He awoke in the still-darkness of early morning to Ethan rustling about. Heard the click as Ethan turned the alarm off before it sounded and then the groan of springs as he got out of bed. Bare feet on hardwood, the snick of the table lamp, then the stairs creaking under footsteps.
He wrapped his arm over his eyes, and tried not to wake up yet. He had a few minutes yet to sleep, Ethan would take some time in the bathroom. Not quite managing sleep, he drifted in a near-meditative state for a while, until he heard the bathroom door open and shut below him.
He groaned and lifted his arm off his eyes, kept them shut as he groped about on the night-table until he found his glasses and slipped them on.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and finally opened his eyes. He squinted against the lamp light. After a moment, the digits on the clock swam into focus.
Only 5:10.
He rubbed a hand through his hair and wondered what Ethan was doing getting up so damn early.
Ah, well, he’d never manage to get back to sleep now. He was up and conscious, and he was too used to waking up at a moment’s notice. He stood up as Ethan reached the top of the stairs. Ethan caught him when they passed each other and pulled him against him, Rupert’s back to his chest, and nuzzled his shoulder.
Rupert clasped the hand that rested over his heart and smiled. Warm skin, tickling breath.
They detached gently and Rupert headed downstairs. He could feel his higher mental functions gradually whirring to life as he shaved and brushed his teeth. His mind began to run through a checklist of the day’s activities. He needed to set aside a selection of poetry anthologies for Ms. White’s class, and he had a meeting at two with the horrid new principal. Oh, yes, and today was the day the computer teacher would be bringing her students in to help with the... whatever that was. Willow was excited about it. And he could probably talk Buffy into a bit of training after the meeting with His Obnoxiousness, Herr Snyder.
He dried his hands and headed back upstairs, contemplating breakfast.
Until he reached the top of the stairs.
All thoughts--of breakfast or otherwise--left on a sudden rush of breath.
No room for anything in his mind now but Ethan. Naked. On his back on the bed. One hand lazily tugging his cock, one knee drawn up. The corner of Ethan’s lips drew up in a small smile, and then he dropped his head back on the pillow and moaned softly, his other hand snaking between his legs to cradle his balls.
Of course that would be why Ethan was up early...
For a moment, his mind still fuzzy with sleep, all he could do was watch. Ethan’s hand, slow on his own shaft, Ethan’s hips nudging up into his own grip. Shine of lubricant.
Gradually, it became less about being to slowwitted to do anything more than watch, and more about simply enjoying the view. Ethan was gorgeous like this, he was all the best parts of his younger self. Wanton and hedonistic and deeply alive and in the moment. His stomach moved with his breath, moved with his hand, moved with his hips. Soft sweat and tense muscles, and a small sound he couldn’t stop.
Rupert didn’t look away as he pushed his own boxers down, and let them drop to the floor.
He rubbed his palm over his own hardening cock, and warm pleasure pushed through him, slow and sedate but good.
Then, finally, he crawled onto the bed, crawled over Ethan. Drowsy eyes opened and looked up into his own, and then Ethan reached up, pulled him down with strong arms. Rupert let him roll them over.
Familiar weight, limbs twining together and making way. The bed was still warm from sleep, from Ethan, whose hair fell around Rupert’s face, tickled, and smelled delicious. Ethan’s cheek was smooth and fresh-shaven and his breath was minty. Rupert slid his hand up around the curve of Ethan’s shoulder as the other man’s hips pushed down against his own. Ethan’s hand, still slick, pushed between them and found both of their cocks.
Rupert hummed and pushed up, shimmering sensation pushing through the early-morning haze. They moved together, an easy, timeless rhythm, as their lips nuzzled and found each other, warm mouths melded. Wet heat, slick pressure.
Something hard and cool poked him, and he reached down, found the lubricant tube.
Their kiss broke, and Ethan’s breath puffed lightly against his cheek. Ethan’s eyes were open now, looking down from a distance too close to focus into his own. Rupert flipped the tube open with his thumb, shifted it around until he managed to get it positioned so he could squeeze a dollop in his palm.
Ethan was stroking them slowly now, building a low, hot burn. Made Rupert want more, but Ethan no doubt knew that. Ethan loved the tease.
