Page 115 of Jackrabbit

Colt's movements turned erratic, sweat dripping down between his pecs. He moved his hand out from under Beau's so he could hold himself steady using Beau's shoulders. “I'm close, so fucking close, Beau, please—I wanna come on you please, please, please—”

“That's it. Just like that.” Beau leaned forward and bit down on Colt’s shoulder. “Good boy.Mygood boy, fuck. Come for me, Colt. Right now.”

Like he'd flipped a switch, Colt shouted as he spilled himself over Beau's fist, cum hitting Beau's chest and chin. The slick heat on his skin—the way Colt was still rutting against him, dragging his spent cock through his own mess—pushed Beau over the edge. He buried his face in Colt’s neck and groaned into his skin as he found his release.

“Holy shit.” Colt's voice was shaky, his thighs quivering on Beau’s hips. He collapsed onto Beau’s chest and buried his nose in Beau’s neck. “Beau. Oh my God.”

“Mhmm.” Beau ran his fingers through the damp hair at the back of Colt’s head, boneless.

Colt pressed tiny, soft kisses to Beau’s throat and jaw. “Did I—” His voice was small, hesitant in a way Beau rarely heard. “Was I good?”

Beau chuckled. “What's that you said the other day?” Smiling into Colt’s curls, Beau lowered his voice. “I think I saw God.”

Laugh muffled in Beau’s neck, Colt wiggled closer, entirely uncaring about the sticky mess between them. “Care to see her again?”

“Insatiable.” He kissed Colt’s hair. “I might die, you know. I'm old.”

“Oh, shut up.” Colt yawned. “Young enough to wearmeout.”

“Let me get you clean and we can go to bed, hm?” There was cum drying in Beau’s chest hair, and it was starting to itch. He couldn't imagine how Colt was feeling with his throat raw and buried in all the mess like he was.

“‘Kay.”

***

They showered again, and Colt let Beau clean him from head to toe under the hot spray. His calloused hands felt good on Colt's skin, gentle and thorough. Beau dried him off with a towel he'd stuck in the warmer before they'd hopped in. Then he dressed him in more of Beau's clothes and slipped on a pair of his own sweatpants before opening the bedroom door a crack in case Toast had forgiven them for all the yelling and wanted to come in.

Colt was already wrapped in Beau’s sheets by the time he was turning out the lights. Snuggled down with the comforter pulled up over his shoulders, watching Beau without trying to hide it at all. He liked the way Beau’s back muscles shifted when he bent to pick up a sock, the way his ass looked in those sweats.

The second Beau was under the covers, Colt was wiggling closer until he was pasted against Beau’s side, head on his chest. “You're comfy.”

Beau pulled him in. “You're a furnace.”

The door creaked open, and Colt smiled against Beau’s pec as Toast padded into the room. “We're off his shit list. That was fast.”

“Mhmm.”

Toast hopped up into the bed, his weight shifting the mattress, and came to sniff Colt’s face. He sneezed, drips of cat snot spraying Colt’s cheeks, and Colt gasped. “Ew! Aw, Toast, that was rude.”

“Guessyou'restill on his shit list.” The cat walked right over Colt and curled against Beau’s other side, purring.

“Smug bastard,” Colt grumbled. He popped his head up to look at Toast, who was glaring at him. “You're supposed to like me more.”

“How's it feel to be the least favorite?” Beau ran his hand down Colt's back. “Cat always knows who feeds him.”

“He better watch it, or I won't bring him the leash and harness I got him.”

“You did not.” Beau moved so he could look down at Colt, whose smirk was all mischief. “You did! He's not adog.”

Colt laughed. “Big as one. I think he'd like to go exploring. He's a curious boy.”

“You're projecting,” Beau grumbled, but his fingers were running down Colt’s spine and he was loose-limbed and relaxed. Win. “What color is it?”

“Dark green.” Colt patted the comforter. “To match your aesthetic.”

Quiet settled around them, nothing but the sound of Toast purring and Beau's heartbeat under his ear. Colt lazily traced patterns in Beau's chest hair—which he wasallowed to do. Finally.

“You mentioned your Karting before,” Beau rumbled as he rubbed the heel of his palm into Colt's lower back. “But…”