Michael Finally Grows Up © 2006 by Rowan McBride. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without author's permission.

*****

Once the gallery came and picked up the painting, I grabbed an apple from the counter and wandered around my loft. Our loft. Within days of moving in, Michael had unpacked the boxes I had been living out of, as well as found a place for all of his stuff. And it looked... nice.

Being gay and an artist, you'd think I'd have more interest in decorating my space, but it never worked out that way. As long as I had a bed, canvas, and paint, I was set. There had been times in my life when I didn't even have that much. But Michael got furniture, took a little space for his desk and computer, cleared a nice, big area where I could work, and put up drapes.

I chuckled as I ran my fingers over the burgundy material.

I don't think I'd ever bothered with curtains. Even my childhood bedroom only had blinds.

Leaving the windows, I went to the area that Michael had designated as our living room. An overstuffed couch that matched the drapes, a maple wood coffee table, and a 42-inch plasma screen tv.

Michael has a way of making the most random things go together. Maybe that explained us.

I swept up one of the DVD's in the box set he'd had gotten me for my birthday last week. The complete lessons of Bob Ross. I'd mentioned, once, that I'd watched him religiously as a kid. Leave it to Michael to remember something I'd said in the middle of the night over coffee.

I popped it in, set a new canvas on my easel and broke out the cadmium yellow. Some happy little trees might do me good.

By the time Michael returned home from work, I was putting the finishing touches on a quiet Autumn scene. Classic Bob Ross.

Michael slipped his arms around me to signal his arrival.

I used the fingernail of my little finger to shape a falling leaf, then lightly scraped the wet paint down his cheek. "Hello to you, too."

He pressed a kiss into the curve of my neck, then seemed to notice the painting and the DVD playing on the screen for the first time. "You're actually using your birthday present."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. You... You laughed when I gave it to you."

Sometimes I could really be a bastard to him. "That doesn't mean I didn't like it. That frizzy afro is what got me into painting."

His arms tightened around me a moment before he focused on my canvas. "Yours is a lot better than the one on the screen."

"Of course it is. I'm Avery Scott, after all."

He laughed and I reached behind me to sweep him to the front, meaning to kiss him. I stopped short when I saw his face. "You must have had a good day."

Grinning, he said, "How did you know?"

Aside from my little finger, my hands were relatively clean. Permanently discolored by paint, but clean. So I trailed my fingers over his face. "You look vibrant. Alive."

He ran his hands over my shoulders and chest, which were still bare. "I don't know what it is. But I've had a lot of energy today, my head seemed sharper, and..."

I pulled him closer. "And?"

He lowered his head, began to kiss my body. "I've been thinking of doing this all day."

His soft lips caressed my skin, warmed even my scars. "You're making me hard," I warned, already preparing to flip that switch. "You sure you're ready for this so early in the day?"

"Hurt me, Avery."

My hands gripped his shoulders and I tried, but a flash of silver slashed across my vision and I just couldn't do it. "No," I said, shoving him back.

His big brown eyes looked so hurt; I felt like I'd just kicked a puppy. "You... You don't want to make love?"

Make love. He'd called it that since our first night. "What are you, new? I always want to fuck, Michael."

"Then why—"

I slipped my hand behind his neck and drew him close. "For once we're gonna have sex the way I want it."

"But you've never really told me how you like it."

Poor guy. He actually sounded a little scared. I slid my arm around his waist and held him against me with uncharacteristic gentleness. "This is what I want, do you understand? Just for today. You think you can handle that?"

His hands, slow and tentative, stroked my back in feather light caresses. "Like this?"

I grinned and eased his suit jacket off his body. "Yeah," I said, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. "Just like that." I slid my palm inside his shirt, caressing his little body. It felt different, tighter maybe. But before I had a chance to think it through, Michael groaned and threw himself against me... totally forgetting that my stool had no back.

We tumbled off onto the hardwood floor with a resounding thunk. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, jarred every bone in my body. Michael pushed himself up, looking shocked and concerned, but otherwise okay. Not surprising, since I'd broken his fall.

"Are you alright, Avery?"

The corner of my mouth crooked and I reached up, fingering his disheveled hair. "I've had a lot worse than that."

His eyebrows drew together and he broke my gaze to stare down at my body. Slowly, he lowered his head and kissed the scar below my collarbone. His soft lips traveled over my chest; his tongue would dart out just to tease me. "This is how you want it?"

My eyes drifted closed. "Fuck yeah."

He lingered over my abs. I wasn't cut, but I had nice lines and I knew that Michael envied them. His tongue licked me all over, and for once he was slow about it, leashing his enthusiasm.

When he reached my pants, I stroked his hair, lifted my hips to let him know what I wanted.

Michael unfastened the catch, kissed the skin exposed by the action. He drew the zipper down, bit by bit, and let his mouth travel downward in slow, soft tastes.

I smiled. "Nice."

He glanced up, looking as if I'd just given him the sun and moon. "Really?"

"Keep going."

His hands tightened on my pants as he pulled them down my hips, my thighs, my calves; dropping kisses along the way. Once I was naked, he stripped his own clothing and crawled up my legs, bathed my half-hard cock with his tongue.

It sprang to attention and he gasped.

Chuckling, I grabbed him under the arms and dragged him up my body. "Still surprised after all these years?"

He rubbed himself against me, his little prick stiff as it slid against mine. "You're so big, Avery." He lowered his head, breathed his words over my lips. "So hard."

