Authors: Avery Cockburn
“It’s not the one I see. The people I know fighting for independence are kind and caring and clever and funny. They’re cool.”
“Yes, you’re the cool kids.” Andrew brandished his wine glass. “Whilst the rest of us, who value stability and certainty, we’re painted as evil or stupid or both.”
Colin’s eyes narrowed. “Stability? Certainty? What country do you live in? What
universe
do you live in?”
“Hey.” Andrew nudged Colin’s leg with his toes. “Could we possibly leave politics out of the bedroom?”
Colin picked up his glass and tapped it against Andrew’s. “Peace. For now.” He took a sip, then shook his head. “All this time I thought your disguises and aliases were to save you from embarrassment, so no one’d know you were slumming with your working-class pals. But it’s actually because you’re in danger, isn’t it?”
“Why are you so surprised people hate me? After all,
you
hate me.”
Colin gave that sexy smirk that ignited Andrew’s skin. “Hm. True.” He gulped the rest of his wine and turned to set the glass on his bedside table.
“Ah, your third tattoo!” Andrew shifted to read the black script running parallel to Colin’s spine. “What is it?”
“Just a song lyric.” Colin faced him again, hiding the ink. “Got it a month ago, after I hurt my knee. Since I wasn’t playing football for a while, I knew the tattoo would have time to heal.”
“Which song?”
“It’s…” Colin shifted his legs beneath the sheet and chewed his lower lip. “It’s ‘Holiday’ by Green Day. An anti-war song.”
“Oh, from
American Idiot
. The musical was brilliant. You’ve seen it, I assume.”
“No, never. But my uncle gave me the original CD ten years ago September, when it first came out.” He paused. “Directly before he went to Iraq.”
Andrew wanted to reach out, but Colin looked on the edge of bolting like a wild colt. “Was that the last you saw of him?”
“Aye. He didnae last long in Fallujah. Suicide bombers. It was two days after that dickhead George Bush got reelected. Talking of American idiots.”
“I’m so sorry. It must be hard.”
Colin looked surprised. “It is. You know, most people say, ‘It must have
been
hard,’ like it’s over. But it’ll never really be over, will it?”
“The wars or your grief?”
“Both, I guess.” Colin ran the edge of the sheet between his thumb and forefingers, as if testing the fabric for some mysterious quality. “Uncle James brought me here to Edinburgh one day that last summer he was alive. We went to the castle.”
Andrew longed to run his fingers through that dark, wavy hair, to stroke the pain away. “May I see your tattoo?”
Colin hesitated, but then rolled to lie on his stomach, hugging a pillow to his chest.
Andrew angled his head to read
I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies.
“Is this in your handwriting?” Colin nodded. “May I touch it?”
Colin nodded again, tightening his arms around the pillow. His breath hitched when Andrew laid a finger on the smooth skin to trace the sentence. The tattoo undulated with the curve of his muscles, making the verse look three-dimensional and alive. Andrew remembered the “Holiday” scene from the musical, how wild and frantic and full of rage it was. The very embodiment of Colin MacDuff.
His heart lurched as he realized a terrible truth—losing his uncle could be at the root of Colin’s longing for an independent Scotland. What better way to get revenge on the Westminster politicians who joined the war that killed someone he loved? Did he think tearing his own country apart would heal this wound?
“It’s beautiful.” Andrew leaned over and kissed the word
beg
. “And I don’t mean just visually.”
Colin sighed at the touch of lips, and sighed again as they moved up to his shoulder. “That feels good.” As Andrew stroked his lower back through the sheet, Colin murmured, “These covers are the softest things I’ve ever felt. When I die I want to be wrapped in them.”
“The very softest thing?” Andrew’s hand descended over the curve of Colin’s arse, cupping one of his firm cheeks. “Are you sure?”
Colin rolled onto his back and examined him. “There might be one thing softer.” He sat up slowly, then touched his finger to Andrew’s bottom lip. “Aye, I think that’s it.” He replaced his finger with his mouth, in a tender kiss that made Andrew tremble inside, a tremble that grew to a quake as he realized this was their first kiss since they’d entered this room tonight.
Craving more, he parted his lips, but Colin kept nibbling and tugging on the bottom one, like it was a feast in itself. Then he moved his mouth to Andrew’s ear. “Are you still taking orders?” he whispered.
