He was spared having to be alone with Roscoe in the enclosed space when a female voice shouted “Wait!” Roscoe held the door for a tall whirlwind of orange track suit and loose brown hair with arms full of a padded laptop case and plastic grocery bags.
“Thank you, my darling.” Lisa, Roscoe’s oldest and dearest friend, sighed, coming to rest against the back wall of the elevator. “I…” Her dark eyes opened and found Shawn tucked in the corner. “Eeeeee!” Dropping everything she held, Lisa rushed forward to wrap Shawn in her citrus-scented embrace.
“Shawnie!”
He laughed, happily hugging her and tilting his head so she didn’t mash his face with her breasts. “Hey, Lis.”
“Omigod, it’s
so
good to see you.” She pushed him to arms’
length, regarded him with an expression bordering on weeping, then pulled him back into a hug. “I’ve
missed
you!”
16 Mykles ~ Much Ado
He was glad her height hid his suddenly watery eyes from Roscoe. Truth be told, he missed this strangely eclectic woman too. He’d lost touch with a lot of friends when he’d left.
Finally, Lisa released him to stand on his own two feet. “What are you doing here? I know about the play but… Oh wait. Are you two…?” She glanced down at Roscoe, who was kneeling to put scattered groceries back into bags. “Oh God, Ros, honey, don’t do that.”
Despite her fussing, both Shawn and Roscoe knelt to help her with her bags. Shawn helped gladly, needing the distraction to pull himself back together. By the time they reached the third fl oor, he had himself under control, and they were all getting to their feet with various bags in hand.
“Stop that, both of you,” she chided, taking bags from them.
“Can we help you with these?” Shawn asked.
“No!” She glanced from him to where Roscoe stood behind him and back. “You two… Well, whatever.” She leaned over to give Shawn a peck on the cheek. “Don’t you be a stranger, missy.
I don’t have
any
one to do my makeup anymore.” He laughed with her, watching her take her bags down the hall as the elevator doors closed.
Shit.
His heart squeezed.
A hand on his shoulder distracted him, turning him. Meekly, he stumbled up against the wall, letting Roscoe’s fi ngers under his chin tilt his face up. The kiss was sweet and undemanding. The hands that bracketed his face were warm. Roscoe pulled back just as the elevator doors reopened. Black eyes shone behind glasses.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
Shawn smiled, allowing the rush of pleasure to soothe him as Roscoe had intended. “You’ve resorted to fl attery?”
“No.” Roscoe’s hand slid down his arm to twine fi ngers with his. “Just fact.”
Shawn chuckled, allowing Roscoe to pull him from the lift.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
ENCORE! ENCORE!
17
The loft hadn’t changed. No, not entirely true. It was neater.
It lacked the clutter and chaos Shawn had added when he lived there. They’d discovered early on that Shawn didn’t have the same habit for putting things in their proper place as did the older man. Roscoe turned on the track lighting to softly illuminate the dark wood walls with green painted accents adorned with Roscoe’s framed vintage Broadway theater posters. Enough of the hardwood fl oors were revealed to prove that there was very little furniture in the loft. A delicate spiral staircase to the left led to the bedroom that always seemed like more of an open platform overlooking the rest of the apartment. There was a tiny bathroom up there that was basically a shower stall, sink and toilet, with the main bathroom and the closet space downstairs.
The kitchen appliances shone steel gray behind the island that separated the space from the rest of the living area.
Shawn was glad his back was to Roscoe when the wistful smile took his face.
Home.
He’d schooled his expression by the time Roscoe pressed against his back, walking him further into the apartment. Gladly, he let his head fall back against the other man’s shoulder, arching his neck to expose the column for Roscoe’s lips. He could tell just from the angle of Roscoe’s head that his glasses had already found their way to a nearby table, safely out of the way. Nimble fi ngers pulled his backpack from his fi ngers, letting it fall to the fl oor, as Roscoe herded him toward the staircase.
“God, Finn.” Roscoe’s breath rasped in his ear. Shawn knew that sound. It was the same he used to get when he’d been out of town for a week. The one that said they needed to be naked
now
.
Shawn decided that he couldn’t agree more. He broke forward and raced up the stairs as fast as he could, Roscoe at his heels.
The bed above was a low platform deal but the mattress was amazingly plush and comfortable. Here was the only place in the loft where Roscoe allowed disarray, not a fan of making beds.
The black and gold geometric design of the comforter was barely
18 Mykles ~ Much Ado
discernible, the deep gold sheets rumpled and inviting in the dim light refl ected from below.
