Comfort and Joy
Buck leaned dolefully on the bar, nursing an hour-old beer and asking himself for the two-hundredth time how he came to be stuck in this filthy dustbowl for the festive season. Celebration - whoever thought up that name had got to be joking. One thing was certain: there was nothing to celebrate about staying in Celebration. He watched Ezra out of the corner of his eye, the gambler locked in a game as always. To the casual observer, he appeared smartly dressed and focused on his play but Buck's knowing scrutiny revealed an unpressed shirt under that fancy vest and an air of distraction around those cool green eyes. Even Ezra could not maintain his detachment and indifference in the face of the scam their friends had pulled on them…A movement to his right jolted Buck back to the present. He didn't need to look to know that it was the one available woman in this godawful hellhole. After three weeks without sex, he was getting desperate but he was still six months shy of that desperate. He took the tepid beer and headed for a table right in the draught from the door: the last thing he wanted was to give out any signals that he wanted a cozy rendezvous in a snug corner. He sat there, alone and miserable, for another hour… staring at the same glass of beer.
Ezra had been keeping an eye on Buck throughout the evening. The past year had seen him grow closer to the jovial ladies man than he had ever been to anyone. They'd worked together and joked together, competed for a woman and plotted schemes for profit or revenge as circumstances demanded. The realization shocked him but he had come to regard Buck as a friend. It pained him to see the man so low, on a night when he would normally have been providing his unique brand of company to a lonely woman somewhere.
Finally, Ezra threw in the game and gathered up his winnings. He collected a bottle of the piss-water that the saloon sold as whiskey and joined his friend. Pouring a glass for each of them, he downed his in one.
Buck nodded his thanks for the drink and sank it. 'Take much?'
Ezra tossed the remnants of his winnings onto the table and shuffled the coins with experienced fingers. 'Six dollars and a bottle of inferior whiskey. I don't believe I have ever worked so hard for so little. There is little profit in being the superior player in a town where no one has anything to lose.'
'When I get back…' Buck muttered murderously, dropping another shot. 'Chris knew what this place was like and he played me for a…'
'… sucker?' Ezra inquired coolly. 'As for myself, I have Mr Tanner to thank for my current straits. He too has visited this municipality and assured me there was a surfeit of riches to be had here. Like you, I have been savoring the retribution I intend to visit on him when the opportunity presents itself.' He swallowed more whiskey with a grimace and poured again. 'I fear we have both fallen victim to our natural drives.'
'After twelve years… you think you can trust a man… then …' Words failed Buck and he kicked the table-leg bitterly.
'One can certainly understand why they were less than eager to undertake the errand themselves. The most grievous injustice of the situation is that these privations are felt more keenly by gentlemen of our refinement than the likes of Messrs Larabee and Tanner.'
Buck nodded grimly. Chris could get drunk anywhere and Vin didn't pay much mind to gambling or women anyhow. After a pause, he added in a softer tone, 'At Christmas an'all.'
Ezra looked up in surprise. 'I hadn't realized that this time of year had particular significance for you.'
'It doesn't. But women hate to be alone at Christmas.'
'Ah, of course. You had plans in our little town.'
'Too right. Thought I'd pick up a bit o' fun here and be back to keep Suzy company waitin' for Saint Nick. What happens? Damned delivery's late and there's nothing here for any man in his right mind.' He drained his glass, waited for Ezra to do the same and then refilled them. Examining the half-empty bottle, he scowled. 'We'll be lucky if we can even get drunk on this.'
Ezra studied the woman at the bar. He'd often joked about Buck's lack of selectivity and it was true that he'd seen the man with a wide spectrum of women but, underneath the gibes, he knew that Buck simply loved them. He was not inclined to penalize age or looks if a woman presented herself well and offered good company. The harridan at the bar came into a different category: she was dirty, scruffy and hadn't stopped eating since they arrived in town. Ezra knew that Buck could drink several bottles of the watered whiskey and still be unable to overcome his revulsion.