Yes yes yes, I’ll do anything you ask, anything.
“Depends what they are.”
“So you’re taking requests, then.” He slid his bare thigh up over Andrew’s.
“Yes.”
“Then I request that you fuck me.” His warm breath grazed Andrew’s earlobe. “Please.”
Andrew’s cock stiffened, and for a moment, he almost considered it. But then he shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t—that’s not my thing.”
“Oh.” Colin lifted his head to come eye to eye with Andrew. “Never?”
“I’m afraid I’m a devout bottom.” He put a hand on Colin’s chest. “And no amount of cajoling will change my mind.”
“I wasn’t cajoling.”
“You were about to cajole. Every man thinks I’ll make an exception for him, that his luscious bum will entice me to the other side, but—”
“It’s completely fine. I mean that.” Colin kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with the lightest of touches. “I only asked because I’m a wee bit sore just now.”
“Me too.”
Another kiss, equally soft but twice as delicious. “But I really want to do it again.”
Andrew sank into the third kiss, curling his tongue around Colin’s and pulling him close. Then he broke off long enough for one breath and two words.
“Me too.”
= = =
This. This is the most amazing moment of my life.
Colin watched Andrew’s face beneath him, searching for signs of discomfort. But he saw only wonder in each parting of lips and flutter of lashes. His own soreness had vanished the moment he’d entered Andrew, encased in another of those magic condoms—which, incidentally, was identical to the first, though it came from a gold wrapper instead of blue.
Colin eased back and forth again. “How’s that?” he whispered, lips grazing Andrew’s.
“Good.” Andrew sighed against his mouth. “So good.” His fingers tightened on Colin’s arse, pulling him all the way inside.
Colin slid both arms up under Andrew’s shoulders, under his soft, thick pillow, cocooning him in a complete embrace.
“Oh yes…” Andrew’s arms and legs wrapped tight around him in return. As Colin began to rock them back and forth as one body, Andrew gave soft, happy moans in time with their rhythm.
Fucking Andrew like this—slowly, carefully, totally naked, their faces inches apart, holding each other close—was night and day to their first time. For a few minutes at least, he and Andrew weren’t trying to best each other.
He pressed his mouth to the top of Andrew’s head, burying his face in his thick hair. “Tell me when you want more.”
“I want this, exactly this.” His thighs glided up over Colin’s waist. “Let’s make it last.”
“Aye.” He could do this all night. It wasn’t the most intense position, with them pressed so close, but the way Andrew felt and sounded was more than enough to keep Colin hard through this hypnotic dance.
Andrew turned his head, his mouth finding Colin’s.
And then they were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, until kissing was all that mattered, and the motions of the rest of their bodies, seeming superfluous now, came to a stop. Then they were pure mouths, pure lips, tongues, and teeth. It was…cosmic.
It also couldn’t last. From what Colin had read in tabloids, Andrew wasn’t a fan of second dates, so they might never see each other again.
Colin yanked his mind back to this bed. It wasn’t the time to think about saying goodbye to Andrew. It wasn’t the time to
think
at all. It was time to fuck.
He planted his hands on the mattress and pushed himself up. As Colin stared down at Andrew, all he wanted was to feast again on those swollen wet lips. He wanted that connection so bad, it sent a dull-knife ache of hunger through his gut.
Andrew stared back, looking as shocked as Colin felt. His fingers slid up Colin’s spine, over the tattoo, tracing the syllables of bitter rage. He’d called it
beautiful
. Did Andrew know that with just a few kind words, he’d injected himself under Colin’s skin, inking his own permanent pattern?
Now Andrew gave a long, slow blink. Down below, his arse gave a firm, quick squeeze of Colin’s cock.
“Och.” Colin closed his eyes, grateful that the spell of inconvenient emotions had been broken. Then he took Andrew’s hands in his own, pressing them to the mattress beside his head, and began to thrust again, lengthening his strokes.
“Yes…” Andrew’s head turned from side to side, his lower lip quivering.
“More?” He pumped harder, not waiting for an answer.
“Yes!” Andrew clutched his hands tight, lifted his chin, and moaned a single word. “Colin…”
Hearing his name slide off that tongue broke something inside him. In one rushing moment, Colin wanted nothing in the world but to never be anywhere else but here, atop Andrew. Inside of Andrew.
With Andrew.
No.
Colin picked up the pace, hoping to fuck these feelings away.
