Consummation

Michael seemed to have very little in the way of clothes in his closet. Of course, since his life now consisted of fixing broken appliances, volunteering at a local shelter, and relaxing on the porch, it wasn't as if he needed nice suits and the like. Still. Alexander had a few shirts he'd wanted to hang up and when he opened the closet to do so, he'd found it jam packed with books and puzzle boxes.

"Michael?" he called as he descended the stairs into the store.

Michael at the workbench, a radio in pieces in front of him. Dirt was smudged on his cheeks. Alexander didn't understand how a man as fastidious as Michael could keep his shop in such a state of disrepair.

"Hey." Michael gave him a slow smile.

He crossed the room. Placed his hands on the table. Leaned over Michael.

Michael tilted his head back. Their mouths came together. When they kissed, it was all that Alexander could do to keep from sweeping the junk off the worktable and taking Michael right there.

Of course, the baby oil and the lube were upstairs now, so it'd be a little counterproductive.

"Hey," Michael said again. He kissed Alexander's chin and sat back. "Did you need something?"

It took him a moment before his brain kicked back into gear. In many ways, he felt sharper when he was around Michael. He knew that he needed to be at the top of his game to interact with this man. And, yet, Michael also had the ability of turning him into pure hormones.

"Um, yes. I was wondering if I could take a few of your things out of the closet. Put some clothes in there." He shrugged. "Maybe I can stick some of the puzzles under the bed?"

Color bloomed on Michael's cheeks. "There's no room. There's more books and puzzles there."

"Ah."

His blush deepened. "There's not a lot to do around here."

"I understand."

Michael glanced over to his right, eyes landing on a door. Then he shook his head. "There are a couple rooms down here, but I've got them set up for LJ and Lincoln when the stay. Although, Lincoln usually sleeps upstairs with me."

"He does?"

Michael nodded, eyes far away. "I've got a cot. He usually sleeps on it, although sometimes he lets me give him the bed. But he likes to be up there so we can talk. Plus, that way, LJ has more time alone. But, uh, I figured Lincoln was going to be needing his room this time." He looked at Alexander and smiled.

"I think it might get a little crowded upstairs. And I would had for Lincoln to allow you to give him the bed." He smiled and added, "Don't look forward to sharing a bed with him."

He grinned. "I wouldn't. He kicks. And steals all the pillows."

"Scoundrel to the core."

"Totally." Michael stood and stretched. "Well. I've lived here almost two years now. I guess it's about time to build a bookcase or something. Shelves. That should give us some room. At least until we move."

"We're moving?"

He nodded. "I had a friend once who moved into a one bedroom with his girlfriend. They broke up in less than six months. It was just way too small. This place is even smaller, one room that serves as bedroom and living room. Even if you count down here, it's still small. And not very comfortable."

"Comfortable enough for your nephew."

Michael nodded. "We don't have to move. We could stay here. I'm just trying to think of what'll be best." His cheeks colored. "For us."

Alexander slipped his arms around Michael's waist and kissed him on the forehead. The corner of his mouth. His bottom lip. The other corner. "I won't argue. And I'm fine with moving if that's what you want."

Michael leaned into him. Kissed him properly. Intently, as if he'd been enflamed by the teasing kisses from before. "I've got land," Michael said. "Bought it a year or so ago. Almost right on the beach. I've got permits and stuff to build, just haven't started yet. Haven't even finished designs for the house." He kissed Alexander on the neck. Nuzzled against him, mouth open, lightly licking. "Now I have incentive."

"Sounds good," Alexander replied, voice strained. His blood pounded, flooded south. Shut down his brain.

"Yeah." Michael's hands were on his hips, clutching tightly. His mouth was all over, kissing Alexander's neck, under his jaw, his mouth, the corners of his eyes. "Do you... do you want to start?"

"Start?" It seemed they'd already started.

"Get boards and stuff together. Build shelves. Finish unpacking." He tugged Alexander's shirt up. Slipped his hand underneath, rubbing along his spine.

The shelves. Oh. "I..." No, he really didn't. "Right now?"

Lips curved into a smile against Alexander's neck. "Unless you can think of something better to do."

He pressed his lips to Michael's temple. "I think I can." He slid his hands down Michael's back. Cupped his bottom. Squeezed lightly.

He loved how responsive Michael was. Every little touch. Every brush of skin had Michael shivering. Gasping. Arching into the touch, begging for more.

