Matty Demaret and Taylor Reese both lay on separate, white and flower-designed beds in yet another motel room, still in Montana, the bag filled with Benny Chains' money on the floor. Taylor slept on the second bed in the left corner beside Matty's, trying to sleep. He'd just taken his second dose of pain killers that night and was waiting for them to kick in. His bullet wounds were aching and throbbing and sleep was hard to come by, especially since all that happened that night kept replaying in his mind.
As Taylor tried to fall asleep, he thought of Matty, the risk he took to save him at the beef terminal. He knew he could have died saving Matty, and he knew Matty knew, too. He was embarrassed to have shown such obvious passion but he hadn't been able to control himself; there was no way he would have let Matty die, and he had already run out of bullets after killing Sheriff Decker and Deputy Ward, so he had nothing else to use but his own body. He was willing to risk dying to save Matty, the innocent man, the only person he'd had emotion for aside from his mother as years passed.
Taylor remembered when he was lying on the cold floor at the terminal, after hitting his head on a pipe and being shot twice by Teddy. He'd been in an extreme amount of pain and he had tried to remain conscious so he could continue to protect Matty from Teddy, but had a hard time. He'd heard some of what Matty said to his uncle and he remembered that after the gray-haired man was killed, Matty had anxiously whispered Taylor's name then came over to him and bent down beside him, tenderly touching his leg. Matty had never touched him that way, before. They'd sit so close that their entire sides would touch, but Matty had never touched him so gently with his hands.
Once Matty was sturdy enough to be able to stand, he used one hand to pick up the bags of his father's money and the other he used to help walk Taylor to the rented jeep and into the passenger seat, just as Taylor had done for him after Matty was beaten by Decker. It was one thing Taylor always admired about Matty; if you treated him right, he'd treat you just the same. Things were never one-sided, even when he had so much on his mind.
Once in the jeep, Matty had even helped to take off Taylor's black jacket and white shirt so he could observe the wounds, one on Taylor's left bicep and the other on his left shoulder, and therefore know which equipment he needed to buy to fix it.
Taylor continued to think as he lay on the hard bed, of that night when Matty had driven to the store, went inside, and came back out with pain killers, disinfectant, small and large gauze, a pack of needles, fishing-line and tape. Nobody had ever taken care of Taylor like that and it gave him a tender feeling, the tender feeling only Matty was able to give him.
When Matty had settled beside Taylor in the jeep, he'd turned toward his friend, stating that they needed to take the bullets out. He'd handed Taylor the pain killers and Taylor had taken two before handing them back to Matty to put in the grocery bag. Taylor knew the bullets needed to be removed, he'd been waiting for the equipment so it could be done properly. He went to pull out the one in his shoulder, but Matty had stopped him by gently touching him the second time that night, resting his hand on top of Taylor's.
"Let me do this, alright?" Matty had said. He had never done anything like it before and it made him queasy but he wasn't going to have Taylor do it when he was in such pain. Besides, Matty thought, he owed Taylor kindness and care since the reason he was in pain was because he deliberately ran in front of bullets, could have been killed, all so Matty would live. Taylor looked at him under heavy lids, then he'd lowered his hand and let it rest on his lap. He tried to relax, leaning his head back; appreciative.
Matty had raised his hands to Taylor's arm first, brows creased together in worry as they usually were. He'd tried to make the intrusion of his finger as painless as possible. But even at the slightest touch, Taylor had pressed his lips tightly together and turned red as he held his breath, sweat gathering on his forehead. Matty had slowly kept pushing his pointer finger into Taylor's bleeding wound, and Taylor began to breathe shakily as blood slid down his chest, giving Matty a feeling of anxiety.
"Do it quick," Taylor had said, eyes shut and brows creased in pain. Matty clenched his jaw and nodded, then quickly pushed his finger all the way in, raised it over the bullet and quickly rolled it out. Taylor had clenched his jaw repeatedly, turning his head to the side as his chest quickly raised and fell. More blood ran down his chest once the bullet was out.