Andrew’s breath hitched. “Wait—slower,” he said. “And let go of me. I want to touch you.” He ran his elegant hands up Colin’s arms, stroking the muscles—stroking the scars—then continued to his shoulders, then down again, over his chest. “You’re so beautiful.”
Colin shook his head, more in awe than in denial.
“Yes, you are,” Andrew said, looking utterly lost in Colin’s eyes.
Perhaps they
could
have more than tonight, Colin let himself think. They sparked and synced so well, in and out of bed. And maybe, just maybe, if Colin could blow Andrew’s mind with
this
time, there could be others.
Colin sat back on his heels, out of Andrew’s reach. He took hold of those long, sinewy thighs and brought them close together, resting Andrew’s feet on his shoulders. He kept up the slower rhythm, but each stroke went pure deep. Andrew’s cock jerked and stiffened. Colin grasped it gently with one hand, using the other to pull Andrew’s left foot to his mouth.
And then he was fucking Andrew, sucking his toes, and stroking his cock all at once. Feeling rather proud of himself, to be honest.
Andrew’s moans turned to laughter again, and this time Colin heard no mockery in that laughter, only pleasure and joy.
Andrew pounded his fist against the bed. “God, you’re so good. I want to—” He sucked in his lips and turned his head.
“You want to what?” Colin tongued the space between Andrew’s first two toes. “You want to what?”
Have me every night? Every day as well?
“I want to show you something.”
Colin stopped. “Sorry?”
Andrew gazed at him, panting. “Stand up on the bed.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just do it. You’ll see.”
Colin withdrew carefully, then moved away, setting Andrew’s legs free before standing up.
“You’ll fancy this.” Andrew tossed his pillow aside so his head was flat on the mattress. Then, with the power of abs alone, he lifted his hips and folded himself in half so his legs extended over his head, feet touching the wall and arse pointing straight up. “How’s that?”
Colin had no words. He stepped forward and peered down at Andrew through his legs. “That’s comfortable for you?”
“For a while, yes. Go on.”
“Erm…okay.” Colin got himself into position, noting with a mix of wonder and dismay how Andrew had outdone him again. He leaned forward so his cock was pointed down at the correct angle. Then he slowly entered Andrew, whose arse was tighter than ever but still supple and receptive. “Christ, that’s amazing.”
“Isn’t it just?” Andrew purred, letting his calves come to rest on Colin’s shoulders.
Colin propped his hands on the wall for stability, then began to rock his hips in smooth, quick thrusts powered by his entire legs, not just his thighs. Beneath them, the mattress held firm, giving no bounce to counteract Colin’s rhythm.
This is fucking incredible.
“Yes, that’s it! Oh yes!” Andrew started stroking his own cock with purpose. “Fuck me, Colin. Make me come.”
“Aye.” He would do anything for this man if he said his name.
Andrew’s cries suddenly pitched up, whimpers turning to moans. At the sound, Colin felt the pressure of his own orgasm begin to build. He couldn’t last much longer like this.
A shower of cum spilled from Andrew’s cock onto his own face, painting his cheeks and lips. It was like something out of one of Colin’s favorite porn videos.
Okay, now
that
is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
The sight sent him over the edge. “I’m gonnae come,” he said.
Andrew opened his eyes. “Wait. Come here.” He swept a finger through the cum on his cheek, then slipped it into his own mouth. “On my face.”
This lad was too good to be true.
Colin pulled out, then tore off the condom as Andrew unfolded himself to lie flat on the bed again. Then he knelt beside Andrew’s head, stroking hard and fast.
As the orgasm swept up from his balls to the base of his cock, Colin had one final coherent thought:
I hope I don’t miss.
He didn’t miss. His cum spurted onto Andrew’s chin, cheeks, and parted lips. Colin clutched the headboard to keep from falling over as his body spasmed with each surge. Showing no mercy, Andrew placed his mouth over the head of Colin’s cock and delicately milked him of the last few drops.
“God…” Colin braced himself with a palm on Andrew’s chest as he fought to catch his breath. His entire body seemed one giant throb.
Andrew used the head of Colin’s cock to scoop up a trail of cum, then licked it off. Colin laughed. This was
exactly
like a porn video now.
“Gonnae no be greedy like that.” He lay next to Andrew and began to lick his face, devouring their joined floods. “We taste good together.”