Michael took Alexander's earlobe into his mouth. Sucked on it gently, teeth carefully teasing it. Released it and whispered, "Let me close the store."

Alexander was reluctant to let Michael go. His mercurial sex drive and busy brain made it dangerous to let Michael on his own for a moment. Who knew what excuses and worries he'd think of in the time it took to close the store and return to Alexander's arms?

But then Michael wiggled of Alexander's grasp. He walked across the dusty floor to the door. Turned the lock. Flipped the sign. All but ran back. "Let's go," he said, fingers threading through Alexander's belt loops.

Alexander put his hands on Michael's hips and turned him around. Backed him through the stored. Brought his mouth to Michael's and kissed him. Their teeth bumped. Scraped. Tongues pushed. Michael's hands bunched in Alexander's shirt. Made small, needy noises every time there lips came apart. Body tight with excitement as they stumbled through the clutter, alternately leading and being led by one another.

There was a moment of confusion when Michael's heels hit the stairs. He almost fell backwards. He was held up only by Alexander's hands and his own grip. Tried to take a step up, but couldn't figure out how to kiss Alexander and back up at the same time.

Was much too thin. Alexander wasn't exactly a strapping man himself, yet he hoisted Michael high enough to heave him halfway up the stairs. Motive, he knew, gave strength, but his fox definitely needed to eat more than just enough to keep him alive.

Halfway up and Michael slipped from his unsteady grasp. Fell. Pulled Alexander down so they were sprawled on the stairs. Michael's legs spread out, one foot flat on a stair, the other pressed to the wall. Alexander between his legs. Both laughing.

"I've heard the course of true love never did run smoothly, but this is ridiculous," Alexander said. He rested his head on Michael's chest.

"Maybe we're doing something wrong," Michael replied. He ran his hands over Alexander's head, down his back.

He lifted his head. "Maybe if we looked where we were going?"

Michael met his eyes. They were on fire. "Maybe."

They lay there like that for a tense moment. Physically uncomfortable both, but frozen.

Then Alexander pulled himself up Michael's body. Michael's arms came around his neck, pulling. And they were kissing again, all teeth and tongues. Taste of sour lemons from the lemonade they'd had at lunch. The smell of dust and oil and aftershave and sweat. And Michael's shirt was off. His bare feet sliding up the inside of Alexander's leg. Hands tugged Alexander's shirt. Teeth bit gently under his jaw. Tongue soothing the sting.

His blood burned. Groin ached. More unpleasant, the arch of Alexander's foot cramped. His thighs trembled, trying to keep purchase on the stairs. He bent his knee to rest on. Pain shot through is body.

"I think," he whispered, placing open-mouthed kisses over Michael's collarbone, "that I might be a little too old to do this here."

Michael snorted and wrestled Alexander's shirt over his head. He tossed it away. "I'm the one with the stair pressing into my spine."

Alexander hooked his arm under Michael's leg and pushed it to his chest. "But you're young and bendable." He pushed until Michael's thigh was almost flush with his chest--amazingly flexible, really, good for both of them--and turned his head to kiss one beautifully shaped ankle. "You really don't like shoes, do you?"

"I really don't."

He ran his thumb up the bottom of Michael's foot. Kissed his ankle again. "Do I need to carry you to bed, Michael?"

Michael licked his lips. Smiled. Shook his head. "I guess we'll have to move to a more comfortable location." He pushed against Alexander.

"You have a thing about stairs?" he asked, rising. He stretched his back, popping it. Reached down to pull Michael to his feet.

Michael backed him against the wall. "It's not stairs I have a thing for," he said. "It's you." He popped the button of Alexander's jeans opened. Slid the zipper down. Slipped his hand inside.

"Michael," Alexander whispered raggedly. His head thumped against the wall. His fingers tingled. Vision swum.

He grabbed Michael by the arms. Pushed him away. Turned him around. Marched him up the stairs and into the bedroom as quickly as he could without stumbling.

Michael's breathless laughter surrounded them. He leaned back against Alexander's hands. Pretended to fight the forward motion. Alexander noticed, though, as they got closer to the bed, the pressure eased. Michael slowed. His laughter faded, grew more breathless.

He stopped when his knees brushed the bed. Turned. Met Alexander's eyes. He wrapped his hands around Alexander's wrists and tugged. Sat on the bed. Pushed himself back towards the head of the bed, still holding onto Alexander.

