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Charles fumbles with the motel keys, nearly dropping them as Arthur relentlessly peppers wet kisses down the back of his neck. The dim, flickering bulb above the door not offers him no help as he prods for the keyhole in the dark. Eventually, he slots in the key, completely forgetting to turn the damn thing when Arthur slides a calloused hand up under the front of his shirt. A puff of a laugh grazes the skin just under Charles’ ear. A husky whisper from Arthur follows, “Ain’t chu gonna let me in, big man?”
A fond warmth spreads through Charles’ chest and down into his stomach at the nickname. He tries to quell the flush of his face with little success. After shooting the man a harmless glare, Charles flicks open the door and, with an impatient shove from Arthur, they both stagger inside.
Arthur wraps his arm around Charles’ torso and, with an ease that turns Charles on more than he would have realized, flips him around so that they’re chest to chest. Charles’ nose ends up a mere inch from the other man’s.
The door slams shut with the kick of a scuffed boot and suddenly Arthur’s lips slam into his almost hard enough to bruise. They recover quickly and find an easy rhythm, lips heatedly moving in tandem in this moment that they had waited far long enough for. Charles feels Arthur start to desperately urge him backwards toward the bed. Before he can get them very far, however, Charles combs a hand through his sandy hair and pulls his head back, stopping him in his tracks and breaking their kiss. Arthur pants out a needy whine as their lips part. He opens his mouth to protest but Charles is already deftly pinning him to the closed door. His hands move to grip Arthur’s hips, firmly keeping him in place.
Arthur brings up his hands and reverently cups Charles’ face. Charles feels his fingertips lightly tracing the scar that webs its way up his jaw. The touch nearly makes him shudder.
Arthur’s pupils are blown wide, the bright blue barely a ring along them. His eyes are flicking between Charles’ own and his lips like it’s the last time he’ll get to see them. That might as well be exactly what this feels like. It’s certainly no final good-bye. He’ll back in town with his rig a few weeks from now with another haul. A few weeks feels like a long time to go without this. Without Arthur.
He shakes the thought out of his head in favor of giving attention to the panting, yet surprisingly patient, man before him.
Charles leans forward to plant a couple light pecks to the corners of Arthur’s lips before finally giving him what he knows he wants. He licks his way into Arthur’s mouth, the act of it feeling filthy in the best way.
Arthur moans and then goes to do the same to Charles who eagerly lets him. His hands move into Charles’ hair where his nails carefully scrape over his scalp. Charles involuntarily whimpers at the feeling. Truthfully, he was enjoying that more than anything they’d been doing with their mouths so far. He feels his cheeks warm both out of embarrassment of having such an odd preference and at the fact that he could tell Arthur knows just how much he likes it.
Charles refocuses, knowing just how to embarrass Arthur back. He pulls Arthur toward him by his hips, able to feel just how hard he is through his jeans. Arthur’s hands tighten in Charles’ hair as Charles grinds his thigh into his erection. It elicits a heady moan from Arthur. Charles can’t help but smirk into their kiss at his successful maneuver.
“Charles,” Arthur chides, out of breath. He gently pushes Charles just back far enough to look him the eye but still close enough for him to still feel the heavy, warm whisper grace over his lips, “Keep that up and you’re gonna make me embarrass myself before we even get started.”
“Can’t have that,” Charles says dryly. Arthur just shakes his head.
Without another word Charles gets down on his knees, staring up at Arthur with a faux innocent expression before grabbing the man by the ass and licking his cock over the front of his jeans. Arthur makes a filthy sound and braces himself on the door, “Shit.”
Charles wrangles Arthur’s belt apart and gets his jeans and boxers out of the way at an agonizingly slow pace. Taking his time because he knows how it drives Arthur crazy.
Arthur lets out an exasperated huff, “Any day now, you fuckin’ tease.”
Charles ignores him, his attention solely on the thick cock he’s now eye level with. Arthur is so hard at this point he can tell he’s aching, the head of it red and eager awaiting his mouth. Charles feels a hand thread through his hair again, now urging him forward but he can’t let Arthur off quite that easy. He lets Arthur guide him closer but turns just before his lips would touch the tip so that he can pepper wet kisses down Arthur’s strong thighs, getting as close to his cock as he can without actually offering it any attention.
