Author's notes: A bar. Some beer. The boys. PWP. Set in the same universe as Letting Go and Flow, sometime in the indeterminate future. Written for Ravyn.
Warning: male/male slash, if you are offended by this, please don't read it. Go read something you'll enjoy. Don't read it and then bitch at me because you got squicked. The warnings are there for a reason.
"Is it too late to change my mind about this?" Xander asks as he and Lindsey follow the crowd, making their way across the parking lot to the club on the corner.
"Thought you said you liked country music," Lindsey reminds him dryly.
"I do," Xander says. "But mostly in a 'my heart's been ripped out and stomped on and now I need to be alone with a six-pack of beer' sort of way." He nods sagely. "It's all about the pain, Lin."
Lindsey snorts and leads the way to the bar once they're inside. "C'mon. We'll get drunk, check out the pretty girls, and by the time the band comes on, pain'll be the last thing on your mind." He pays for the beer, then turns and follows Xander to a table against the back wall. "Why are we hiding?"
Xander shrugs and feels his cheeks turn warm. "You know how I am when I get drunk."
Lindsey grins wickedly, and Xander's blush deepens. "Yeah... yeah, I do," Lindsey says, his eyes hot.
Lindsey's got that little hitch in his voice that Xander's come to recognize as meaning "We need to be alone and naked now," and his own breath hitches once. He swallows heavily and tries to speak normally. "Thus the need for the table in the back." He was going for light and easy, knows he didn't quite hit it, but he's all right with that.
Lindsey accepts Xander's many quirks with an easiness that astonishes him. He doesn't think that's ever happened before, not that he's aware of, anyway. Doesn't really understand it -- Lindsey's got a short fuse and he blows pretty hot when he loses his temper, so his laid-back acceptance surprised Xander. For the first time in his life, Xander doesn't feel the need to walk on eggshells to keep somebody happy. It's nice.
Xander watches Lindsey watch the couples on the dance floor and thinks about that. Lindsey's different than what he's used to, beyond the obvious guy thing. He's comfortable with Xander in a way that makes Xander comfortable with himself. The joy of gay sex isn't the only new thing he's learned since the two of them hooked up. It's his favorite part though, he admits to himself, and grins.
"What's the grin for?" Lindsey asks curiously.
"Just thinking," Xander says nonchalantly. "'Bout sex." He reaches for his beer and takes a long pull, pretending not to notice the heat that reappears in Lindsey's eyes at his casual comment. Grins to himself, then thinks he better cool it, or the two of them are going to end up going at it right here in the middle of the club. And while Xander's fine with his Lindsey-assisted discovery that he's got a kink for semi-public sex, doing it here would probably lead to all kinds of pain that no amount of beer and country music could fix.
So he settles back in his chair and distracts them both with funny comments about various dancers. The fact that nearly everybody in the club is wearing cowboy boots would normally get a riff of jokes all its own, but he decides to avoid any mention of 'cowboy chic'. Being kicked with his boyfriend's own shit-kickers would definitely ruin the funny.
The jokes work for a while, but the beer Xander's consuming at a fairly steady pace makes his limbs feel warm and heavy. His brain is too, and he's suddenly obsessed with the way Lindsey's neck curves up out of the collar of his blue flannel shirt. Xander's got a huge thing for Lindsey's neck, and he's lost, remembering the way Lindsey's skin there is always so soft and warm, the clean soap-smell that makes his stomach twist and his cock hard every time he buries his nose in the crook of Lindsey's shoulder and just... breathes.
He shakes his head, takes a deep breath and a deeper swig of his beer, and tries to focus on the band that's just come onstage. Horny's something he can do anytime, and Lindsey's wanted to see this group for a while -- the least he can do is stay rational enough to wait until after the show to drag Lindsey home and fuck him silly.
Xander moans in spite of himself and tries to cover it up with a cough. From the look Lindsey's throwing him, he can tell it didn't work, but he just grins and gives a half-shrug.