Shawn turned and laughed when Roscoe crowded him toward the bed. So familiar. He caught hold of the bigger man’s shoulders to steady himself as he was led backward. Hands at his chest unbuttoned his shirt and he was delighted to fi nd Roscoe’s shirt already open. Eagerly, he shoved the shirt over wide shoulders, exposing smooth skin that begged to be tasted. So he did. Roscoe groaned near his ear as he latched onto a warm patch of muscle at the bend of neck and shoulder. Palms skated around his sides underneath his shirt, spreading over his back, pulling him closer.
He slid his hands up into the abundance of silky curls at the back of Roscoe’s head, loosening the ponytail, all the while refusing to relinquish his patch of skin. Biting, knowing it would only goad Roscoe.
“Fuck.” Roscoe palmed Shawn’s ass, lifting him enough to bring their cocks into alignment.
Shawn groaned as the new position forced his mouth from Roscoe’s neck. Blindly, he turned into a waiting kiss. He held on, trusting Roscoe completely as the larger man lowered them to the mattress. They had never been bad at this. During sex, they were always in sync. Shawn clung, aching to feel every microsecond of his time with this man, knowing now that other men could be fun but they never, ever matched Roscoe’s intensity. Or was it their shared intensity? He neither knew, nor cared at that moment.
Lips fused, they did their best to shed clothing. By the time they managed to get naked, Shawn was on top. Taking advantage of this position, he slowly crawled down Roscoe’s body, kissing and nipping various choice bits of skin on his way down that toned torso. Ah, bless the gay man’s obsession with working out.
Roscoe didn’t overdo it, but he defi nitely paid attention. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Finally, Shawn reached his prize, that thick, meaty shaft that had always given him such pleasure.
Disregarding Roscoe’s impatient groan and batting aside the hand in his hair that urged him to get to the heart of the matter sooner, Shawn took his time nuzzling and kissing at the bend of ENCORE! ENCORE!
19
thigh to groin, getting dizzy on the very special scent of Roscoe centered right there.
“Finn…”
He wrapped his fi ngers around Roscoe’s shaft and stroked, just to keep the other man happy while he set to laving and sucking at tender, furred balls. Roscoe’s hips rolled into him, his knees drawing up. Shawn took the hint and dipped his tongue down to tease Roscoe’s perineum. Roscoe was a top, but he was not adverse to any kind of attention to his groin area, even going so far as to bottom occasionally. At least, he had for Shawn, which the younger man remembered as mind-blowing. But that’s not what he wanted tonight. Tonight, Roscoe was going to fuck him blind. Right after Shawn got his fi ll of cock. Deciding to put that plan in motion, Shawn licked his way up Roscoe’s dick until he could wrap his lips around the tip, and lash the underside with his tongue in a way he knew Roscoe loved. True to form, Roscoe writhed and the fi ngers were back in Shawn’s hair, gently guiding this time. This time, Shawn let him. Saliva coated the hot, velvet skin while his lips and tongue slid up and down.
“Fuck, baby.”
Ah!
Baby
was an excellent sign. Used only at the most intimate of times. It was a signal that Roscoe was ready to take over. Shawn glanced up to fi nd black eyes trained on him, watching underneath heavy eyelids.
Beautiful
. He smiled around his mouthful.
By that, Roscoe knew it was time. Using his grip on Shawn’s hair, he pulled the smaller man up to his knees. They met for an intense, sloppy kiss, their cocks slapping together between them.
“On your knees,” Roscoe rasped, releasing him.
Shawn did as instructed, crawling up to the middle of the bed.
The older man crawled over to the nightstand for the bottle of lube. And a condom. Shawn banished his frown before Roscoe could see it, stuffi ng pillows underneath his head and shoulders for good measure. They’d not used condoms together since Shawn moved to New York. Roscoe pulling one out now burst Shawn’s bubble, reminding him that tonight was just tonight and tomorrow…
20 Mykles ~ Much Ado
He gladly let such thoughts fl y from his head when Roscoe arrived behind him, and knowing hands kneaded the meat of his ass. He
would
enjoy tonight. Tomorrow be damned!
Roscoe’s tongue traced the upper curves of Shawn’s ass while he palmed each globe, using his thumbs to spread Shawn open.
Shawn whimpered, burying his face in the pillows. He knew what was coming and the anticipation alone drove him wild. Roscoe chuckled as his wet tongue eased down to Shawn’s greedy hole.