Buck followed Ezra's gaze but not his thoughts. 'Hell, Ezra, I wouldn't touch her with yours.'
A smile played on Ezra's lips. 'Indeed you would not.'
The amused tone soothed Buck's frayed nerves. 'So you're poor and I'm horny. What a Christmas Eve!'
Ezra studied his friend thoughtfully through his shot glass. Finally he spoke in a low voice. 'I confess that I currently lack a plan to remedy my state of poverty but I might be able to offer a solution to your problem.'
Buck glanced up, his interest unmistakable. 'Yeah?'
Ezra leaned back, pondering the wisdom of what he was about to say. During his deliberations, he'd realized that he liked the feeling of having a friend. He wasn't in a hurry to throw it away. He was uncertain whether the offer he was about to make would cement or destroy that friendship.
'We are both men of the world, are we not? During the past week and some, it has become clear that you will not be entertaining yourself with a woman in this town. The alternative, therefore, seems self-evident.'
Buck looked at him for a full minute, then shook his head. 'I never had you pegged that way, Ezra.'
The gambler shrugged. 'I prefer not to be hidebound by convention. As you well know, I rarely seek out such recreation. However, when I do, I am motivated more by the quality of the companionship than any specific requirements.'
The tall man considered his friend's words. He was indeed a man of the world and wasn't in the least shocked, merely surprised that a man who exhibited so much more greed than lust should have such appetites stirring underneath that unflappable exterior.
'Don't tell me you have never tasted such pleasures yourself. I was convinced that expediency must have demanded flexibility on occasion.'
Buck grinned broadly. 'Three months, maybe. Three weeks…'
'With Chris perhaps?' Ezra's curiosity was plain.
Buck was unfazed by the question. 'No. As it happens, he don't. Leastwise, I never seen it if he does.'
'But he knows that you have?'
A shrug. 'I guess. It's nothin' to me what he knows. I don't need his say-so.'
'Quite so. I was merely inquisitive.'
'Got an interest there?' Now Buck was curious.
'He has a certain… energy.' Ezra pondered the idea. 'No. Somewhat too violent for my tastes. Not to mention the fact that he despises me.'
The remark took Buck by surprise. 'No… was a time, mind, but he counts on you as much as anyone else these days.'
'Do you genuinely believe that?'
Buck nodded and was pleased to see what the knowledge meant to Ezra. It had nothing to do with any sexual fantasy: the man wanted to be liked and trusted, how ever much he might tell himself he didn't need those things.
They each sank another couple of shots while Buck pondered Ezra's offer. It was the best he'd get in the next fortnight and it might lift his depressed frame of mind to salvage something from their dismal expedition. He examined Ezra again, wondering whether the offer came from a need for vengeance of some kind - maybe on Chris?
Ezra guessed his friend's thoughts from his expression. 'I don't deny that I would like to extract some satisfaction from the sorry scenario in which we find ourselves. However, were that my sole motivation, I could concoct a scheme by which we appeared to triumph over our compatriots' deceptions. As it is, I would rather pass a pleasant Christmas Eve in good company than merely imply that I had done so.'
'Me too, Ezra, me too.' An idea crossed Buck's mind - silly, but he'd had some fun with it in the past. 'You ever play poker for somethin' other than money?'
Ezra frowned, then caught up with Buck and smiled. 'But you know you can't win against me.'
'Who says I wanna win? C'mon.' Leaving the near-empty bottle of whiskey on the table, he collected two more from the bar and led the way up to Ezra's room. The gambler had naturally taken the better of the two rooms available and Buck figured they might as well enjoy it. He waited while Ezra unlocked the door and then followed the other man inside.
The faded grandeur of the room was incongruous with the run-down town: clearly there had once been better times. A generous brass-framed featherbed stood against the far wall with nightstands on either side. At the near end, an old but elegant couch faced a fireplace and two chairs stood by a table under the window.
