The Bonds Of Love

Chapter 1-4

They were about ten minutes from the small West End apartment they shared when the well-lit neon sign for 7-11 caught Matt’s attention. With wide eyes, he grinned up at Vic. “Slurpees,” he announced.

Something in the way he drew out the word suggested he wanted one. Vic shook his head, bemused. “Matt—”

::Please?::

Vic gave Matt a sharp glance—his lover’s smile didn’t falter, his lips didn’t part, his mouth didn’t move, but the word echoed through Vic’s mind again, ::Pretty please?::

So their mental connection was back, which meant that somewhere between Brown’s Island and this end of town, Matt had sobered up. But he was still wrapped around Vic’s arm, pressed so close against him that each time Vic switched gears, his elbow nudged Matt’s stomach. When Vic rested his hand on Matt’s thigh, his lover clamped his legs together, catching Vic’s fingers between them. ::I thought you were out of it,:: Vic thought, projecting the words into Matt’s head.

Rich laughter resonated within him. ::Oh, I’m still buzzing,:: Matt assured him. The stop light ahead changed red, catching them a block from the convenience store. ::How about that Slurpee?::

Before Vic could reply, an image filled his mind—Matt, nude in their bedroom, a large Slurpee cup in one hand, lips blue from the cold slush and whatever flavor he had chosen. Vic on his hands and knees beside the bed, his buttocks presented to Matt like twin pale pillows. He heard the slurp of a straw, then cool fingers touched his ass, spreading his cheeks to let an icy tongue lick between them, oh sweet Jesus so numbing, so frigid. It sounded like a wonderful end to a day spent in the hot sun. Not only did he think it but felt it as well—Matt’s freezing lips on him, the cold tongue warming against his skin; not just in his mind but on his body, and his jeans chafed the sudden half-mast erection that swelled at his groin.

In the dark car Vic gasped, the sensation all too real. Suddenly a Slurpee didn’t just sound like a good idea—nothing else would do. He wanted cold lips on his, cold hands, a cold tongue. He wanted to warm Matt up again, with every inch of his body if he could. When the light changed, he crossed two lanes of the road without looking in his rear-view mirror for oncoming traffic, trusting the unnerving instincts that had awakened in him when he met Matt. With his foot on the gas, he zoomed into the 7-11 parking lot, pulling into the last spot that remained in front of the store. As he unbuckled his seat belt, he asked, “What flavor do you want?”

Matt laughed. “I’m coming, too.” He crawled across the driver’s seat and misjudged the distance—he was still a little drunk, all right. When he fell out of the car, head first, Vic caught him beneath the arms before he could hit the ground. “What would I do without you?” Matt wanted to know as Vic helped him stand.

“Knock yourself senseless,” Vic teased. “And do kinky stuff with a Slurpee in the bedroom by yourself.”

Matt held onto Vic’s arm like a child, unwilling to let go. “It’s only kinky the first time. Picture this.”

Another image overrode his thoughts…Matt kneeling before Vic, one cool hand wrapped around Vic’s throbbing shaft. Slurpee-cold lips kissed the tip of his d**k, then parted to take him into an icy mouth. As the frosty feelings thrilled through him, Vic stumbled in mid-step. Even his super strength couldn’t hold back the dribble of pre-c*m that creamed the front of his briefs. “Matt!” Vic cried, angry at the weakness that flooded him. This man was his Kryptonite, no question. “Don’t do that.”

Strong arms encircled Vic’s waist as Matt leaned against his back and snickered. “I know, I know,” he conceded. “When we get home. What flavor do you think I should get?”

Vic tried to step out of Matt’s hug and couldn’t. Leading the way to the store’s front door, he muttered, “I don’t care.” Silently he added, ::Something cold. If it feels half as good as you think it does—::

His lover’s reply danced over his thoughts. ::It will,:: Matt promised.