Alexander climbed onto the bed. Straddled Michael's body. He never lost eye contact as he crawled further up Michael. Michael lay back, resting on plumped pillows, looking at Alexander, all big eyes and flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.

"Can we use the condoms?" he asked, laughter gone now. He glanced at the nightstand, where Alexander had unpacked the supplies he'd brought with him. "I know we're both clean, and I know it's safe. But, uh. It's always been drilled in my head to be safe. And it's tidier and..."

"Of course we can," Alexander interrupted. He kissed Michael. Hunger abated, replaced by tenderness. "Probably better, anyway."

"It's okay if you'd rather not," Michael said, kissing back. His hands fell to his waist and he wiggled out of his jeans. "I mean, I know it's better if... that it feels better without them."

"We're using the condoms," Alexander said with finality. He shucked his own jeans, tossing them onto the floor. His underwear followed, along with Michael's.

Michael smiled, rolled onto his side. Opened the drawer and pulled the tube of lubricant and box of condoms out. When he rolled back, he said, "I haven't ever... done this."

Alexander traced Michael's eyebrows. "Any of it?"

"No. The guys I was with... it was just handjobs and blowjobs. Nothing more."

"We don't have to do this. It's not for everyone. And all I want is what I have of you."

Michael smiled and shook his head. "I want you inside me. Please." He arched his back, tugging Alexander against him. Mouth finding his in a needy plea. Legs maneuvering Alexander between his legs, rubbing against him. Whimpering. Working himself up.

Working Alexander up.

He let out a shuddering breath. Took Michael in hand. Felt the heavy, hard length of him. The warmth radiating from the silky flesh.

Blue eyes closed. White teeth sank into rosy flesh.

Alexander stroked Michael, twisting his wrist as he neared the top. He ran his thumb over the head of Michael's cock. It drew a strangled moan from him. Michael's chest heaved. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Rolled down the side of his neck.

Still stroking, Alexander bent over Michael. He chased the drop of sweat back up Michael's neck. Pressed his tongue against the pulsing vein.

Michael's eyes opened. His hands clenched in Alexander's hair. Hips thrust into his hand, rolling rhythmically.

"It's been such a long time since I've done this," Alexander admitted. He sucked Michael's upper lip into his mouth, tasting the tang of sweat. "And never with someone inexperienced."

"Really?" Michael's voice was strained, eyes unfocused.

Belatedly, Alexander remembered that Michael couldn't really talk while having sex. Considering that Alexander tended to be a bit chatty in the sack--at least when he had a partner he enjoyed talking with--this was going to be interesting.

Maybe Michael could just listen.

"I started with men late in life." He kissed Michael again, then slid off him, coming to a rest alongside his warm, sweaty body. "They showed me what to do." He ran his hand up Michael's stomach. Carefully guided him onto his side, facing away from Alexander.

Michael rolled over willingly. His breath caught as he did, and he bit into his bottom lip once again.

Alexander gently ran his thumb over the fleshy bud. Kept doing it until Michael released it.

Michael's bottom lip safe, Alexander picked up the condoms and lubricant.

"Are you gay?" Michael asked suddenly.

His hands faltered as he opened the box of condoms. They trembled. He waited until they were under his control again before taking one out. He laid it on the pillow. "I'm not sure," he answered honestly. Because he wasn't, even after all these years. Peter Morris had been gay, and he'd been incredibly hard for Alexander to excise from his mind. He'd been incredibly fucked up when he'd started sleeping with men, not quite himself.

And yet, he couldn't deny that he was attracted to men. And that, even long after Morris had been set aside, Alexander had continued to seek men out.

And what he felt for Michael was definitely not a by-product of some con from long ago.

"I don't know," he finally said. He opened the lubricant. "Probably not gay. Something like it."

Michael snorted. Rested his head against Alexander's shoulder and looked up at him. "Something like gay. Sounds like the title of a movie."

He laughed. Took the opportunity to kiss Michael. Kept kissing him, growing more heated. Stroked Michael's cock with a lube-slick hand. And when Michael started twisting in his grasp, hips writhing, hands stroking the sheets restlessly, Alexander took his hand away. Added more lube. Slipped his fingers down the cleft of Michael's bottom.

