“Morning…”
Will’s mouth found his own again — hungry, calescent — and traveled a slow, lazy trail down Taylor’s jaw…throat…collarbone…gentling over the puckered scar on Taylor’s chest. Taylor sucked in his breath.
“Does that hurt?”
He shook his head, although the scars were still sensitive, still felt weird being touched; he wouldn’t want anyone to see them, let alone touch them — but it was different with Will.
This felt healing. The moist trace of lips, the delineation of tongue. He nipped Will’s ear, and Will caught his breath, nudged Taylor’s face, finding his mouth again for a hard, sweet kiss. A lover’s kiss — while Will’s fingertips dusted lightly over the whorls of damaged tissue. A little more to the left and the bullet would have hit Taylor’s heart, but there it was thumping away, fast and strong against Will’s fingertips, and desire buzzed through his nervous system, and he had never felt more alive than he felt right now.
Will’s hands slid down, fastening on Taylor’s waist, holding on, lips moving over Taylor’s. Hot and soft, Will’s tongue pushing inside Taylor’s mouth, and Taylor mewled, wriggling closer.
The roughness of their jaws rubbing against each other, eyelashes flickering against each other, noses rubbing against each other.
Taylor tore his mouth away and said breathlessly, “You must not think we’re going to make it.”
“We’re going to make it.”
“Yeah? What’s this supposed to be? A mercy fuck?” Taylor was smiling — he could feel Will’s surprise.
Will shut him up the best way he knew, slipping his tongue back inside Taylor’s mouth, teasing and sweet, playful like they had all the time in the world — like they should have done a long time ago.
Taylor’s newly warmed hands slid eagerly over Will’s body, moving to the fastening of his pants, and Will reciprocated, undoing Taylor’s jeans and working his hand inside Taylor’s boxers as they humped against each other, pressing close, hips grinding, cocks stiff and shoving against each other.
Palming one hard ass cheek, Will pinched. Taylor bucked. Will smoothed away the sting, smiling against Taylor’s mouth, and their kiss went deeper, hotter, tongues twining.
Will thrust up, Taylor arched back, and they were struggling desperately to find the rhythm, pushing into each other’s touch, frantic with need to be together in this, burning up with it.
Will was panting against his ear, hot moist gusts. Taylor pulled him closer, bit his throat, groaning pleasurably when Will nipped back. Bodies writhing, cocks rubbing, chests pushing against each other — it was feverish and fast and all too fleeting. Will reached down and took Taylor’s wet-tipped cock in his hand, and Taylor rocked up against him, hands reaching up blindly, sliding down his biceps, hips pushing frantically into Will’s grasp.
“You’re purring again,” Will said unsteadily, starting to laugh. “That is…beautiful…”
He was working both their cocks together, and Taylor struggled not to thrash around, to keep his movements tiny and tight because he didn’t want to knock down the entire building. He fastened his mouth over Will’s, smothering the yell he knew was coming.
And sure enough, Will’s body bowed and then released in blazing hot pulse beats, slick heat spilling over Taylor’s hand while he tried to hush Will’s cries against his own.
Will shuddered all over, his hands faltering for a moment, going soft. He tore his mouth away, gasping for air. Taylor jerked against him, frustrated, and then Will’s hands tightened again, and he set Taylor free with a couple of hard strokes, and bright release crackled through his body like raw electric current. He was coming hard, and he felt Will’s hand slip, regain its grip, and milk him of the last sweet splashes of liquid heat.
They rested together then, warm and drowsy while the birds in the meadow sang good morning.
* * * * *
Will stroked Taylor’s hair, fingering the little streak of silver that had appeared after the shooting. “It’s light. We should get moving.”
Taylor nodded. “They’ve got your map?”
“I don’t think they’ll go for the money now. They’ll figure they have to stop us first.”
“But they’ve gotta know they’re running out of time. What are they going to do about Stitch’s body?”
“There are all kinds of places they can stash that body. It could be months — years — before anyone discovers it.”
“If it was me, I’d go for the money.”
Will grinned reluctantly. “Yeah, but you’ve got nerves of steel. Nothing distracts you from what you want.”
“You oughta talk,” Taylor said. “Anyway, I’ve been known to…cut my losses.” A little muscle moved in his jaw. “I know not everything I want is possible.”
“What do you want?” Will asked. His fingers brushed Taylor’s cheek, feeling the softness of beard over the hard planes of jaw. “Besides getting out of here alive.”
Taylor didn’t speak for a moment. “I want you,” he said at last. Sunlight filtering through a chink in the lean-to illuminated his face. He looked tired and unexpectedly vulnerable. “I know what you think. And I know I don’t have a great record when it comes to relationships, but —”
“Four years,” Will interrupted. “Or close enough. That’s how long we’ve been partners — that’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had, and it’s been with you.”
To his surprise, Taylor’s face quivered. He closed his eyes, hiding his feelings from Will, and Will absently noted how long his eyelashes were. He’d noticed that in the hospital too, sitting by Taylor’s bedside waiting for him to wake up. Those long, black eyelashes…
“Hey,” he said softly, “are you falling asleep in the middle of my big romantic speech?”
Taylor’s lashes lifted. “Did you mean it? What you said before about taking it one day at a time?”
“Yeah, I meant it. Of course I did. I’m not letting you go without a
