Disclaimer: Don't own...too bad.
Summary: There's something about Rusty.
Cappy's not gay. Just for the record. He's a college student, it's pretty much in his job description to fool around- it's never serious anyways. He's not really a serious guy.
He loves girls, curves that tantalized and soft lips that drove you crazy. But he's still messed around. Sometimes curves and soft lips weren't enough- sometimes there was a craving for a lean body, rasping stubble and a grappling fight for dominance. Not many could catch his attention anyways- Evan had before they had become mortal enemies.
But he's still not gay.
Except- the pale body stretched out on his bed, eyes lidded with lust had not only caught his attention, but had held it as well.
It scares him and exhilarates him how the boy (young man?) constantly circles his thoughts. He'd do almost anything for the brotherhood- had time and time again; but every time he'd gone that one step further for him. Spitter. Rusty.
Wariness passes over Rustys' expressive face as he continues to stand there and watch him, but Cappy shrugs out of his thoughts and crosses to the bed- shedding what remains of his clothes as he goes.
He isn't sure what the two of them have, but he figures it can be defined by the warm, almost challenging look that appears in Rustys' eyes when he crawls onto the bed and up the slim body. Or in the needy noise that escapes the younger man as Cappy licks a wet stripe down the ivory throat or even the way he automatically arches up as Cappy slowly, carefully lowers himself until he blankets the smaller frame.
There's a part of his brain- the one that comes out on bad days or when he sees his father- that points out that he doesn't have to take it slow and he knows, understands, that Spitter wouldn't break if it was fast and harsh and messy, like their first time in Rustys' room after the high of winning a game and his roommate nearly walked in on them, but he ignores it. Their kisses are slow and heated and he can feel blunt fingernails running down his back, urging him on. The bed creaks and moves as he thrusts, cock sliding against cock as Rusty spreads his legs just a little bit further so Cappy can get just the right angle and- their kiss breaks with a gasp, breathing coming out in harsh pants as the heat coils and tightens in his stomach.
He's as gentle and careful with Rusty as he is with any girl he's ever slept with- slow, deliberate thrusts, sucking on the spot just below the other mans ear that never fails to get a reaction.
This isn't just fooling around; fooling around didn't last long- he got bored, disinterested and moved on. With Rusty- he's not sure he'll ever grow uninterested in the feel of his fingers slicked with lube, sliding into and stretching the writhing body beneath him. He doesn't think he'll ever stop craving the tight heat as he removes his fingers and gently slides into Rusty, one inch at a time or needing to hear the loud moans as the younger man finally let go as he moved his hips seeking out the spot that made his voice rise in pleasure.
Cappy's not sure what it is about Rusty that makes his blood pound and his lips quirk into a smile even at the dumbest thing. He knows it's not some senseless fuck or even just a way to release tension, with the way his thrusts speed up, hand coming between them to stroke the leaking cock, twisting his hand expertly just to bring the gorgeous look to Rustys' face.
There's something about the noises Rusty makes as he comes, body clamping down around Cappy still buried deep in the slender body. Maybe in how it triggers his own release moments later.
But it's while they're laying there later, almost cuddling- something he never would have dreamed of doing before that- it occurs to him. This is a relationship; something he'd avoided in the past, but now excites him strangely enough. He may have gone into this acting on lust but it looks like over the past few months it evolved into something more.
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