Run and Hide Pt. 02

"Bless you, my dear," Ace said. "That will definitely help."

"We're still doing some work outside, yes?" Steven asked.

"Yep. I figure we can put your brother on that." Ace checked his to-do list. "Other than that, and some splashes of color, we should be good to go. This house doesn't need much more than makeup at this point."

Steven sighed and grinned. "Glad to hear that. That list you gave me had me a little worried."

"Well, it helps that you have good fixtures throughout," Ace said. "I especially like the flooring. Original?"

"Yup," Steven said. "Most of the work I've done to this place involved getting rid of some pretty hideous wallpaper and carpeting."

"Yeah, aesthetically the fifties could be kind of spotty, but you can't question their workmanship," Ace said. "This house has a pretty simple construction and design, but it has really good bones."

"Oh, Steven's brother knows all about good bones," Holly said.

"Um, what?" Ace said, startled.

"He's a chiropractor," she said. "Bones are his thing."

"Right," Ace said, recovering. "Well, good. We're probably all going to need one after today."

"Need what?" Paul's deep voice once again snuck up on him. Apparently, yes, hewasgoing to be here.

"Good bones," Holly said, cryptically.

Paul raised an eyebrow at Ace.

"I meant a chiropractor, Miss Shipley," Ace said, blushing. "A massage, that is. We're all going to be feeling this tonight."

Paul just kept looking at him with hunger, and Ace felt his blush deepen. Then it started to make him mad.

If Paul was going to eye fuck him like that, he could at least acknowledge having met him before.

And why do I always, always, always go for the closet cases?

"Okay," Ace said brightly, to break the awkwardness he was starting to feel. "Now that the muscle is here, let's get that massive TV downstairs. Then we'll get you started outside," he said to Paul.

"Outside?"

Yeah, somewhere that rumbling voice won't be the end of me.

"If you don't mind doing some of the grunt work on the yard?" Ace said.Mmmm, grunt work. Stop it, Hoffman!

Paul raised one dark eyebrow at him, and Ace just knew he was thinking of the same kind of grunt work. He needed to get some distance between them before his resolve evaporated.

"Just tell me where to go and what to do," Paul said with a twinkling smile.

"You and Steven go unhook the TV and I'll be downstairs to show you where to put it."

He headed to the basement before Paul could see the inevitable blush overput it.

*****

Paul threw himself into clearing the overgrown foliage that choked the front of the house. It was better that he was outside. The short time he spent in Ace's proximity was dangerous enough. He preferred it out here. Alone. Sweating. Aceless.

Yeah. Better.

He hauled another unwieldy armful of vines and branches to the backyard, marveling at how Steven hadn't picked up their dad's obsessive yardwork tendencies. Sure, Steven would mow the lawn as often as the next guy, and he fertilized right on schedule. But in the four years he'd owned this house, he hadn't touched any plant life other than the grass.

Paul started a burn pile in the fire pit in the backyard, waiting for Ace to appear with more instructions.

Yeah. That's why you're waiting for Ace to appear,he told himself.

He knew he had been fooling himself when he decided it would be safe to help Steven today. Knew that as soon as he saw his blond dream man his willpower would vanish.

Hell, it vanished as soon as he heard the words "good bones." He'd arrived at Steven's in time to eavesdrop on his brother's assumptions about Ace and this David realtor person, which did not amuse. And then he had to deal with the sudden images of giving Ace a massage, which ... also did not amuse. Did something else, though.

When Paul returned to the front yard, he found Ace and Steven surveying his work.

"This is already better," Ace said, not looking at Paul. "Now we need to create some order out of what's left here by the house." He turned to the rest of the yard. "And those trees need some attention."

"Attention?" Paul said. "Is that code for chainsaw?"

Ace chuckled and flashed his eyes at Paul, almost shyly. "Do you have any experience operating that tool?"

A jolt immediately shot through Paul, but he forced the blood away from his face. Unfortunately, it had decided on a different destination.

"Um, on behalf of my limbs, I vote no on the chainsaw," Steven said.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Man, one little flesh wound and he gets all twitchy."

Ace raised an eyebrow in question.

"Long story," Paul said. "You have any brothers?"

"One sister. Older."

"Then you probably got through childhood with fewer scars," Steven said.

"I wouldn't say that," Ace said. "But if I'm anything to go by, I've found that little brothers tend to earn their scars."

Paul slugged Steven's arm. "See? He's on my side."

