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Money's Worth, Part Nine (X-posted from FFF)

Once again I'm pushing it a bit close to the deadline, but I hope you enjoy the next tease-tastic portion of Money's Worth.


And please do check out the other fictioneers at Free Fiction Friday

Money’s Worth—Part Nine

To Stan’s relief, he didn’t get nervous on the short walk to the bedroom.  Holding on to Cole’s warm hand probably helped with that.  Stan felt closer to him, safer somehow, than he would have if they had just walked side-by-side.  Cole’s hand had the same contrasts as the rest of him—the skin firm yet soft, with a few calluses on the palm to make things interesting, his grip firm yet gentle. 

They reached the bedroom in no time at all.  Stan led Cole through the doorway and paused to let Cole look around.  He looked around at the room, trying to see it through someone else’s eyes.  Stan was an admitted neat freak, so everything was in its place as usual.  His bed was neatly made and covered by his favorite forest green and white quilt, and no clothing or shoes littered the floor. 

He was also not much of a decorator, preferring simple furnishings and as little clutter as possible.  He had painted the walls a pale green he found soothing.  The bed was a queen featuring a simple, dark wood headboard and footboard.  The nightstand and dresser matched.  At the foot of the bed, one of his mother’s cedar chests held extra bedding.  He didn’t have any other furniture.  The only other décor was the dark green curtains.

His sister found his home austere and boring, especially the bedroom.  She was always trying to get him to bring in a decorator and make his place more “stylish.”  Would Cole feel the same way? 

Cole squeezed his hand.  “Neat and masculine.  It suits you.”  He turned toward Stan and raised an eyebrow.  “Wanna mess it up?”

Stan laughed.  A sudden playful urge struck him, and he pushed the unsuspecting Cole toward the bed. 

Cole stumbled and landed on the mattress, face down.  He rolled to his back and grinned up at Stan.  “I’ll take that as a yes.  Come over here.”

Stan slid onto the mattress beside Cole and ran his hands over Cole’s chest, unable to be this close and not touch him.  The light dusting of pale hair on Cole’s chest felt different from his own darker hair, and he liked that.  He liked everything he’d seen about Cole’s body, honestly.  He smiled his appreciation. 

Although he didn’t see the appeal in his slimmer, older body—he’d found a few grays in his chest hair a while back and plucked them out, feeling ridiculous as he did so—Cole did if the flare of heat in his gaze was any indication. 

He nudged Stan onto his back and leaned on an elbow next to him.  His eyes raked over Stan’s chest like a physical touch.  His grin turned self-deprecating.  “Now that we’re here, I don’t even know where to start.  There’s so much I want to do with you.”

Stan stretched up to kiss that grin.  Then he wrapped an arm around Cole’s neck and pulled him down to the bed.  “Why don’t we start here?”  He pressed his lips to Cole’s once more, teasing them with his tongue. 

Cole opened to him immediately.  Stan lost himself in the sensations of slick heat and the sinuous tongue tangled with his own.  One of Cole’s hands slid up his chest, fingers tangling in his chest hair.  He shivered at the contact.  His cock, which had quieted during the downtime, took renewed interest in the proceedings.    

His shiver turned into a full-body shudder as Cole’s hand made its way back down, over his stomach and closer and closer to his rapidly filling erection.  He moaned into the kiss and tried to shift closer, but Cole wouldn’t be hurried.  He caressed Stan’s thigh, his touch light and teasing. 

Stan broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “Stop teasing me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Cole murmured back. 

And then his hand rubbed over Stan’s cock, and even through his slacks Stan felt the contact like a brand.  The sound he let out could only be called a whimper, although he would never have admitted it.  His eyelids fell closed involuntarily.  Without the distraction of Cole’s beautiful eyes and all-too-attractive face, Stan could focus on Cole’s touch.  Two layers of cloth didn’t dampen the feeling of warm, strong fingers gliding over him much at all.    

Cole kissed his way down Stan’s jaw line to his neck.  At the base of his neck, Cole paused and began to suck lightly.  At the same time, he popped the button on Stan’s slacks and slid his hand inside. 

Stan’s erection came to full, aching hardness at the first brush of fingers against the bare skin of his cock.  “Oh my God!”

“This okay?”

When Stan could speak, his voice came out a harsh, demanding whisper.  “More.”

 Cole let out a breathless chuckle that was muffled by Stan’s skin.  “Guess that means yes.”  He stopped speaking for a moment as his hand busily unzipped Stan’s pants.  “Can I suck you?”

All the blood left Stan’s brain in a wild rush.  Cole wanted to suck him?  What kind of idiot would turn that down?  Of course his answer would be yes.  More like fuck yes!  A few seconds passed before he could force his mouth to form coherent words.  At last, he gasped out, “Yes.  God, yes.  Please.”      

Cole pressed a quick kiss to Stan’s jaw before scooting down the bed.  Stan opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows.  There was no way he could not watch this. 

Cole grinned up at him and grasped the waistband of his pants.  Without a word, Cole drew them down, over his thighs and knees until they fell down and got caught at his shoes.  He toed his shoes off in a couple of awkward movements. 

Before he had time to feel silly lying there in only his boxers, Cole reached for those too.  Because of the silky material, they slid right off. 

The look in Cole’s blue eyes could almost have burned his skin.  Cole ran a fingertip over the smooth skin of his erection.  “You’re…wow.”

Cole, speechless.  Because of him.  Stan tried to ignore the little hitch in his chest that caused and focus on the physical pleasure of Cole’s hand on him.