Weirder Than Hollywood

by xangel

Dedication: To Jane Mortimer, Cody, and Torch, without whose inspiration this story wouldn’t exist.

Rated: A for graphic sex and language, no violence.

Disclaimer: Dustin Yarma and Cory Raines belong to the screenwriters who created them and the production companies who hold their copyright. No infringement intended.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Dustin picked up the name plate on his desk and looked at it. At least it still said "Dustin Yarma, Producer" not "patsy." He was grateful for the deal he’d made with the District Attorney’s Office, but performing his community service by producing safety films with the cheapest possible casts, well ....

"Next!" he called out. Oh for the old days, when he could let the studio casting department handle it. Could it get much worse than this?

"Hey there."

The soft, all too familiar voice had his gaze rising quickly from the audition list on the desk. "Raines."

He’d met the person some believed to be his twin while in jail, serving time for manslaughter. Cory Raines had been in on theft charges; Dustin never had gotten the details. "You’re not on my audition list."

"I was in the area and thought I’d drop by. How’s my favorite little brother?" Exuding the charm that seemed as much a part of him as his blue-green eyes, Raines perched on the corner of Dustin’s desk. "Met any fun criminals lately?"

Dustin leaned back, putting as much space as possible between them without quite looking like he was in retreat. "Just the one I’m looking at."

"Ah, so you do think I’m fun." Raines’ grin broadened, his eyes twinkling.

"No! Absolutely not. A slip of the tongue on a very long, exhausting afternoon." To heck with trying to pretend the thief didn’t bother him. Dustin shoved his chair back and got up, moving over by the window.

Raines turned to face Dustin and gave him a slow seductive smile. "You never did properly pay me back for that favor I did you while we were both guests of the County. Speaking of slips of the tongue, I mean."

Dustin blushed. They both knew that without Raines’ help, Dustin’s stay in the L.A. County Jail would have been far worse. He owed Raines. But unlike the situation that put him into jail, this time he wasn’t about to get caught in a blackmail scheme. He brazened it out. "A contract made under duress is no contract at all. I owe you nothing."

Raines frowned. "I thought better of you despite that expensive suit, which looks great by the way, and all your Hollywood credits."

"Then you thought wrong." Dustin glared at his casually dressed, unwanted visitor. He couldn’t help but reluctantly notice just how well the faded jeans fit Raines, the degree to which certain areas were white from wear, or sandpaper as he’d heard one actor accuse another of doing, and the way the leather jacket and white t-shirt created an aura of danger. "Go away, or do I have to call Security?"

Raines sighed, and stood up. "Don’t bother. I’ll leave. For now." Suddenly, with remarkable speed, he was backing Dustin against the wall. "But only after I collect the first payment on your debt."

Dustin braced himself for a punch. The soft lick of a tongue across his lower lip caught him by surprise. He gasped, and inhaled the ineffable scent of Cory Raines -- the scent that had driven him into fantasies he’d hated himself for ever since they met.

Raines gave a soft chuckle, then took advantage of Dustin’s parted lips to slide his tongue within, to brush against Dustin’s tongue, tasting, exploring, sharing.

Cory tasted of coffee with cream and sugar, just the way Dustin drank his. Oh, god. Shocked more at his body’s response than at the kiss itself, Dustin flattened his hands against the wall behind him to prevent himself from pulling his assailant closer. He wanted to deepen the kiss and grind his groin against Cory’s, but he wouldn’t let himself do that. No matter how much he wanted to.

After an eternity that ended far too abruptly, Cory stepped back. He gave Dustin another one of those slow, seductive smiles. "Until next time, my young friend."

Dustin just stood there, stunned, as Cory turned and swept out of the office, almost as if he were wearing an opera cape and top hat. Dustin wanted to run after him. He wanted to beg for more. Yet the thought of further contact with the thief terrified him as well. He wasn’t homophobic – couldn’t be in Hollywood – but he always turned down offers from guys. It had never been difficult, until he met Cory Raines.

His wretched indecision was interrupted when the next actor stuck his head in the open doorway. "Mr. Yarma? The note said not to bother you when the door’s closed, so I didn’t. I’ve got another audition at four, so could I do this right now?"

Dustin nodded and returned to his chair. Why in the world had he told Cory where his office was? Had he also given the thief his cell phone number? Damn. Those long nights in jail had obviously made him confide way too much. For too little in return. He knew next to nothing about Raines, other than that they weren’t actually related.

The actor began reading the copy, but all Dustin could think about was the kiss. He knew he was narcissistic, the court-ordered shrink had made that quite clear, but kissing his virtual twin? Or was it more than that?

"Want me to try that again? Maybe with a bit more anger?" the actor asked.

"Huh? Oh, sure." Dustin knew he’d probably give the guy the part just to get him out of the office. Then he’d go home, and fantasize about what he’d do the next time he encountered his former cellmate. If there was a next time. Oh, God, please let there be a next time, if only to prove to himself that he was capable of resisting Raines’ charm. Yeah, right.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Just past The Colony, northbound on PCH, Cory was finally able to open the throttle on his latest toy, an old MG. The deep-throated roar of its engine, the vibration in the gear shift beneath his right hand, the cool kelp-scented Pacific air rushing over his windscreen, it all suited Cory perfectly.

As the little British Tan convertible bombed toward Ojai, Cory thought of Dustin. Now there was a man who’d lost the ability to laugh at life. If he’d ever had it. Maybe he’d always been scared of failure, of being ordinary.

Cory thought back to the others like him -- they weren’t clones since none of them seemed to be immortal like he was, but they certainly seemed to be his twins. He’d met quite a few over the past century. None of them prior to that, though there was the blonde woman who insisted he was a twin to her lost love, Tom Andrews. That was something like 150 years ago. Give or take a few decades.

More recently there was that nosy RCMP investigator, Mack Stringer. Now there was a guy immune to Cory’s charms. Pity, really. He was awfully cute, and far more together than that other cop, the eager puppy dog. What was his name? Ricky, that’s right. Ricky Caruso. Very enthusiastic, once he got over being shocked.

But none of them had tugged at his heart strings the way Dustin did. None of them needed him as badly, even if Dustin hadn’t realized it yet. What was he going to do with that boy?