Ezra locked the door and turned to face his friend. He was still uneasy at gambling with something he was not ready to lose. As a professional, he knew the imprudence of that. Buck gave the broad grin that made everyone, men and women, so easy in his company.
'Relax, Ezra. I've never fallen out with a woman over a roll in the hay - sure as hell not gonna lose a friend over it.'
Ezra nodded, took off his hat and jacket and brushed them meticulously. As he hung the jacket in the wardrobe and closed the door, he caught the look on Buck's face and raised an eyebrow.
'Givin' me a head start, huh?'
Thinking of the game Buck had proposed, Ezra smiled. 'Rest assured, you will need it.'
While Buck got a fire going, Ezra busied himself in pulling drapes, lighting a lamp and pouring drinks. Within minutes, the room was more homely and they blanked the foul little town out of their minds.
Five hands later, Buck had lost his hat, both boots, jacket and bandanna.
'You ever not play to win?'
'No.'
'Fair enough.'
It was Buck's deal but that never seemed to help against Ezra. Surprised at how eager he was to see some of Ezra's stylish garments hit the floor, he contemplated cheating but knew that his opponent would spot his clumsy efforts in an instant. When he picked up his cards, he felt a thrill at the sight of three tens. He kept his excitement firmly in check: Ezra had an uncanny knack of producing hands that just beat his opponents' and, even when he failed to do so, he was an awesome bluffer.
Up to that point, they had been playing one hand for one unspecified item of clothing and Buck knew where that would take them. He'd be sitting there without a stitch while he'd be lucky to take Ezra's tie.
'How 'bout we make this interesting,' he invited. 'Shirt and pants.'
'Are you sure you want to do that, Buck?'
'Don't tell me you're not man enough.'
Ezra's gold tooth flashed in the firelight. 'I suspect you will be finding out how much of a man I am shortly. As to the wager, I feel confident it will be your shirt and pants.'
Buck bit his lip as he took another card. A queen. Just what he needed to keep his other lady company.
Ezra studied his friend's face in amusement. Buck would never make a professional gambler for many reasons, lack of concentration and self-discipline among them, but the transparency of the emotions passing across his face was the biggest obstacle. Ezra picked up the stir of anticipation when he looked at his cards but the doubt that followed it told him the hand was not a sure-fire winner. Now he saw that the new card had moved it up a grade. He surveyed his own cards thoughtfully.
'I think perhaps I should like to see you, Mr Wilmington.'
Buck looked triumphant as he spread out the three tens. After pausing a moment for dramatic effect, he placed the two queens alongside.
'An impressive hand,' Ezra conceded.
Buck knew him too well to celebrate ahead of time. 'Let's see yours then.'
'I regret to inform you that my cards are all you will be seeing in the near future.'
Buck's jaw dropped as Ezra laid one card at a time onto the thick crimson tablecloth.
'Two, two, two…' Ezra's tooth glinted again. 'And, yes, another two. Your shirt and pants, sir.'
'Shit. How do you do that? On my deal an'all.'
He got to his feet, unbuttoned his flies and pulled off his pants, grumbling all the while. He had to take off his vest to shed the shirt but quickly put the garment back on again afterwards.
Ezra ran his eyes over the long, lean frame. The underclothes were hardly glamorous but were at least relatively clean. His head told him that the vest on top of them was ludicrous but the message arriving from his loins disagreed. He shifted in his chair, wondering whether he'd have done better to lose the hand: who wanted pants when they served only to cut off one's circulation?
Once that thought had taken root, Ezra began to cheat for real. Up until then, he had been using only a small selection from his armory of tricks. Now he dealt Buck a flush and himself a measly two pair. Down by six hands, Buck had no doubt that Ezra was playing to win and was surprised that he hadn't cheated on the deal. It did not occur to him that Ezra would cheat to lose.
When he showed the hand, his glance at Ezra was gleeful. 'C'mon. Let's have somethin'.'
Ezra had rarely felt the fondness that he did then, seeing the pleasure that the small sacrifice gave his friend. He took out his cufflinks and set them on the table.