"Oh God," Michael groaned with Alexander teased his opening with the tip of his finger. His whole body went stiff, hands clenching in the sheets.

"Shhh," Alexander soothed. He kissed the nape of Michael's neck. Stroked his stomach. "Relax."

He just panted a few times. Eyes squeezed shut, tense as all hell.

Alexander smoothed his hand down Michael's stomach and took his cock in hand again. He caressed it as he had before, strong, smooth strokes.

If anything, it seemed to make Michael more tense. The more Alexander stroked him, the tighter his body became.

This wasn't working.

"Michael," Alexander sighed. He kissed Michael's neck. Took his hand from Michael's cock to stroke his cheek. "You need..." He stopped talking. Stroked Michael's cheek again.

Michael let out a sigh. Closed his eyes. Tension bled from his body. He relaxed against Alexander.

Okay.

Still stroking Michael's cheek with one hand--was it an erotic thing? Comfort? What?--Alexander circled his finger at Michael's entrance with the other. He pressed, finger entering with just the slightest bit of resistance.

"Push back," he instructed.

Michael nodded jerkily. Pushed against Alexander.

His finger slipped in further. With careful strokes, he pushed in and out of Michael. He worked his finger in until he was to the second knuckle. As expected, Michael was incredibly tight. His nervousness only served to make him tighter.

"I used to dream of you, too," he said into Michael's ear. He kissed the shell. Sucked on the lobe. Continued to stroke his cheek. "That's when I knew I'd lost all objectivity. Waking up with sticky sheets at forty-nine years old." He began working a second finger in.

Michael stiffened. Alexander placed a kiss on Michael's cheek. Nuzzled him, rubbing his nose into Michael's skin. Smelling sweat and skin and sex.

"I tried to pretend otherwise," he whispered. Got his second finger in. Scissored his two fingers to stretch the passage. Turned them around, searching for Michael's prostate.

Knew the moment he hit. Michael's eyes flew open. Neck arched against Alexander's shoulder.

He smiled. "Hey."

Michael's smile was shaky. "Hey." He closed his eyes as Alexander lowered his head for a kiss.

"You know what my favorite fantasy was?" Alexander murmured when they broke apart.

"What?"

Alexander worked his fingers in and out, fucking Michael slowly, loosening his passage. The feel of Michael clenching around him was intoxicating; he wanted nothing more than to remove his fingers and drive home. But Michael wasn't quite ready yet, and he wanted *something* to go well.

"I'd get a call. Or a letter. One of those cranes." He slipped in his third finger. Twisted his wrist back and forth to work his fingers in as far as they would go. "With a message. Encryption. One meant just for me." He bit Michael's neck. "Coordinates. Something. It changed. And, against all logic, I'd meet you." He spread his fingers.

Michael grimaced. Arched his back.

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay." He swallowed. "It's okay. Go on."

Alexander kissed Michael again. Resumed the slow, rhythmic thrusts into Michael's increasingly pliant body. "We'd meet in some small hotel. Not very nice. Like most my assignations. But this would be different. You'd be there. Waiting for me. On the bed, just sitting in that stupid tan suit and baseball cap."

Michael laughed, cheeks coloring. "It was comfortable. Being in a suit."

He sucked on Michael's neck, worrying the spot with his teeth. Bringing blood to the surface. "I understand," he said once he'd satisfied yet another teenage impulse. He pulled his fingers from Michael. Fumbled for the condom. Stroked himself as he said, "I would walk in. You'd rise, and we'd look at each other. Then you'd tell me to put my gun down--on the table or the TV. That's all. Nothing else. And I would." Once he was hard, he ripped the condom foil open. Carefully rolled it on. Slicked the outside liberally with the lubricant. Put his hand on Michael's hip.

"We don't need many words."

"No. Thank goodness." He kissed Michael's cheek. Hooked his arm underneath Michael's knee and pressed it up towards his chest. "Push back," he said.

Michael bit his lip. Nodded.

Moment of truth.

It was uncomfortable, but Alexander managed to position himself. Pushed forward.

Oh God. Michael was so fucking *tight*. He gripped Mahone like a vice. He'd almost forgotten how it felt, doing this. How different than this was from being with a woman.

Alexander panted. Squeezed his eyes shut. Pushed further into Michael. Thought he was going to explode from heat and friction.

It was too much.

"Sorry," he said. He pulled out.

