Karl sighed, took out two more bottles of ale from the refrigerator. Fuck. Fucking fuck. He repeated it a few more times -- fuck was such a good word. Lovely word. Summed up his mood quite nicely. Wanted to be fucking Harry right about now, and instead, he was getting more beer and preparing to watch yet another fascinating game of rugby on Harry's telly while Harry sat on the other end of the sofa. Oblivious fuck. Karl was going to have to think of something drastic. Of course, wasn't like he was being exactly subtle. He wanted Harry. Had wanted Harry for awhile...even before he was aware of Harry's legendary reputation in bed. Had managed to bury the attraction while they'd made "Price." Then "Rings" -- and the geezers -- came, threw a monkey wrench into everyone's sex life. Even Karl, who'd been with the geezers longer than anyone, didn't quite understand how they were able to get every single fucking man...or woman...they wanted. It was fucking insane how irresistible they were. No one was immune. Except Hugo and Astin. The token straight men. Oh well, their loss. And Karl had been having the time of his life with them, loved being around them, loved being with them, loved the things they could all do to each other. Thought it was fantastic that their love was big enough to allow them to bring others into their world, that they could share each other without jealousy and recrimination. And Karl didn't mind the others Sean and Vig brought to their bed. Hell, he'd given Marton to them and what a fun weekend that had been. He didn't envy the geezers anything. Except Harry. Not that the geezers spilled details...they wouldn't, it wasn't how they operated. Everyone else could talk, but all they ever did was smile. Still, Karl knew Harry'd been with them. More than once. Lucky fuckers. Why the hell wouldn't Harry fuck him? He was Harry's friend, he'd known Harry longer, he'd wanted Harry forever. And dumb, clueless Harry was apparently not interested. Life simply was not fucking fair. * * * Being around Karl and not touching him was seriously going to kill him. Harry rubbed his hands over his eyes, groaning. All this polite shit was surely going to be his death. He adjusted his rather painfully hard erection, tried to think of something mundane, something boring...could only think of Karl's ass framed in those tight black jeans as Karl left the room, going to the kitchen for more beer. Harry wanted to sink his teeth into it and devour. No nibbling, no stroking, no nice, polite licking. He just wanted to bite. Seemed like he'd wanted to fuck Karl's ass forever, wanted to strip Karl until he was naked and panting and raw and so completely Harry's that it would take a few eons to sort out what parts belonged to whom. He'd wanted Karl from the very first moment they'd met, wanted those hazel eyes focused on him, wanted those long fingers tracing every part of his body. But Karl had someone. And Harry was too polite to tread on another man's turf, no matter how badly he wanted it. So, he'd become Karl's friend, his director, now his co-star of sorts. But, through it all, through the joy of discovering Karl's sharp mind and eager sense of adventure, he'd still wanted to lay that lean body on the nearest flat surface and fuck it until they were both dizzy and shaking. Ah well, wishes were all well and good, but Karl still wasn't single, might never be. Marton had been here for a few weeks, and he and Karl were just as cozy as ever, stealing kisses and hugs and gropes every chance they got. Harry had spent a large portion of those weeks with Sean and Viggo, fucking his frustrations out on them. Not that they seemed to mind. Harry turned his attention back to the game on the telly...second period. Hmm...Karl had been in the kitchen for awhile. Harry stood, stretching lazy muscles. Maybe he was making a snack. Good idea that. Harry was starting to get a bit hungry. * * * "You planning on spending the rest of the evening in my kitchen?" Karl kicked the refrigerator door shut, let his gaze rest, very briefly, on Harry, all tall and dark and muscled and beautiful, standing in the doorway in faded to hell jeans and a tight t-shirt that emphasized every inch of that broad chest. Harry simply made Karl's dick hard, his palms damp. Magnetism, attraction, pheromones, call it whatever the fuck you wanted -- Harry had it in spades. And Karl was helplessly attracted. "No, but it might be a good idea to put a telly in here, that way we'd be closer to the ale," Karl replied, handing Harry a bottle. "Or I could put a mini-fridge in the living room." "Whichever." They sipped their beer in silence for a moment. "So the geezers ever talk about anyone else with you?" Fuck all, where the hell had that come from? Harry looked at Karl with puzzled eyes. "The who?" Karl should shut up. He knew it. But knowing and doing were often two different things where Karl was concerned. "The geezers. Vig and Bean." "Shudder to think what that makes me," Harry commented, grinning as he took a swallow of his beer. Karl laughed, flashed white teeth. He'd never thought about it, really. Harry was just...Harry. Sexy and god-like and completely without qualifications. "It's just a nickname I gave them awhile back. Guess it's stuck." "What do you mean, do they talk about anyone else?" Karl had been hoping Harry'd forgotten. Fuck. He shifted, balanced himself on the balls of his feet. Harry looked relaxed