'Hell, Ezra. They're not clothes.'
The jade eyes twinkled while their owner removed his arm garters and set those beside the jewels.
'Never thought 'bout how many clothes you wear when we started this,' Buck complained.
Ezra stood, removed his tie and unbuttoned his vest and shirt. Draping the shirt gracefully over the back of his chair and replacing his vest, he smiled at Buck. 'More than you deserve for a low flush.'
Buck eyed his opponent thoughtfully while he dealt. He'd had sex with a few men over the years but never spent an evening with one in the same way as he would with a woman. It had always been a substitute for something that was not immediately available. Although he'd begun this encounter under the same pretext, it was a lie. Even he, Buck Wilmington, could survive without a woman for a few weeks. He was doing this because he wanted to and he'd despise himself later if he lied to himself or Ezra about that. He looked at Ezra's clean white undershirt and the clearly defined muscles beneath it.
'Is there a problem, Buck?' The southern drawl was softer than he'd ever heard it.
Buck picked up his cards. 'No, no problem.'
His cards were useless, an instant fold if there was a pot in which to forfeit interest but they were playing simple win or lose. Ezra's cards were little better but a pair beat nothing at all. Buck tossed his vest on top of his shirt on the floor behind him.
Both men's attention was wandering now. Ezra's cock still strained against his pants, while Buck's stood proud in the comparative freedom of his drawers. Buck's aim in suggesting the game was to stave off awkwardness: he'd used it with younger girls who felt embarrassed at stripping for him. Now that he was nearly naked, with his interest declared as clearly as it needed to be, he no longer felt inclined to delay.
Ezra had been shuffling the deck in readiness to deal but now sensed Buck's change in mood and set the cards to one side. Stepping behind Buck, he took a deep breath, looked down on his friend's head for a moment, then slipped his arms around the man's neck and pressed his face into the shiny brown hair.
Buck accepted the contact, still uncomfortable at a degree of intimacy he had never shared with a man but determined to deliver the kind of experience Ezra expected and not the kind that he himself had known before. When Ezra's hands found the hem of his undershirt, Buck raised his arms to let him pull it off. Soft hands smoothed his chest hair, following it down to the waistband of his drawers but not breaching their protection.
It wasn't until Buck found himself wishing that Ezra would slide his hands down further that he knew without a doubt he wanted to go through with it. He stood to face Ezra, smiled reassuringly and slipped off the man's embroidered vest. As a mark of respect, he folded it neatly and laid it on the table instead of throwing it to the floor with his own clothes.
Ezra met his companion's smile, confident at last that they both wanted to go where they were going and would still be friends afterwards. He pulled his undershirt over his head, revealing the sculptural perfection of his own hairless torso. Buck unbuttoned Ezra's pants for him, dropping them swiftly, and they took off their drawers together, mirroring one another's actions.
Buck faced up to the moment he had dreaded, looking full on at another man's cock instead of fumbling behind him in the darkness. He tried to subjugate his competitive instincts but part of him still wanted to see how he compared with the new standard. It was Ezra who now offered reassurance.
'There is no call for concern. Yours is the larger.'
'I wasn't…' Buck was humiliated to see his thoughts read so easily.
'Every man worries about such things.'
He put a friendly hand on Buck's shoulder. Buck leaned into the contact and studied their cocks less uneasily. His was indeed a half-inch longer but thinner too. Ezra's had a pleasing sturdiness about it.
'I believe you'll find it's what we do with them that counts.'
Ezra stepped closer and put his arms around Buck's waist, pulling him nearer. The difference in their heights put Buck's cock against his stomach and he pressed himself against it. He looked up to see a touching shyness in the normally brazen gaze. Ezra waited, wanting a kiss but leaving it for the other man to offer. Buck stooped to brush Ezra's lips with his own, trying to be casual for fear that he would not be able to stand it. The twitch at his crotch told them both that he had enjoyed the touch. Ezra slid an arm around Buck's neck and pulled his mouth down to cover his own.