"What?" asked Michael, sounding dazed. He opened his eyes and looked back at Alexander. His eyes were unfocused.

Alexander sat up and grabbed the lube. "I really don't want to hurt you."

"You weren't."

He squeezed practically half the tube into the palm of his hand. Rubbed it up and down his cock. Slid slippery fingers back into Michael--four this time, which caused Michael's eyes to close, mouth to fall open. Thrust a couple more times, then pulled out, wiping his hand on the sheets.

"Let's try again."

"Should I get on my hands and knees?" Michael asked. "Would it be easier?"

"Probably." He stroked Michael's cheek, well aware they were sticky-slick with lubricate. Michael still seemed to appreciate the touch. "I'd rather be able to see your face."

"Should I get on my back then?"

Alexander thought a moment. His original thought had been doing this on their side might be easier. Maybe he was going about this wrong. "Yeah." He shifted, pushing Michael onto his back. "Good thing you're flexible."

"It pays not to be old," Michael retorted, smiling. He tugged Alexander down. Kissed him, practically sucking at Alexander's tongue. It obviously got him excited, because his cock swelled against Alexander's thigh.

Keeping contact with Michael's mouth, Alexander pushed Michael's knees to his chest. Got a grunt from Michael, but this time when Alexander pushed inside, the resistance was half of what it was before. And Michael kept kissing him, hands tight in Alexander's hair.

"How's that?" Alexander panted.

"Good. Oh, God, it's... I like this. Just... yeah, right there. Like that, please." He keened suddenly, hips coming off the bed. Back arched, and Alexander had no fucking clue what he'd done, but he tried to do it again. Pulled back and thrust back in, deeper.

Michael's blunt nails scraped down Alexander's back. His eyes rolled back. Lids squeezed tight.

"What would you do?" Michael suddenly asked. Moaned. Whatever.

Sweat dripped into Alexander's eyes. He blinked it away, trying to clear his vision. "What?"

"In your fantasy."

Fire burned in his veins. Pooled at his groin. Pressure, heat building. It'd been too long since he'd been inside someone, especially someone as exquisite as his lovely fox, the man he'd been chasing for so long. Searching for...

"I'd walk up to you. Until we were nose to nose." Alexander thrust in harder. Leaned over Michael until their noses brushed. "Look at you. Like I was menacing, but I just so I could be near you. Close to you. Breathe you in." He angled up, thrust again.

"Jesus!"

Got what he'd been aiming for.

He did it again.

This time, Michael shot up. Knocked heads with Alexander. Came, his fingers digging into Alexander's shoulders so tightly, he almost thought Michael drew blood.

As he came, Michael's passage tightened around Alexander. A delicious wave of heat rushed through his body. Made his head spin.

"I'd take you in my arms," he said, wrapping his arms around Michael's limp body. He lay Michael back down. Began to move in earnest, a steady, hard rhythm that flamed the fire in his groin.

Michael looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, ever inch the cat with cream on his whiskers. When Alexander tried to stroke his neck, he flinched. Grimaced.

He moved his hand away. Held Michael loosely. "I'd take you in my arms," he said again. "And tell you what a pain in the ass you are." He kissed Michael.

Michael kissed back briefly, then pulled his mouth away. "The feeling's mutual." He ran his hand down Alexander's back. "Except for the pain part." He squeezed around Alexander.

"Oh God," Alexander groaned. Fire exploded through his body, practically blacking out his vision. He arched away from Michael as he came, years of tension and frustration and loneliness rushing out of him, pouring into the man beneath him who fit him so perfectly.

Limp, sated, he pulled out of Michael. Removed the condom, tied it, and threw it in the wastebasket by the bed. Rolled off Michael. Lay next do him so their heads touched.

Michael took his hand. Linked their fingers. "That was good," he said uncertainly, a question in his voice.

Alexander gave him a lopsided smile. "That was good." He lifted Michael's hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. "That was good. I can do better."

"Well," Michael replied, impish smile on his face. "Practice does make perfect." He rolled onto his stomach and kissed Alexander on the corner of the mouth. "We should try again."

He laughed. "God. I'm going to have to invest in little blue pills, aren't I?"

"Naw. We'll just stuff you full of fruit and other good stuff. Keep the vitamins flowing. Besides. I'll slow down." The smile grew. The eyes darkened. "Eventually."

Never had such a simple word sounded so incredibly wonderful.





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