S’More

Chris stared, with the infamous Larabee glare, at the flickering campfire flames. He’d hoped to spend this weekend away from the hustle and bustle relaxing with Vin. Reconnecting. Fucking like rabbits.

He sighed.

Instead, first night out and he sprains his goddamned shoulder. He shifted slightly, wincing at the white hot flash of pain that knifed down his arm. Even bound tight in a sling, which was itself strapped to his chest, the shoulder still throbbed with the barest minimum of movement.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Vin settled down beside Chris, “How’s the shoulder?”

“I’ll live,” Chris gritted.

“Well, just so happens, I’ve got something here that might make you feel better.” Vin grinned widely.

“Tanner,” Chris growled the warning. Much as he wanted to sink himself into his partner’s tight ass, there was no way it’d be happening with this shoulder.

“S’Mores!” Vin crowed, holding up a bag of marshmallows in one hand and a plate of chocolate and graham wafers in the other.

Try as he might to fight it, Larabee couldn’t stop the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “S’mores?”

“You bet!” Vin set to work, toasting two marshmallows. “The trick to quality s’mores,” he lectured while he worked, “is moving fast before they melt all over your fingers. Open wide.”

Chris barely had time to comply before the warm, gooey confection was sliding between his lips.

“Too slow,” Vin murmured, eyeing the melted chocolate dribbling down his partner’s chin. He leaned close, running his tongue lightly over the sweet trail, lapping it clean.

Chris tried to lean in for a kiss, groaning at the jolt of pain in his arm as Vin moved away.

“Easy there, pard,” Vin grinned, “there’s more where that came from.” And another s’more was sliding into Larabee’s mouth. “Still too slow,” Vin shook his head, holding his chocolate covered fingers to his partner’s lips.

Chris extended his tongue, drawing the long fingers into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the tip, slurping, licking, he sucked every drop of melted chocolate clean.

Somehow, Chris never got quite fast enough. Each new s’more leaving some dribbling chocolate, melted marshmallow or graham crumbs to be cleaned up. Messes which the two men diligently licked, slurped and sucked clean, leaving them hungry for something other than the sweet dessert.

“Ready for more?” Vin asked.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Chris groaned.

“I could,” Vin waggled his brows at his partner. “Don’t move a muscle, Larabee.” He reached for the blonde’s jeans, working the belt and buttons free.

“Vin...” Chris shook his head, wincing as the pain shot down his shoulder at the gesture.

“I said ‘don’t move’, dammit.” Vin scowled at Chris. “Move one more time and I’ll put ya over my knee and paddle your ass. Sprained shoulder or no.”

Chris glared at the smaller man.

“Understood?” Vin growled.

“Understood.” Chris grudgingly acknowledged.

“All right then,” Vin nodded, getting back to the task at hand. Freeing the already straining erection from Chris’ tight jeans, Vin just smiled, licking his lips. He blew gently across the fluid beading at its tip. “Ready?”

“oh gawd, Vin,” Larabee groaned, “you know I am. Please?”

Vin flicked his tongue across the slitted opening. Swirling it around the flared head. “You sure?” he teased.

“Vi-in.” It was a long, drawn out rumbling moan.

Vin sucked the full cock head into his mouth, curling his lips around the crown’s ridge. He brushed his tongue over the distended veins along the underside of the shaft.

Chris gasped, fighting the urge to buck into his partner’s mouth. Vin knew all his most sensitive spots, knew exactly how to use that fucking tongue of his to drive Chris wild, and he expected him to not move a muscle. It was torture. Pure, exquisite, unadulterated torture. And as soon as his fucking shoulder was mobile again, he’d get his revenge on the bastard, too.

Vin swallowed, and all thoughts of revenge, or anything else for that matter, flew out of Chris’ mind. Nothing left but “Gah!” as he twitched under his partner’s firm, steadying grip, his orgasm pulsing down Vin’s throat.

Vin continued to suck and lick at Chris’ spent organ until every last drop of fluid was cleaned away. He straightened the blonde’s clothing a bit, and crawled up, leaning over Chris’ prone form. Covering Chris’ mouth with his own, he traded the blonde’s tangy flavour for the sweetness of melted chocolate and marshmallow, blending all three into an intoxicating combination.

“Now, that will always leave me beggin for s’more,” he chuckled.