It was as if they had both been waiting for a starting flag.
Buck enveloped the smaller man in his long arms and extended the contact from their entwined tongues, down their bodies, through their legs and even to their toes. He walked them over to the couch and sat down so that his face was level with Ezra's groin. He held his hands as if praying but an inch or two apart, then ran them experimentally down the man's shaft. Liberated from his inhibitions, he inspected its root in the sparse patch of reddish-brown hair and then cupped the full balls in one palm while rolling the foreskin tentatively with the finger and thumb of his other hand.
'Never done this,' he told Ezra softly.
'We can exchange positions if you would prefer.'
The irrepressible grin was back when Buck looked up at him. 'Reckon we were figurin' on makin' a night of it.'
Ezra took his meaning. They would each be doing everything that could be done over the next twelve hours or so. It made little difference who started where. He sighed in contentment at that prospect and ran his fingers through Buck's hair. The luxuriant thatch was one of the things he found most appealing about the man and playing with it now heightened his anticipation of the coming intimacy.
Buck spread the fluid seeping from Ezra's cock over its head, then licked it off slowly. Each time he cleaned it, another drop appeared. He teased like that for a while, tasting the tears and feeling his own cock weep in response. It seemed totally natural to take the next step and slip the shaft into his mouth. He thought of a woman back in Kansas City who'd sucked him like no other, before or since, and tried to replicate for Ezra exactly what she had done for him. Judging by the man's moans, he was doing something right. He reached down, coating the first finger of his right hand with his own pre-cum, and then ran it along Ezra's crack until he found his asshole. He stimulated the sensitive opening, knowing how much he liked that himself. He felt Ezra's fingers tighten in his hair and the muscles of his abdomen knot against his forehead. A moment later, the bitter salt of cum hit the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, sucking and licking until the last trace was gone.
A moment or two passed.
'I would never have known.'
'Known what?'
'That you hadn't done it before.'
Buck answered with one of his favorite sayings. 'I learned from the best.'
'I don't doubt it.' Ezra sat beside Buck and drew him into a deep kiss, sampling the flavor of himself in the mouth of this most masculine of men. He ran a hand over Buck's cock. It was as hard as ever: clearly blowing a man had been no turnoff. Ezra strolled casually over to the nightstand and picked up a small jar of cream.
'You came prepared?' Buck asked in disbelief.
Ezra shook his head, clearly amused, and held up his hands. 'I'm sure it will afford you considerable mirth but one in my line of work does well to maximize his tactile sensitivity, which is not best served by dry skin and calluses.'
There was no malice in Buck's grin. He'd be a fool to laugh at a man who made more money than the rest of their number put together. Ezra returned to his side, handed over the jar and then lay back with his head on the arm of the couch. Buck studied him again. He was really quite beautiful: those startling green eyes, better skin than many women and an innate grace that made his every movement seem like a step from a dance. Buck scooped out a little of the cream, knelt between Ezra's drawn-up legs and began to massage his chest.
'I realize you are new to this but that is not the customary application for such lubricants.'
Another grin in reply. 'Funny guy. It's my turn, isn't it? Can do what I like, can't I?'
'Indeed you may.' Ezra sighed. 'I confess that this is very soothing.'
'You got a good body, Ezra.'
'Thank you.'
A drop fell from the tip of Buck's cock onto Ezra's stomach, trailing a silky thread behind it.
'You find this stimulating?'
Buck nodded. 'Y'might say I'm a breast man. Never figured on bein' a chest man but it's not so different.' Ezra's well-developed pectoral muscles were indeed a masculine equivalent of a woman's breasts. Their oiled contours glistened in the flickering light of the flames.
When he was satisfied that his cock was about as hard as it could get, Buck dipped into the jar again and transferred his attentions to Ezra's ass. Sliding a cushion underneath his butt to raise him up a bit, he spread the cream around the opening.