His delightful musings on the subject took him all the way home, to his house in the hills above Ojai. As he closed the garage door and walked inside, he realized he’d made up his mind about the next step with Dustin. He went straight for the phone.

Three rings, and he heard, "Dustin."

"Cory Raines." He knew his grin was coming through loud and clear.

"What do you want?" Dustin sounded defensive.

Cory took the phone out onto the back deck and settled down on the chaise by the cedar hot tub. "Miss me little brother?"

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line. Then a pause as if hunting for an answer. "Maybe."

Cory gave a low chuckle. "I’m glad."

He let the silence grow, testing Dustin. When the silence hit the two minute mark and Dustin hadn’t hung up, Cory continued. "I’d like to invite you to dinner."

"Why?" Dustin’s voice reeked of suspicion.

"Because I want to."

"Oh."

Cory licked his lips at the hint of acceptance in that last response. "Would it be too soon to invite you to my place?"

"I, uh ...."

Poor Dustin was nearly stuttering. This was fun. "I’ll take that as a yes. I’m out in Ojai. 120 Oak Lane. Say, 8pm?"

"I have a screening tonight."

At least he hadn’t said no. "Yet another one, you mean. Is it one of your own films?"

"No."

"Then blow it off. C’mon, Dustin. Live a little. Take a risk."

Sudden silence from the other end of the line.

"Dustin? Hey, I didn’t mean that literally. No risk. I promise." The silence continued, but at least now he could hear Dustin breathing.

"Make it nine." It was followed by another heavy sigh, almost like a surrender.

"I’ll leave the light on. And Dustin?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Cory hung up before Dustin could change his mind.

He looked around and realized it was just as well he had that extra hour. He had a lot of prepping to do, starting with turning on the heater for the hot tub. Then there was dinner, clean sheets on the bed just in case, and ...

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Dustin's Porsche snarled at the rush hour traffic heading up PCH, though Dustin welcomed the chance to think about his apparently idiotic decision to accept the dinner invitation. He knew damn well how Cory hoped the evening would end. The guy had been flirting with him since they met!

Why hadn’t he been able to say no? Was it that Cory looked so much like him? At least Cory had waited until they were both out of jail before asking for payback. And thank heaven Dustin was through with the court-ordered psychiatric visits. Dr. Amherst would have a field day with this.

He turned on the radio to try and stop the squeak of the mental exercise wheel. "It's eight past the hour and time for the latest traffic report. The Golden State northbound has slowed to a crawl at Sherman Way due to a multi-car accident, while the Santa Monica westbound has been affected by a fenderbender at the Venice off-ramp. If you’re on PCH, it’ll be stop and go from Santa Monica all the way to Malibu."

Dustin looked up at the street sign by the stoplight ahead of him. Topanga Canyon. If he stayed on PCH it would clear out eventually, and it was the more direct route to Ventura and Ojai, but... He turned his blinker on and inched toward the right hand lane. Topanga ought to be clear, and then he could pick up the 101 in the Valley. Should miss the worst of it that way. Anything to keep moving – it was a chronic need for Angelenos.

A clunker took offense at Dustin trying to change lanes twenty feet shy of a stoplight, but he didn't care. He knew he was acting like a man obsessed, but right now not even the threat of damage to his beloved Porsche slowed him down. He’d made up his mind to accept Cory’s invitation, see Cory in private, and he wanted it over with.

He finally made the right-hand turn, got past the commercial businesses near the corner, then floored it. He loved taking the Canyon anyway. It was one of the only opportunities he got to open up the Porsche and drive to within an inch, with death only a traffic rail away.

"Shit!" The heel of his hand thumped hard against the steering wheel as his foot hit the brake. Apparently half of L.A. had also decided to take Topanga to the Valley. He checked his watch. Six-thirty. At this rate he'd be lucky to arrive by ten!

He’d better warn Cory. It would be polite, he told himself.

He nearly rear-ended the car in front of him, a battered old white Volvo, while trying to look at the incoming call log on his cell phone. There it was! He saved the number, tapped the accelerator, wrenched the steering wheel sideways to avoid hitting the Volvo who had yet to start moving, and then made the call.

"Raines."

"Hi." He realized he had no idea what to say. I’m running late sounded lame. But should he admit he'd been thinking of Cory ever since he received the invitation?

"Having a nice drive?" The laughter in Cory's voice was obvious.

"Hang on a sec!" Dustin was at a rare straight stretch, and he floored it to get past the damn Volvo that had to have cheated on its last smog check.

He fought his way back into traffic barely in time to avoid a head-on collision with a limo, but at least he wasn't inhaling Volvo exhaust. "Okay, I'm back. How'd you know I was driving?" Aw, shit. This time he was behind a diesel Mercedes. It smelled so lousy he almost wished he were still behind the Volvo.

"Beyond the cell-phone-in-the-canyon cut-outs, I can hear the purr of that engine. Porsche 911, right? The Carerra?" Cory sounded hopeful.

Dustin tried but failed to choke back a laugh. "Close, but everyone I knew with the Carrera swore it ought to come with a book of speeding tickets, given how often they got them."

"Makes sense. And no one ever complains about the way the cops profile cars."

"You’ve got that right." Dustin found himself grinning, and almost not minding the traffic. "We Porsche owners get no sympathy."

"I can promise you all the sympathy you want." The seduction in Cory's voice was blatant.

"Uh...." Damn. Cory could fluster him so easily.

Suddenly the tone of voice change. "You're not calling to cancel on me, are you?" Cory sounded worried.

"No. Oh, hang on again." Once more he race forward, ignoring the horns of lesser vehicles. "Okay, jumped three cars further into the Valley."

"You like jumping things, Dustin?"

Dustin blushed. "Sometimes."

"Good." There was a pregnant pause, then Cory continued. "I was thinking of serving frog legs for dinner."

Dustin laughed aloud and the last of his nervousness and rush hour stress faded. "I trust that’s an exaggeration?"

"Yeah." Cory sounded smug. "You know, even from here traffic sounds pretty wretched. Why don't you call me again when you pass the Ojai Golf Course and I'll direct you from there. My place is hidden away up one side of the canyon and difficult to find. I'd hate for you to get lost."

"I think I'm already lost," Dustin whispered, suddenly realizing that he’d already made up his mind to say yes to anything Cory suggested. And it went way beyond their twin-ness. It was the way Cory thought of his safety and made him laugh.