He puts his beer bottle down and pushes it away, says apologetically, "Maybe I better stop with that." Watches understanding flicker across Lindsey's face, and oh, hell, that look is doing absolutely nothing in terms of calming him down. He's going to start squirming in his seat like an embarrassed junior high school kid with a hard-on any second now, he knows it.
A waitress comes to their table and asks if they need anything else. Xander starts to ask for a soda, but Lindsey cuts him off with a shake of his head and an abrupt, "No, we're done here." He stands up and pushes his chair back, obviously getting ready to leave, and Xander's confused.
"Hey, thought you wanted to see--" he says when the waitress walks away, but Lindsey interrupts him.
"I know what I want to see, and it isn't a band I can see another time, that's for damn sure." His voice is low and rough and tingles shoot all up and down Xander's spine, because that's the sound of a Lindsey that wants to fuck or be fucked five minutes ago.
He opens his mouth to argue, to say that he understands that this is important to Lindsey and he's got no problem with waiting. Or not much of one, anyway.
Before he can get the words out, Lindsey's right in his face, eyes bright and glittering, breathing hard. "You may be bigger than me, but if you don't get your ass out of that chair and into the truck now, I'm gonna haul you up over my shoulder and carry you out. See if I don't."
Xander stands with a gulp and a grin, picks up his abandoned beer and finishes it off in two long swallows before heading for the door. Who the hell is he to argue with a man who so obviously knows what he wants? Especially when what Lindsey wants is him.
His cock is achingly hard long before he slides into the truck on the passenger's side. He briefly debates jumping Lindsey right here in the parking lot, but he likes playing self-control guy. For now, anyway. He hides a smile against the window as Lindsey starts the truck and peels out into the street, wonders if they'll make it to the bedroom this time. Maybe one of them will end up bent over the dining room table again -- that was fun.
Of course, it's all fun, and Xander's about to start a list in his head of the more unusual places they've fucked, when Lindsey speaks.
And his voice is sandpapery and just that much too quiet, and Xander's gone. He never can say no to Lindsey when he talks to him like that, but drunk and already horny? Not a chance in hell.
Xander unbuckles his seat belt and slides across the seat, but stops short of actually touching Lindsey and waits. OK, so he's not quite done with the teasing. He leans forward to play with the radio and stifles a grin.
"I know what you're doing."
Xander jumps a little when Lindsey runs a hand up his back. He chuckles, can't help it, and tips his head back, leans back into Lindsey's hand, enjoys the feel of Lindsey massaging his neck.
"What am I doing?" This time it's wide-eyed and innocent that he shoots for and misses, but it still doesn't matter, and Lindsey laughs softly.
"You're such a fuckin' tease, Xan." Lindsey slips his hand around Xander's neck and tugs gently, trying to get Xander's head in his lap, but not forcing it. "C'mon, help a guy out."
Xander shoots him a look, but Lindsey's eyes never leave the road. He's smiling and still tugging, though, and Xander feels electricity spark through his fingers and hunger pool in his groin.
"What? Now? You trying to kill us both?" But he's already moving, sliding his ass back toward the passenger door and allowing Lindsey to guide his head. Lindsey shifts and sighs, and Xander licks his lips as he pops the top button of Lindsey's jeans open and unzips them.
"This ought to make a real interesting accident report," he says, and slips his hand in, smoothly pulling out Lindsey's cock, which is rock-hard and has drops already forming at the slit. Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he starts pulling on it, just a little slower than he knows Lindsey likes, and continues with his train of thought.
"So... whaddya think they'll put in the paper, anyway?" he asks conversationally, barely managing to keep the laughter out of his voice. Leans down, licks the wet head of Lindsey's cock slowly, then props his head on his free hand and continues. "It's not like they're going to report what actually happens, so I'm just wonder -"
Lindsey groans. "Look -- just do it already, huh? I'm not gonna crash the goddamn truck," he growls. Yes, growls, and Xander thought he couldn't get any harder than he already was, but oh, yeah -- he was wrong.
One last grin, followed by "All you had to do was ask," and then he's doing his damnedest to swallow Lindsey whole. He's amused when Lindsey bucks and he feels the truck swerve slightly, but Lindsey's got it under control soon enough, so Xander starts sucking in earnest.