Ezra watched his friend's face for a minute.
'May I ask what is engaging your concentration so thoroughly?'
Buck started. 'Just lookin'. Not somethin' a man usually sees up close. Guess he's lookin' at other things when he's with a woman.' He hesitated, then continued, 'Kinda looks like the sun on a hazy day, rays all round it.'
'You have an unexpectedly lyrical aspect to your nature in the boudoir, Buck. I begin to understand how so many ladies fall prey to your charms.'
'Seems like you fell prey to 'em too.'
'Tru-' Ezra's response was cut off by a gasp as Buck's finger slid into him. Moments later, it was joined by a second. He closed his eyes, submitting totally to the experience. He wasn't ready to come again yet and that wasn't what he wanted now. He wanted to be taken by - no, taken care of by - this man.
Buck checked his lover's face, saw the tranquility there and understood the role he'd been assigned. He withdrew his fingers, substituted his thighs for the cushion and pressed his creamed cock to the center of the sun. This was another first: he'd never fucked a man while looking at him and was surprised now to find that the prospect made his cock swell in anticipation rather than shrivel in dread. He increased the pressure a fraction and slid the head easily inside. He paused for a moment, taking in the strange sight of a second cock lying above his own. Ezra's was awakening again and now uncoiled of its own accord to lie pointing towards his navel. Buck stroked it tenderly.
'You want…?' he asked Ezra.
'Just hold me.' The man's voice was dreamy.
Buck took the half-erect cock in one hand, cradled the man's balls with the other and then began to move his own swollen flesh in smooth strokes, first burying its full length and then withdrawing until only the tip remained inside. As his pleasure mounted, the strokes became shorter and faster. He panted as his climax approached, groaned as it bit and then collapsed onto Ezra. He'd tried to be gentler with the man's ass than he would with a woman's cunt but knew that his final thrust had rammed home hard.
'Sorry… didn't mean… to be… so rough…'
Ezra smiled and embraced him fondly. 'I have experienced rougher.' His tone hinted at something barbaric.
Buck cleared his throat. 'Yeah, well, I don't reckon on that.'
'I know.' The voice was as soothing as the cream. 'But a certain degree of robustness can be invigorating.'
Buck grinned at a distant memory, then saw Ezra's inquiring look. 'Was a woman, way back, used to do me up the ass with an ol' rubber handle while I was screwin' her. That got pretty rough but I never had better.'
He got up unselfconsciously, tossed a couple of logs on the fire and wandered over to the table. Bringing back the bottle and glasses, he sat beside Ezra and passed him a drink.
'Thanks, Ezra. This is a hell of a lot better'an sittin' down there feelin' sorry for myself. I'da never got up the front t'ask you, even if I'da thought.'
'You hadn't entertained this possibility then?'
The other man rested his elbows on his knees and gazed into the fire. 'Nope. Only ever done this when there was no other game in town. Always in the dark. Always from the back.' There was no conceit in the words. Those encounters now seemed far shabbier than what he was sharing with Ezra. 'You done it much?'
Ezra stretched out more comfortably, crooking an arm behind his head and matching Buck's scrutiny of the fire. 'I have been with as many men as women but, by your standards, not with so many of either.'
Buck leaned back into the other corner of the couch, tucking his toes under Ezra's butt. 'Was a time I'da never guessed it but I reckon you're a bit of a romantic at heart.'
'Hardly. I suspect Mr Tanner, our resident poet, occupies that niche.'
Buck nodded his acceptance of that point. 'Maybe so but that don't mean you're not. Nothin' to be ashamed of. Anyhow,' his expression was serious, 'You're a good friend and a better one for tonight.'
Ezra hesitated to open his soul to anyone but finally said softly, 'Your friendship is one of my most valued assets, Buck.'
'Cuts both ways.'
They lay like that in the firelight for a while, not even noticing the poor whiskey in the afterglow of good loving.
'Christmas mean much to you, Ezra?'
