Pairing: Ian Mckellen/Brendan Fraser

Rating: NC-17

Summary: PWP. Brendan imposes himself on Ian in the middle of the night, while Ian is fantasizing about him.

Warning: D/s.

Ian sat in an uncomfortable hotel chair, wearing a silk robe, with one leg crossed languidly over the other. There was the well-kept but aging copy of Bluebeard, lit by a single wall-mounted lamp, which could not seem to hold his attention, and then there was Brendan - beefy, broad-shouldered, steely-muscled Brendan - who absolutely could. Sometimes Ian reprimanded himself for lusting after the beautiful straight young men with whom he found himself constantly surrounded, but further reflection made that seem absurd. After all, if those young men had been young women, his interest would be considered not lecherous, but nothing short of expected, a foregone conclusion; it was only natural to notice beauty in whatever form one found it. Of course, whether they were young men or young women, there was nothing to be done for it, except to keep a healthy grip on his respect for them as people and their right not to be ogled without at least implicit permission. Ian found this relatively easy in most cases, since he was respectful by nature, and also because there was something about men who actually wanted to have sex with women which put him off just a bit. Still, as he was alone and not imposing his fantasy upon its object, there was no harm in indulging in a bit of intimate imagination. He closed his eyes for a moment, removing his reading glasses and laying them carefully on top of the now discarded book, and relaxed into the warmth of slight intoxication gifted him by the three glasses of smooth, dry red wine he had done away with over the course of the evening. �I find that alcohol, when taken in sufficient quantities, provides all the effects of drunkenness.� Hearing Stephen Fry�s Oscar Wilde in his head made him chuckle and feel a bit giddy.

�Well, Stephen,� he murmured to himself as he stood slowly and padded toward the luxuriously large hotel bed, �I suppose you thought you�d died and gone to heaven�� Ian lay back into the plush bedding, legs splayed, one hand creeping absently inside his robe to rest on his bare chest. ��when you found out they were going to pay you to pretend to make love to all those beautiful boys.� He was starting to feel the warmth of the alcohol transform into the pleasant heat of arousal. Before he knew it, the belt of his robe had been undone by his own lazy but eager hands, and he had gotten into a more comfortable position with one arm behind his head for support, and one knee bent so that he could playfully caress the other calf with his toes.

�All I get to do,� he went on, frowning playfully, �is pretend to want to make love to one beautiful boy.� Dreamily, Ian closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander to his charming, good-natured, and exquisitely butch co-star. He was sure Brendan wouldn�t genuinely object to Ian picturing his broad, smooth chest and thick, muscled arms � which could most easily support all of Ian�s weight and more � while he caressed his own stomach, his own slim thighs with his free hand. Luxuriating in the softness of the silk sheets beneath him, warm hands on his skin, and the flush of excitement brought on by mental pictures of this imaginary Brendan - who was not only willing but eager to pose for him, to undress for him, to bugger him � Ian could feel his prick hardening, straining outward in search of stimulation. He ran the flat of his palm along the underside gently, imagining what it would feel like to brush up against Brendan�s tight stomach. Groaning softly, smelling the ghost of the young man�s scent around him, trying to make himself heavier to simulate Brendan�s weight pressing down on him, he trailed his fingers lower, over the juncture of his thigh. A breathless sigh escaped him and he mentally replaced his fingers with the wide (oh, yes, it would be wide) head of his imaginary lover�s cock as they massaged the intimate ring of muscle between his peach-downed cheeks. Oh, but if there was any justice in the universe, Brendan would not be so gentle. Indeed, a passionate young man like Brendan would hardly be able to keep from burying himself to the hilt on the first thrust. Tilting his head back and drowning his cheeks and ears in pillow, Ian grunted at the thought of that rough but not unwelcome invasion, the jabbing stimulation it would bring to his prostate, and the erotically underrated sense of fullness. His hips bucked involuntarily and a glistening drop of pre-cum drooled down the underside of his prick.