"What was that?" Cory asked.

Dustin cleared his throat. "Just talking to myself. Thanks, will do. Talk to you then." Dustin flipped the phone shut, cutting off the call. He was finally down at the lights just before Ventura Blvd., and had to pay attention again.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"Come on in." Cory held the door wide, his gaze taking in the picture Dustin presented. The younger man had changed from normal Hollywood Exec attire into a cream cashmere v-neck sweater worn with double-black jeans, and loafers, no socks.

Cory wasn’t sure which he wanted more, to grab Dustin and rip his clothes off, or get the poor guy to eat something. He’d lost weight since jail and he’d been pretty thin to start with. But the patience that had long ago enable Cory to take a deer down nearly every hunt told him he had to be careful stalking this young man, or risk losing him.

Damn, but he wanted him now! It was an urgency he hadn’t felt in far too long. He was grateful for the over-size sweater he’d put on after he got off the phone with Dustin; it partially hid the evidence of his interest. Fortunately, if his plan worked, Dustin would be demanding delightful things of him well before dawn.

There was a light sheen of sweat on the back of Dustin’s neck, visible as he walked past Cory, into the house. Obviously the young exec was feeling a little pressure of his own. Good. If only Cory didn’t have the nearly irresistible urge to taste that nape. Careful, Corwin, he cautioned himself.

"Nice place." Dustin looked around the large living room that combined California rustic with European antiques surprisingly well.

"Thanks. I’ve added a few small things of my own. Go ahead; take a look around. I’ve got the place until the next music festival." Did he need to add that the owners didn’t know he was their tenant? Probably not. "The hot tub is ready, and I’ve put out a robe on the bed in the guest room. Third door down the hall to your left."

That should raise some questions in young Dustin’s mind, Cory thought with a smile.

Cory headed into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the margaritas, then took them out on the back deck. It was too cold this time of year to worry about bugs, so he had the small patio lights on all along the deck railing.

"When you’re done, come on out back. I already have towels," Cory called to Dustin.

He waited, ears straining, until he heard the guest room door open, then slowly stripped his clothes off. Let the prey get a nice look at the bait. Or was it the carrot? Cory looked down as he eased the jeans past his erection. Carrot was definitely the wrong term. Besides, the larger a carrot was, the less tasty, and he hoped to be very edible.

He stepped into the tub to the first step, down to his knees, then turned so Dustin could get a full view if he so chose, before dropping down into the almost painfully hot water. Immortal or not, he winced when the water reached his thighs and higher. But if it didn’t hurt going in, it was too cold to keep him warm later.

Cory was just settling onto the seat, his back against the side of the hot tub, when Dustin came out of the house. All those years in Southern California gave Dustin’s skin a more golden shade than Cory’s, so the sapphire blue silk robe Cory had chosen for him was perfect.

Dustin hesitated at the edge of the tub, his hands on the robe’s tie.

Cory hid a grin, then tipped his head back to rest on the decking, and closed his eyes. Most of the way closed, anyway. "Don’t mind me. Come on in. The water may take some getting used to, though."

Dustin turned away and started to shed the robe, then gave an obvious but small shrug, turned, and let the robe slide off his shoulders. He caught it with a deft hand, tossed it onto the nearest chaise lounge, on top of Cory’s clothes, then took the first step into the water.

Could that total a halt be called freezing when it was caused by heat, Cory wondered, appreciating the view. Dustin had been working out since Cory had last seen him; he wasn’t just thin. In fact he looked damn impressive.

"You weren’t kidding! Are you trying to parboil me?" Dustin asked breathlessly.

"I said it took some getting used to. Just like all the best things in life," Cory drawled.

Dustin blushed. At least it kind of looked that way in the dim light. But it might have been the heat snaking up those long, lean thighs, past the semi-erect cock, up the almost washboard stomach, past the pecs crowned with small brownish nipples... Cory gave up on pretending to keep his eyes closed. The view was too good to be interrupted by eyelashes.

Dustin was staring at the water, entirely focussed on not retreating from the pain that was inevitably fading as his body adjusted. Cory didn’t move, didn’t do anything to remind Dustin he was there.

Slowly, Dustin completed the step down, bringing his second foot into the water. He shivered from the pain, sending a ripple across his skin. "You’re sure this isn’t too hot? I mean, your pain tolerance seems to be a lot higher than mine."

That had been Cory’s explanation for why the beatings he took (and gave) didn’t seem to have any major affect when they were in jail together. "You should try a hot tub in Japan. They sometimes have them as high as 120 degrees Fahrenheit. This is only 102. I bet you’ve had fevers hotter than that."

Dustin looked across at Cory in surprise. "One hundred twenty? How do they stand it?"

"Practice." Cory grinned wickedly.

"Oh." Dustin hesitated, then continued. "And why do you always identify temperatures with Fahrenheit? Are you used to living where they use Centigrade?" Dustin was so busy thinking that he finished his climb into the hot tub with nary a wince. Fascinating.

"I’ve been in just about every country there is, at one time or another," Cory responded.

Dustin looked disbelieving. "But you can’t be more than a couple of years older than I am! How?"

Cory laughed. "I’m a little older than I look." He quickly changed the subject. "Margarita?" Dustin nodded.

Cory leaned over and filled each salt-rimmed glass from the pitcher. As he handed Dustin his glass, Cory intentionally slopped some of the icy tequila mixture onto Dustin’s bare shoulder.

"Shit that’s cold!"

"I’m sorry." Cory waited until Dustin took his glass, then carefully rinsed the margarita from Dustin’s skin with handfuls of hot water, never quite touching his young friend as he let the water flow from his cupped hand down over the lightly muscled shoulder. Then he returned to his side of the tub, and sipped his drink, watching Dustin.

Dustin’s eyes were closed, and from his expression Cory wasn’t sure whether he was seeing the agony of pain or pleasure. Or even better, perhaps both at once. Cory smiled to himself. Matthew, his first Immortal teacher, had been right all those years ago. Sometimes plans were good things. Sometimes, Cory repeated. Long as he didn’t have to always have one. But in this case... Time to move ahead.

"Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, we can eat."

Dustin’s eyes popped open, almost as if he’d forgotten Cory was there. "Uh, yeah."

