Don't Read in the Closet volume one (100 page)

He was hard,
his prick still arching up after his shower, and although Trevor hadn't said
Sam couldn't do anything to satisfy himself, Trevor couldn't help be a little
pleased that he hadn't--that he was silently saying he wanted permission first.

But Trevor just
finished brushing and spit, rinsing the brush and finally looking to where Sam
stood on the rug with the towel clenched in his hands. He let his eyes linger
as they moved down the body, or at least the parts that weren't covered by the
towel then nodded. "Brush your teeth, then get in my bed, I'll be in
shortly."

After giving
his order, he left the bathroom and went into the kitchen to get a glass of
water--to give Sam time to get into the bedroom first, but mostly to gather his
thoughts, most of which were overwhelmed by the image of Sam's body dripping
wet. He finished his water, washed the glass then headed to the bedroom.

He opened the
door to find Sam on the bed, his ass in the air and his thighs spread. The
moonlight trickling through the window made his pale skin glow as he waited,
presented to the world. It was a beautiful sight and it both aroused him and
disgusted him. He wanted to sink into that waiting ass and ride it hard; he had
no doubt Sam would be all for it. But part of him couldn't help but question
Sam's motives. He was turned on, yes, but Trevor couldn't help thinking he was
using appeasement tactics. Plus, he didn't want to fuck him, even with a
condom, when Sam had admitted to going bare not long before.

So instead of
fucking him hard like they both wanted, Trevor grabbed Sam by the waist and
dropped him onto the mattress. He yelped in surprise, but Trevor didn't give
him a chance to react; he lay down next to him, one arm wrapping around his
waist and securing him against Trevor's body so they spooned. And when Sam
started rubbing his bare ass against Trevor's groin, Trevor ignored the tent in
his pajama bottoms and tightened his hold, growling,
"
Don't
move."

Sam froze, but
a squeeze from one of Trevor’s arms and he relaxed, sinking his body back
against Trevor's.

"Go to
sleep."

"But--"

"Sleep."

Sam shut up.
Whether he slept or not, Trevor didn't know; he succumbed to the darkness a
little while later.

****

Trevor woke to
a loud crash, his arm instinctively grabbing for Sam and finding nothing but
sheets. Another crash hustled him from bed and he stumbled, rubbing the sleep
from his eyes, into the kitchen where the noise was originating. There he found
several plates--or
what were once plates--shattered across
the floor, joined by a mug, two glasses, and all the silverware that had been
in the drain rack with them
. In the center of it all stood Sam in
nothing but jeans, wielding a frying pan like a weapon and using it as a
baseball bat as far as Trevor could tell.

"Sam? What
are you doing?"

He looked up,
his dark eyes wild with fear and anger. He adjusted his hold on the frying pan
and hunched his shoulders but didn't answer.

"Sam, put
the pan down."

If he hadn't
screamed, Trevor wouldn't have had the warning to duck as the frying pan flew
over his head. Sam didn't give him a chance to stand, just ran across the floor
and tackled him. Or tried to. The martial arts knowledge that he'd used to
scare away Sam's attacker wasn't fabricated, and as Sam lunged, Trevor stepped
to the side, grabbing him around the neck with his arm and dropping him to a
piece of floor that was hopefully clear of debris. Before Sam could react,
Trevor rolled him onto his stomach and wrenched his arms behind his back,
pulling the wrists high and holding them tight.

And while he
thought Sam would fight, he wasn't surprised as the strain in the muscles
vanished and the body beneath him sagged. He kept his hold tight, remembering
the sudden changes from the night before and the look in Sam's eyes a minute
ago. "Sam?"

A shiver passed
through the body he straddled, and then a hiccup as Sam buried his forehead
against the floor. "Get...get off me." He hiccupped again and Trevor
leaned over so he could see Sam's face and the tears trickling onto the
linoleum.

"Am I
hurting you?"

"No!"
he shouted, and Trevor didn't think he'd ever heard anyone be so upset at that.

"Do you
want me to hurt you?"

He started
thrashing again, but Trevor just tightened his hands and leaned his weight
forward to push pressure on his wrists and chest. Sam's scream of frustration
came out in a single shout, but he didn't stop fighting. "Why would I want
to be hurt?" Trevor didn't
answer,
just let Sam
exhaust himself as he struggled. "I don't! I didn't! I didn't want to be
hurt. I--fuck," he sobbed the last word as his body relaxed again. This
time Trevor released him, sliding down to sit beside him and
pull
him into his arms. Sam went easily, crawling into his lap and wrapping his legs
around his waist as he buried his face against Trevor's neck to hide the tears.

While Sam cried
himself out, Trevor held him, stroking his back until the hot breath on his
neck became kisses. He gently pushed Sam away to check on him and make sure he
hadn't hurt himself on the shards of glass and ceramic, but before he could,
Sam was jerking away and scrambling to his feet--for all of two seconds before
he dropped like a rock to the ground with a shout.

"Freeze."

Sam
obeyed,
his head hanging between his stiff arms from his
position on his hands and knees. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

He looked up,
terrified and confused and Trevor shook his head. "Why don't we work off
the assumption that we've only known each other a week and we may not be
understanding
everything?"

Sam swallowed
and nodded.

"Good. Now
stay like
that, I think your foot is bleeding."
He stroked Sam's back as he circled around him and crouched by his feet. Both
had small scratches, but one had a large gash, the sliver of glass still
embedded and who-knows how deep. A deep breath to steady himself and he stood,
quickly looking Sam in the eyes. "Stay. I'm going to get some first aid
supplies, okay?"

Another nod and
his body relaxed a fraction. He licked his lips, watching Trevor's face.
"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Getting
hurt."

Crouching so he
was eye level, he cupped Sam's cheek and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Okay. Now let's see what we can do to fix it. Stay."

