His eyes fell on Seth's box of enemas when he was finished, and he set two on the counter. It was always good to be prepared.
Dealing with the band had been like dealing with a bunch of hormonal twelve-year-old girls. The lead singer had slapped the guitarist across the face, and they all started screaming at each other. It wouldn't have been so bad if the massive blowout hadn't just so happened to occur in the middle of a public place. Seth had only just managed to get one of the members to retract his statement about quitting the band when television crews showed up.
The poor manager was going to be doing a lot of damage control. Luckily, Seth's contract was over and he didn't have to think about it any longer. He had his check, his bags, his plane ticket. His keyboard had been lost in the previous night's events, but the manager had given him a hefty sum to compensate. He wasn't upset. He was going home to his baby grand and his husband.
Home. The word was still as sweet as chocolate in his mind. The wait was making him anxious. He'd had no sleep, no time to clean up, and the airplane was too crowded and noisy for him to relax. He'd tried to keep himself steady without the pain, but it was getting harder and harder the longer he was away from Curtis. As much as he enjoyed touring with a rock band and playing his heart out on stage, he didn't want to do it again without Curtis by his side. It had been too much. He'd get to Curtis soon, and then the world would be right. Perhaps he'd be willing to accept a tour next summer, when Curtis could go too, but not before. He'd been away from his lover, his husband, his sanity, for too long.
For his first flight, he was stuck behind twin infants. They were adorable, but they screamed a lot. He made a mental note to question Curtis about any desire to attempt adoption. He'd never been a big kid person, but the flight had cured him of any latent desires for babies. He didn't think he'd have the patience to be a good dad.
For the second flight, he was next to an obnoxiously talkative woman who kept asking questions about his scar. He'd tried being polite. When that failed, he then tried to ignore her. When she got all huffy and started to hiss at him about his manners, he threw in his earbuds and turned on his mp3 player, cranking Camille Saint-Saens's Danse Macabre. It was an appropriate enough choice for that time of year.
He broke into his bag of candy corn and moaned pornographically at the taste of the waxy sugar. Madame Obnoxious gave him a scandalized look, but it finally stopped her from talking.
As soon as they let him off the plane, he'd booked it out of Des Moines's tiny terminal as fast as he could. He passed security and got stuck behind a large group of people on the lone escalator. He glanced around as he descended, the mechanical stairway going agonizingly slow. A small seating area was directly below him, and as he finally stepped off the stairs, he caught a flash of gold and freckles.
"Seth!" Curtis had him up off the floor, twirling around and laughing before Seth could see his husband properly.
"Holy hell, Curt, put me down!" Seth giggled. Curtis did, but he kept the younger man flush against him as he leaned down for a scorching kiss. Seth could see the obnoxious woman from his flight looking utterly shocked out of the corner of his eye, and then he forgot the rest of the world. Eyelids closed. Tongues battled for dominance. Hands groped, kneaded, brushed, stroked-- and then they broke away in gasps. Seth grinned up at Curtis, basking in the heat of strong arms.
"God, I missed you." Curtis leaned down for a quick peck as they walked toward the baggage claim.
"Not as much as I missed you," Seth said quietly.
"Derek said you were stressing." Curtis's eyes flicker over his exposed skin. "I was under the impression that it was doing good things for you."
"I think it was too much, Curtis."
"Explain it to me?" Seth could hear the worry seeping into Curtis's rasping voice.
"It was good and bad. I was getting pretty desperate toward the end, wanting the pain--" he held up a hand as Curtis's mouth opened. "Hear me out. I couldn't handle the band, and they dragged me into a lot of shit I wasn't ready to deal with. Seth's friend Casey was great, but the other guys had a hard time with the fact I was gay. Travis took it personally. I had a lot of nasty comments thrown my way, and you know how good I am with unwanted confrontation. Travis even went as far as to hire a hooker and shove her into my hotel room a few nights into the tour."
Curtis winced. "Seriously? They knew you were married. Why the hell did he--"
"It's California, and Travis thought it was disgusting. To him, our marriage isn't authentic." Seth could see Curtis's face redden and contort. "It pissed me off too, and he learned pretty quickly how upset the little fag could get when you step on his toes."
Curtis had to chuckle at that.
"I bet he loved that, didn't he?"