The gambler pondered the question through another glass of whiskey.
'Not a great deal. Too many memories, waiting for Mother to come back to me, wondering why she hardly ever did. Aunts and uncles attempting to compensate…' His voice faded away and Buck rested a comforting hand on his knee. 'And to you?'
'You wouldn't think so but yeah, Christmas is a good time in a whorehouse. Get a busy run up to it so they're all flush but it's quiet come the big day 'cause nigh on everyone's home with their folks. Even them as don't have family mostly don't wanna spend Christmas Day with a working girl. There was a few of us kids and the girls spoiled us rotten, truth be told.'
Ezra nodded thoughtfully. 'I have often reflected that our little band is a product of curious circumstances… our own histories and proclivities, of course, but the others too. Tyrannical missionary fathers… slavery… bereavement… bounties… only young JD seems to have chosen his current station in life.'
'Shit sticks together.'
'I am inclined to prefer the phrase "birds of a feather…"'
'Whatever.'
'Returning to your original question, I have the suspicion that this Christmas will occupy a special place in my memories. I find I no longer have any interest in retribution for the subterfuge that brought us here.'
Buck considered that, found he agreed and shifted back to sit by Ezra's legs. 'Ready f'bed?'
'Only if you intend to stay.'
'I'll just…'
'Quite so.'
Half-dressed, Buck went next door to use the pot in his own room, giving Ezra the privacy he knew the man preferred. When he returned, Ezra was already in bed, the covers folded neatly across his stomach. Buck locked the door behind him, stoked the fire and extinguished the lamp. Ezra watched his every move, his hands resting on the counterpane, either side of a distinct bulge that announced he was once again ready to entertain his lover.
Buck shed his boots and pants again and slipped into bed. With room to stretch out properly, they moved into a firm embrace and spread kisses over each other, beginning fondly and building slowly in intensity. Ezra rolled Buck onto his back and explored his mouth, using his tongue to trace every last detail. When he could discover no more, he shifted down to investigate the contours of Buck's cock… kissing… stroking… sucking. He ran his tongue round to the puckered opening that Buck had so surprisingly likened to the sun, noted that there was indeed a resemblance of sorts, and then began to probe it.
Buck shifted his hips forward a fraction, making himself more available to Ezra's touch. The flickering tongue was tantalizing but the fingers that followed it were a thrill apart. He relaxed into the contact, letting his body respond just as he would with a woman. He'd never been the passive partner in any of his contacts with men but had no qualms now: the thought of Ezra's cock in his ass was infinitely more exciting than a rubber handle… and that had been pretty damned good.
He reached for the jar of cream beside the open pocketwatch on the nightstand and then lingered over coating Ezra's cock, savoring the gratification he saw on the man's face. Finally, Ezra dipped his fingers into the cream and prepared Buck's ass with the same care. He lifted Buck onto his hands and knees and laid a towel across the bed underneath him.
Ezra entered Buck from behind but there was nothing furtive or sordid about it. His hands traced the man's back muscles affectionately, emphasizing that the encounter was about far more than sex. Not until he was content that he had conveyed every ounce of the warmth and friendship that flooded through him did Ezra transfer his hand to Buck's cock and begin to tug it in time to his thrusts.
His lovemaking was gentler than Buck's, as he sought to keep a steady rhythm for as long as he possibly could, holding back his orgasm until the last moment. He maintained iron control until he felt Buck swell between his thumb and forefinger. Only on that signal did he permit the pent-up passion to overwhelm him. They choked back their groans, not needing to tell the whole hotel what they were about.
In the seconds of silence following their first shared climax, the pocketwatch chimed midnight.
Ezra reluctantly surrendered the warm embrace of Buck's ass, swept away the towel and turned his lover over. Lying snug against him, he kissed the man's cheek and whispered in his ear. 'Merry Christmas, Buck.'
An arm snaked around his shoulders and pulled him closer still. 'You too, Ez. Looks like I got spoiled rotten again. Thanks.'