Sam nodded and
Trevor stood, leaving him there while he went to the bathroom to dig out a
first aid kit, a washcloth and a bucket of water. When he returned, Sam was
still kneeling, his dark eyes following Trevor's every movement. He sat by
Sam's feet, checking the first for pieces of glass before washing it with warm
water and then peroxide. Sam hissed, but didn't pull his foot away, letting
Trevor apply gauze and wrap it before tending to the second foot. This one
required the tweezers, but aside from a sharp intake of breath, Sam remained
motionless.

When the last
bandage was applied and Trevor set the foot down, Sam went to move.
"Freeze." He obeyed. "Don't move until I say so."

Sam stared,
searching, and Trevor crouched down to kiss him again. "Don't move."
Another small nod and Trevor fetched the broom and dust pan, carefully sweeping
the entire kitchen and around Sam before using a wet paper towel to catch all
the smaller slivers and a few drops of blood. When he was finished and
everything was put away, he sat against the kitchen wall. "Come here."

Crawling over,
Sam practically collapsed into his lap when he got there, burying his head
against Trevor's stomach. He wasn't tense or crying, and Trevor ran his fingers
through the mop of dark hair, letting his thumbs rub at Sam's temples.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

The answer was
muffled, but Trevor was pretty sure he heard, "I'm sorry." It wasn't
much of an answer; actually, it wasn't an answer at all. "Can you
stand?" He got a nod in response. "Stand up."

Sam obeyed,
somewhat mechanically, and Trevor followed suit, grabbing him and pulling him
against his chest, hard and forcefully. Sam didn't tense, didn't fight,
just
fell into it, his arms clinging around Trevor's waist.
"Tell me what you want, Sam."

His answer was
muffled once again, until Trevor took his chin in hand and forced him to look
up and repeat it. "I wanted you to fuck me."

"When?"

This smile was
different than those plastered facades he'd given before. "Every night
this week."

Trevor trailed
his thumb along Sam's jawbone as his hand slid back to grip his neck, holding
him still as he leaned down and took his mouth. The whimper that escaped Sam
was pure pleasure, even as Trevor bit his lower lip before plunging his tongue
in. Sam melted against him, his hands clawing on Trevor's back before finding a
firm grip on his ass, thrusting their hips together and provoking a growl from
Trevor. The kid was hard against his thigh, hard and needy as Trevor sucked his
tongue into his mouth and squeezed tightly on the back of his neck. Sam seemed
ready to go right there, one hand already releasing his ass to push into his
pajama bottoms. But lube, condoms, and a bed weren't that far away.

Using his hold
on Sam's neck, he pulled him back, squeezing tightly to vanquish the tension
that returned. "Bedroom, now."

Sam tried to
move, but Trevor kept his grip, and after two attempts, he looked up curiously.

"If it's
too much, you tell me to stop and I'll stop." He squeezed again, pulling a
happy gasp from Sam. "Understood?"

"Yes."
He nodded as much as he could,
licking
his lips and
staring straight into Trevor's piercing gaze. "Please."

Trevor yanked
him forward, kissing him fiercely and forcing him to give in to the embrace of
lips and tongues. His hand pinched painfully on Sam's neck, driving a moan into
his mouth as Sam humped against him. His own cock ached with the sudden need to
claim and protect the young man in his arms and he jerked Sam away once more,
making sure they were still both seeing each other through the haze of lust.
"What do you say?"

"Please,"
Sam groaned and Trevor chuckled, pressing his forehead against his.

"I meant
if you need me to stop."

"Stop.
I'll tell you to stop. Just...please."

"Good."

Sam sighed when
Trevor released his neck and slid one hand down his back to swat a sharp smack
on his clothed ass.

"On the
bed, ass in the air. Naked," he added with a grin, figuring that was a
no-brainer, but not assuming anything just yet. Sam limped off to obey,
favoring his left leg that had the larger gash--and had been sprained. Bad
luck, he thought, watching Sam go. Or very good luck.

He followed
shortly after, leaving on his bottoms as he appreciated the gift in his bed.
Like Christmas in July. He smiled, one hand rubbing himself through his pants
as the other reached out to stroke the pale curve of cheek. Sam moaned,
pressing back into the touch as it slid down the curve and then up his crack,
Trevor's pinky finger brushing his sack. The skin was smooth and warm, although
goosebumps were forming, chilled by the cold air rushing from the AC. Keeping
one hand on his butt, Trevor climbed onto the bed, bending over to kiss the
arch of lower back, letting his warm breath tickle the skin. Sam squirmed, his
inhale hitched as the fingers stroked down the crevice and circled his opening.

"Tease."

Trevor let his
hand fall away, his mouth moving against Sam's back as he threatened, "I
can stop if you'd like."

"I didn't
say stop."

"Good."
He bit hard and Sam gasped, his back arching away from the split-second of
pain, before Trevor was licking and kissing and the back relaxed with a groan.
"Then I'll do whatever I want."

Sam tensed
beneath him, muscles quivering and hands fisting the sheets. Trevor slid a hand
up his back in long, soothing strokes. "Sam?"

He exhaled all
at once then dragged in another breath, the tension shivering from his muscles
to relax to Trevor’s administrations. "It's fine."

It didn't seem
'fine,' but Trevor didn't push, just made note of it in any future
instances--assuming there would be. He didn't dwell on it, just moved so he was
behind Sam, his mouth following the same curve his fingers had until his mouth
was kissing the cheeks on either side of his opening. He was clean--almost
fresh smelling--and smoothly shaven from his balls to his bum, not even the
beginnings of prickles. Rubbing his smile against one side, he used his hand to
part the cheeks farther before he licked along the crack and worked his tongue
into the tight hole.