Well, people have loved Tart and Sweet so far–and have been sad to say goodbye to the guys of Candy Heaven too. I have started sort of a tradition lately of writing a ficlet for a story a couple of weeks after it’s out…Ezra was dreaming, one of those oddly illuminated dreams that turned into real things like empty apartments for the taking and trips to Disneyland.
This one was about suits. All of the suits were in Rico’s apartment and none of them were at Adam’s. In the dream, Ezra was swimming through them–summer weight linen, the fine wool of spring and fall. Formal suits, evening wear, business wear, informal meetings, golf. The textures rumpled under his palms, the coarse rasp of silk, the sleek grain of satin, the rough weave of even the finest vegetable fibers.
He was lost in them, they were slung over Derek and Rico’s couch, piled on the bed, shoved in the refrigerator and bursting out of the bathroom.
Ezra shifted in the dream, feeling a warmth, a pressure, in his body.
In his erogenous zones.
A stretching burn in his ass.
A hot wet squeeze on the head of his cock.
He writhed and shifted, vaguely aware that his thighs had been shoved open and he was splayed open for use. “Miguel?” he said fuzzily. “There’s suits coming out my ass.”
The pressure around his cock was replaced by cool air–and a hot grip around the shaft.
“Suits?”
Ezra forced his eyes open and tried to remember the last thing he’d done.
Oh yeah. Miguel had been working hard on a project and Ezra had kissed his temple. “Wake me up if you want to, you know, poke me with that thing,” he’d joked quietly, pretty sure Miguel was going to be working all night.
Miguel lay between his spread legs, staring up at him with sober amusement. One hand was on Ezra’s cock and the other hand was…
“That’s not suits in your ass,” Miguel said wickedly. He wiggled his fingers–the ones in Ezra’s ass, and Ezra, still lost in dreamland and wildly confused, almost launched off the bed and came.
“My cock’s a rocket,” he said, not caring about making sense, just caring about having sex. “Now. Now. Whatever… gonna come, gonna please, Miguel, I need you!”
Miguel slid up his body, placing the head of his well-oiled cock at Ezra’s entrance. “I need you too,” he said, and thrust in.
Ezra had no control like this, still sort of asleep and totally aroused. He gasped, he moaned, he screamed, with abandon, because Miguel, fucking his ass, squeezing his cock between them–Miguel.
“Ohohohohoh…” his hands flailed, at the mercy of everything and Miguel stopped thrusting long enough to capture them above Ezra’s head.
“Hold them right here,” he ordered, and Ezra nodded, his body so sensitized he was shaking.
“Fuck me harder,” he begged, closing his eyes. He had to think, had to concentrate, had to sort the sensations–cock in his ass, pressure in his cockhead, Miguel, moving, moving, moving…
Miguel slammed directly into his sweet spot and he flew apart on a full-throated scream.
“Augh! Baby, keep coming!”
He rutted, filling Ezra full up with cock and cum and sex and…
An aftershock rocked them both, sending Ezra spinning again and Miguel spasming into his arms.
He collapsed top of Ezra and Ezra tried to put what his body had just enjoyed together with what his brain had been doing.
“Suits?” he asked fuzzily.
“What about them?” Miguel mumbled, licking at the skin of his neck. “And that was awesome. Amazing. It was like Ezra off the chain. We should do that again sometime.”
“Have sex? We do that five nights a week.”
Miguel laughed weakly. “I mean I should wake you up and nail you before you’re all in your head.”
“Suits,” Ezra said again, this time nodding. “There were suits in my head. Suits in Rico’s bathroom. Suits on Derek’s bed. Suits for Adam and Finn.”
“Well good,” Miguel told him, still not moving. That was fine. Ezra could bear his weight any time. “All those guys have suits and you and me, we’ll be naked.”
“But Miguel, naked is nothing to wear to a wedding.”
Miguel broke into baffled giggles, his breath tickling Ezra’s ear, and Ezra giggled too, not even sure why. He’d have to tell Darrin about the suit dream–but he figured he’d leave some parts out.