enough, still leaning against the doorjamb, regarding him with curious tawny eyes. But Karl also knew that Harry had a pretty formidable temper. Fuck. He shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't say anything else... "You know, the others, the other men?" Harry didn't look too upset. "You mean, the stable ponies?" This time Karl's laughter was long, rich. "Fucking hell, Harry," he gasped, waving a hand. "You just don't pull any punches, do you?" Harry lifted a shoulder. "It's what they are." "So what does that make us then?" "Us?" Clueless...fucking hell. There was no way Harry didn't know. Everybody knew. It was the talk of the set. "Well, if everyone else is a stable pony, what does that make us? Aren't we also stable ponies?" Tiny furrows appeared between Harry's brows. "You're one of..." He let the sentence trail off. Okay, so he really wasn't aware. Simply amazing. "I was the first. Not the first solo, pretty sure that was Dominic, but the geezers and I used to...um...tag women, for want of a better term." Of course, they'd moved to other activities fairly quickly. Karl had often wondered if sharing women had just been Viggo and Sean's way of warming themselves up for everything else. "Didn't know that." Harry looked thoughtful. Karl couldn't quite tell if he was pissed, though. Didn't seem to be. "I'm sorry," he offered anyway. Just in case. "Thought you knew. Hasn't exactly been a secret." "Oh, I know about everyone else...I think," Harry answered, still looking at Karl with that thoughtful expression. "I just...ah..." "Just?" "Thought you were seeing someone." He did? "You did?" Karl hadn't had a proper girlfriend or boyfriend in, God, months. Harry nodded. "Yeah, thought you and Marton..." Marton? Jesus. "That was over a long time ago." But, it certainly put a whole new spin on things. Maybe Harry wasn't clueless. Maybe he was just polite. He was always spouting off about manners. "I'm single," Karl stated, taking a step closer to Harry, invading the other man's personal space. Perhaps all Harry needed was a slight push. Harry tapped a finger against his bottom lip, looked right into Karl's eyes. He felt the heat shimmer between them, tried not to breathe. Come on Harry, take the goddamn hint. "You want to be?" Harry asked, gaze still intense and hot and wanting and so many things that Karl couldn't even count them all. But he wanted all of them. "Want to be what?" Karl asked, licking his lips, watched Harry's eyes zero in on his mouth. "Single." Not so clueless, after all. Karl took another step, set his beer on the counter, grabbed Harry's bottle from his loose grip, did the same for it. He brushed his chest against Harry's, reveled in the tremor, felt the pull tugging invisible strings to his groin. "Not especially, no," he said, leaning in. "Good." Harry closed the remaining small distance with his head, captured Karl's mouth with his own. Mouths, lips, tongues, teeth, bodies...whoa. Kissing Harry was a full-on experience with a capital E standing for erotic as fucking hell. Harry didn't just kiss with his mouth, he used his whole body -- his chest kissed Karl's, his cock kissed Karl's, his thighs kissed Karl's -- and then there was the mouth. Fuck all, that mouth, tasting of beer, wet, lips forming to his own, tongue sliding across his teeth. Totally interactive and raw. Karl was beyond gasping when Harry lifted his head and gave him a slow, sexy smile that sent the remainder of Karl's blood racing straight to his cock. "I think we're going to need to be horizontal for the rest of the evenings festivities." Horizontal, vertical, perpendicular -- Karl didn't care. He wanted that sculpted body naked against him, wanted more of that mouth that wrecked control and obliterated brain cells. He had so much time to make up for that he didn't even know where to start. "Whatever you want. As long as it involves getting rid of clothes." What Harry wanted was probably still illegal in some third world countries, but he didn't mention it. He was going to have much more fun showing. Harry dipped down, picked an unprotesting Karl up and hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and strode to the bedroom with quick steps. He'd waited entirely too long for Karl. Fuck finesse. Not that he ever had much in the first place. He dumped Karl on the bed, stretched out over him, and was kissing that lush mouth in seconds. Fuck, but Karl felt good, all writhing under him. He could kiss that mouth all day, spend hours sucking Karl's tongue, days on nibbling soft lips, lose himself inside that hot mouth for a few millennia. Karl's kisses destroyed patience, turned him into a predator intent on only one thing...taking. "Do you have any idea," soft kisses accompanied his every word as Harry moved down Karl's body, shedding Karl's clothes as he went, "how long I've wanted you?" Karl shook his head, clutching the sheets. Harry sat back, let his gaze roam over Karl's nude body. Fucking gorgeous. Sleekly toned and muscled -- Karl was just a thing of beauty. Shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, cock, thighs, calves; hell, even Karl's feet were beautiful. Harry ran a hand over the soft hairs on Karl's abdomen, followed their path to the coarser hairs at Karl's groin, loved the way Karl moved beneath him, shifted into the touch. "Always thought Marton was such a lucky man to have you." Harry bent, captured one of Karl's nipples