Rupert worked his hand between them, two bodies pressed close, hot skin and muscle catching his hand and then releasing it as they rocked against each other. His slippery fingers eventually found their way down between his own legs.
He shuddered at his own touch and took a moment to simply tease the smooth, sensitive skin. Ethan pulled back, gave him room and looked down between them. Rupert watched Ethan watch him as he touched himself: traced circles, let his fingertip just barely dip inside. The pleasure of this was trembly and delicate, like lace.
And eventually, not enough.
He pressed two fingers inside. Dropped his head back and moaned. Heard Ethan echo him with a small breath accented with a hint of sound.
He fucked himself slowly, pulling against the muscles inside.
Ethan waited, watching, until he slipped his fingers out, laid his arms off to his sides, and drew his knees up. They smiled at each other, then Rupert leaned his head back and closed his eyes and Ethan pushed inside him.
*God, so good.*
Hard, big, and overwhelming, even after all these years. It sent prickles across his flesh, dizzy curls of pleasure through his chest. His hand jumped up, almost of its own accord, and found Ethan’s warm side, then slid down, settled on Ethan’s hip as he began to move.
Rupert kept his eyes closed. He rolled up, and Ethan’s weight pressed him down.
Ethan still moved slowly. He’d nestled his face against Rupert’s shoulder, and his breath trembled against Rupert’s chest. Tickled, and danced against his nipple, teasing it to hardness like a touch.
They rocked together, slowly, and Rupert could almost believe they had all the time in the world, believe that they could spend the whole day here, like they used to, long, long ago. Like they were young again, and living for nothing but this constant haze of sleepy pleasure.
Each of Ethan’s deep, slow thrusts pushed a small breath from Rupert: half-whimper, half-groan.
Rupert reached between them, again, and curled his hand around his cock.
Dizzying pleasure inside him. He stroked himself with short, sharp jerks. He felt Ethan’s breath quicken against his shoulder, then Ethan lifted his head, kissed up his neck, nipped his ear. Rupert groaned, loud against the stillness. He swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, a spark of sensation.
Ethan made some indecipherable sound against the side of his head, and fucked him a little harder, a little faster. They both lifted up into it and Rupert tightened his grip, dropped his hand off Ethan’s side and gripped the sheets.
He could feel Ethan beginning to lose it, beginning to slide away from control, from reason, into pure sensual pleasure. Gentleness faded to rough, desperate want for just a little bit more, thrusts hard and strong. Bordering on pain, but only in that good way. Rupert stroked himself fast and hard, gasping for air, and shoving up into Ethan’s every needy thrust.
Sparks of pleasure at the corners of his vision, and then Ethan cried out, coarse and primal, and pressed deep inside him, shaking with the force of orgasm. His head tilted back, body held up on trembling arms.
He was beautiful.
Then, panting, Ethan slid down Rupert’s body, nudged his hand aside with his chin, and took him deep in his throat, sucking hard, no preamble. Dark hair tickling the insides of his thighs, suction blacking out the rest of the world, the echo of Ethan’s cock still aching inside him, it only took mere moments before Rupert jerked his hips up and came, shouting his release into the golden haze of dawn.
They both lay still for a while, Rupert flat on his back, melted to the sheets, Ethan relaxed between his legs, head pillowed on his thigh.
Rupert finally sat up when sleep began tugging too temptingly at him. Ethan sat up as well, with a mumble of protest, looking sleepy and rumpled.
He was really quite adorable, though Rupert would never say such a thing, unless he was intending to aggravate him. At the moment, that was the furthest thing from his mind, so he just pulled him into a somewhat awkward hug. They weren’t situated right for hugging, and their legs were getting in the way, but it was nice, nonetheless.
They held each other until Rupert’s internal punctuality alarm finally grew too loud to ignore.
“We’re going to be late,” he murmured.
Ethan grunted, and didn’t let go. Rupert smiled and kissed his throat, the skin that was nearest his lips.
“Ethan...”
“Don’t care,” Ethan said.
Rupert laughed softly, and kissed him again, and said, “God, I love you.”
They were late.
The End
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