Enjoying the friction but wanting more, he propped himself up on one elbow and leaned toward the bedside table. Ian was going to do this properly. He felt around in the table�s top drawer for the compact bottle of lubricant he knew better than to be without. The first two drops of the cool liquid had just found their way to lubricating his fingertips when Ian was startled into inaction by three loud but hesitant knocks on his hotel room door. It wasn�t until the knocks repeated themselves a few seconds later that he was able to rouse himself from his fantasy and slight drunkenness enough to answer.

�Yes, one moment.� Hastily sealing the bottle, he wiped wet fingers on his bare stomach so as not to soil the plush silk of his robe. He stood hurriedly, causing the container of lubricant to roll off of his lap and onto the bed, forgotten.

�Oh, good, you�re not asleep�� The husky, apologetic voice on the other side of the door was Brendan�s. Ian�s breath caught in his throat as he re-tied the belt of his robe, and the raw heat afflicting his groin renewed itself fiercely. This was terrible, awful, hideous luck. �Oh, I�m sorry, Brendan, but you�re going to have to wait outside. You�ve caught me in the middle of a wank, you see, and who was I thinking of? Well, you, naturally.�

�No, no, don�t worry about that,� Ian called back, grimacing as he heard his voice come out slightly more rushed than he would have liked. �I- I am, however, not quite decent so I�m afraid you�ll have to wait. I won�t be a minute.� He cleared his throat quietly and forced himself to relax. Already the shock had taken a toll on the visibility of his excitement, and after a few seconds of concentration he was relieved to find himself only half hard. Deciding that that was the most he could hope for under the circumstances, he loosened his robe a bit to help hide what was left of the bulge. It would have to do. Ian rolled his shoulders, took two deep breaths, and strode toward the door. His nerves buzzed with excitement, pleasure and embarrassment, but his hand shook only slightly on the doorknob as he turned it. Steeling himself, he opened the door smoothly and managed to affect a nonchalant and absently curious smile as a rough-looking and disheveled Brendan came into view across the threshold.

The young man�s broad shoulders were slumped somewhat and his hands made fists in the pockets of his jeans. His brow had been furrowed while he waited, but when he saw Ian his expression opened noticeably.

�To what do I owe the pleasure?� Ian swallowed a chuckle even as he cursed his propensity for inadvertent puns, and, when he felt the corners of his mouth still straining upward into an inappropriate grin, he coughed. Leaning toward the doorway and glancing inside the hotel room, Brendan pursed his lips.

�I, ah� You�re not busy, are you?� Partly in answer to his visitor�s silent request to enter and partly in order to put more distance between himself and the heat of that strong, rough body, Ian stepped back and swept his arm toward the opposite end of the room. Brendan�s hip just brushed Ian�s as the young man stepped inside, but both men feigned obliviousness. Stealing a few extra seconds to recover from the brief but intimate contact, Ian turned to close the door slowly. It was so quiet that, had it not been for the blood and alcohol vibrating in his head, he would have been able to hear the padding of Brendan�s aggressive strides toward the middle of the room. The silence, coupled with a slow drift toward sobriety, caused Ian to wonder at Brendan�s presence for the first time. Rarely did they fraternize away from the set, though they considered themselves friends, and it was, Ian reflected, rather late to be receiving visitors of any kind. When he turned around, he saw a strapping but troubled young man who pointedly avoided meeting his eyes. Suddenly, the humor of situation was gone, and there was only Ian�s concern for his friend and the discomfort of having had little time to recover from his fantasy of being fucked by him.

�Is anything wrong?� Feeling that he had effectively broken the ice by portraying himself as a thick and ham-fisted would-be confidant, Ian sighed inwardly and sat down on the edge of the bed. Brendan grunted, fidgeting nervously for a moment before joining him a few inches away. Although he was not his usual confident, straightforward self, Brendan still sat that way; while Ian sat deliberately, his knees together and his hands folded in his lap, his young friend sprawled, knees far apart, supporting himself on his hands and taking up twice as much space as was necessary. Ian found this subtle evidence of masculine abandon infinitely sexy, but his countenance showed no hint.

�No. Actually, yeah, but I didn�t come to talk to you about my problems.� Well, that question had gotten him everywhere. Brendan�s face was almost a grimace when he turned to look at Ian and added, �I wanted to talk to you about Clay.� The previous moment�s concern gave way to curiosity, a twinge of irritation, and sheer marvel.