Cory laughed. "Just let me know when. I’m easy." He raised his glass in a silent toast to Dustin, and then keeping his gaze locked with Dustin’s, Cory slowly licked the salt off part of the rim of his glass. Dustin was the first to blink and look away. Then his gaze snapped back to Corey.

"’Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?’" Dustin asked in a fair imitation of the young Dustin Hoffman.

Cory’s shoulders tensed a little. He hadn’t anticipated being questioned, didn’t think Dustin had the courage. He’d just wanted to tease Dustin so much that Dustin made the first move. Okay, on to his normal way of doing things -- winging it. "That depends."

Dustin sipped from his own salt rimmed glass, then slowly licked the excess salt off the corner of mouth with the tip of his tongue. "Depends on what?"

Cory smiled; he couldn’t help it. "On whether you’re seducible."

"What if I’m not?" Dustin had genuine curiosity in his tone and expression.

"Then..." Cory considered and discarded a half-dozen responses. Finally he shrugged. "Then you’re not. As my grandfather might have said, I’m not about to get my knickers in a twist over it."

Dustin gave him a slow smile, one which undoubtedly got any actress he wanted onto his casting couch. "You may be easy, but I prefer to have dinner first."

Cory laughed happily. So he hadn’t misjudged his former cellmate. "You got it. How do enchiladas sound?"

"Better than frog legs." Dustin’s smile turned into a very Cory-esque grin.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"That was wonderful." Dustin leaned back in his chair and examined the pillaged platter of enchiladas.

"Thanks." Cory flashed Dustin a grin. "Why don’t you just relax, while I clean up." Cory eased his chair back from the table, and began clearing their dishes.

Dustin took Cory at his word and closed his eyes, listening to the quiet domestic sounds of bare feet against saltillo tiles, the faint scrape of stoneware plates rubbing against each other as they were stacked, the rip of foil being pulled off the roll followed by repeated crinkling as it was pressed around the edges of the pan the enchiladas had been baked in and the leftovers.

Once upon a time he’d preferred the sounds of a restaurant and fine china, the sounds of money and deal-making. But that was before Minnow, Darcy’s defection, and ... the accident. No matter how he tried, he could never get the thunk the champagne bottle had made against that poor girl’s skull out of his head. It had even drowned out the clang of the jail cell doors after he’d turned himself in.

He shivered in his silk robe, wrapping his arms around himself. He even hated the smell of the ocean these days; it reminded him too much of that night, and the night that led up to it.

"You okay?" Cory’s voice was soft, just like it’d been that horrible second night in jail, after the beating, when Dustin couldn’t stop shaking long enough to sleep.

But this time he was safe and not in pain. "Yeah, I’m fine." Dustin shoved the memories into the back of his brain, and turned with an almost genuine smile towards Cory. "What’s for dessert?"

Cory’s eyes twinkled as he returned to the table and stood by Dustin’s chair. "Perhaps a massage?"

Suddenly Dustin reached up for the back of Cory’s neck, and pulled Cory down towards him. With a desperation bred from those memories, he kissed Cory, hard. Anything to not be alone and afraid.

Without breaking the lip lock, Cory hauled Dustin up from the chair for a full body press, which Dustin gratefully returned.

He’d never kissed someone the same height. It was strange.

Suddenly Dustin’s brain kicked back into gear, and he stiffened. Why in hell was he doing this? That’s when Cory changed tactics and shifted from Dustin’s mouth to his jaw, leaving a trail of soft bites and licks from Dustin’s chin to beneath his left ear.

Dustin moaned deep in his throat and surrendered. He pressed tightly against Cory, needing Cory’s strength and warmth, all of which were obvious through Cory’s black silk robe, a match in all but color to Dustin’s. Cory’s hands shifted, one still holding him snugly at the hip, the other going up to cradle the back of Dustin’s head.

"You okay?" Cory asked again, this time for very different reasons.

Dustin slowly opened his eyes, only now realizing he’d had them closed from the moment he’d first grabbed Cory. Cory’s eyes stared at him from inches away. They were the same kaleidoscope of green, blue, and hazel that he’d seen in photos of himself, but they seemed like old eyes, eyes that had seen far more than Dustin could imagine.

"I don’t know," was the best answer he could come up with, when he got his voice and brain back after being lost in those eyes.

"Then why don’t we try this again, a little more slowly, and maybe it’ll help you figure it out." Cory smiled at Dustin, then tipped his head sideways and oh so gently brushed his lips across Dustin’s.

This time Dustin’s eyes closed on purpose, the better to savor the sensations. He held very still, barely breathing, and Cory gave a soft chuckle.

"You like that, do you?"

On the soft exhale of a yes, Cory slid the tip of his tongue within, not to invade but to taste the inside of Dustin’s lower lip. Dustin shivered and unknowingly dug his fingernails into Cory’s back, needing more.

Cory changed angles, this time running his tongue across the front of Dustin’s teeth, then behind them as Dustin’s lips parted further, in welcome.

The feel of Cory’s tongue against the roof of his mouth, combined with the strength with which Cory was holding him gave him a feeling of safety, liberating Dustin. He returned the kiss in full measure, sliding his tongue against Cory’s, twining around it, now rubbing, now dancing with the tip against Cory’s tongue, before plunging into Cory’s mouth, taking where before he had submitted.

Lips throbbing, Dustin eventually drew his head back enough to look at Cory again, and opened his eyes. He was relieved Cory appeared to be as dazed as he felt. While Dustin had known there was a certain amount of sexual energy going on between the two of them, and had figured Cory would seduce him, he’d never imagined it would be this intense, this good.

"Who’s seducing whom?" Cory asked breathlessly, his chest heaving as much as Dustin’s as he fought for air.

It was Dustin’s turn to chuckle. "I think what we have here is the ideal favored nations contract. Whatever one gets, the other gets equally."

"Trust a Hollywood exec to put it in legal terms," Cory said with mock sadness. "Does that mean if I escalate things, you will too?"

"I’ll do my best to meet your demands, and match them," Dustin answered with a smile. "So, which room is yours?"

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Cory pushed open the door to the master suite. This room was the second reason he’d chosen the house, the first being the privacy of being backed against one side of the canyon. He looked at Dustin’s face, trying to read what he saw there.