Ace smiled with a furrowed brow.

"All right, boss," Steven said, back to work. "What's next?"

Ace grabbed a pair of heavy duty cutters from his truck for the tree trimming. He directed the brothers through the pruning process, restoring a pleasant shape to the shrubberies that remained and culling down the explosion of flowers to a more manageable collection.

Once again, Paul was impressed with Ace's ability to see - and realize - the potential in what looked like a hopeless mess.

And it certainly didn't hurt that Ace spent a lot of time on his hands and knees to dig out plants. His ass looked just as inviting as the first time Paul had laid eyes - and hands - on it.

God, he wanted to be invited back there. Suddenly, rules were lessRULES!and morerules?

With some clippers and ladders, the trees in the front yard soon stopped blocking as much of the view of the house, and the burn pile was big enough for a bonfire.

"We'll need to burn that to get it out of here," Steven decided, wiping sweat from his face. "Maybe do some s'mores."

"S'mores," Paul groaned. "I'm ready to die from complete muscle failure, and he's talking about marshmallows." Paul wasn't out of shape, not by a long shot, but this sort of bending and reaching wasn't typically part of his running and free weights routine, and the underused muscles he woke up today were complaining loudly.

"Wow," Steven smiled. "I know you just turned thirty-six and are therefore old, but I had no idea how decrepit you'd gotten."

"I'd smack you for that, but I'm conserving my strength." Paul sat heavily on the top step. "So I'll settle for a stern 'fuck you,'" he sighed.

"And on that note, why don't we stop for lunch?" Ace said.

He sounded upbeat, but Paul could see just as much sweat on Ace's skin as on his own. He really was working hard for Steven, and Paul doubted that this was something he'd do for all his clients. Was this for him, he wondered. Was Ace unable to stay away, too?

He hoped that was the reason. Hoped he was under Ace's skin, too, making him itch for more.

Because God knows he was ready to scratch it for him.

Steven and Holly left to pick up lunch, and Ace sent along a list of things to buy at Home Depot, not the least of which was, in Ace's technical term, a shitload of mulch.

That left Paul alone with Ace as they rested their muscles.

Paul took a quick tour of the latest improvements and was impressed with how those ridiculous throw pillows really did make a difference. And the man cave that Ace seemed to conjure out of nothing was going to seduce every guy who viewed the house.

"You do good work," he said to Ace, handing him a Boulevard Pale Ale and sitting on one end of the living room sofa.

"You sound a little surprised," Ace said, smiling. He took up a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, which Paul immediately noticed and didn't care for.

Paul shrugged. "Just surprised at how easy you make it look."

"Well, thank you," Ace said quietly.

As much as Paul wanted to be able to skip to the naked, sweaty end, he knew he needed to ease into this. Ace had been alternately warm-eyed and cold shoulder today, and Paul wanted to get to the bottom of that.

"Why did Steven think you and his realtor were together?" Paul asked, changing the subject abruptly. It had been bugging him since he'd first overheard their conversation.

Ace looked at him for a drawn-out moment, then shrugged. "I think your brother is trying to figure out the puzzle that is gayhood," he said. "He knows two gay men who know each other. Ergo, a husband and husband."

"Oh." Paul took a long drink from his beer and cleared his throat. "I thought maybe, you know, he had, um, seen something."

"Something?" Ace asked, amused. "Like his first gay kiss? Worried that his head might explode?"

A little."No. I was just, you know, curious."Not jealous. Nope.

They fell silent, nursing their beers. Paul wanted to keep Ace talking. Hell, he wanted a lot more than that. Needed to find something they had in common besides Steven. And that thought led him to the first night he met Ace.

"So, are you a regular at Sparks?" Paul asked, aiming for casual and missing.

Ace's smile immediately faded and he narrowed his eyes. "I go there," he said flatly.

"Often? I mean, regularly? You seemed to know your way around the place."

"It's not a complicated layout, Dr. McDonnell."

Paul stifled an annoyed huff. Dammit, this man knew exactly what he was asking. Why was he being coy?

"You visit the back room much?"

Ace held his eyes with a flinty gaze. "Not especially."

Paul arched an eyebrow. "It's just that you seemed pretty familiar with the whole process last week. Prepared, even. I got the sense that you, you know, that you weren't new at it."

"Not that it's any of your fucking business, but no, I don't fuck tricks at Sparks very often," Ace said stiffly. "That's why I asked you to come home with me. The back room is convenient, but ultimately ... unsatisfying."