�You came all this way to knock on my door at half past midnight in order to discuss your character?� Brendan sighed loudly and stood up. Immediately, Ian realized he had made a mistake; the undercurrent of amusement in his exclamation had understandably (and, he admitted to himself, foreseeably) been lost on his obviously troubled friend. The result was a harsh rejection he had not intended.

�Yeah, no, you�re right. It can wait,� Brendan said quietly, glancing toward the door briefly before turning to face Ian. �I�ll, uh, I�ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.� His expression was one of embarrassment, resignation and something else which burned just behind those serious blue eyes. Was it urgency? Ian stood just quickly enough to catch Brendan�s arm as he turned to leave. The compact firmness of the bicep he had closed his fingers around registered at the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

�Brendan. I wasn�t trying to get rid of you. Listen, why don�t I pour you a drink and you can tell me what�s on your mind, hmm?� The young man tilted his head back slightly and stretched his shoulders before nodding his acquiescence. Hoping he had corrected his error, and finding that he was actually glad to be in Brendan�s company, if only platonically, Ian poured them each a glass of wine. The presence and smell of a man in the room brought an edge and warmth to the situation, and Ian allowed himself to take pleasure in it. Brendan gave a half smile in thanks as they resumed their places on the edge of the bed, and took a generous swallow before speaking.

�I�ve just been thinking a lot lately.� He scratched his stubbled chin and stared absently toward the wall mirror across from them. �I mean, James wants Clay. He respects him too much to take advantage of the situation, but he wants him, right?� Now this was interesting; clearly Brendan hadn�t come over in the middle of the night to discuss the most overt aspects of his character. If Ian hadn�t known better he might have thought that Brendan expected to get away with disguising a personal conversation as an artistic one. Certainly Brendan wasn�t asking if Ian wanted him. Was he? Delicately sipping his wine, he answered,

�Yes.� The young man turned to face him, resting his right leg, bent at the knee, wholly on top of the bed. His face held the merest hint of a flush, and Ian was startled to see Brendan�s eyes drawn briefly toward his naked thigh, which had peeked carelessly out from the bottom of his robe as he�d crossed his legs. Neither acknowledged the gesture directly, but Ian felt his own face grow warmer and his brows knit with interest. Brendan swallowed hard and held his gaze.

�I think that Clay�� Ian�s attention was wrested from his friend�s speech by a sight so incredible that he couldn�t stop himself staring: Brendan was excited. In his tight, dark jeans, the young man could hardly hope to hide his arousal, especially from someone who was patently incapable of not casting brief glances in that direction occasionally. Undoubtedly that prick was as thick and hot as Ian had imagined it would be; avoiding a reflexive swallow at the thought of how completely it could fill a mouth, stretch an asshole, was out of the question. When he looked back up to find Brendan regarding him resolutely, but with eyes that pled for leniency, Ian knew he had been caught staring. Brendan�s demeanor was exceedingly familiar, so much so that he couldn�t imagine how the realization had come so late; why did the terrified butch boys always choose him to bring them out? He could not stifle a small, wicked and decidedly knowing grin as he set his wine glass on the floor, well out of foot range.

�Tell me, dear boy - did you really think that I would be taken in by this pretense of yours?� Ian deliberately altered his posture so that, without actually moving very far, the two men were all but touching. He could feel the maddening heat radiated by that young, masculine body, now that he had opened himself up to it, and it made his mouth water. If this reckless young man was going to go imposing on old queers in the middle of the night, wearing tight jeans and getting erections all over the place, he was going to get what he asked for. Brendan rewarded him with a hesitant smile of disarming self-deprecation before answering,

�Honestly? I think I was taken in by it until just now.� Ian chortled, his eyes twinkling, and the young man added gruffly, �I didn�t come here intending to seduce you if that�s what you�re thinking.�

