Page 48 of Finding Michael

“You do?” Michael left the sofa and picked up the lube and a condom as he rounded the piece of furniture. He tore open the foil wrapper, then sheathed himself in the rubber.

The condom snapped and Tristan groaned. He grabbed the back of the couch and widened his stance. “Yes. Do it. I want you in me.” His balls ached. He mashed his cock into the back of the sofa and flexed his asshole. He tensed when he heard the snick of the lube cap. The chill on his ass and down over his hole soothed him.

Michael dug his fingers into Tristan’s hip. “Ready?” The blunt head of his dick rubbed against Tristan’s asshole.

“Never more ready.” He backed up, trying to impale himself on Michael’s erection. Tristan bowed his head and gripped the couch. Being together seemed destined and he didn’t want the pairing to end.

“You are. Breathe for me.” Michael breached the tight ring of muscle and pushed into Tristan.

He exhaled. The pain and stretching excited him. He laughed, to hide his momentary discomfort. How could he breathe or relax with a hot guy behind him? Easy. He couldn’t.

Michael gripped Tristan’s hips tight. Tristan didn’t mind. He liked how Michael seemed to blossom when given the chance to take control. Michael came alive and excelled.

Tristan moaned. He wanted a partner—an equal. He wanted Michael for more than a few weekends or a couple of months. He clunked into Michael. “Please? Come. I need to…” His voice broke. “Uh…” He couldn’t think or speak. Michael consumed him in every sexy, fantastic way.

“Yes.” Michael kissed Tristan’s shoulder. His warm breath and wet mouth excited Tristan. “Do it.”

Tristan braced himself on his left hand and used his right to stroke his dick. He pulled and tugged, getting close to orgasm. He wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck,” Michael said. His thrusts turned feral and rough. “Tristan.”

Tristan met each push until he and Michael were in perfect rhythm. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the air. Perspiration tingled on Tristan’s upper lip and a droplet slid down into the corner of his mouth. The salt exploded on his tongue. He writhed. Christ, he swore he felt Michael in his soul.

“Shit.” Between the pressure from the back of the couch on his cock, his hand on himself and Michael in his ass, Tristan’s resistance shattered. Cum shot down the back of the sofa.

“Fuck me.” Michael rammed hard into him. His dick throbbed and he added a few more thrusts before he stilled. He wrapped both arms around Tristan, holding him close. “You scrambled my brain.”

“Mine too.” Tristan collapsed on the couch and laughed. They’d made a mess. Somehow, he didn’t care. He wanted memories made in each room of the house. He twisted enough to look at Michael. “I’ll never get enough.”

“I doubt I will, either.” Michael laughed with him, then kissed Tristan’s neck. “We’re so sloppy. I’ll help you clean it up.”

“After we shower.” He clasped Michael’s hand. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Me either.” Michael pulled out of Tristan and ditched the condom. He swatted Tristan’s ass. “We’d better get going, though, or you’ll have a stain.”

Tristan shrugged. He managed to stand and wandered upstairs to the bathroom. He turned on the water and nudged Michael into the shower first. Instead of pushing his way forward and taking charge, Tristan lingered in the back of the stall and watched Michael. The man didn’t understand just how sexy he was, or how pretty. All sinewy muscle and taut pale skin, Michael could’ve been a model. He had a boy-next-door look that would have everyone drooling to be with him.

“Are you going to stand there or what?” Michael blushed from his hairline to his chest. “What?”

“I’m watching you.” Tristan took the soapy washcloth from Michael. “You’re captivating.”

Michael didn’t say anything. His blush deepened.

Tristan kissed Michael under the hot spray, then resumed cleaning himself off. He and Michael reminded him of an old married couple. Comfortable with each other, but still learning.

“What are you going to do today?” Michael stepped out of the shower. “Writing? Sorting?”

Tristan rinsed, then turned the water off and opened the curtain. “I thought I’d deal with the clothes in my uncle’s closet and dresser first, then figure out what to do with what I don’t want.” He dried off. “Got any ideas where I can donate used clothes?”

“There’s a second-hand store in town and the consignment one. You’d be better off going to the second-hand one because I don’t see you wanting to price a bunch of clothes.” Michael shrugged. “My stomach rumbled while we were in the shower, which reminded me…we should eat, too.”

“We don’t have anything else food-wise.” Tristan wrapped the thick bath towel around his hips. “We should run to the store.”

“Could order in.” Michael dried himself. His hair stood on end again. “The diner delivers. Or I can run into town.”

“Need a break from me already?” Tristan dropped his towel, then snagged Michael in his arms.

“No.” Michael frowned. “I thought it might be faster since I know my way around town.”

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