I'm slowly working my way back through this journal, tagging and tidying up as I go, and I realise that I never posted this story, after it came down from the competition site. Written in April 2005 for Torquere Press's Marvelous Month of Masturbation short fiction competition, where it was placed 3rd. Luke, Walker, masturbation .... nope, I still don;t see anything wrong with this picture :D
In your favourite darkness
by Alex Draven
He eased in the door, and was wrapped around immediately with the half-lit hush of no-one up to talk to. Jenna was staying over with Enrique, and he knew that Walker would already be in bed – coming home from late shifts to a basically empty house sucked. At least in the kitchen he could have the lights on, and there was Jenna's evil-tempered cat to talk to while he fixed a sandwich and finally got to take his shoes off. Late shifts sucked, and late shifts in retail sucked harder.
Luke contemplated taking a shower before bed, but his eyes were gritty and, as he told the cat, warm naked boyfriend sounded good, and he could grab a shower in the morning. He upended his glass into the sink, and risked life and limb to scratch Sascha behind the ears before flipping the light and padding upstairs.
The banister was smooth and familiar under his hand and he slipped the third step, which might creak and wake Walker. Their bedroom door was half-open, and Luke pealed off his uniform t-shirt as he crossed the landing, aching tired and thinking of nothing more than sliding into bed. When he opened his eyes, shirt still binding his arms together, Luke stopped dead. His mouth was suddenly dry, his breathing loud in his ears, because Walker wasn't sleeping. At least, not to judge from the tented sheets and thrown back head.
One hand vanished between raised knees and pooled sheets. His shoulder muscles worked smooth and fast, and the other spidered over Walker's pale-skinned chest, drawing up small dark nipples. Eyes straining in the dim light, Luke couldn't but imagine Walker's hand, slick and quick, sliding over his cock under the sheets, the sounds of skin on skin filling the spaces between Walker's raged breathing and his own.
His mouth watered. Even in night-sight greytone Walker was a picture, all slender muscles and long lines, head tossing, lost in sensation and whatever dreams might be driving him. Luke's shoulders settled back against the door. The decision between watching and joining in had been taken already by the part of him that was lapping up the show, that had his dick pressing against his jeans, and he managed to untangle his arms enough to bite down on the side of his own hand to keep from making another sound.
God, he didn’t deserve this.
Walker was making small desperate noises, his hips moving under the covers, shadows and outlines to feed Luke's imagination, and his motions were settling into the sort of driving rhythm that meant soon, soon, coming, now. Luke was sure he didn’t imagine that; the tang of come on the closed air of the room, so vivid Luke could almost taste it, almost feel the hot slide of Walker's cock in his mouth; it was hard to keep from making noise.
Not that even orgasm seemed to have fully woken Walker; boneless awkward motions indicated a half-asleep effort at cleanup before he lapsed back into sleep. Luke stayed frozen by the door, watching his lover roll over, shove distractedly at an offending pillow, and eventually settle with a long satisfied sigh.
Luke was dimly aware that the warmth, the soft feelings that settled over the lust, ought to surprise him somehow, but he was pretty ok with the fact that they didn't. More than ok. He didn’t bother to hide his smile from the empty house as he changed direction, tiptoeing carefully across the hallway to their bathroom, and sliding the bolt behind him.
A half minute of thought, and he spun the shower controls: hot water and slick shower gel beating out cold tile and a quick finish. While the water ran hot, Luke skimmed off the rest of his clothes, careful to avoid the mirror, to keep the images of Walker at the front of his mind. When he stepped into the shower jet, he shivered, everything tensing before starting to relax, and rubbing his fingers through his knotted hair, working back towards the equally knotted muscles in his neck, was blissful.
His own soapy hands sliding over his upper body soon returned his attention to his heavy prick. With his eyes shut against the water it was easy to replay every moment of what he'd just seen. Luke's nails scraped, just lightly, where he remembered Walker's fingers pinching and he teased himself a while, hands running all over, just feeling his skin spark and the pleasure dust him all over before he let himself move just that little bit lower to lather his pubes, holding out against actually taking his cock in hand until he was hot and desperate again, imagining Walker's arm pumping, and Walker's teeth biting into his lip, and the way his lover had twisted under the sheets.
When he couldn't hold out any longer, and had to wrap his hand around his length. The slide of foreskin over sensitive head made him gasp. The water had washed away more than just the foam and there was squeaky-clean drag, almost too much until the next pulse of his cock damped the tip, the motion becoming smooth, easy; irresistible. He spread his thighs, tensing his abs to keep his balance, and let the rhythm take him, all the teasing done, and nothing in his mind by Walker's show and his own mounting pleasure. Hot and fast and just enough pressure, just that twist, just that pressure of finger over ridged head, and he came close to knocking himself out on the tile, buckled forward when he came.
Cleaning himself off was an effort, aftershocks sending shivers through him as he rinsed off. He towelled roughly and stumbled heavy-legged across the landing, leaning for a moment against the doorframe. Walker hadn't moved, sprawled two-thirds on his front, just right for Luke to spoon up behind him. Even exhausted, Luke could take a moment to appreciate coming home to that.