Dustin’s gaze swept the room, from the sitting area on the left, to the massive antique mahogany four poster bed with carved wooden tester that looked like it belonged in a Spanish castle, to the sunken bath by the window, to the dressing area with the rest of the bathroom beyond. The lighting was subdued, and there was the scent of ... sandalwood? He turned back toward Cory and an impish smile appeared. "If I’d known this was here, I might have skipped dinner."

Cory laughed, and reached for the knot on the sash of Dustin’s silk robe.

Dustin placed his hands over Cory’s, stopping them. "We need to talk first."

Cory batted Dustin’s hands away. "I thought we had talked, over dinner."

Dustin took a step back, out of Cory’s reach. "Seriously, Cory. I have to know up front if there’s anything we should be careful about."

Cory couldn’t figure out what Dustin was talking about, then it dawned on him. Oh, right. That. He couldn’t help himself; he chuckled. "I don’t worry about that."

Dustin looked shocked. "Then I may have made a mistake. Because I *do* worry. You should too."

Cory sighed. He couldn’t fault the boy, but he wasn’t in the mood for explanations right now. "Can’t you just trust me?"

"Sorry, but no." The regret was obvious in Dustin’s voice. "People lie far too easily about this stuff."

"Okay. Stay put." Cory headed for the dressing area. He went straight for the back corner, knelt on the floor, and pulled out a large trunk. He took the lock pick out from under the tape on the front, and deftly picked the lock. It popped open, and he pulled the lid up.

The top tray was cushioned with flannel, and held a large sword, a rapier, and a dagger. From over his shoulder he heard the rustle of silk against lightly furred legs.

"That’s a pretty impressive collection! But ... Do I want to know what that has to do with safe sex?" Dustin asked hesitantly.

"You don’t take orders well, do you? I told you to stay there," Cory said without heat. He lifted out his dagger, slid it into his sash, then closed the trunk back up.

"That looked a lot like one of the Marto blades. But I’ve never seen one look used like that. How do you keep the finish? And who’d you find to sharpen it?"

"I sharpen my blades myself," Cory said as he stood and turned to face Dustin. "C’mon, into the bathroom. I’d prefer to not stain the floor."

In the well-lit, beautifully appointed marble bathroom, Cory turned to face Dustin, taking the dagger in his right hand. "Remember how I told you back in jail that I can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’?"

"Yeah...."

"I wasn’t joking. Look." Cory drew one edge of the blade across his left palm. Blood swelled up instantly, and Cory winced.

"God, Cory!" Dustin lunged for him to take the dagger away, but Cory used his shoulder to block the attempt.

"Just watch. It’s okay!" In the mirror he watched Dustin’s face as his hand healed with an Immortal’s customary speed. When it was done, he returned the dagger to his sash then scratched the palm – somehow he always itched after he healed. He looked at Dustin. "I don’t get sick. I have some kind of boosted immune system that both heals me from cuts and bruises, just like you saw in jail, and takes care of any little infection, whether it’s herpes, HIV or whatever."

"So ...." Dustin was having problems accepting this, apparently.

"So even if you have something, I can’t catch it. We can just have fun."

Dustin continued staring at Cory’s now-healed hand for a moment, then his head snapped up. "Me? I don’t have anything. And I get tested every six months."

Cory heaved a sigh. "Then what’s the problem? Or have you changed your mind? Or," he stepped closer to Dustin, "do you need a reminder of just how good it can be?" He smiled and reached again for the knot of Dustin’s sash.

"I guess I’ve just never not worried."

Cory pulled the knot loose. "Then I think you’re way overdue." Cory pulled Dustin closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "If you’ve changed your mind, this is your last chance to say so. Beyond this point, I’m invoking that favored nations contract you brought up after dinner."

Dustin leaned forward, went on tiptoe, and licked Cory’s nose. "Point passed."

With a melodramatic sigh of relief, Cory shook his head. "Now why don’t we rewind back to where we were when you so rudely interrupted?"

"Not rude. Necessary," Dustin said with a hint of mulish stubbornness.

"Whatever! C’mon."

Hauling Dustin along by the sash of his robe, Cory led the way back through the dressing room, taking time only to drop his dagger on top of the trunk, back into the enormous bedroom. He pushed Dustin into his earlier position where he’d first gotten a look at the bed, and resumed his own place. "Okay. Let’s start over. Like the room?"

Dustin ignored the room and watched Cory. A slow, seductive smile appeared on his face, and his hands reached for the knot holding Cory’s black silk robe closed. "The room’s okay, but I prefer what I’m looking at."

Cory shivered as Dustin parted the edges of the silk, then ran the pads of his fingers up from mid-chest to Cory's throat. From there, Dustin’s fingers lightly traced Cory’s collarbone out to the shoulders.

"Nice," Dustin whispered. "Very nice. Don’t move, please."

Cory complied with unaccustomed meekness as Dustin ran one hand along the side of Cory’s neck, over the pulse point, still using the lightest brush of the pads of his fingertips, around to the nape of Cory’s neck. There his other hand joined the first and they ran down Cory’s spine, pulling the robe down off Cory’s shoulders as they went. The soft silk slid down past his ass, his calves, to rest against his heels, pooling at his feet.

Dustin looked, and looked, his hooded eyes hiding his thoughts though his body betrayed his fascination. Moments later the sapphire blue sash from Dustin’s robe eased over Cory’s eyes. There was a slight tug on his hair as it was knotted just behind one ear.

"Ahh," Cory breathed softly as touch and hearing kicked into high gear to make up for the loss of sight.

"I want to explore, but not without your permission." As Dustin spoke, Cory felt his fingertips brushing against Cory’s skin, now on one hip, down a thigh, along a forearm, all innocent touches but each one an incitement to passion.

"Yes." Cory gasped out, fighting to stand still, to keep from begging for more.

"Yes, what?" Dustin asked with a satisfied chuckle, his hands continuing to touch as he circled Cory again and again.

"Anything! Anything you want." Just don’t stop, Cory continued in his head. The seduction he’d planned by teasing young Dustin had succeeded far beyond his expectations. For once it seemed it was his turn to be the one seduced, teased and tormented. It was heaven.

"Thank you."

Immediately a fingernail scraped across one nipple, and Cory gasped, his hands closing into fists at his sides. He wanted to demand Dustin drop to his knees so Cory could shove into his mouth, but he’d wait. For now. Next he felt fingernails being drawn up the backs of his thighs. His knees quivered and he swallowed tightly, his cock aching painfully.