�So much the better.� Ian finally allowed himself the pleasure of caressing Brendan�s thick, denim clad thigh, and received an almost inaudible sigh for his trouble. �If there is to be a seduction, I would very much like to be the perpetrator,� he murmured provocatively, moving his hand slowly up the curve of Brendan�s hip, and further, until his fingertips had squirmed just underneath the young man�s t-shirt. Brendan�s breathing quickened, and he leaned into the touch. Frozen with indecision, his eyes glazed and his lips parted, he looked the very picture of fearful desire. Ian licked his own lips lasciviously, wanting more than anything to grab a handful of that straining prick through the denim, to feel its girth and rigidity, but it wouldn�t do to scare the man away at this stage. Instead, his hand traveled up, to caress the tight, lightly tufted stomach, and further, raising the shirt as he went, to revel in the feel of broad, realistically proportioned pectorals. That lovely chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath as Brendan urgently closed what little distance there was left between them and then stopped suddenly, his lips inches from Ian�s. They inhaled each other�s breath, and Ian�s mouth twitched and pouted teasingly, trying to entice the young man�s body into overruling his troubled mind. Finally, when he could no longer deny his aching lips the feel of those larger, rougher ones hovering just out of reach, Ian extracted his hand from Brendan�s shirt and plunged it into his hair, pulling him in. The kiss was tentative and sweet for only a moment before mutual hunger took the reins; hot mouths opened and tongues touched for the first time. Both men groaned, and Brendan made his first unambiguous move by placing a warm, urgent hand on the older man�s bare leg and gripping firmly. Ian moaned softly, sucking Brendan�s tongue into his mouth and clenching his fist around a handful of hair to keep it from straying toward more dangerous areas. When Brendan responded by rhythmically thrusting his tongue and moving his hand upward to part the other man�s robe and bruise his hip, Ian could not help musing that some things, at least, were the same no matter with whom one did them. That rough, plunging tongue made heady promises that Ian desperately hoped would be kept. He sucked it harder, whimpering, and tried to communicate his utter willingness to take into his body any organ his young lover deigned to offer. They broke the kiss, finally, when both became desperate for breath, and Brendan panted,

�I�ve never � �

�I know. It�s sexy,� Ian purred, leaning in to kiss his scratchy jaw and smooth, warm throat.

�Is it that obvious?� A naughty hand found its way down to cup Ian�s naked ass roughly, making him gasp and thrust himself against Brendan�s leg.

�Yes.� Grinning into the skin of that strong, gorgeous neck, Ian clutched at Brendan�s shoulder before lifting his head to rumble lecherously into the young man�s ear, �But I have no doubts about your abilities.� When Brendan�s own hand covered his and pressed it imperatively to that needy, denim-restricted groin, Ian had to chuckle; few were the brash young men who could resist his subtle innuendo and hot breath in their ears. He kneaded ably, attuning his senses to his lover�s hunger and savoring the rush of heat that came with knowing what his hand was doing to that aching prick, and what that aching prick could do to him. Mindlessly, Brendan groaned and bucked against Ian�s hand, nuzzling at his neck. He clung to the silk robe desperately, almost pulling it free of its occupant, and whispered,

�More� God, Ian...� Ian�s vision blurred and his inner muscles spasmed as the young man�s ability to be plead so commandingly threatened to divorce him from his wits. He fixated on the idea of undoing those tight pants and straddling Brendan�s beefy thighs, of threading his fingers through unkempt hair as he thoroughly impaled himself on the young man�s cock � but, no. Brendan was too hot, too ready; he would have to be momentarily relieved before he would be prepared for the strenuous, lengthy coupling Ian desired. Sliding gracefully down onto the floor, Ian went to work on the buttons of Brendan�s jeans; zippers were less work, but there was something delectable about the way the buttons framed and accentuated the young man�s carnal interest. Brendan knew what was coming, and he grabbed unceremonious hold of Ian�s hair in anticipation, though he made no attempt to control the proceedings. Normally the older man would not have allowed such an overt seizure of power from a first-time lover; his submissive leanings were not something he had any interest in sharing indiscriminately. Of particular peril was the possibility of accidentally granting too much control to some young upstart who already believed that his being a bottom somehow made him weak or inferior. In a way that was not wholly justifiable, though, Ian knew that Brendan was different; he knew that when this stunning young man finally pressed him down and thrust roughly inside of him it would be with absolute reverence. He knew that he would be free to seize those powerful thighs in his own, pulling him in deep and pleading to be fucked still deeper, without forfeiting his dignity. The older man nudged tight, maroon briefs aside with practiced ease and freed the object of his desire, that magnificent erection. A delighted smirk could not be contained and Ian found himself kissing Brendan�s prick ardently, reverently, as though he were kissing his lover�s lips for the first time. It gushed and heaved against his lips deliciously.