Like how good Miguel felt when he pulled out of Ezra’s body, still thick and dripping, and how the skin of Miguel’s neck tasted salty like sweat.
And how Ezra dreamed of kittens, clinging like velcro to his own wedding suit, right after Miguel rolled him over to his stomach and fucked him again.
* * *
Finn woke up around one, heard the noise from upstairs and promptly kicked the cat off the bed.
Then he shook Adam awake.
“Wha’ da fuck?”
Adam rolled away, cuddling on his other side.
Finn shook him again. “Adam, they’re having sex again.”
Ezra’s voice, muffled from the layers of flooring and bedding between them, was still very distinct when he screamed, “Fuck the suits out of my ass!”
Next to him, Adam went very still, and Finn imagined his deep brown eyes popped open in the darkness.
“We did not hear that,” he said.
Finn groaned and rolled over to spoon him, thrusting the terrible aching erection he’d developed in the last ten minutes up against Adam’s behind. “I heard that,” he insisted. “It made me horny. Put out.”
Adam groaned, but not really in complaint.
“I put out all the time. I’m your totally slutty boyfriend.”
Finn chuckled, and ran his hands down Adam’s naked back and under his boxers. Adam sighed happily and thrust his muscular backside against Finn’s palms. “I’m the slutty boyfriend. You’re the masterful and virile boyfriend who takes me again and again and again.” He punctuated each “again” with an open-mouthed kiss down Adam’s spine, and Adam moaned breathily and thrust back some more.
“What do I have to do to be your slutty boyfriend?” Adam asked grumpily.
Finn kept kissing Adam’s back, appreciating that he always took a quick shower after work or running. He tasted a little of soap and a little of sweat, because it was late September and not particularly cool yet.
Finn paused as he was about to start wiggling Adam’s boxers off, and thought for a moment.
“Bottom,” he said, and to his surprise Adam rolled over to his stomach and started shoving his boxers of his hips himself.
“God, yes,” Adam muttered. “Get the lube, that’d be awesome.”
Finn’s erection may not have doubled in size, but it definitely doubled in ache. Adam didn’t have a problem with switching, but Finn… Finn usually imagined himself as the bottom.
Tonight, he got to imagine something different.
Adam pushed his knees under him and his ass up, and Finn suddenly felt masterful and virile and hot.
“Lube?” Adam all but whimpered.
“Rim job first,” Finn told him, pulling apart his cheeks and giving him a swipe.
Adam “ohhhhed” into the pillow in front of him, and then some more when Finn fingered him gently, stretching him open.
Finn enjoyed himself back there for a bit, one finger, two, scissoring the two of them, alternating with tongue. Adam made satisfying, full-chested sex-sounds into the pillow in front of him and Finn got lost in pleasing him.
Then Adam reached down to stroke his own cock and Finn jerked back and popped him on the bottom.
“You’re going to make yourself come!” he protested, rooting under the pillow between them for lube.
“Well you’re going to make me come first!”
Finn slicked himself up, pausing for a moment to stroke just right, squeeze it, skate his thumb over the end, give himself some foreplay before he got to sink into Adam’s tight, muscular backside.
Adam turned his head and scowled. “You are going to–“
“Fuck you,” Finn said throatily, the desire raging through is body giving his voice some edge.
“Please!” Adam begged. HIs voice actually cracked.
“Slow.” Finn placed himself right there, right at Adam’s opening and pushed gently. It had been a while since they did this and–
“Finn, stop dicking around back there. Fuck me now!”
Surprised–and impossibly aroused, Finn sank into his boyfriend’s ass in one hard thrust.
They both gasped and hissed, and Adam urged him into motion again. “Please. Please. Baby, just move. Just nail me. I need you so bad.”
Finn thrust forward and pleasure swept his body, up from his balls and across his chest until his nipples and even his hair follicles tingled.
And still those words echoed in his brain, filling him as he put both his hands on Adam’s waist, held on tight and began hard, powerful strokes that pleasured them both with maximum density.