Paul flinched inwardly.Is he saying I was a bad fuck? Impossible. That night blew my mind; I know he came undone too.

"So what were you doing there at all?" Paul countered.

Ace pursed his lips in annoyance. "Had a bad day. Hell, a bad week. Wanted to blow off some steam. I refuse to be labeled a whore for that, Dr. McDonnell."

"Will you cut it out with the doctor business?" Paul sighed.

"Gladly. If you'll stop implying that I'm some easy lay." Ace crossed his arms across his chest.

"All evidence to the contrary, huh?" Paul regretted the words the second they left his mouth.

If it was possible, Ace's blue eyes got even frostier. "That's rich. You're calling me a slut, safely tucked in your closet," he spat. "It's probably the only place you fuck, isn't it?"

"You didn't seem all that picky," Paul bristled.

"I don't date - or fuck - closet cases," Ace said. "Been there. Not worth it."

Been there, huh?Somebody hurt him, Paul realized. But this secret was his life, his decision, and Paul wasn't going to ruin his life just so Ace could feel better about sucking his dick without shame.

Coward,he accused himself.It's not his shame.

"Why does it matter to you - or anyone else, really - if I'm out or not?" Paul said heatedly. "It's no one's business but the guy I'm fucking."

"That pretty much guarantees that you only fuck somebody once," Ace said.

"Not necessarily," Paul purred. He definitely wanted to fuck this guy twice. Hell, even twice might not be enough for him to get his fill.

"With me, necessarily," Ace snapped.

"Why not?" Paul persisted. "We both had a good time. Hell, it's all I've been thinking about every night. How hot you were, how tight and sexy."

Ace's hard eyes softened slightly, but he remained wary and resolute.

"We could meet at Sparks again," Paul said low. "Find that lovely dark corner. Release that steam again. I'm willing to break one of my rules if you're willing to bend yours."

"Your rules?"

"I don't fuck within a hundred miles of my house."

Ace blinked. "That's ... specific."

"It's good policy," Paul shrugged. "I take the right kind of vacations when I can, or weekend road trips if vacation is too far off. Gets the job done."

"Helps you hide who you are," Ace translated.

"Helps mebewho I am, on my terms," Paul returned.

Ace snorted, clearly not buying it. "Thanks for the oh-so generous offer, but I pass."

Paul should have let it go right there. Should have given thanks that Ace was helping him follow his own rules. Should have cooled off and planned his next road trip.

Instead, he scooted closer to Ace on the sofa until their body heat began to mix and swirl into his senses. God help him, he still wanted this man. Not because of his shitty birthday this time, not because it had been too long since he'd gotten off - he wantedthisman. More than he'd ever craved another person.

So he decided to play a little dirty.

"Are you saying you honestly don't want it? Any of it?" Paul asked, running his fingers lightly across Ace's shoulders. He could feel those muscles tighten, and he heard Ace suck in a breath. The electric attraction between them was palpable, and he knew it wasn't one-sided. "Even though you know how good it feels?"

Ace shook his head slowly and gave him a hard look. "You're cotton candy."

Paul looked down at himself. "I fail to see the comparison."

"You're delicious, sinful even." Ace licked his lips, which drew Paul's eyes down to that luscious mouth. "But you're empty calories. A treat for the ballpark. Bad for me."

Bad for him? Paul didn't like that analogy at all, but he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"So let's go to the ballpark," he said. "I kind of like calling Sparks that. Lots of fun balls there."

Ace regarded Paul with hard eyes. "I've had my fill of cotton candy," he said. "I'm ready for the full meal. One that's good for me. One I don't have to eat in a goddamn closet!"

Ace jumped up and stalked off down the hallway into the bathroom.

Way to fuck that up, McDonnell,Paul berated himself.

He launched himself off the couch and followed him down the hall.

Just before Ace could shut the door, Paul backed him into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

"Or maybe we don't need the back room at all," he murmured. "Any dark, tight space will do."

"Paul, stop it," Ace protested. He put his hands on Paul's chest to keep him back, but he didn't seem able to push very hard. Paul took this as encouragement.

Steven's beige and umber bathroom still smelled of paint fumes from the touchups they'd done earlier. Paul didn't want to think about that, though - and he didn't want Ace to think at all right now.

"I can turn off the lights if it would make you more comfortable." Paul flicked the switch in the windowless room and plunged them into darkness. "Feel familiar?"