I slipped my hand into his hair, palming the back of his head as I pulled him down to capture his mouth. My tongue played with his awhile before I settled into more serious caresses. I sipped. I sucked.

Michael groaned into me. "I-I think I'm close."

"You're always close." My arms tightened around him and I rolled us over. Those big brown eyes grew smoky as I dropped a kiss on his forehead and grazed his ear with my teeth.

He arched his back, lifting me up an inch or two, which surprised me enough that I sat up.

Since when was he strong enough to do that?

Michael glided his hands up my thighs, skimmed the tips of his fingers up my waist, and rested his palms against my chest. "Why'd you stop?"

"Just looking at you, is all. You're practically glowing."

He grinned, rolled his thumbs against my nipples. "I told you, I've been thinking about this all day."

Sweet. I should have been long tired of it by now, but he always managed to keep me interested. I glanced down at his busy fingers, caught sight of one wrapped in a band-aid. Sweeping up his hand, I kissed the injury. "Is that feeling better?"

"It is now."

Laughing, I stretched myself over his body. "Who tries to fix a toaster by taking it apart and sticking their finger into it? You could have killed yourself yesterday."

His warm hands ran over my back, cupped over my ass. "It was just a small shock."

I lowered my head, captured his mouth. My tongue thrust hard and deep—a little punishment for being such an idiot.

Of course, he loved that.

His restraint evaporated and he clutched at me, spread his legs as he bent his knees.

I nuzzled the curve of his neck and started to rise off of him.

"Wait!" He grabbed my shoulders. "Where are you going?"

The desperation in his eyes reminded me of how I'd felt this morning, and I settled over him again, stroked his face. "I'm only going to get the lube."

His body started. Was it my gentleness?

When I started to move again, he hooked his leg over me. "D-Don't. I can't wait." Before I could argue, he licked his palm and slicked it over my cock.

I shuddered with pleasure.

He squeezed and tugged, milking pre-cum out of me and smoothing it over my hot flesh.

Barely able to keep myself poised over him, I stared down at him in shock.

His hand paused. "You don't like this?"

Exactly the opposite. I'd never known Michael to be so... good. I pumped my hips into his fist to get him going again. The nervous tension seeped out of his body as he worshiped my pole.

"I want you inside of me, Avery."

I hadn't known just how much I'd been craving to hear anything but hurt me. I grabbed his leg and held it against my shoulder. Lifting his ass, I paused again, thinking that he felt heavier.

He writhed, trying to find my cock with his hole. "Please, Avery."

His eagerness surrounded me. I couldn't deny him, but I wasn't above a little torture.

Taking his hips, I stopped his writhing. "It's about what I want this time, remember?" I guided the head of my rod to his pucker. I didn't slide in; I just teased him until his ass clenched and his breathing came harsh. His entire body begged me, but I still wouldn't let him have it.

Michael whimpered.

God, I could be cruel. He was such a pretty little thing. If he weren't so ashamed of his body, he probably would have moved on to someone nicer by now.

Taking mercy on him, I eased my cock into his pleading hole.

His whimpering stopped as he closed his eyes. Enjoying the feel of me.

"See, Michael? Slow isn't so bad, is it?"

He whispered my name.

I was hard to take, I knew. Even guys twice his size had trouble accepting me. But that was in another life, and Michael was in bliss. Taking my time, I pushed forward.

He dragged in a deep, shaky breath when all ten of my inches were buried into his ass. I waited until he opened his eyes before I withdrew and began his torment again.

His muscles tightened, squeezing me hard.

I blew out a soft breath, quickened my pace.

He watched me, wide-eyed, with that combination of innocence and awe I'd gotten to know so well over the years.

One of my hands slid from his hips to stroke his prick.

His body convulsed at my touch.

Damn. I'd gone just a shade too far.

Ah, well. He'd held out long enough.

I stroked him faster, thrust into him harder. His prick twitched, once, and then exploded. He cried out and sprayed hot, white jizz all over his chest.

It stunned me, watching him orgasm. I'd never seen so much shoot out of him. It kicked the fire inside of me into overdrive and, for the first time since we'd met, I didn't have to push myself into coming.

A ripple went through me; those fields of golden wheat filled my mind's eye.

The intensity burst free, poured into him. It had never been this way before—I felt weak, shaken right down to the center of me. My muscles, no more used to this sensation that the rest of me, couldn't support my body. My chest heaved as I gasped for air, and I collapsed.

A few seconds passed before I realized what I'd done.

Shit. I was crushing Michael.

Bracing my trembling hands on the floor, I started to push myself away.

Michael wrapped his arms around me. "Don't leave. Not yet."

Because he sounded fine, I rolled to the side without breaking his embrace. "Alright."

He pressed himself so close to me that I could feel him smile against my chest. "Thank you, Avery."

I laughed softly, threaded my fingers through his hair. "You're always so fucking polite."

He licked the perspiration from my skin.

Stiffening, I pushed him back even as my cock hardened. "Don't tease."

His hand curled over mine and guided it down to his ready and eager prick. "Who's teasing?"

Startled, I stared into his chocolate eyes. "What's gotten into you today?"

"You have. And I want you to do it again."

My eyebrows rose. Aside from that hurt me shit, Michael wasn't one for hot talk.

But who was I to argue? I knew better than to turn down such a prime gift.

Smiling, I pulled him on top of me.

And Michael didn't disappoint.