�Are you trying to kill me?� Brendan groaned, his humor an obvious attempt to temper the impatience his clenching hands so readily expressed. At that point, Ian suddenly felt the need to reassure himself of the acceptability of the act he was about to perform. It could not be denied, of course, that Brendan�s body was a great deal more than eager, but the more experienced man had seen his share of disastrous conclusions to situations which had begun in a similar fashion; their pricks were always so hard and so insistent � for most of them, more than they ever had been in their lives � but afterwards what had their minds to say about it? His own body, though, would have none of this internal discussion. Desperate for the heat and the smell of this sturdy young man, Ian felt his mouth water and his erection pulse maddeningly, unattended. He had no choice but to resolve that they were both adults and would have to deal with whatever consequences arose later, when they could both think clearly. Having mercy on himself as well as on Brendan, Ian enveloped the entire length of the young man�s prick in one smooth, slow motion. He was proficient, but the width of the thing added an element of challenge. Still, he relished the musk and the fine, velvety texture. The thick, sturdy prick slipped and slithered over his tongue, at the same time fantastically supple and indescribably rigid, and Ian began to feel that early-instilled sense of wickedness. Though it would never make up for the hardships of his youth, he often found himself beaming inwardly with a sense of smug privilege. Those who had come up after him, in progressively more tolerant atmospheres, would never have what he did; tamed and reshaped to suit his purpose, that forcefully conditioned feeling of criminal depravity had been transformed into a bottomless reservoir of potent erotic fuel. Ian sucked fiercely, and an eruption of heat and lust overcame him as he succumbed to the familiar feeling of perversion and to the stout, bitter flavor of Brendan�s pre-cum. His young lover groaned and bucked, nearly choking him, but he compensated masterfully, taking Brendan�s prick to the back of his throat before withdrawing almost completely. Ian lashed the heated, swollen head with his tongue, stroked the shaft roughly with one hand, and engulfed him again in the wet heat of his mouth. Bobbing his head quickly several times, he briefly allowed the young man the exquisite friction he craved before pulling back to dip lovingly into the torrid, leaking slit.

�Oh, Jesus�� Brendan tensed, his thighs trembled and his hips jerked involuntarily. Ian briefly considered laying off, teasing him, making him beg, but he knew that neither of them wanted that. Brendan was senseless and animal; coming was the only thing that mattered to him. He supported himself with one hand behind him on the bed, clenching his teeth and panting his desperation. Ian loved the taste of him and the impossible degree to which the young man filled his mouth, but he was eager to bring the scene to a close if it meant moving closer to the moment when his body would be similarly filled. The thought of being held down, stretched almost painfully and pounded without apology by his gorgeous young lover elicited a whimpering shudder from Ian as he sucked earnestly, passionately. He only held Brendan more tightly when he felt the young man�s prick begin to swell in his mouth. Lunging mindlessly, unable to speak, Brendan squeezed Ian�s shoulder. It was an urgent, communicative gesture � a late warning. Ian found the attempt endearing, and he preened inwardly with the knowledge that he was capable of sending such an undoubtedly experienced young man out of his mind that way.

Given the delayed nature of the warning, it was doubtful whether Ian would have had time to pull away before the first wave of hot, sticky semen gushed across his tongue, but he had no desire to do so. Indeed, though it filled his mouth in thick pulses, he swallowed adeptly, using his hand to coax the last few tremors of pleasure out of his young lover�s quivering body. Brendan�s low, choked groans gradually gave way to hisses and sighs as Ian licked him clean, hesitant to relinquish the powerful but softening prick. When there was no strength left in his body, the young man collapsed heavily onto the bed, his chest heaving with sharp, panted breaths. Ian leaned against the side, still between Brendan�s legs, and smiled, vaguely self-satisfied.