"Paul." This time his name came out as a breathless moan. Even as his eyes began to adjust, Paul still couldn't see much beyond general shapes. The sound of Ace's ragged breath rang loud in his ears.

"Come on, let me taste you," Paul whispered. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind." He nuzzled his face into Ace's neck, letting his beard scratch the smooth, moist skin that he longed to explore. "I've never wanted anyone twice before. Never needed this so much."

He hovered his lips over Ace's, straining to see his eyes in the darkness. "Let me have you." His breath mixed with Ace's, whose mouth was hanging open and inviting. "One more time."At least. At the very least.

Paul wouldn't push any further than this. No matter how badly he ached to. Sure, he'd lock them in a dark bathroom to set the mood. But he'd back off if necessary. He needed Ace to make a move, one way or another.

Ace hadn't moved his hands from Paul's chest, and now his fingers clenched around the fabric of Paul's T-shirt.

"You are not good for me," Ace whispered, his breath hot on Paul's face.

"Probably."

"This is your brother's house."

"Yep."

"He could catch us."

"We've got time."

"You're breaking your rules."

"Don't care."

"I shouldn't -"

"Ace, kiss me." Paul moved his mouth as near to Ace's as he could without touching and held his breath.

The moment dragged on. Paul dug his hands into the firm flesh of Ace's ass and waited. And hoped.

Ace let out a sharp breath. "Fuck." Then he closed the gap and took Paul's mouth in a needy, hot kiss.

Paul groaned deep in his throat. He'd been aching for this all week, trying to remember the taste, the living texture of Ace's tongue.

His memory fell far short of reality.

Addicted. He could feel his need twist into an addiction for this man. That should have scared him, should have sent him running. But his mind was quickly emptying of any thoughts exceptmore.

They pulled away to breathe and gasped in unison, foreheads together. Paul recovered first and ran his tongue along Ace's jaw line, soaking up as much of him as he could.

He brought his hands around to Ace's crotch and relished the thick bulge he found there. Ace hissed when Paul's hand finally groped his growing length through the denim.

"I didn't get to play with this much last time," Paul said against Ace's neck. "Let me do this for you."

"Yes," Ace groaned. "God, yes."

Paul dropped to his knees and pulled Ace's groin to his face. They'd both been working hard today, and the smell of the outdoors and the mud and leaves mixed with Ace's intoxicating sweat. Every whiff he'd gotten today had made his dick twitch, and now the scent plus the proximity had made him hard and ready.

"It's a pity I can't see you this time," Paul said. "I'll have to feel my way around."

Paul pulled out Ace's beautiful dick and caressed it lovingly. Ace panted harshly above him.

Paul lapped up the precum leaking from the thick, pulsing head and savored this strong new flavor.

"You taste like sin," he growled.

Ace whimpered in response. Paul liked that he had reduced him to incoherent sounds. He wanted to make this man go non-verbal for hours, tease him past the breaking point. Wanted this man all night.

Where did that come from?He never wanted more than what was in the moment, from any man. But in this moment, Paul could see many nights filled with nothing but Ace, his body, his sounds, his flavor.

Speaking of which...

It had been a while since he'd taken a man in his mouth, and even longer since he'd had one so scrumptious at his disposal.

Really, though, had he ever known anyone like Ace? He doubted it.

The first true taste exploded on his tongue and made his blood sing with anticipation.

Paul toyed with the smooth crown head with his tongue before sending Ace deeper into his mouth. He hummed in greedy satisfaction.

"Shit." Ace gasped above him and let his hands fall to Paul's head.

Ace left his hands there and rode the relentless rhythm that Paul established. The dirty sounds of a wet blowjob filled the small bathroom and mingled with Ace's strangled moans and hungry sounds.

Ace proved to be a verbal lover, keeping up a steady stream of whimpers and muffled curses and rough, unsteady breaths.

Paul was glad to know his skills hadn't gotten too rusty. He'd love the opportunity to keep practicing.

He wanted to draw this out, tease this receptive, responsive cock until Ace begged. But he could feel Ace's balls draw up, signaling an end to his play time.

Maybe next time.There has to be a next time.

"Oh God, Paul," Ace gasped. "I'm gonna - if you don't - you need -"

Paul pulled off just long enough to growl, "Come for me. Give me your load." Then he plunged back down and sucked hard.

Ace's fingers tightened in Paul's hair and he pulled Paul's face close.