Page 107 of See My Words

“Please, Ry,” he gasped. “Please.”

Rylan took him deep into his throat, working the shaft with his hand as he bobbed up and down, sucking on the head on the upstroke. Scott let go of the couch and threaded his fingers through Rylan’s hair, holding him still and thrusting hard.

Rylan took every inch, using the saliva that ran down Scott’s cock to slick his fingers up and delve them into his cleft. Scott groaned and spread his legs wider as Rylan teased his hole with a fingertip, circling the sensitive opening over and over until he slid inside.

Scott moaned at the stretch and burn, and Rylan came off his dick with a pop of released suction. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he rasped. “So fucking hot and tight.”

He went back to work on Scott’s tip, and when Rylan pushed a second finger deep, Scott exploded with a long, low moan. He panted, watching greedily as ropes of jizz flooded into Rylan’s mouth, coating his tongue. Rylan swallowed it all, squeezing the head to force out every drop, dropping his forehead to Scott’s thigh.

Scott’s breaths were coming in gusts, chest heaving, and he hauled Rylan up to the couch, laying him on his back. He yanked Rylan’s pants off and threw them to the side before shoving Rylan’s knees to his chest, spreading him wide.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Scott growled. “A Rylan feast, all for me.”

With lips, tongue, and hands, he soon had Rylan writhing and begging him to come, and it didn’t take long before Scott was drinking him down with low groans of appreciation, reveling in Rylan’s gasping cries. He mouthed his way back up Rylan’s body, settling between his legs, their damp cocks nestling together as they kissed and licked each other clean.

When they calmed, Scott snagged an afghan from the back of the couch and spread it over them, settling against Rylan with a sigh. “So good, Ry,” he whispered. “I missed you.”

Rylan ran his hands up and down Scott’s back. “Missed you more,” he murmured drowsily. “Love you.”

Scott buried his face in Rylan’s neck, and Rylan drifted off into a light doze. Scott didn’t sleep, just listened to him breathe, feeling Rylan’s heart beating slow and steady beneath his cheek.

He lifted his head, leaning down to feather his lips over Rylan’s. “Ry?”

Rylan dragged his eyes open. “Mmm?” He stretched, and Scott kissed him again, gently.

“Where do you go from here? Professionally, I mean.” He took a deep breath before asking the question he was dreading the answer to. “When are you leaving again?”

Rylan closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything for a moment. “I don’t know, Scott. I—I just don’t know.”

Scott lifted himself off Rylan and helped him sit up, too. “Talk to me, Ry.”

Rylan swallowed hard, twisting his fingers together. Scott just waited, resting his hand on the back of Rylan’s neck, his thumb moving in soothing circles.

“These last few months have been—indescribable, Scott. Indescribably wonderful, and indescribably awful. The things I saw, the things I heard—” He trailed off, his blue eyes distant. “I’m not sure that type of work is for me. I feel—I feel things too much.”

Scott squeezed the back of his neck gently.

“It was completely overwhelming.” He sagged back against the couch, and Scott let his hand fall away, reaching down to cover Rylan’s fingers with his. Rylan turned his palm up and held onto him tightly. “Chris is done. He said the fire in his belly for conflict photography has gone out, and all he wants to do is build a life here with Minh.” He smiled faintly. “He’s going to open his own photography studio down in the Valley.”

Scott chuckled. “With a fabulous drag queen as his first subject, I’m sure.”

Rylan’s cheeks took on a faint red tinge. “Oh God. There were lots of times over there when we were in a holding pattern, waiting for drivers, or permission to enter a certain area. He showed me some of the pictures he’d taken of himself and Minh that last week before we left, and all I can say is wow. I think boudoir photography might be his next specialty.”

“Got an eyeful, huh?” Scott teased him, and Rylan chuckled.

“Oh, they were tasteful, but at the same time so fucking erotic. I felt like I was watching them make love.”

“Mmm. So maybe go into business with him?” Scott said tentatively.

Rylan gave a helpless shrug. “Maybe. Studio work is something I don’t have much interest in, though. I just—I just feel so directionless right now, Scott. I don’t know what I wanna do.”

Scott squeezed his hand. “You’ll figure it out, baby. And I’ll support you with whatever you decide, I hope you know that.”

“I know.” Rylan put his head on Scott’s shoulder. “At least I have a little breathing room, since a couple of my photos ended up being somewhat successful. For the first time in a long time, my bank account isn’t just chirping crickets.” He paused. “I do have some ideas I’m trying to work through.”

Scott listened as he told him about Maya, a trans woman he’d befriended down in Phoenix. “She’s launching her own website soon, and I said I’d help her with that. The trans women in custody, in immigration detention, I might see if there’s anything I can do to work with her on raising awareness and bringing those issues to light.”

“So you’re not directionless, Ry. You’re just taking stock. It’s okay.” He kissed Rylan’s temple. “And of course I don’t want you to leave again, go back out into the field, but if you—”