A Subtle Breeze

signs of curiosity over the strange behavior that had occurred in the kitchen. Hopefully, he had managed to hide it from him. Stepping into the bathroom, Brendon removed the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash. He dug around until he found two washcloths and ran warm water over them, wringing them out once they were saturated.
Brendon groaned when he walked back to the living room and saw that Zeke had pulled on his jeans. Zeke’s head flew up at the noise, a blank expression on his face.
“Now, why,” Brendon asked, handing the other man a cloth, “did you go and do that?”
“Do what?” Zeke asked, washing the drying spunk from his belly. Brendon was sure Zeke knew what he meant and either wasn’t ready or didn’t know how to answer. From what Enessa had told Brendon, she’d never known her brother to have a lover over, or a steady relationship. Chances were good, then, that this whole after-fucking conversation deal was new to Zeke. That thought brought a smile to Brendon’s lips. He kind of liked this whole situation being new to Zeke, it might help Brendon to win the man’s affection—something that had, in the last hour or so, become increasingly important. A quick affair no longer appealed to Brendon, he wanted more for the both of them. And no matter how much he would like to be the first man Zeke actually felt something for, the real problem was that he’d rather be the last.
Brendon finished cleaning the couch, enjoying the blush that stained Zeke’s cheeks. Ah ha, the man was nervous, and hard, too, which made Brendon’s dick harden in response. “I meant,” he drawled, watching that blush tint the tips of Zeke’s ears, “why’d you cover up that gorgeous cock?” Brendon reached down and stroked his own hard-on, feeling its wet head as Zeke watched.
“I, uhn…I…” Zeke’s eyes were locked, unblinking, on the show Brendon was putting on for him. He hoped like hell he was shorting out Zeke’s defenses.
Zeke plopped down on the couch as if his legs had given out on him. Brendon might have been worried about that, except Zeke’s gaze hadn’t wavered. He watched Brendon with a hunger that was unmistakable.
Brendon stroked himself the entire time he walked forward, stopping only inches from Ezekiel. Brendon used his other hand to take the second cloth and dropped them both on the floor before stepping between Zeke’s spread legs. He stopped stroking his cock, guiding it instead to brush the head across Zeke’s slightly parted lips. Brendon almost expected the man to push him away, and nearly fell to his knees when Zeke grasped his hips and engulfed half of Brendon’s cock. Brendon’s head flew back as a strangled sound was ripped from his throat. Zeke drew back, running his tongue along the underside of Brendon’s cock, looking up to meet his stunned gaze. He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t catch Zeke’s amusement, or the chuckle that vibrated over his dick.
“Ah, fuck, Zeke, fuck,” he groaned, curling his hands in his new lover’s hair. Brendon’s balls drew up, his muscles tingling and tensing. “I’m gonna…need to come,” he warned, hands still fisted tight in Zeke’s hair, guiding him gently.
Zeke hummed his approval, swirling and sucking and throwing Brendon right into an orgasm that was almost violent in force. He watched as Zeke swallowed the bursts of semen, and shivered as the man swirled his tongue into the slit to suckle out every drop before backing off the now-flaccid cock.
Brendon stumbled backwards, plopping down on the coffee table when the backs of his legs smacked into it. Holy shit, he was pretty sure he’d suffered some brain damage or something. He’d never had a blow job that intense before. Brendon’s hands were shaking so badly he grabbed the edge of the coffee table to hide the trembling. He finally managed to raise his head and look at Zeke, feeling his heart pinch a little at the sweet smile on the man’s lips.
“Maybe putting my jeans on was the only way to hold back so I could suck your cock,” Zeke whispered. He was so hard he felt breathless. Watching Brendon come, tasting his seed… Zeke groaned softly and reached down to rub his own erection through the denim encasing it.
“I want to fuck you, Brendon.” He watched the man’s eyes widen with trepidation. Zeke knew he was big, but he also knew Brendon would fit around his cock like a tight velvet glove. He wouldn’t push the man, but he would encourage him.
“I want you to ride me, fuck me until I can’t breathe, can’t think, until we are nothing but two bodies burning for release.” God, Zeke hoped his words were adequate in explaining what he meant. He never had considered himself an eloquent man, hadn’t really worried about it before. Now, though, he wished he had the words to make Brendon understand what he wanted—that blending of two people so completely you couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began.
Brendon’s mouth opened and shut a few times, and Zeke didn’t know if the man couldn’t speak or simply didn’t know what to say. He waited, watching the doubt and desire flash across Brendon’s face. Finally, Brendon nodded, though he still looked unsure.
“It’s, ah, it’s been a while since I’ve, you know,” he stuttered out, studying the floor.
Zeke grinned with delight, because Brendon looked so damn sexy when he was timid and tremulous.
“We’ll take it slow, baby, as slow as you want. You’ll be in control of how deep and how fast,” Zeke promised, standing up and reaching for his lover’s hand. “We’ll fit, Brendon, and it will be so good, so right, that every fear you’ve had about it will be forgotten.” He studied Brendon, noting the effect the words were having—rapid breathing, pounding pulse, and that lovely cock bobbing with each heartbeat. Oh, yeah, his man wanted this. Zeke drew the shorter