No talking for a few, because Finn’s heart was too full and his brain was too full and his body was too full, and Adam’s ass was pretty damned full too.
For breathless moments only the slap of their own flesh filled the room, and then Adam started stroking himself. Finn could feel the ripples of orgasm traveling Adam’s body, because Finn’s cock was at their epicenter and they started rippling up Finn’s body too.
“C’mon, Adam,” he panted.
“Gonna…”
“C’mon, Adam!”
“Baby, gonna…”
“Adam, dammit! So goddamned close!”
“Finn I”m gonna cum!”
The climax that rocked Adam’s body in seismic waves sucked Finn into it and swept him away.
He came to sprawled over Adam’s back, his eyes clearing of spots.
Clopper let out three short “woofs” in surprise, because they’d made their own noises too, and then silence washed even Clopper’s noises away.
Jake the cat hopped up on the bed and started to nose the side of Finn’s arm. Finn shuddered and slid to the side, surprised when Adam rolled over to face him.
And kiss him warmly in the sex-saturated darkness.
“Thanks,” he said, brown eyes glinting in the light from the window above them.
That wave of emotion that had swept Finn when Adam said “I need you,” wasn’t going away.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, frowning. He wiped his hand on the sheets and then brought it up to Finn’s face to thumb away the moisture that was gathering under Finn’s eyes.
“Marry me,” Finn said into his waiting quiet. “I need you. Marry me. Marry me tomorrow.”
“I can’t marry you tomorrow,” Adam said gently, kissing him again. Against Finn’s lips he murmured, “I don’t have a suit.”
Finn laughed against his mouth. “I’ll buy you a suit for Christmas,” he said. “Marry me on the New Year.”
Adam closed his eyes, a smile of such peace washing over his face that Finn’s eyes burned some more.
“You bet your ass I’ll marry you,” he whispered, and then he kissed Finn again.
* * *
Less than a mile away, Derek got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen.
Rico was up, sitting at his laptop, his black hair pushed up in spikes, his sloe brown eyes half-closed with exhaustion.
“What are you doing up?” Derek asked, scratching at the back of his head.
“I just… I need to buy a suit,” Rico said, sounding absolutely puzzled.
Derek wandered over to look over his shoulder, digging his chin into the back of his neck as he did so.
“Rico, that’s a wedding suit.”
Rico frowned. “Yeah, but it’d look like shit on either of us. Too broad for me, color’s all wrong for you…”
“Yeah. Okay. Rico?”
“Yeah?”
“Come back to bed.”
“Yeah. Do you think we could get another dog?”
“Sure baby. But bed.”
“Why would I need a suit?”
“I don’t have a clue. But I love you.”
“Love you too.”
* * *
In a nicely furnished old apartment in Rocklin, Cy sat bolt upright in bed, throwing his two homicidal felines accidentally across the room. Next o him, Robbie startled.
“Easy baby,” Cy soothed, rubbing his hand up and down Robbie’s back. Robbie still had dreams about the military–it was Cy’s job to calm those down.
“What’ryoudoin?” Robbie mumbled.
Cy slid down under the covers, hugging his soldier boy tight. “I had a dream I was dancing in a white tuxedo.”
“I’ll bet you looked good,” Robbie said, one of those natural moments of Robbie worshiping the ground Cy walked on that Cy had resolved never to take for granted.
“I looked fantastic. You were in black. You looked damned good.”
“Good. Let’s go back to sleep. Maybe we’ll dance some more. Like dancing.”
Cy spooned Robbie Chambers tightly. Cy liked dancing too. “It’s gotten so much better since we started dancing together,” he confessed. “I want to dance with you forever.”
“Yeah. Let’s dream about that.”
Sure.
* * *
Darrin didn’t dream at all that night. He slept like a baby next to his lover, secure in the knowledge that his boys had it covered.
But when Adam and Finn broke the news about the wedding the next day, he was both happily surprised and very put out.
He resolved never to take a break again.