--

Ian and Brendan lay on their sides, facing each other. The moment�s urgency having been temporarily abated, they could enjoy the warmth and smell of their sex, the slightly increased humidity in the room, and the soft caress of flesh on flesh. Kissing slowly, deeply, almost experimentally, they clung together and ground every body part they could reach into every other one that was feasible. The tender insides of upper arms swam across scratchy jaw lines, fingertips skipped easily over sensitive hipbones while each man took his turn to moan softly or grunt with satisfaction.

�I get the feeling you�ve done this before,� Brendan murmured into Ian�s open mouth. The deep lazy rumble of the young man�s voice sizzled through Ian�s body, making him kiss back more urgently. He tangled his fingers in Brendan�s hair as his body reminded him that his earlier sense of relief had been both false and temporary.

�I think that nearly everyone who has heard of me knows that I have done this sort of thing before. What not everyone knows is how well I do it.� Planting a delicate hand on Brendan�s broad shoulder, Ian gave into desire and started to pull himself on top of the younger man. He needed contact, needed to feel the heat and power of the beautiful, strong body next to him. When he was heaved down roughly onto his back and saw the shape of Brendan looming over him, his breath caught sharply in his throat. When he felt a large hand pressing into his chest and caught the smoky gleam of soft blue eyes, he moaned breathlessly. The young man was already hardening again, and they writhed together, Ian hissing and Brendan grunting unsubtlely. Strong hands pressed Ian down into the soft bedding as full lips captured his insistently, commandingly. He opened his mouth and let that hot tongue inside, moaned around its length, and teased at taking control by thrusting his own back at it. Without warning, Brendan grabbed a handful of Ian�s hair and yanked his head back roughly, a sly grin bringing light to his intense features. The severity of the action was unexpected, and Ian moaned, his hips squirming involuntarily against the thicker, heavier ones weighing him down. Such shocking assertiveness sent white fire sizzling up his spine and he felt a spurt of pre-cum leave his body like evidence of his melting soul. He clutched blindly at Brendan�s back and gasped,

�I didn�t� want you to think I was a pushover.� Still holding Ian firmly by the hair, the young man leaned in to suck and bite at his exposed throat before meeting his lustful gaze.

�I didn�t want you to think I was, either,� he growled softly. This was perfect, this was beautiful � the kind of first encounter that was one in ten, one in twenty if one was less discriminating. Brendan wanted to treat Ian exactly the way Ian wanted to be treated and there was an understanding between them that allowed each man to give in to his basest needs without worrying how it would be received by his partner. Ian surrendered to it completely, shivering and wrapping his legs insistently around his young lover�s thighs to pull him in, anchor him. Brendan seared hot trails along the older man�s torso, biting his nipples and reaching under him to claw at the small of his back as he arched helplessly. Shifting his weight to his other arm, the young man hesitated and Ian had to fight to open his eyes and focus them through the thick haze of need and sensation that made his head swim. Surely he hadn�t changed his mind? Gotten cold feet? Ian didn�t think he could bear to stop now, so hard and so empty, covered in sweat and smelling of pre-cum and pheromones. If Brendan got up now, saying that he had been wrong, that he couldn�t do this after all, Ian was sure he would expire painfully.

�What do we have here?� The younger man�s voice was thick and full of mirth and Ian blinked a few times before he could see the forgotten container of lubricant as Brendan pulled it gingerly from a under a fold in the silk top sheet. A wicked grin crept over the older man�s lips and his eyes twinkled as he remembered exactly why the article had been left there for his new lover to find. �Were you expecting company?� Brendan raised an apprehensive eyebrow, holding the bottle up between his thumb and forefinger. Ian snickered against the firm skin of the young man�s chest as he leaned up to kiss it hungrily.

�No,� he murmured, snaking the hand that wasn�t holding his weight up across the curve of Brendan�s tight ass. Almost as an afterthought he added, �But I�m glad I�ve got it.� Sitting up on his knees and peering at the label of the bottle in the low light, the young man would not be distracted. The shift in position brought the head of his steely prick into contact with Ian�s, and the older man leaned back on his elbows, staring up at him with parted lips. Soft blue eyes looked down at Ian, overwhelming him with the intensity of the desire he saw there, and Brendan�s tight posture screamed with restrained lust. To be wanted in proportion to his own want staggered him - not because he was unused to the feeling but because the depth of his craving nearly convinced him that no human being had ever felt what he was feeling at that moment. The look in those eyes told him otherwise, though.