"I’m going to move you over by the bed. Come with me." Cory felt Dustin’s hand circling his wrist, pulling him across the room. But instead of pushing him onto the bed, as Cory expected, he was pushed against one of the square corner posts. "Now stand there until I tell you to move."

Cory had no idea what Dustin had in mind, and the uncertainty was incredibly arousing. It wasn’t easy to surprise a nearly eight hundred year old Immortal, but so far Dustin was doing a good job of it.

He heard the creak of the mattress. Was Dustin standing on the bed? Before he had the chance to figure it out, he received another order. "Put your arms above your head."

Cory hesitated. Dustin wanted to tie him up? What if this was all just a trap? Crap, what if one of the many immortals he’d pissed off over the centuries was using Dustin as bait, and soon as Cory was vulnerable, would be in the house, in the bedroom, with a sword to take his head?

Shit! Cory reached for the blindfold, furious with himself for getting into this situation, all desire forgotten in the need to survive.

"Please?" Dustin begged.

What if someone Dustin cared about was being threatened, forcing him to do this? Cor cursed his own stupidity and fought with the knot on the blindfold, which was caught in his hair.

Suddenly he felt a very naked Dustin pressed up against his back, arms around his waist. "Cor, please? I’ve only been with a guy once. It was a long time ago, back in college, and it wasn’t very much fun. I’m a little nervous and somehow it’s easier to simply forget everything but you and have fun if at least for now, I’m in control. Please?"

Cory leaned his forehead against the bedpost. He hated having no control at all. Scared the hell out of him. He’d nearly lost his head last time this had happened, let his guard down too far and trusted the wrong person. He was so much more comfortable being the seducer than the seducee, he realized, no matter how much he enjoyed the latter in fantasy.

There was a soft sigh and Dustin’s chin lifted off Cory’s shoulder. "Nevermind. It’s a lot to ask. Especially since despite jail and this evening, we really don’t know each other that well."

Cory took a deep breath. "Dustin, stop. It’s okay. You just surprised me."

"You sure?" There was hope in Dustin’s voice.

Cory tried to relax. "I understand wanting to be in control, more than you can imagine." He thought furiously for a moment. "What if you tell me why you want my hands over my head, and we come up with a way that you get your fantasy, but it’s still comfortable for me?"

There was silence, then a defensive voice. "I wanted to tie you up and do things."

When Dustin stopped there, Cory sighed. "Could you be a little more specific?"

Silence. Then the warmth from Dustin’s body disappeared, as did the blindfold, pulling a few hairs out in the process. "Nevermind."

Cory turned to look at Dustin. He couldn’t help wondering if *he* had ever looked or sounded that sulky. Then remembered a certain incident with a Scotsman and their mutual girlfriend, and accepted that he probably had. Once.

"Dustin?"

"What."

Cory took a deep breath and reminded himself just how young Dustin was. "Look, you made me answer your safe sex questions, ruining my mood, and now you resent my bringing up my own sensitive area. What happened to just having fun together?"

Dustin glared at him. "It’s not fun anymore. You wrecked the mood."

Cory rolled his eyes. Now he remembered why he didn’t often get involved with mortals. He could bid Dustin good-night and push him out the door, or he could try and save the evening. A longer look at Dustin, and he had to admit the boy was gorgeous. Dustin might be worth the effort, if he’d quit sulking. Gods!

Cory was suddenly too tired to argue. "I’m going to bed. You can sleep in here with me, or take the guest room, your choice." He turned his back on Dustin and headed for the bathroom.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Dustin heard the toilet flush, and wondered if he’d ever stop being a selfish idiot. Cory was right. Cor had listened to his health concerns, but he’d ignored Cory’s worries. Cory had no reason to trust Dustin with his life, which was ultimately what he’d be doing if he’d let Dustin tie him up like that. All because Dustin was sufficiently shy in the situation that he preferred a helpless Cory. Shit.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t want Cory. He did! He wanted to continue touching him, tasting him. And more.

He heard the shower start. Great. Probably a cold one. Or was he deluding himself yet again? Maybe Cory no longer wanted anything to do with him? Maybe he should just go home?

He spun around to head to the guest room and his clothes, then staggered. He grabbed for the bedpost before he fell over. He tried to remember how many margaritas he’d had. Cory had topped off his glass a lot, so he’d lost track. Maybe he’d better not drive right away, especially since a DUI would violate his parole and put him back in jail.

In the past Cor hadn’t said anything he didn’t mean, so why not take him seriously this time? Dustin stood up slowly. He felt okay. He wasn’t that drunk, long as he didn’t move quickly. He focused on the bed, and took careful steps, one at a time, towards what he guessed was the opposite side from Cory’s favorite, going by the clock on the nightstand. Hauling back the down comforter and rest of the bedcovers, he crawled in.

Only after he collapsed, his head spinning slightly, did he notice the sheets. He’d never felt anything like them. Certainly not Egyptian cotton or damask. He’d have to ask Cory what they were when he came out of the shower. Their slightly rough texture seemed comforting somehow. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders, and closed his eyes to savor the feeling of safety.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Dustin woke up with an urgent need for the bathroom, and a hangover. Couldn’t remember where he was, but he saw a night light across the room, reflecting off a marble floor. That had to be it.

He stumbled out of bed, down a clothes-lined hallway, and into the bathroom. Couldn’t be a hotel room, could it? Damn. Where in hell was he? He dealt with his bladder, then looked around for a clue to his location.

Ah. That’s right. He was at Cory’s house in Ojai. He returned to the bedroom. Yeah, there was Cory’s head on the pillow.

Should he sneak out? Pretend this had never happened? Wouldn’t be the first time. He’d certainly done it to enough women over the years, before he met Darcy.

He crept closer to the bed, looking at his "twin." Despite the numerous compliments he’d received over the years about his eyelashes, it wasn’t until he saw them on Cory that he realized just how long they really were. He’d always taken them for granted.

Cory’s eyes slowly opened. "Wouldn’t you be warmer under the covers?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah." Dustin went around the bed, back to his own side, and crawled in. He shivered. He’d left the covers thrown back, and they’d lost the warmth from his body.

