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and forgot momentarily about
his own nakedness as he glanced down.  Jamie was very aroused, he
realized, and entirely unashamed of it; the other boy leaned back casually on
his elbows, body utterly on display, and offered a cocksure grin.
    “Like what you see?”
    There wasn’t any way to
respond to that with the slightest modicum of decency, and so Shea didn’t
respond at all.  He simply leaned forward for a surprisingly soft kiss and let
his hands roam where they would, over the slope of Jamie’s shoulders and down
his narrow chest, to the jut of his hipbone and the smooth curve of his ass. 
Riveted, he mapped out the other man’s body, discovered scars with careful
fingertips: the long raised line that slashed Jamie’s skin above his right hip,
and a thicker, shorter scar at the small of his back.  When he finally glided
his palms down and traced the shape of Jamie’s sizeable arousal, the velvet
skin stretched taut and smooth over impossible hardness, he found himself
surprised by Jamie’s answering gasp.  He hadn’t meant to tease, not
exactly, but the thought made him smile into the kiss as he tightened his grip
around the shaft of Jamie’s cock and tried to stroke with his companion’s
casual, lazy assurance. 
    His fingers slipped, at
first, and both the grip and the angle felt wrong.  Flushed, he tried again—and
then started as Jamie’s hand slid down to meet his, to guide him with their
fingers tangled together.  It only took moments before Shea found the right
rhythm, his mouth pressed against Jamie’s as he grew comfortable with the slide
of his hand against Jamie’s hardness.  When Jamie reciprocated in kind and
rubbed nimble fingers affectionately over the swollen head of his cock, Shea
almost forgot what he was doing entirely, lost a beat in his careful strokes,
and felt Jamie laugh lightly against his lips.
    The dark felt like it
might swallow them, or at least as though it might erase the world beyond the
confines of their embrace.  Mouth to mouth, tangled in an embrace, they touched
each other—sometimes with purpose and sometimes not, sometimes with a
determined rhythm and sometimes with faltering grips when the kisses grew too
heated and desire overwhelmed purpose.  Shea had no idea how long it had been
since he’d felt something like this, pressed himself harder against Jamie as
his hand faltered.  The constant throb of pleasure above and below left him
dizzy.  Maybe a long time.  Maybe never.
    Jamie purred against
his mouth and somehow the world moved and Shea found himself on his back on the
sleeping bag, cool air rushing over his naked body as Jamie pulled away only to
resettle himself between Shea’s legs.  You don’t have to do that , Shea
started to say, but couldn’t, and then Jamie’s head dipped low and his warm,
wet mouth took Shea in all the way to the root.  Thought stopped.  Time
stopped.  Nothing else existed but Jamie’s mouth moving on him, the heat of Jamie’s
hands on his thighs.  “Please,” Shea managed, strangled.  “Please, yes.”   
    Low cries came from him
unbidden and he forgot to be embarrassed in the wake of this encompassing
bliss; still, Shea fought not to thrust into Jamie’s mouth, refrained from
tangling his hands in that silky dark spill of hair.  Difficult, when all he
wanted was that wet heat, but he didn’t want to force, or—or—
    “Go on,” Jamie
encouraged, breathless as he lifted his head. “You don’t have to hold back.  I
don’t mind.” He smiled, lips slick with saliva, but there was a tenderness to
his gaze that startled Shea, almost threw him out of the moment.  Because I
was being considerate?  Hasn’t anyone ever tried to be careful with him before?  
But Shea lost the thought almost immediately as Jamie cast an appreciative,
possessive gaze up the length of his body; he stroked Shea’s slick cock briefly,
playfully, before sliding his hand down farther and back to rub Shea’s entrance
with