"Oh, he most definitely did. He tried to fire me after I went off on his ass, but the manager kindly informed him that it was either me or nobody. They didn't have time to find another pianist who knew the songs that late in the game."
Curtis narrowed his eyes. Seth knew he would be in trouble for not talking about that incident during their nightly conversations. He'd glossed it over and gone for the phone sex. It was what he'd lived for, when he wasn't lost in the music. Curtis's voice could make Seth orgasm, even if he was just reading the dictionary.
"So tell me about the good parts."
"I'm no longer scared shitless of stages," Seth said, ticking off one finger. "Sam will be absolutely thrilled about that. I can handle an audience if I'm not the only one stared at. I've learned to use a synthesizer. I am now the proud owner of tight leather pants. I'm handling questions about my scars a bit better than I used to, since I was asked pretty much on a daily basis. The rush of playing live in front of so many people was incredible, Curtis." Seth grinned. "It'll always scare me shitless, but after getting thrown on stage for a week straight, I lost most of my inhibitions."
Curtis pulled him into his arms again, holding him tightly as the noises of the little airport swirled and surged around them.
"I'm so glad," Curtis whispered.
"I'm not going to do it again unless you're able to go," Seth said as he pulled away from Curtis's tight grip and snagged his bags from the conveyor. "At the end, I was working as damage control and peace maker. I'm not wired for either job, and I took it pretty hard. I need you around when I get bad, Curt. I can't do it on my own."
Curt lifted both large suitcases and nudged Seth along, herding him across the street to the parking garage.
"Did you eat lunch?" he asked as Seth tossed his backpack in the back seat of the jeep.
"I ate more candy corn than I care to reveal this morning, so I'm not particularly hungry." Seth laughed. "I've pretty much been living on a steady diet of mallowcreme pumpkins since the middle of September. I haven't had anyone to cook for me, and the band wasn't particularly health-conscious."
"Damn," Curtis grunted. "How the hell did you stay skinny, boy?"
"When the only sustenance you consume before a two-hour show that involves a lot of sweating and jumping around is pure sugar and caffeine, you'd lose weight too." Seth laughed and reached for Curtis, pushing him against the side of the jeep and leaning into him for the barest touch of lips. He missed the feel of Curtis, the muscles and smooth, freckled skin beneath his palms. He pressed the erection he'd sported since their first hug into Curtis's thigh. He wanted his husband to know exactly how much he wanted him.
Curtis was hard, too. His lips feathered across Seth's in a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss that speaks of love and endearment and forever, but his big hands reached around and clutched Seth's ass roughly. The combination of barest touch and rough grind was enough to drive both of them toward the edge.
Seth pulled away, a huge grin splitting his face. Curtis reached up and traced the raised scar down Seth's cheek before running a thumb across his plump lips.
"Let's get something with vitamins in you before we go home," Curtis whispered. "You'll need the energy tonight."
Seth was quiet in the restaurant, but he was fidgeting more than the six-year-old boy in the booth next to them.
"What's up?" Curtis asked, narrowing his eyes and rubbing a hunk of bread around the empty plate, sweeping up the last remnants of steak.
"I'm... nervous," Seth said, tipping his head to one side and squinting back at Curtis. "It's been two months, after over three and a half years of always being together. It was hard being apart, and I didn't expect to be nervous getting back together."
"We can always aim for a quickie in the bathroom, if it'll calm your nerves." Curtis winked. "Though once I bury myself inside you, I won't be letting you go for hours. Doing so where we won't get arrested is probably best. Derek would have to fly in and bail us out."
Seth chuckled and stole Curtis's bread, nibbling on the juice-soaked portion until they got the check.
They'd barely gotten outside city limits before Seth's hand landed squarely on Curtis's crotch. The jeans he was wearing were tight enough and he was hard enough to give Seth plenty to feel. The delicate, long-fingered hand was taking full advantage of his half-concentration, his inability to jerk away, and his intolerable need for release.
Curtis glared at Seth, but the raven-haired man wasn't even looking at him. His head was turned the other direction, his gaze lost out the window to cornfields ready for harvest, leaves changing colors, and the inevitable cow pasture.
"I missed this," Seth sighed, tracing the outline of Curtis's cock. "The midwest has an entirely different type of attraction than either coast. I never quite realized how beautiful the countryside was until now."