Arthur doesn’t let this go on for long before he speaks up, pleading, “Charles, please. You’re killin’ me.”
Charles laughs but decides to finally give in this time, taking pity on the poor man. He licks a stripe up the bottom of Arthur’s dick then pays the tip a little extra attention, the taste of pre-cum and the gasp from Arthur motivating him onward. He wraps his hand around the base before taking all he can into his mouth. Arthur really starts to direct him then, using his grip on Charles’ hair to push and pull him over his cock; using him in the best way. He wants Arthur to use him like this. To let his mouth be what sends him over the edge. Him. Charles moans at the thought, the vibration of it driving Arthur crazy.
“God, your mouth… feels s’good,” Charles can hear Arthur mumbling him breathless praises above him. He feels himself getting wet at the words, “…fuck, Charles, I’m already close.”
At that Charles begrudgingly pulls off of him, a clever plan in mind, but Arthur is already desperately pleading, “Why’d you stop? Please, I’m so close. So—“
“Fuck my face,” Charles says, as nonchalant as he can muster.
“D’what?” Arthur’s eyes widen and his face somehow flushes even more.
Charles looks up at him through his lashes, face as serious as a heart attack, “I want you to fuck my face,” He then gently kisses each one of Arthur’s thighs before continuing, “and I want you to come in my mouth,” he pushes Arthur’s shirt up enough to plant a kiss on his hairy, solid stomach, “please.”
“Jesus. I was just kiddin’ when I said you were gonna kill me before but talkin' like that might actually do me in,” Arthur quips. He looks down at Charles, briefly caressing his cheek as he tries to compose himself. Then he weightily asks, “You sure?”
Charles feels his heart warm at the sincere concern in Arthur’s voice. He easily decides that such consideration deserves to be rewarded and gives Arthur a nod.
Arthur grips the back of Charles’ head in one hand, this time pulling him in greedily. Any patience the man had seemed to have is gone as he presses the tip of his cock against Charles’ already swollen lips.
Charles lets out a breathy laugh before taking Arthur into his mouth. Arthur doesn’t wait to start, intently holding Charles in place as he makes short quick thrusts into his mouth. He isn’t close to letting Charles take his full length, a fact that Charles is not ready to accept. Charles grabs Arthur’s ass and jerks him forward so the man’s cock hits the back of his throat.
“Fuck!,” Arthur yelps, whining loudly as Charles continues the motion a few more times without gagging. Tears prickle Charles’ eyes but the man deems them worth it. After its clear Arthur is near worn, he allows Arthur to set his own pace once more. He can tell Arthur’s close again as his thrusts become clumsy and desperate. Hands still gripping Arthur’s ass, Charles is now practically holding the man up as he sputters another couple of thrusts.
“I’m—fuck, Charles—“
An uninhibited moan escapes Arthur as he’s sent over the edge. Charles tastes Arthur on his tongue. He swallows everything he can, sucking Arthur gently through the end of his orgasm. Arthur puts the majority of his weight onto him as he leans forward, spent and content. He plants a kiss to Charles’ temple. Its a sweet thank you that warms his chest for the second time that night.
Charles carefully pulls off of Arthur’s soft, sensitive cock and moves to hold the unsteady man more securely. Though Arthur is by no means a small man Charles finds it easy enough to steer the man’s lax body toward the bed, discarding his boots and jeans on the way. He lays Arthur down on his back before crawling into bed beside him.
“C’mere,” Arthur slurs, tugging Charles to lay partially on top of him all the while planting lazy kisses to any part of his body that he can reach. When he can finally reach Charles’ face he pulls him down into a languid, closed mouth kiss.
Charles pulls away to look down at Arthur. The man’s eyelids are heavy, and he looks mere moments away from falling asleep. Charles hadn’t got his truck to Valentine until well into the evening this time and both of them were up early this morning; so, Charles can hardly blame him. He wouldn’t care one bit if this was how their night ended, laying around and tangled up with one another like this. It feels nice.