"C’mere," Cory said, barely awake. "I promise; I’m too tired to molest you right now."

Dustin hesitated, still shivering, then took Cory up on the invitation, scooting over to Cory’s warm side of the bed. Cory wrapped his arms around Dustin, pulling him close. "Thanks," Dustin whispered, and soon fell back asleep.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Next time Dustin woke up the sun was shining, the room was warmer, and his head was on Cory’s shoulder, one of his arms draped across Cory’s chest. He looked up to see Cory watching him warily.

"Hi."

"Morning," Cory responded cautiously.

"I’m sorry about last night."

"Me too."

"I’m not normally that much of a jerk."

Cory gave a quiet chuckle. "I should hope not."

Dustin didn’t stop to think, he simply slid one hand down to grasp Cory’s cock, turgid with a morning erection. "Please, let me apologize properly."

Cory’s eyes widened.

Without giving himself time to think, Dustin gave in to impulse and kicked the covers off both of them. He shifted position until he was straddling Cory’s thighs.

He leaned forward, took Cory’s lower lip delicately between his teeth and tugged. When Cory reached for him to deepen the kiss, he smiled. "I want you." That’s all he had time for as Cory’s hands cradled his head, angling it, and their lips met hard, furious, passionate, making up for the lost time the night before, their tongues dueling for supremacy, for possession of the other’s mouth.

Dustin pulled free only to sink his teeth lightly into Cory’s throat, then licked the impression they left. Cory shivered.

The hollow on either side of Cory’s neck, formed by the collarbones, got Dustin’s attention next. This time a slow brush of his tongue, then a soft exhalation, chilling the skin he’d dampened. Cory twisted beneath him and Dustin pressed Cory’s shoulders against the bed. "You’re mine," he declared fiercely.

Cory responded by reaching up and pulling Dustin’s head back down for another soul-destroying kiss.

Dustin broke the kiss by raking his fingernails down Cory’s chest, over the sensitive nipples, down to the jutting hipbones. Cory gasped and bucked beneath him. "Dustin!"

"Yes," Dustin agreed with a possessive smile. He shifted down Cory’s body and again one hand grasped Cory’s swollen shaft. Slowly, his gaze never leaving Cory’s face, he licked his lips, then lowered his head. Like savoring an ice cream cone, first he reached out with his tongue, swirling it around the tip, using the top, sides, and underside of his tongue before catching the first drop at the peak. Cory groaned, thrusting up into Dustin’s hand.

Dustin took Cory into his mouth, first just between his lips, holding it so his tongue could lap at the juices beginning to form. Cory’s eyes closed. Then with pressure from the tip of his tongue against the vein on the underside, Dustin slid down onto Cory’s cock, taking it deeply into his mouth, holding it there for a long moment before creating suction and slowly withdrawing up its length.

"Shit!" Cory exclaimed, thrusting so hard he nearly bucked Dustin off. "Don’t stop!"

Dustin chuckled. "No intention of doing so, Cor." Using every bit of technique absorbed from all the women who’d ever done him, Dustin licked, delicately scraped with his teeth, and sucked Cory into a frenzy. Then pressed hard on the vein at the base of Cory’s cock with his thumb. Cory groaned, his body fighting for release but the pressure prevented it, prolonging the intense sensations.

"Not yet, Cory." Dustin shifted again, this time to push Cory’s legs apart so he could kneel between them. With one hand holding Cory’s cock, keeping it warm and out of the way, Dustin cradled Cory’s balls in the other. He blew on them softly, watching Cory squirm, then did one long lick across the balls then up the cock from base to tip. Cory reached up and grabbed the headboard, his knuckles white with the pressure.

Dustin took Cory’s shaft into his mouth so deeply he nearly choked and his nose was pressed against Cory’s stomach. He worked it hard, sucking, sliding, while his thumb pressed firmly, preventing Cory from coming, and the other gently fondled Cory’s balls. Dustin focused on the sensitive head again, his tongue lapping at it, drawing circles with the tip of his tongue, then sucking hard on it. Suddenly he released the pressure with his thumb, and slid down again, taking it all.

Cory came hard, thrusting deep into Dustin’s throat.

Dustin swallowed fast, over and over until there was nothing left. When he knew Cory was finished, at least for now, he slowly slid up off the spent shaft with one final slurp at the head.

Cory groaned, exhausted.

Dustin licked a drop of come from the corner of his mouth and grinned down at Cory. "Was that an okay apology for last night?"

Cory nodded, still panting.

Dustin returned to his own side of the bed and watched Cory recover.

Finally Cory could talk again. "If word got out you gave blow jobs that well, you’d have to beat them off with a stick!"

Dustin grinned. "I prefer my hand for beating off, thanks anyway."

Cory whapped Dustin with his pillow, then revealed a slow and dangerous smile. "I think it’s my turn now." He pulled Dustin’s shoulder toward him, so Dustin was lying on his stomach.

"Uh, Cor, I only tried this once and let’s just say it didn’t go well." Dustin wasn’t going to tell Cory not to, but he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Do you trust me?" Cory asked as he got up on his knees.

"I think so."

"Foolish boy," Cory said with a wicked chuckle.

Dustin started to move, to escape, when a sharp slap on one buttock cheek made him jump. "Hey!"

"Seriously, Dustin. Make up your mind. Do you trust me?"

Dustin swallowed tightly. "Yeah." He braced himself, and so was totally unprepared for the gentle stroke of Cory’s hands from his hips up to his shoulders, and back down. He began to relax.

Cory leaned over him to open a previously hidden cupboard in the carved headboard and pull something out. Cory moved too quickly for Dustin to see what it was, but the next stroke was warm and slippery. Dustin sniffed. "Sandalwood?"

Cory continued the massage. "Uh-huh."

"You keep this up, and I’ll fall back asleep."

"That’s okay." There was amusement in Cory’s voice, so Dustin shrugged and surrendered to the warmth of Cory’s hands on his back, shoulders, upper arms, the tight muscles in his neck and scalp.

He was just on the edge of sleep when he realized that Cory’s hands had been moving between his buttocks and his upper thighs for some time, kneading the muscles, smoothing them, working out knots he didn’t even know he had. It only felt a little strange when Cory pressed his cheeks apart with his thumbs, continuing to work the oil into Dustin’s skin and along the crease. Dustin eased his thighs apart to give Cory easier access.