Curtis grunted. It was all he could manage when skillful digits were sliding his zipper down. Seth was running the show entirely on tactile sensation. Curtis reveled in the touch, shivering slightly as his thick erection was released into the chill October air. Seth grabbed him firmly and gave him a few dry strokes.
"You'd better stop that or we'll crash," Curtis gasped. Seth ignored him, continuing to stare out the window. His hand pulled back for a few seconds before he began to trace veins with the tips of his fingers.
"You want to know the thing I missed most about this particular state?" Seth asked, working up the underside of Curtis's cock with the edges of his nails. Curtis swerved and swore before getting the jeep under control again.
"Stop it!" he rasped.
"I missed the deserted gravel roads," Seth said, turning toward his husband with a wicked grin. "Tomorrow is Halloween, Curtis. Trick or treat?"
Curtis just stared. Someone had switched his sweet, typically submissive husband for someone new. Sure, Seth had topped him before-- Seth had been the only man he'd ever let top him, and he didn't mind it-- but to date all their experiences had been Curtis teaching Seth what to do and how to do it properly while Seth asked questions. Seth had always been more comfortable as the punished, the fucked, the dominated, so Curtis almost always took control. At best, they shared control.
Seth in control? The thought made Curtis so hard he could hardly remember the road.
"So this is what Derek was talking about last night. You aren't possessed again, are you?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Hardly, love. Just answer the question. It makes all the difference in what I do to you."
"What if I want both?" Curtis asked in a whisper.
"Choose." It was demand if Curtis had ever heard one.
"Treat," he breathed.
"Turn off," Seth ordered. His voice was short, sharp, the kind of voice that made Curtis tingle in anticipation.
He hoped, desperately, that he was right about Seth's mood. He turned onto the next gravel road and got them well and truly lost in a matter of minutes.
They pulled over, and Seth was on Curtis before he could shut off the engine. He fumbled with the keys, got the car turned off, and was lost beneath Seth's groping limbs almost immediately. His shirt was unbuttoned, cold air blasting his sensitive nipples before a hot mouth covered one and pinching fingers found the other. Seth managed to keep up a constant stroking, sweeping his hand up Curtis's hot cock, twisting around the head, and dropping back down to the root. Curtis spared all of half a second in amazement before sinking under the assault. Seth set in motion a three-pronged attack, and Curtis's poor mind was ready to short out at the bombardment of sensations.
"Oh, God." Curtis felt Seth's teeth digging into the skin, worrying the tight nub with just enough pressure to force Curtis into dancing along the pleasure/pain line. Pain was typically Seth's kink, but Seth had taken control and Curtis was willing to let it go as far as his lover wanted it to. Seth knew where Curtis's limits were for activities they'd tried before, and could accurately guess where they were for most of what they hadn't. Curtis trusted him completely.
He was eager to see where this went.
Seth pushed Curtis along the precarious edge, switching between nipples and laving at the teeth marks he left behind, tongue trailing fire. The hand on his cock stilled.
"Move to the back." Seth whispered against Curtis's bared skin. "I've been having these fantasies of you on your hands and knees."
Curtis shuffled through a delightful range of mental images before he realized Seth's body heat was gone. He turned just in time to see a pert ass in form-fitting jeans sticking from between the seats as his husband wiggled into the cargo area. The back seats had been folded down in anticipation for Seth's luggage, and Seth's pushed his two suitcases as far out of the way as possible. The cargo area was large in comparison to other vehicles, but it would still be a tight fit for the both of them.
"Get back here, lover," Seth demanded, sliding his own jeans down to his ankles. "You're making me wait."
Curtis knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, that it would be a lot easier to get out of the driver's side door and climb in the back hatch, but by the time he registered the intelligence of this thought, he was already scrambling over the seats, shoving his pants around his ankles in anticipation. He landed on his hands and knees in front of a squatting Seth, who leaned down to give him a hard, bruising kiss before pulling away and rubbing his erection through the thin black cotton.
"Suck me, Curtis."
His voice was low, but the usual dreamy quality was gone completely. His face was stern and demanding, but his eyes were smoldering.
Oh, hell. This was going to be good, as long as nobody drove by and called the cops. Curtis reached toward Seth's tight black trunks, but his hand was slapped away.
