Since he was fucking thirteen and knew his old man would beat the shit out of him if he was ever found out.

"Hmm?" Slayde looked confused for a second, then went back to chasing his lips.

God, Slayde was weird. Like really. Still, given the way the man kissed, Drake would take weird. Hell, Drake would wallow in weird.

He felt around the bed for the lube, his prick telling him to get on with the prepping already. His fingers wrapped around the tube, and he slicked his fingers. Shifting, he supported himself on one hand and slid his fingers behind Slayde's balls. Oh, fuck, hot.

"You've got big hands."

"Don't make me start with big bad wolf jokes."

"I've already blown your house down."

He groaned. "You need to shut up now." To that end, he covered Slayde's lips with his own.

Slayde's laughter pushed right into the kiss. He took it in, his finger sliding into Slayde's body.

Oh, damn. The man was tight, gripping his finger, and he wanted in, wanted to feel Slayde, every inch. He fucked Slayde with his finger for a few strokes before working a second finger in. The man seemed even tighter and Drake moaned, pushing deep to hit that little spot…

"Fuck…" Slayde rolled up, shoulders leaving the mattress.

He grinned. Yeah, go him. He nudged that spot again.

"There. Right there, man. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice. He kept pegging Slayde's gland each time he pushed his fingers into Slayde's body. His own cock was leaking again, wanting where his fingers were so badly.

"Please." Fuck, Slayde was beautiful. Fucking stunning, lips open, cheeks flushed.

He jammed a third finger in, too keyed up for finesse. At least it was slick.

"S…soon. Soon, man. Please."

"Wait for me, man." He wanted inside before Slayde came. He wanted to feel that all around him.

Slayde nodded, swallowing hard. "I will."

Pulling his fingers out, he gloved up, slicked up, and settled between Slayde's legs. Slayde spread, eager and open, as wanton as anyone he'd ever met. He guided his prick in, eyes watching as it pressed against that tiny hole. Slayde's body spread, stretched for him, taking him in. Slayde was so tight around him, so fucking hot and he moaned, sinking in deeper and deeper.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, you're so fucking thick."

"And you're so damn hot." Slayde was the fucking hottest thing ever. Like a fire around his prick.

He got a nod and Slayde pushed up, driving onto him.

"Fuck." He pulled partway out and slammed in deep again.

Slayde's lips formed an "O" and not a single sound slipped out. So he did it again. Then Slayde's fingers found his shoulders and the man met the next thrust.

"Fuck." He moved harder and faster, trusting that Slayde was right there with him.

The bedsprings creaked and groaned, singing as they rutted. He'd never felt anything so good. When he brought their mouths together and they kissed again, while fucking, it nearly blew his mind.

Slayde's body rippled around his prick, milking him, tugging at him. He managed to get a hand around Slayde's cock. It only took that touch, that single fucking touch before Slayde shot, spunk spraying on his fingers. The smell of it, and the way Slayde's body rippled all around his prick, pulled his own orgasm out of him.

He rested there afterward, buried in Slayde, staring down. Damn. So very fucking good. He collapsed onto Slayde, panting. Slayde held on to him, almost rocking him.

Drake reached down, grabbing the condom as he pulled out. He mourned the loss of that sweet sheath. Groaning, he looked around for somewhere to dispose of the condom and he was hit again by the exploded thrift shop nature of Slayde's room. Crazy. You'd never think it, looking at the man in the house.

He found a garbage can and managed to toss the tied-off condom into it, then rolled off Slayde onto the mattress. It was a little awkward now, not knowing what to say, what to do. This was where he usually ducked out, his hook-up just as happy to have him disappear as he was to go.

Of course, here he was going to what? Go across the hall? He opened his mouth a few times, but he didn't know what to say.

Slayde chuckled. "It's a little weird, huh?"

He snorted. "Make that a lot and you're right."

"Yeah. I… It was good."

"I'm better than just good." He puffed up a little, more playing than really growly.

Slayde's laughter was warm, genuine. "Yeah. Yeah, you were."

It made him feel good, having Slayde agree with him on that particular point. He patted Slayde's hip.

"I'm hungry." Slayde blinked, then grinned. "Like genuinely."

"We sorta skipped supper." There was all that take-out in the living room. "I could go get it."

"That would be cool. We could…share."

He patted Slayde's hip, the movement a little less awkward this time, then got up and grabbed his underwear, slipping it on before running downstairs to grab the take-out boxes. By the time he got back upstairs, Slayde had a spot cleared for the food, an action-adventure film on his little TV.

Drake handed over one of the boxes and a fork, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Slayde with one of the other boxes. He had to admit, slinking off after a quickie with a one-night stand had nothing on this.

It didn't take long for Slayde to slow down, start leaning against him, blinking slowly. Drake hesitated a long time, but when he was done eating, he put his arm around Slayde's shoulders. Slayde sighed softly, hummed and snuggled.

Drake sat there, amazed at himself for enjoying this, at the situation to start with. He didn't move, though. Amazed or not, he was enjoying it. A lot.

Chapter Seven

Slayde woke up with the scent of Chinese food in the air and his body sore like he'd been well-fucked. Whoa. A low groan sounded in his ear and something big and warm shifted, pressed closer.

Oh, God.

He looked at the clock, then at the bedroom door. Early and locked. Thank God. Drake shifted again,

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