Cory’s thumbs pressed deeply into the cheek muscle on either side, and suddenly he felt cool air against his skin. "Wha’cha doin’?" Careful enunciation took too much work.

He felt Cory’s chuckle more than heard it. "It’s called ‘rimming,’ Dustin." Before he could ask for details, he realized what he felt in the cleft and around the ridge of muscle forming the external part of his anal sphincter was Cory’s tongue. He felt he should be shocked; but it felt too good.

He released a very relaxed sigh that turned into a surprised inhale as he felt the tip of Cory’s tongue attempt to penetrate. "It can’t!" He gasped. "You can’t!"

Again Cory chuckled. "Actually I have something else in mind." Cory pressed against Dustin’s back and retrieved something else from the headboard. "This may be a little on the cool side, but you’ll appreciate that very soon."

Dustin began to tense. Last time someone tried this it hurt like hell. How could it not?

A cool, soothing gel slid down the crease, drawn by Cory’s fingers, but instead of the fingers forcing their way in, they simply went around the pink ridge. But Dustin couldn’t relax. He was sure he knew what was coming.

Suddenly Cory’s hand smacked one cheek. As it impacted, and Dustin jumped with an "ow!", one of Cory’s Slip-covered fingers pressed hard against the sphincter and was inside. Dustin froze.

"Would you relax!" Cory ordered. "Yes, it can hurt, but not this time, Dustin. I’ll prove it to you."

Cory’s long finger slid slowly in and out, the knuckles making Dustin very aware of the movement. But Cory was right. It didn’t hurt. It felt odd, certainly. And there was a strange sort of heat, but it wasn’t the same thing as pain.

"That’s better," Cory said soothingly.

The pressure got worse, then Dustin realized Cory had added a second finger, spreading him wider. He buried his face in the pillow, embarrassed. The worst wasn’t that it was Cory’s fingers up his ass, but that he was starting to enjoy it.

More coolness as Cory added more Slip and the fingers slid deep this time, all the way in. Dustin could feel Cory’s remaining fingers and thumb pressed hard against him, the thumb making little circles right behind his balls. Suddenly Dustin was hit by a tidal wave of sensation. Cory laughed softly and his fingers and thumb returned to exactly the same place and movement. Dustin’s cock got almost instantly rock hard and each movement of his hips abraded it further against the rough sheet. Dustin groaned.

"Do you like that?" Cory asked, obviously not expecting a negative answer.

Dustin grunted a yes as his hips thrust up toward Cory’s hand. But then the hand was withdrawn. Dustin whimpered.

Cory put a hand on either side of Dustin’s hips and pulled him partway up onto his knees, the rest of his weight on his shoulders and forearms. His cheeks were pressed far apart, and then the pressure grew. The heat as the sphincter was forced to expand beyond the previous two fingers’ width increased just shy of the point of pain. Then more pressure and it edged into pain.

Dustin whimpered. "Stop. Please."

Cory did, but didn’t withdraw. "I’m not going to move. Tell me when it’s okay again."

To Dustin’s surprise, the pain did ease off, turning into heat. "Okay."

Cory pulled out a little, then grasped Dustin’s hips and thrust firmly, slowly, until he was buried inside Dustin. Cory gave an odd little laugh. "God, Dustin. And I thought your mouth was great."

Dustin’s entire awareness was focused on the cock shoved deep inside him. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want it to hurt, but didn’t want the heat and hint of pain to stop either.

Cory leaned forward, pressing his chest against Dustin’s back. He licked the nape of Dustin’s neck. "You’re incredible, Dustin." His left arm reached around Dustin’s waist to hold Dustin firmly against him, and his right wrapped around Dustin’s aching shaft.

Dustin shoved back against Cory, trying to get Cory to jerk him off, which also resulted in pressing Cory’s cock deeper. He groaned. "Please, Cor! Fuck me!"

"You’ve got the control, Dustin." Cory breathed in Dustin’s ear, his hand and hips unmoving, waiting for Dustin to decide how fast, how deep.

Desperately needing release, Dustin thrust back against Cory, then forward into Cory’s hand. The hand felt so incredible and he needed it so badly he no longer cared about the embarrassment of Cory’s penetration. He fucked Cory’s hand as hard, as fast as he could, aware that Cory’s breathing was increasing until he too was panting as his own climax approached.

Suddenly, Cory could apparently be patient no longer. He grabbed Dustin’s shoulder with one hand, his hip with the other and pushed Dustin down onto the bed against the sheet, as he took him hard and fast. Dustin could feel Cory’s balls slapping against his own, the sound of sweaty skin against skin, the scent that screamed sex.

Dustin came against the sheet and almost immediately Cory came deep in his ass. The feel of Cory’s spasms inside him almost got Dustin hard again. He whimpered.

They both collapsed, Cory still inside him, Dustin on his own wet spot. Dustin was too exhausted, satiated, and incredulous to move in those first few minutes.

Finally Cory slid out, and rolled off Dustin. "You okay?"

Dustin, face still in the pillow from an inability to move, nodded.

Cory gave an exhausted chuckle, and pushed Dustin off the wet spot onto his side so Cory could look at him. "Seriously, Dustin. You okay?"

Dustin worked his tongue in his mouth. It was incredibly dry after all that panting. Okay, and moaning, gasping and yelling. Finally he got enough moisture back to reply. "Yeah, I think so."

Cory flopped over onto his back, staring at the carved wood panels on the tester above him. "Good."

"Cor?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell are these sheets made of?"

Cory gave a startled laugh, then rolled back to face Dustin. "The sheets? They’re linen. Why?"

"Just curious. Never felt anything like them."

"Takes a long time for linen to reach this point of softness."

"Didn’t feel all *that* soft when you were driving me into the mattress," Dustin muttered not really complaining.

"That why I’ve got such a large wet spot in the middle of my bed?" Cory asked with a smile.

"One of the reasons," Dustin responded, with a faint grin.

"So, sleep, shower, or breakfast?"

"Uh-huh."

"You got it. Go back to sleep. We’ve got the rest of the weekend ahead of us. We have only begun to play."

As Dustin drifted off he smiled. It was going to be a great weekend.

End

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

| Alex Annex | Characters | Stories/Alpha | Stories/Author | Home |