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“By the time I was old enough to remember anything, we already lived in the Moon Projects.” Fal’ran’s movements over Patrick’s hand smoothed out again. “Dad was already a drunk. Already hated me. No one ever told me they believed in me, until you did.”
Patrick’s throat ached as he tucked Fal’ran in close. “I’m sorry no one said that to you before.” He rested his chin on Fal’ran’s shoulder and looked down his chest to their hands together. “People can be blind.” He pictured a young Fal’ran, driven, ambitious, eager for praise, being slapped down by the man supposed to build him up. “And stupid and cruel.”
“They can.” Fal’ran turned his face to Patrick until their cheeks touched, Fal’ran’s tusk brushing over the corner of Patrick’s lips. “You’re not though.”
Foolish embarrassment turned Patrick’s stomach cold. He didn’t need to be embarrassed. He wasn’t deluding himself into thinking he could have a genuine relationship with Fal’ran. He was a stepping stone. Giving Fal’ran what he needed when he needed it. He knew Fal’ran had a poor home life. He knew he was older and in a position of authority. He knew he was the first to give Fal’ran praise and encouragement and that that affected Fal’ran’s interest in him.
“Stop that.” Fal’ran grabbed the outside of Patrick’s thigh and hiked it up around his waist.
Patrick gasped as his hips pressed against Fal’ran’s lower back, sparking a heat that had been so responsibly repressed by concerned affection. “Stop what?”
“I’m not looking for a father figure.” Fal’ran dug his fingers into the meat of Patrick’s thigh. “But I can smell you back there making that excuse.”
“It…” Patrick swallowed. “It would be a natural reaction.”
Fal’ran rumbled threateningly and slid his hand up Patrick’s thigh. “The things I want to do with you are not the things anyone wants to do with their father.”
Patrick smothered the embarrassing squeak in his throat.
“And I can smell how much you want to do them, too.” Fal’ran reached his head back and closed his sharp teeth on the lobe of Patrick’s ear.
“We’re—” in public, Patrick was going to say, before Fal’ran arched his back to work his hand between them. He groaned as Fal’ran worried his ear and rubbed his palm over Patrick’s swelling length. He had only the vaguest idea of what things Fal’ran wanted to do, but Fal’ran was right that Patrick overwhelmingly wanted to do them.
“You said you didn’t regret it.” Fal’ran guided Patrick’s hand between his thighs and Patrick’s body jolted as he watched himself grab Fal’ran through his pants. “Oh, fuck. You meant it?”
“I meant it.” Patrick stared with that same overwhelming awe and possessiveness from the night before as he worked the heel of his palm over Fal’ran’s hips and Fal’ran’s cock hardened under the fabric. He did that to Fal’ran. “God, I meant it.”
“Thank fuck.” Fal’ran tried to turn, but that would take away Patrick’s angle, so Patrick clamped his free arm across Fal’ran’s chest.
“No. Let me.” Patrick hooked both legs around Fal’ran’s, holding him down. He increased the pace of his hand over Fal’ran's length, and Fal’ran bucked in his grasp. “You can call time.”
“Fuck that.” Fal’ran bucked again with enough force to make Patrick tighten his grip. “I’m not calling anything.”
Shit, maybe Patrick had more than a vague idea of what he wanted after all. He wrapped an arm around Fal’ran’s collarbones, too far from his throat to choke him, but close enough to threaten it. Fal’ran groaned and grabbed Patrick’s forearm with both hands. Patrick firmed his legs around Fal’ran’s, stretching him out across Patrick’s front, and popped the button on Fal’ran’s pants.
“Yes. Patrick.” Fal’ran’s hips thrust up, and he turned his nose into Patrick’s neck as he struggled. Patrick’s hand shook as he ripped Fal’ran’s zipper down. His muscles strained to keep Fal’ran in position and his blood sizzled with the effort.
This man was his. Willingly his, so long as Patrick had the strength and skill to hold him. And Patrick had that. If strength was what he needed to make Fal’ran quiver and pant, he’d find the strength to move fucking planets. He shoved Fal’ran’s open pants and underwear off Fal’ran’s squirming hips and his thick cock slapped against his hard stomach.
Patrick’s mouth watered and he growled into Fal’ran’s ear. “There you are.”
Fal’ran’s cock, flushed red and hot with blood, burned Patrick’s hand when he wrapped his palm around it. The sensitive skin caught on Patrick’s rough callouses, and Fal’ran whined.
God fucking damn holy shit, Patrick couldn’t believe his eyes. Maybe it was his brain’s lack of blood supply, or maybe it was his hand wrapped around Fal’ran’s length, but his head spun. A desperate sob caught in his throat as he spread a bead of precum around Fal’ran’s cock head.
Patrick had written himself off years ago. He’d given up on ever finding a man who’d want this from him. It was lewd and pathetic, but he’d never thought he’d see his own hand on any cock but his own. And now Fal’ran writhed in his arms, his sharp teeth on his neck.
“You’re gonna leave a mark.” Patrick panted into Fal’ran’s ear as he dropped his hand between Fal’ran’s thighs to cup his pulsing balls.
“Good.” Fal’ran bit harder and Patrick cried out, squeezing Fal’ran’s sack. “I want to see it in the morning.”
“You want to see it and think about what I did to you?” Patrick tugged Fal’ran’s sack away from his body until the younger man twisted and whimpered. “How I had you out here in the open, begging and struggling?”
Where the hell did the words come from? Patrick returned his attention to Fal’ran’s twitching length and worked another spurt of precum out of it. He didn’t know what prompted the filth pouring from his mouth, only that it made him hard and frantic and made Fal’ran’s cock kick in his hand.
“How I held you down and made you come all over yourself?” Patrick licked the shell of Fal’ran’s ear and nipped it hard when his words spurred Fal’ran into a fresh struggle. The klah’eel ripped Patrick’s forearm from his neck, so Patrick dropped his shoulder to twist the motion. He trapped Fal’ran’s neck in the crook of his elbow.
“Fuck, yeah, I want to see it and I want everyone else to see it, too.” Fal’ran's eyes squeezed shut as his hips pumped into Patrick’s fist.