�So you were here� alone� with this?�

�Yes.� It was barely a whisper as he held that penetrating gaze with a passion of his own. Brendan leaned down, not breaking eye contact, so that his face was inches from Ian�s and the older man could clearly hear his labored breathing.

�What were you thinking about?�

�You,� Ian murmured breathlessly. A chuckle from Brendan eased the tension slightly as the younger man smirked down at him and Ian found himself grinning as well. It really did seem improbable that Brendan had chosen to burst in on him at the exact moment Ian had been fantasizing about precisely that.

�You�re buttering me up, little faggot.� A thrill of heat went through Ian like lightning and he whimpered at the force of it. The earnestness, the complete purity of his reaction must have convinced the younger man, despite the implausibility of the story, because Brendan�s breath hitched and he kissed Ian savagely. Ian kissed him back with everything he had, taking the crushing lips, the thrusting tongue, the hot, jagged breath and allowing them, for that brief moment in time, to own him completely. Pulling back almost as abruptly as he�d leaned in, Brendan growled low in his throat,

�What about me?� Ian pushed himself up further, plunging an urgent hand into the young man�s short hair, and lifted up so that his mouth was next to Brendan�s ear. His entire body tense with need, potential and determined submission, he gave the ghost of a whisper that could only be heard in the stillness of expectant desire.

�You were fucking me�� Brendan�s eyes flashed fiercely as he slammed Ian down onto the bed with a rough palm on his slender chest. There was no caution now, no fear that force would be misinterpreted or unwanted. They were completely unfettered by inhibition and uncertainty. The younger man unapologetically seized both of Ian�s slender wrists in one hand and planted them above his head as he bit soft pale shoulders, the tender skin of unprotected inner arms and hard nipples. Ian let his head drop back as he had not the strength or concentration required to hold it up. He drowned in silk and hard flesh and stinging trails of pain. Moaning helplessly, he spread his legs further, wrapping around his solid young lover and trying to draw him in, to coax him to go where he needed him most. With no finesse or intention beyond the access Ian had given him with his shift of position, the thick head of Brendan�s weeping prick bumped against the intimate ring of muscle between the older man�s peach-downed cheeks. Now it was Ian�s turn to beg.

�Please� I need you inside me, please�� Abruptly Brendan�s body left his as the young man sat back on his heels and fumbled determinedly with the lubricant bottle, growling through clenched teeth. For a moment Ian felt desperate at the removal of contact and thought to help him, but it was doubtful that his hands would be any steadier. While Brendan struggled, Ian�s gaze drifted reflexively to his young lover�s thick cock and his hazy blue eyes widened with the realization that it had been very long indeed since he had taken anything quite so large into his body. Finally able to tear himself away from the contemplation of his lover�s erection, Ian saw that Brendan had gotten the bottle open and was hastily pouring lube into his free hand. �Use your fingers first,� he said hoarsely. Glancing at him briefly from under firm brows, the younger man nodded once and began coating his fingers instead. Suddenly Ian remembered that he�d nearly forgotten something important. Lifting himself up onto one elbow, he leaned toward the bedside table and felt lust-blindly around in the top drawer. The little plastic condom packets he�d left there seemed to have migrated to the back corner, and he was forced to lift himself wholly onto his knees to reach. It was then that he felt the sudden, thrilling invasion of two thick, eager fingers into his unwary but not unwilling body. He moaned loudly and, incapable of stopping himself, sank backwards until they were completely buried inside him. The friction was delicious, and the stretching was absolutely manageable without being disappointing. Some tiny part of Ian�s brain directed his hand to continue its blind search for the condoms, but the rest of his consciousness was wholly devoted to making him ride those fingers without concern for dignity or propriety. Just when he�d pinched an elusive packet between two slim fingers, Brendan thrust inside him hard, widening the space between his fingers and stretching the older man further. Ian�s hips bucked without his brain telling them to, and he felt himself seize up.