He knew it won’t last long though. Arthur will catch his breath and head back home to sleep in his own bed. Charles will fall asleep in this dingy motel, alone, then be out of Valentine before the sun comes up. Then it would be weeks before they saw each other again; as is their usual routine. It was easier this way Charles told himself not for the first time. No strings attached liked they’d agreed upon. Charles was never in town long enough for a string to attach anyhow. No matter how much he was starting to realize he wants one to.
A warm hand brushes up his face and a rough thumb smooths over the crease of his brow, pulling him from his thoughts.
“What’chu makin’ that face for?” Arthur whispers.
Charles shakes his head, brushing off the other man’s concern, “You look tired.”
“I am tired.”
“Right,” Charles calmly schools his features, looking away from Arthur. He braces for the inevitable goodbye and for all the warmth to leave this bed.
“Yeah,” Arthur continues, teasing smile shining up at Charles, “Tired and pretty sore—both your fault by the way. Waitin’ until after closing to show up just to make me unload all those damn boxes myself.”
“Sorry,” Charles puffs a laugh through his nose, “I’m just the delivery guy.”
Arthur gives an amused hum. Then, with a stark inhale he says, “Well, I guess I better get goin'.” He goes to sit up, either ignoring or entirely unaware of how Charles’ face completely drops.
Charles nods and moved to let Arthur up. He promptly looks down towards his hands, pretending to examine his fingernails like they’re the most interesting things in the world. The shitty bed creaks as Arthur slides off of it, slow, heavy footsteps padding their way across the room. It was stupid to think this was anything more than fooling around for Arthur. Charles knew he wasn’t staying and should have spurred any hopes of tonight being any different that usual. Arthur had never quite left so suddenly like this though. It stings a bit more than Charles really wants to admit. He waits for the clink of a belt buckle or the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor, dread and a little shame building as he waits for a quiet goodbye or the shut of the door. Yet the room remains quiet.
Then a hand grips his shoulder.
“Did you really think I was gonna leave you hangin’ like that?” Arthur asks, punctuated by a short laugh.
Charles looks up and to his left, Arthur’s eyes glinting back at him. All Arthur had done was walk around the bed, still in his boxers and plain white tee; no sign that he had been serious about leaving in the slightest. Relief floods Charles chest first directly followed by annoyance.
“You asshole,” he huffs and shoves Arthur’s side, though there was no real hostility in it.
The shove barely moves the man. Arthur comes closer, rubbing Charles back sweetly as he says, “I’m sorry. How bout I make it up to ya?”
“I don’t know that I want you to.” Charles continues shooting daggers up at Arthur.
This, however, does not stop Arthur from carefully climbing over Charles on the bed until he’s straddling his hips. He pulls his own tee off then reaches to start undoing the snaps on Charles’ shirt. He kisses his bare chest as he gets his shirt the rest of the way off. Then, he pushes Charles’ down one-handed, gently laying him down on his back. He looks down at Charles’ body with a look of adoration that sends a shudder through him. God, if Arthur kept looking at him like that Charles would let him do whatever he wanted, loving every second of it.
“I really am sorry.” Arthur says quietly. He runs a hands up Charles’ soft abs and along the scars lining his pecs. “Let me make it up to ya?”
He says it like a question but Charles had folded the minute he understood Arthur wasn’t actually leaving.
“I suppose you can try,” he wants it to sound teasing but the statement comes out more desperate than anything.
Arthur grins, accepting the challenge that he knows he's already won. He slips back a bit and impatiently gets Charles out of his boxers and pants, carelessly throwing them off of the side of the bed. Charles is completely bare beneath Arthur’s hungry eyes. It makes heat flare low in his body, more than ready for whatever Arthur’s consolation will be.
Arthur pushes Charles’ knees apart and bends down so that his head is right between his thighs. He doesn’t take his time like Charles had, no kissing or teasing before he licks into Charles’ folds like a man starved.
“Arthur,” Charles fails to hold back a moan, throwing his head back into the pillows. Arthur’s tongue moves slowly up him and over his clit before diving back down deep into him. Charles pants and helplessly grinds up into Arthur’s tongue when it reaches his clit again. Arthur then sucks it into his mouth. Charles cries out, hands bunching into the sheets as he relishes in the feeling of Arthur’s mouth on him. Charles tries to form words but can’t get more than Arthur’s name and pleasured whimpers out in between his panting.