"Use only your mouth."
Curtis planted his hand back on the rough fabric of the cargo floor and leaned forward, tracing the outline of Seth's cock with his tongue. He trailed wet lines across the cotton, leaning down to mouth the testicles through their cloth prison. He allowed his tongue to stray upward along the shaft and make fluttering movements along the head before sucking the tip into his mouth. Sucking cotton-wrapped cock was a bit trickier than he'd expected. He released Seth and let his tongue trail along Seth's lower abs, skimming the top of the barrier.
He nosed past the waistband of Seth's trunks until he could feel Seth's uncircumcised cock against his skin, and breathed in deeply. He missed the smell of Seth, the heady scent that reminded him of long romantic evenings of slow, careful lovemaking and desperate, five-minute poundings in public restrooms when they just couldn't wait any longer. He gripped the top of the elastic with his teeth and slowly eased it down, exposing the long, thin cock to the mild chill of autumn air.
He licked around the head, sliding his tongue beneath the foreskin, teasing the tip until Seth's hand gripped the back of his head and tugged him down the shaft. He sank until he was gagging, nose pressed into the smooth skin of Seth's abdomen. Curtis loosened his throat as much as he could, letting Seth thrust as hard as he wanted to. Curtis risked a glance up at Seth's face and began to hum Seth's favorite song.
Seth's hazel eyes were blazing down into his own, and the eye contact turned every flick of Curtis's tongue, every suck, every vibration into a personal proclamation of need. Seth didn't even complain when Curtis moved his hand to aid his efforts. Seth's pendulous sac was too tempting not to touch. Large orbs rolled beneath soft, textured skin in Curtis's palm, and Seth responded to the new stimulation by pulling Curtis's head to him and thrusting hard until Curtis choked.
Seth leaned down, put one hand on either of Curtis's shoulders, and pushed him away firmly.
"Face the front of the vehicle," he demanded. Curtis wiggled around until his ass was toward Seth and his head was between the front seats. Seth's hands came into view holding a thin piece of silky black fabric between them. Curtis held still as the blindfold was tied tightly into place.
Seth sank down behind him and began to tease, tongue rasping the tiny hairs along Curtis's crack before swirling around near Curtis's tight bundle of nerves, barely touching the skin.
"Please, Seth," Curtis groaned as his tormentor backed off.
"I want you," Curtis gasped. "I'm desperate to feel you, Seth. Please. Don't tease me."
Seth scraped his teeth along one pale, freckled globe and Curtis cried out and arched his back. Seth slapped the other cheek lightly and pulled them apart. Curtis could feel the air hitting his coral pucker, and Seth blew over it delicately before his tongue began a new attack. Fingers skated over his perineum, around his testicles, and up his throbbing erection. Each touch was strong, sure of itself, and managed to stoke Curtis's fires incrementally higher.
"You taste soapy, husband of mine. You prepped for this, didn't you?"
"Derek said to be prepared for anything," Curtis gasped. "I had hopes."
"Good boy. Keep your ass up in the air." Seth was only partially intelligible with his tongue inside Curtis's ass.
Seth released Curtis for a second, and Curtis could feel him moving around behind him. The zip of one of the suitcases echoed through the vehicle, and Curtis gripped the seats in front of him in anticipation.
Something cold and slick slid around his asshole. One of Seth's talented fingers began brushing the nerve endings alternately with the pad of the finger and with the tip of his nail, spreading the lube into his skin, encouraging Curtis's tight sphincter into relaxing enough to accommodate the slick digit. He could feel Seth's finger slide in and out, swirling around until he began to moan.
A second finger pushed its way in beside the first in a slow burn, and Curtis could his body clinging to Seth's fingers as he withdrew, only to ease them in again. Then he began to curl his digits upwards, and Curtis saw stars.
"You like that, don't you?" Seth growled.
"Shit, Seth, do that again," Curtis begged. Seth brushed against his prostate a few more times before scissoring his fingers, but Curtis had finally relaxed. The third finger slid in without difficulty. Seth worked Curtis into a frenzy. He could feel an intense build, a growing pleasure, and he tried to muffle a shout.
Seth pulled his fingers out, and Curtis whimpered at the loss of stimulation.