long as possible. “In college I tried pot a few times. Got all giggly, and my head felt really light. You make me feel like that, only better.”

“So I’m like a drug?” Tristan asked, settling between his spread legs.

“Yeah, and so much more. You’re a drug I want to be addicted to and never let out of my life.” He grinned and pulled up his legs, then rolled onto his belly and slid his arms beneath the pillow. He lifted his hips and spread his legs further, issuing Tristan an invitation. The bed shook, and then Tristan pressed first one hand and then the other to his back and slowly stroked downward and over his glutes. “Yes,” he whispered. Tristan was tentative, and Harry encouraged him. “You aren’t going to hurt me.”

“I know,” Tristan responded breathily and moved closer. He leaned over Harry, pressing his hips to his butt and his chest to Harry’s back.

Warmth surrounded Harry, and weight, delicious and exciting, pressed him against the mattress. He’d forgotten what that felt like. He’d never allowed any of the men he’d been with lately, the one-night stands, to get him in so vulnerable a position. He didn’t mind with Tristan; in fact, it felt amazing. He trusted him, and with that trust he was able to let go of some of his need for control and just be happy.

“Are you sure about this?” Tristan asked.

“Yes. Use lots of lube and….” The rest of his thought flew on the white-feathered wings of Tristan’s kisses down his back. He held his breath, and Tristan continued, licking and sucking on each cheek while his fingers fluttered down along his crack and over the sensitive opening. He gasped, and Tristan touched him again, light and floaty, barely there and yet powerful and intoxicating.

“This okay?”

“Honey….” Harry sucked for air. “I’ll tell you if I… don’t like something.”

“But you’re gasping.”

“In the best way possible.” Harry swallowed so he wouldn’t drool all over the pillow. “Jesus.” It was just a simple touch, but it was Tristan, and his entire body screamed out for more. He wanted to be touched, taken, possessed, and loved by this man in every way possible. He’d been fascinated by Tristan for months, but he’d thought it was just… well, he wasn’t sure what he’d thought then, but he was positive now that each touch went deep to his soul.

He needed those touches just as badly as he needed air. Tristan ran the tips of his fingers down the backs of his thighs, and Harry buried his face in the pillow, biting it and then giving up. He nearly howled like a wolf when Tristan did it again. Damn, that wasn’t supposed to feel like that. His entire leg tingled and quivered like a dog’s when you petted the right spot. Maybe that was his correct spot, or at least one of them, because Tristan parted his cheeks, and he howled again when lips and tongue pressed to his opening.

“Is that good?’ Tristan asked, and it took Harry a second to realize he was teasing. By then Tristan was licking him again, and Harry had lost the ability to think on any level. Instinct took over, along with moans and throaty groans that filled the room and bounced off the walls. He wondered if there was a deranged animal in the room until he realized it was him. He was making all those sounds, and it was Tristan pulling them from him. Then everything stopped. Harry sucked in air and closed his eyes, waiting for what Tristan had in mind next.

The drawer near his head opened, and the bed shifted with Tristan’s weight. Harry kept his eyes closed, not needing to see to know what was happening. A snick followed, and then slick, cool fingers pressed to his opening. It had been a while, but he was ready for it. “You don’t need to… ahhhh.” Tristan’s fingers sank inside him, twisting slowly. He whined like a puppy for a few seconds, gripped Tristan’s digits with his muscle, and then relaxed. He was so ready; Tristan seemed to sense it. His fingers withdrew, and Harry listened for the tear of the package.

“This thing feels weird.” Tristan giggled.

“You’ll forget all about it. Trust me.”

Tristan shifted on the bed. Harry waited and relaxed his muscles when Tristan pressed forward. The stretch was magnificent. He hissed as Tris entered him and slowly sank in, joining them together. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Oh yeah,” Tristan gasped.

“Just go as slowly as you can.” His head swam as Tristan sank deeper and deeper. He paused a few times and then surged forward. At least that was how it felt. Harry was sure Tristan was going as slow as his body would allow. At this point, Harry knew there was a war going on in Tristan’s brain. One part told him to bury himself and ride like the pony express. The other was telling him to stop and let Harry breathe. He knew which was winning, and Harry had to let it. He wanted the pony express, just in a few seconds, once he’d had a chance to adjust. Harry sighed when Tristan’s hips pressed to his butt, and Tristan once again rested on top of him.

“Damn.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry whispered and clamped his eyes closed, breathing deep. Then slowly, Tristan began to move. Harry had never been a fan of this particular position. It was easiest on both of them, especially for a novice, but it lacked the intimate, face-to-face connection, and he craved that right now. He wanted to see the expression on Tristan’s face and the wonder in his eyes, but all he could do was try to imagine it. “Tris. I want to roll over.”

“Oh.” Everything stopped, and Tristan slipped from inside him. “Did I do….”

Harry turned over rapidly and pulled his legs to his chest, then guided Tristan back inside him, all with a speed and agility that would make a circus contortionist proud. “I want to see you.” And damn, Tristan was a slight man, but not all of him was proportional. His cock was long, and it touched all the right places. When Tristan began to move, Harry cupped Tristan’s cheeks and just held them in his hands. He needed the additional connection.

Tristan picked up the pace, moaning softly. When Harry gripped him, the pitch raised. “God, Harry.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Oh my God about sums it up.” He arched upward and encouraged Tristan to go faster. “That’s it.”

“You want more?”

“Honey, I want all of you. Gentle isn’t necessary. I want….” Harry groaned loud as Tristan took him at his word. He snapped his hips and pounded into him. Sweat beaded on Tristan’s honey skin, and Harry tugged him forward, kissing him hard as Tristan’s cock jumped and throbbed deep. He wanted this to last, let the energy build, but it couldn’t. Tristan was already on overdrive from all the new sensations. Harry remembered what that felt like, and while he had control now, he hadn’t then, and from Tristan’s raspy breathing, he was quickly approaching the pinnacle.

“Harry, I’m gonna….” Tristan gritted his teeth, blowing air out his nose.

“Just go with it.” Harry stroked his own cock hard and fast, pushing himself to catch up with the revving engine that was Tristan, his Tristan. “I love you, and I want to watch you come while you’re inside me.” Tristan’s eyes widened, and his strokes grew ragged. Harry knew the instant Tristan tumbled over the edge. His mouth fell open, and his breath hitched. He gasped and then thrust wildly, deep and hard. Then he stilled, arched his back, shook slightly, and cried out loud and long. “Harry!”

Never had his name sounded more musical or incredibly magical than when Tristan screamed it in the throes of passion. He’d always considered his name rather ordinary, but from now on, his name would sound amazing and almost sacred whenever it crossed Tristan’s lips.