Roscoe teased and taunted, then plunged inside. Shawn cried out, clutching at the mattress beneath him as exquisite pearls of pleasure spilled up his spine.
Then Roscoe was kneeling. Plastic crackled. Shawn reached down to grip his own cock while Roscoe put on the condom. He nearly came when the tip of Roscoe’s cock nudged at him.
“Slow or fast?”
Shawn swallowed, turning his head from the pillows. “Slow.” He wanted fast and hard, but it’d been long enough since he’d had sex that it would probably hurt.
Taking him at his word, Roscoe gripped his hips and pressed in gradually. “God. Finn. Baby.” Once he was halfway in, Roscoe paused. One hand slid down Shawn’s spine to grip his neck.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” There was a little bite, but nothing that wouldn’t soon go away. Shawn pushed back, stroking his own cock as he did.
“More.”
Pressing Shawn’s neck to the mattress, Roscoe leaned in, letting his weight push more of that thick, delicious cock into Shawn’s body. Shawn bit his lip and closed his eyes, more than willing to let sensation and Roscoe take over.
When groin met ass, Roscoe’s longer torso allowed him to press the entire length of Shawn’s back with his chest. “Finn, you feel so. Fucking. Good.”
Shawn moaned, volume increasing when Roscoe rocked his hips back, letting his cock drag its way out.
ENCORE! ENCORE!
21
Roscoe propped his elbows on either side of Shawn’s chest.
He lapped at the sweat that coated the back of Shawn’s neck.
“Missed you,” he murmured, so low that Shawn wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it.
Biting back the urge to give the words back, Shawn moaned.
“Fuck me blind, damn it. Need it.”
God
, did he need it.
Roscoe made no comment, just obeyed. His weight pinned Shawn to the mattress, and strong thighs forced Shawn’s legs wider. Roscoe drew up his knees, giving himself leverage to piston his hips and drive that glorious cock as far into Shawn’s body as it would go. The whole thing nearly brought tears of joy to Shawn’s tightly closed eyes as he cried out into the pillows mashed beneath him. Roscoe held his shoulders, keeping him in place, completely enveloping him in heat. “Yeah, you’re close,” he rumbled in Shawn’s ear. “Come for me, baby. Squeeze me tight. Wring me dry.”
Shawn was helpless to do anything but. Roscoe knew him too well. Without any more than the friction of the bedding and his sweaty belly on his cock, he exploded, his entire body shaking as he spilled and screamed. Roscoe growled, fucking him through it, knowing the friction did it for him. Shawn shuddered to a whimpering, wet mess as Roscoe pounded him, now chasing his own release. It came on a shout and full body shake.
They collapsed in a heap, Roscoe pulling them to their sides, Shawn lay limp and sated, enjoying the way Roscoe nuzzled the back of his neck as he held him close. But soon enough he found himself staring wide-eyed at the pillows, and the railing overlooking the rest of the loft beyond. What was he doing here?
Despite Roscoe’s half-hearted protest, he pulled away and levered himself off the low bed. Without glancing toward his lover, he padded into the bathroom to clean up. Splashing his face with cold water and staring at his refl ection didn’t answer his question.
What are you doing here?
Roscoe was sitting up in the middle of the mattress when he came back. The wet spot in the bedding, the smear of sweat and lube at his groin and lower belly had been cleaned up with
22 Mykles ~ Much Ado
a towel—Roscoe usually kept one conveniently close—and the condom had been disposed of. Roscoe stared up at him.
Waiting.
“I’m going home.”
“Don’t.”
Shawn bent to pick up his underwear and pants. “This didn’t change anything.”
“I didn’t say it did. Still doesn’t mean you have to go.” He scooted toward the foot of the bed. “Stay. I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”
The bend of his head as he stepped away from the bed hid his smile. Roscoe was a pretty good cook anyway, but he excelled at breakfast. Having it after a particularly good night of sex had been one of their
things
. “Can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“Finn.”
When Shawn pulled on his jeans and wouldn’t look at him, Roscoe pushed himself off the bed. Shawn tried to avoid him but Roscoe cornered him against the railing and cupped his face, forcing him to look up. The open longing he saw in Roscoe’s eyes nearly broke his resolve. “Stay. Please? I miss you.” Shawn clutched the railing supporting his back as Roscoe bent in for a soft, almost chaste kiss. “Coe,” he sighed, using the short version of Roscoe’s name unintentionally.