Then, Arthur pulls off with a lewd slurp, coming up for air, “You taste so good. Could stay down here all night if you let me.”
Charles certainly wouldn’t have stopped him.
The loss of Arthur’s mouth was agonizing. So it's Charles’ turn to whine but he’s barely able to make a sound before two fingers slide inside of him. Arthur puts his thumb on his clit as he begins pushing in and out of him, rubbing determined circles about the enlarged tip of it. At first he moves in an easy rhythm but picks up his speed, fucking him incredibly in time with Charles’ rapidly increasing heartbeat.
“You're doin’ so good, Charles. Sound so pretty.”
The praise sends him reeling. Charles feels something start coil tightly within him as his orgasm builds. He’s so close, frantically moving his hips so Arthur’s fingers can hit all the right places just the right way. The picture he must be for Arthur right now… he must look pathetic. The thought only sends him closer to the edge.
“Come on now, big man. Go on and come for me.”
And he does, crying out in what feels like something akin to a sob. Arthur slows his pace but doesn’t stop, fingers fucking him through his orgasm. Waves of pleasure wreck through him and Arthur makes sure to wring him out fully before pulling out.
Charles is seeing stars. He knows he’s laying down on a hard motel mattress but he feels like he’s floating as he’s coming down.
He feels Arthur shift on the bed, moving to lay next him. He puts a hand on the side of Charles’ face and turns his head to face him. Arthur gives him a sweet kiss and Charles can taste himself as their lips meet. He hates how hot he finds it.
Eventually, Charles forces his eyes to open but his vision is still a little blurry. Eventually, Arthur’s face becomes more clear. His eyes look impossibly green, glinting with pride. His lips are red and swollen from everything he’d done with his mouth. Charles thinks he looks beautiful, impossibly so. He wants, or rather needs, to tell him this but Arthur speaks first.
“So, do you forgive me?”
Charles cant think straight enough to play along so he keeps it simple, “Yes.”
Arthur laughs at that but pulls Charles in close, allowing him to bury his head in his shoulder as he lays back. Charles does so gratefully. He wraps his arms around Arthur’s stomach, aimlessly rubbing his hand through the coarse hair on his stomach. In turn, Arthur rubs tired circles over his back. Charles feels himself relaxing into the man’s chest, teetering on the edge of sleep.
At some point he might have actually fallen asleep but wakes as Arthur is trying to covertly slide out from under him. Charles blearily raises his head. He shoots Arthur a questioning look.
“I better head out,” he says, a solemn smile gracing his face, “Actually head out this time.”
Charles recognizes that that’s supposed to be a joke but he can find no humor in it. Arthur partially sits up but Charles watches him hesitate. Charles really doesn’t want him to go and it seems like Arthur may not want to either.
Before Arthur can get very far Charles reaches out and grabs his wrist. He sees his chance and he takes it, “You can stay. It’s awful late.”
Arthur slowly shakes his head and does his best to avoid Charles’ eyes, “You gotta leave early in the morning. I don’t want to keep ya or make ya—“
Charles doesn’t let himself overthink his next words, “I want you to stay.”
Arthur looks back up at him, all shock and awe plastered over his face. If he was being honest, Charles surprised himself a bit with such a sentimental statement said aloud but he means what he said. He can only pray that Arthur feels even remotely the same.
After a long, silent moment Arthur nods, “Okay.”
Relief and unadulterated happiness swell through Charles’ chest. Arthur settles back down, lovingly pulling Charles into his arms once more. Charles kisses the bottom of his jaw before settling back down against his chest. He can feel Arthur deflate from a deep exhale, like he’s finally letting himself relax fully.
A quiet moment passes before either one of them make another sound. Arthur slots his hand into Charles’, now quite messy, hair and massages his head similarly to how he had before. It nearly lulls him back to sleep when he hears Arthur utter the quietest ‘Goodnight’s into his hair. Charles can do nothing but smile.
“Goodnight, Arthur.”