The Long Way Home
I
watch him out of the corner of my eye.
The way his body moves when he walks fascinates me. How can someone that big move with that much
grace and stealth. I try to keep him from
knowing I'm watching him, somehow I don't think Graham would appreciate my
attention. Not to mention the fact that
I just started admitting to myself that I like guys. I can't imagine that he wants to be my
experiment.
Once
inside I show him to the bedroom. I have
to stifle a groan as his fatigues stretch across his ass when he bends over to
place his duffle and bag of…well, demon parts on the floor and unlace his
boots.
Leaving
him digging through his bag I go to the kitchen and grab a beer from the
refrigerator. Taking the beer to the
couch I grab the remote and blindly flip channels trying not to think about
Graham's ass. I jump when I hear his
voice behind me.
Turning
I come face to face with a set of the most beautiful abs I've ever seen. God, he's huge. My eyes travel from his stomach across his
chest finally landing on his face.
"Care
if I shower?"
I
have to swallow twice to dislodge the huge lump that has suddenly formed in my
throat.
"Yeah,
sure go ahead."
I
watch him turn to go. He stops and turns
back to me with a small smile.
"Where?"
God,
I'm an idiot. I get up and he follows
me. Without warning I stop short in
front of the closet outside the bathroom.
I can't stop the gasp as his body collides with mine. He's a solid wall of hot hard muscle pressed
tightly against my back. I manage to
stop myself before leaning into the contact.
"Sorry,
I should have told you the light was changing."
I
grab a towel and thrust it at him before practically running back down the hall
to the living room. Picking up my beer I
down it in one long swallow. I hear the
water kick on and this time I don't stop the moan as I realize he's naked,
naked in my shower. Wet, slippery and absolutely gorgeous.
I
close my eyes and picture him there.
Water streaming down his body, across his hips, pooling in the soft
patch of hair between his legs, droplets of water raining down from the tip of
his cock.
Suddenly
I'm there with him. My hands running
down his shoulders, across his back to the swell of his ass. My tongue licking drops of water from his
nipples as our cocks grind together. I
let my hand slip down the front of my body, rubbing the straining flesh under
my fly.
I
flick the button open and ease the zipper down sighing in relief as the
pressure is alleviated. I see myself
kneeling in front of him, our eyes locked together as I take him in my
mouth. I watch the way his eyes roll up
as his back arches.
My
eyes snap open when I hear the water shut off.
Quickly I refasten my jeans and go grab another beer. I can't believe I just sat on my couch
seriously contemplating jacking off to naked pictures of a guy who probably
knows ninety-nine ways to kill me with his pinky.
Okay,
calm thoughts. Giles. Giles in a dress
with his hairy legs sticking out from underneath. That's much better. At least until I catch a glimpse of Graham
walking past the kitchen in nothing but a towel swung low on his hips.
Taking
several deep breaths, I grab a beer for him and go back to the couch to
submerge myself in mindless TV.
When
he comes in to sit I realize he must be trying to killing me. He's in a dark pair of sweat pants topped by
a white wife beater. God his arms are
the size of my calves and the only coherent thought I have is that I want to
lick him. He settles on the other end of
the couch and motions to the television.
"Anything
good on?"
"Uh...Springer."
His
face registers nothing.
"Springer?"
I
roll my eyes. These guys really are
sheltered.
"You
know, Jerry Springer, the talk show. The
one with all the fights."
Still
nothing. I sigh.
"Just
watch."
After
about a half hour he turns to me with a nearly disgusted look on his face.
"People
actually watch this?"
I
can't help but laugh of the tone of his voice.
"Pure
entertainment value. It's like driving
by a car wreck. You don't want to look,
but you just can't help it."
The
corner of his mouth turns up and he quirks an eyebrow at me. God he's sexy. I
shrug and hand him the remote. His eyes
settle on the videotape rack next the entertainment center.
"You
mind?"
He
motions to the rack and I nod.
"You
want another one?"
"Sure."
I
grab our empties and get two more beers from the refrigerator. When I get back to the living room I see him
sitting in front of the rack with several tapes next to him and one in each
hand. That's when I notice the wooden case I kept hidden behind the rack
sitting open in front of him. The two
tapes in his hand belong in that case.
Oh, God. I keep that case hidden
for a reason. It's got the porn, the gay
porn. Oh, God.
His
head swivels to me. I watch his mouth
open and close several times before he puts the tapes and case back. Picking up the two tapes from the floor he
pops one into the VCR before settling back on the couch. I hand him his beer without a word, silently
praying for the Hellmouth to open up and swallow me.
As
the opening credits for Platoon roll I watch him out of the corner of my
eye. Closing my eyes I'm desperately
trying to find a way out of this situation.
His voice startles me.
"You
can find better than those on the internet."
My
jaw drops and I turn to look at him but he's staring intently at the
television. I start to ask him how he
knows when I realize this is one of those times when I need to just keep my
mouth shut. I turn back to the
television and wipe all thoughts from my mind.