Long sweeps with his tongue up the warm, smooth length of Lindsey's cock, pulling back just enough that he can suck hard, his hand pumping in time with his mouth. Contented humming in his throat as he listens to Lindsey's breathing grow fast and loud, his own cock twitching and aching. He shifts his lower body, trying to move far enough that he can rub himself off against something, fucking anything at this point, but Lindsey lets go of the steering wheel long enough to plant one hand firmly on Xander's lower back.
"No way. That's for me, when we get home. Want you to fuck me, want you inside me."
Xander's stomach ties itself in knots, anticipation building already, but he stops sucking to argue. "I'm practically still a teenager," he says, still pumping Lindsey's cock. "It's not like I can't get it up again." He tugs harder, enjoying the way Lindsey jerks with the pull, the noises he's making low in his throat.
Lindsey threads his hand through Xander's hair and runs his fingertips lightly across the fine hair at the base of his skull. Xander bows his head into the touch and takes Lindsey's cock in his mouth again. Still trying to move enough to get some much-needed friction on his own cock.
Lindsey starts talking.
"Y'know, if you wait, you could just fuck me--" Lindsey stops and inhales sharply as Xander slips his hand down to Lindsey's balls, cupping and rolling the heavy softness gently. "Fuck yeah..." Xander slides his mouth down, swallowing Lindsey almost to the root, and feels the truck swerve again briefly. A brief silence, then Lindsey continues.
"Fuck me twice. Want you so fuckin' bad, Xan. Hard, fast, rough -- just the way you like it, right?" Now Xander's the one making noises in his throat, and Lindsey's low chuckle rolls over his skin like rough silk when Xander stops trying to fuck the seat. "Like that, huh? Me too, baby, me too."
The truck stops, and Xander doesn't know if they're at a light or a stop sign or if they somehow made it all the way home already, but he doesn't give a shit either. He's hot and hard and frantic; the sound of Lindsey's voice always does that to him, always makes him crazy. And the idea of fucking Lindsey; once, twice, it's all good. So yeah, he'll wait, but there's no reason to tease anymore.
Xander moves until he's kneeling on the floor of the cab, stretched across the gearshift and the seat. It's awkward and a little painful, but the pain takes the edge off, makes the idea of waiting more tolerable. Now he can balance his weight so he's got both hands free; he puts one on Lindsey's balls and the other 'round the base of his cock.
His hands and his mouth are moving together now, fast and gentle and hard all at the same time, and he feels Lindsey stiffen and slide his hands through Xander's hair. Knows Lindsey's close, and he sucks harder. Pumping faster, and Lindsey's balls tighten right in his hand, and Xander's swallowing, swallowing, sucking every last drop of come from his boyfriend's cock, because he never can get enough of the taste of Lindsey in his mouth.
Sits up, licking his lips, notices where they are. "Guess we made it safely after all," he says with a grin. He's talking to himself, though, because Lindsey's already slipping out of the truck, fixing his jeans as he goes. Xander gets out himself, follows Lindsey to the door.
He's too impatient to wait even the few moments it takes to get in the house, and his hands are busy, busy, skimming over Lindsey's body. Xander pushes himself hard against Lindsey's ass as he reaches around and unbuttons the flannel shirt. He laughs quietly when Lindsey fumbles the keys and has to search for the house key all over again when Xander slips his hands underneath the white cotton t-shirt Lindsey's wearing under the flannel and up to his nipples.
There's the key, and the door's unlocked, open, and they're inside. Xander kicks the door shut behind him as he shoves Lindsey up against the wall and kisses him hard. Heat flares up his forearms at the moan Lindsey gives when he hits the wall, and he's got two fistfuls of shirt, pulling and tugging frantically, breaking apart only to get both their shirts off.
They have to stop long enough for Lindsey to work his way out of his boots, and Xander laughs while he kicks off his own shoes, and then helps. "You really need shoes that are easier to take off."