between his teeth, worried the flat nub into total hardness. The flavor of Karl ignited white-hot sparks throughout Harry's mouth. The feel of that small bit of flesh under his lips was enough to send his brain into total lockdown. Karl's scent wrapped around him as his mouth continued to suck, his hands continued to learn every crevice of Karl's body, stroking from hip to neck and back again. Karl grabbed Harry's shoulders, pulled him up. "You...naked," he growled, pushing Harry's t-shirt up his chest, pulling it off. Hmm...Karl had a point. Naked would rock. Harry stood, slithered out of his jeans, took great pleasure in Karl's low groan at the sight of his nude body. "Like what you see?" he asked, slowly stroking his hand over his cock. Harry didn't think it would be possible, but he got even harder under Karl's gaze. "Yes." The hazel of Karl's eyes was almost black. Just that look alone got Harry going faster than anything else. Harry stretched back out over Karl again, touched every part of Karl's body with his own, laced their fingers together as he lowered his head. Karl's mouth was the sole focus of his world -- stubble scraping his chin, soft tongue meeting his in equal fervor, mouth leading his deeper into sin. "I've wanted you forever," Karl said, moving his hands up Harry's toned back, splaying his fingers over the smooth flesh. Harry was acutely aware of every part of Karl's body under him, sleek skin damp with sweat, muscled chest pressed into his, hard cock against his own, calves sprinkled with dark hairs scratchy against his own. "Guess we were both pretty stupid," Harry smiled, his kiss now light, but no less possessive, firm. "Clueless," Karl agreed. He grabbed Harry's ass, rubbed their cocks together. Harry groaned. Kid was going to completely wreck him. Tongues now tangled in desperation, mouths ravished, hands raced. Fuck slow, they'd both waited too long. They shifted, moved, rubbed. Bodies strained against each other, cocks sliding in delicious friction. Beyond sublime, beyond perfection. Karl's hands on his cock -- learning, shaping, moving -- were purely fucking magic. Karl's penis filled his own hand, responded, jumped under his every touch, his every light stroke. "Open your eyes, Karl." Hazel eyes focused on Harry's tawny ones. "I want to watch you." Wanted to watch those beautiful eyes cloud over in release, wanted to watch that handsome face as Karl lost himself under Harry's hands. "We'll watch each other," Karl said, sped his hand up. Hands, cocks, skin, nerves...only Karl and a body that burned under Harry's, demanding more and getting everything. Only Harry and a need unlike anything he'd ever known shattering his soul. Only them, racing toward release in a blinding flash of hoarse groans and rough kisses. Karl was beyond done, beyond satisfied, beyond sated...too long, he'd waited too fucking long. Once wasn't going to be enough for him, he wanted another. And he wanted it fast and hard and right the fuck now. "Again," Karl commanded, still stroking Harry's cock, hand wet with Harry's semen. "Inside me, Harry." Dark eyes flashed, burned and Harry captured Karl's lips in a forceful, bruising kiss. Karl spun, shattered, was remade and shattered again in that kiss, body so in tune with Harry's that it almost seemed like he was sliding inside his own flesh, like those were his fingers, sticky and hot, probing in him, twisting and learning, stroking the muscled walls, like it was his cock, head just inside him, moving so slowly that time fractured around them. Karl lifted his hips off the sweat-dampened sheets, locked his legs around Harry's waist. "Hard." It wasn't a request. "Hold onto something," Harry said, framing Karl's hips with his large hands. He waited until Karl stretched his arms up over his head to grip the headboard before slamming his cock completely inside Karl's ass...yes. Fuck yes. Karl bowed his back off the bed, arched into the contact, rose to meet Harry's every hard thrust. Cock inside him, filling him, forcing him open, brushing his prostate with every third stroke, balls brushing against him with every movement...yes. Harry moved like a natural disaster, claiming everything, leaving nothing except devastation in his glorious path. His hands squeezed Karl's hips, his muscled chest gleamed with sweat, his hair was matted to his forehead...and his eyes fucked Karl right along with his cock, just as complete, just as hard. Karl didn't even need to touch himself, he just needed those amaretto eyes searing into him and Harry pounding into him to bring him to another splintering orgasm, coming at him hard and fast, a train wreck of tangled limbs and shameless lust. Finally he was whole, finally he was complete. "Christ, we should have done this years ago." Harry braced himself up on his elbows, kissed Karl slowly, lingering over tender lips, his tongue now soft and soothing. "I've been trying," Karl said, closing his eyes in bliss when Harry's mouth moved to his neck. He moved his hands to Harry's slick back and Harry stretched into the contact. Karl could seriously get used to this. "Guess I should have been paying more attention." Karl's smile was teasing as he ran his fingers though the damp strands of Harry's hair. "Yes, you should have." Harry smiled, lips curving against Karl's collarbone. "Well, I'm paying attention now." "Good." Onto Straight
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