�You� have to stop,� he choked. Quickly, but with obvious care, the digits left him empty and he almost regretted his demand. He turned around heavily to sit, open-legged in front of his young lover, and tear open the condom packet.

�Did I hurt you?� Brendan�s soft blue eyes conveyed an anguish that tore at his heart. He touched the young man�s cheek and smiled impiously.

�No, love, but I was afraid you would make me come.� The idea must have appealed greatly to Brendan, because in the next moment he�d grabbed a rough handful of Ian�s hair and plunged a hungry tongue into his mouth, making it difficult, but not impossible, to roll the latex barrier over the young man�s heaving prick. Tossing the plastic package carelessly over the side of the bed, Ian let himself be shoved onto his back. He murmured, as much for his own pleasure as for Brendan�s, �I didn�t want to come that way� I wanted to come with you inside me.� That was all it took to incite the younger man to frenzied action, and Ian hardly had time to wrap his legs around Brendan�s waist before he was completely impaled in one deep lunge. The first thrust was exquisite, sublime, transcendent; it knocked the air out of his lungs. Arching his back spasmodically, he cried out but no sound came. The next thrust was harder, somehow deeper. It struck his prostate firmly and plunged past, filling him as completely as he had ever been filled. As he clawed at Brendan�s back with his left hand, Ian flailed his right arm up against the headboard to anchor himself. The younger man had a firm hold of his hair now, and he was dimly aware of the slight pain from it and of bite trails across his chest and up his neck. He writhed insensibly, unable to concentrate on much beyond the magnificent friction, the insistent jabbing at his prostate, and the desperately increasing rhythm of it all. Heels dug ruthlessly into Brendan�s firm ass, cruel fingers pinched at Ian�s nipples. When a particularly well-placed lunge sent Ian groaning and clenching his inner muscles, the younger man answered him with a primal sound of his own and an increase in the intensity of his thrusts.

�How do you� ahhh� like that, cocksucker?� Brendan ground out through clenched teeth and between groans. The words sent a lash of searing pleasure directly to Ian�s prick and he could only moan in reply. At that moment, at the core of his being, he was a cocksucker and nothing but, and he did like it, more than anything else in the world. Thrusting again, Brendan yanked Ian�s head back further, causing the older man�s eyes to fly open in delicious apprehension. �I asked if you liked it.� He punctuated the penultimate word with yet another fierce thrust. Mind reeling, Ian did not believe he had the ability to speak, but he knew what was expected of him and thrilled at the thought of giving it.

�Yesss�� The pounding continued, mercilessly, only now Brendan was kissing him, sucking at his chest, lowering himself so that their bodies were touching as much as was possible without interfering with his ability to move his hips. Sweat slicked their bodies as they undulated together in perfect, forceful rhythm. Ian could feel Brendan�s stomach rubbing insistently against his aching erection, could feel that brutal tongue invading his mouth, could feel the crescendo nearing. Suddenly the tongue was gone and there was hot, uneven breath in his ear.

�Tell me you need it� ungh� tell me you need it, you little pillow-biter,� Brendan hissed, groaning loudly before continuing, �Tell me you�ll die if I stop.� Ian moaned, sinking his nails deeply into his lover�s back as the younger man fucked him, grunting in his ear with every thrust.

�I need it � oh God � please� I�ll �� His orgasm came over him swiftly, too swiftly for him to continue. He thrashed violently against the heavy body pinning him down, shuddering helplessly as he spurted semen in thick pulses between their bodies. Three more thrusts, with Ian�s muscles clenching hard around his prick, and Brendan let out an animal groan, arching as he came inside the older man�s body. The writhing continued for several more seconds, each man riding his wave and continuing to tremble with the pleasure and the monumental release of tension. Finally Brendan collapsed heavily on top of Ian, finding that his head fit perfectly in the hollow of the older man�s throat.

It was a long time before their breathing slowed and they began to get cold. Smiling shyly, they clambered beneath silk sheets after Ian, in his perpetual fastidiousness, took the time to neatly dispose of the condom they had used. They clung together, finding no reason to speak, and kissed lazily until sleep overcame them.

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