Lindsey ignores him like he always does -- he's only heard it every time they end up like this. More rough kisses, and Xander has just enough presence of mind to step out of his pants when Lindsey unbuttons them and slides them down his legs. Lindsey's own jeans are gone, though Xander can't figure when that happened and they sink to the floor, still kissing, hands sliding everywhere.
"Want you on your back, all right? Wanna see you, wanna watch you," Xander says between kisses.
Lindsey nods and lies down, Xander settling himself between Lindsey's legs as he works his mouth to his favorite part of Lindsey's neck. Stops, inhales, savoring Lindsey's smell. Then, "Fuck. We haven't got any--"
Stops and yelps when Lindsey encircles his erection with a lube-slicked hand and slides it up and down, coating him. "How in the--"
"You talk too much, Xander." But Lindsey's grinning as he holds up an open tube.
Xander supports himself with one arm and holds out his other hand, and Lindsey spreads lube over Xander's fingers.
Lindsey's eyes go dark and needy, and fuck but that makes Xander want to just plow right into him when he looks like that. But that'd just hurt, so he takes his time, sliding his hand between them, slipping his fingers into Lindsey one at time, easy and slow. Shakes his head when Lindsey reaches for his cock, because that would send him over the edge before they even got started, but he's past the place where he can say it out loud.
Lindsey understands, he always does, so he pulls back and just takes it. Takes Xander's fingers until he's gasping and sweaty, fucking himself down on Xander's hand, and Xander knows Lindsey's ready. Which is good, because Xander also knows he can't wait another fucking minute.
He pulls his fingers out and watches Lindsey's face intently as the emptiness registers in Lindsey's eyes. Then he's there, pushing his way in, too slowly but just fast enough and it's so fucking sweet. He sees that in Lindsey's eyes, too, and Lindsey pushes and relaxes, pulls his legs back farther, and he's in and thinking how every time it happens, it feels like the best ever.
Xander stills and drops his head to Lindsey's chest, takes a minute to breathe and adjust, trying to keep from having it end too soon. Lindsey slips one hand into Xander's hair, rubbing the back of his head gently, waiting for Xander to get control.
Finally, he does, and they start moving. It's slow and sweet for about four seconds, and then it's all about being hungry and needy, right there on the floor in the front hall.
And that thought goes straight to Xander's cock; the way they need each other so badly that even after all this time they can't wait long enough to make it into the bedroom to fuck.
He leans down because he wants to say it; wants to share the sharp beauty of their impatience, but Lindsey's got other ideas for his mouth. Before he knows it, Lindsey's sucking on his tongue; and there they are, moans on demand, like always.
Lindsey's hands are tight on his shoulders and he's thrusting up against Xander, tilting his hips, and Xander knows he's hitting him in the right spot, because Lindsey's almost sobbing around his tongue. It's fast and rough, the way they both need it, and it's too fucking wonderful to last very long at all.
He tries to balance so he can reach Lindsey's cock, but Lindsey smacks his hand away.
"Don't... move... it's perfect," he says between groans.
So Xander lets Lindsey jerk himself off while he concentrates on holding it together as long as he can. Then Lindsey comes, his head thrown back, and it's always the most beautiful thing Xander's ever seen. His own orgasm hits him hard and fast, rolling down his spine and he comes too, jerking and groaning.
Lindsey moans softly, once, when Xander pulls out of him. Xander settles down, not quite comfortably, but very happily on the floor next to him and sighs contentedly. "I think we beat our record."
Lindsey chuckles. "Definitely. We're, what -- three feet from the front door? Don't think we're going to be able to top that."
"Probably not," Xander agrees. He turns his head and watches Lindsey for a few minutes, then a wide smile spreads across his face and he laughs quietly.
Lindsey looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "What?"
"I was just thinking," Xander says.
Lindsey raises one eyebrow. "Do I want to know about what?"
"I think we should go back and see that band again."
Lindsey's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why?"
"Well, if it's anything like tonight, maybe we won't even make it inside the house. There's that big hedge next to the garage..." He lets his voice trail off and looks at Lindsey hopefully.
Lindsey closes his eyes and just laughs.
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