Matty had thrown the bullet out the window then he opened the pack of small gauze, using some to wipe the blood off Taylor. He then opened the disinfectant and applied it to Taylor's wound, causing it to burn. Taylor was tense and looked to be pale but he was quiet and wasn't complaining, only breathing heavily. The guy was beyond courageous, Matty thought.
"Shit, Taylor... what were you thinkin', huh...?" Matty softly asked as he looked at Taylor, remembering how quickly Taylor had pushed him out of the way to take the bullets. He knew if Taylor had been just slightly more to the left, the bullet would have pierced his heart. Frowning, Matty looked back down at the wound on his muscular friend's arm, and once Taylor's breathing settled down, Matty opened the kit of needles and the fishing-line.
"... I wasn't gonna let that fuck kill you," Taylor replied in his low voice, eyes shut and brows lowered. Matty looked back up at Taylor and clenched his jaw. He hesitated a long while, trying to understand why Taylor would risk his life for him; he couldn't help but feel as if Taylor's feelings for him were intense and passionate. Matty swallowed then focused on Taylor's bullet wounds, knowing they needed to be taken care of.
"You ready for this...?" Matty asked quietly, sympathetic. Taylor nodded, brows lowered as he looked out of the corner of his eye at the needle. The sooner the better; he couldn't just keep bleeding the way he was.
Matty had tied the fishing line to the needle properly and looked at Taylor before he began to stitch his skin back together. Taylor would growl in his throat as the needle pierced his wounded flesh and Matty tried his best to block out the sounds of pain, so he would be able to continue.
Afterward, Matty had done the same thing with the other bullet wound, the one on Taylor's shoulder, then he'd covered each wound in gauze and taped it to the strong man's skin. He then had helped Taylor put his shirt and jacket back on.
Matty later continued to drive, heading to the place the four had rented the jeep from. As Matty drove down the road, Taylor had tried to stay awake for as long as he could, but the pain killers had kicked in and he was in less pain, and his body needed rest after the ordeal; he'd ended up falling asleep. Matty had looked at him, checking on him; as he observed Taylor, he thought again of the risk he took, and felt strong, tender emotion. His best friend, the guy he grew up with, had risked his life to save him. He never thought anybody would ever do that for him. Matty had never felt so honored, never felt so important, sincerely cared for and admired. He'd always wished that his father or at least Teddy would care about him as much as Taylor proved that night that he did, but he realized Taylor really was the only one who cared unconditionally, who was selfless and accepted him as he was, who wanted him to be safe.
He now knew Teddy wasn't at all like that, and that Benny wasn't ever going to change and be like Taylor either. If he was going to change, he would have already. Matty started feeling less for his father and about living up to his expectations, and more for his friend, as if the darker man was going to be his new adviser rather than Benny, who Matty couldn't help but feel was really only a selfish man.
Matty decided that he would tell his father, once they arrived in New York, that he was done with all of it. He wasn't doing anything for his old man anymore; he wasn't going to continue keeping the taxes running, was no longer overseeing any of the crap games, and he wasn't participating in any more union meetings. He needed to do what was best for him, he couldn't be who his father wanted him to be. He and Taylor almost got killed because of it, while Marbles and Scarpa actually did. He knew at that moment when he and Taylor were sitting together on a bench near the target site that Taylor knew what he was talking about when he warned him about the dangers of being in the mob. 'You'll get a bullet in the back of your head or be in jail for life,' Taylor had said. It seemed to him as if Taylor were the one to listen to, here, not his father. His father didn't care if he died, he cared more about Matty being a 'man', wiseguy material. He cared about what Matty was rather than who he was, unlike Taylor.
After returning the vehicle, Matty and Taylor took a bus, which brought them to a motel. Matty had decided they'd fly back to New York the next day after Taylor got some sleep. His taller friend had already been tired before they even went to the beef terminal, and now that he was wounded, Matty knew he definitely needed to rest.
In the motel room, Matty lay in the bed in the right corner of the room, unable to fall asleep. Taylor had been a momentary distraction from the bad that happened but now that he was asleep, Matty was alone with his thoughts and felt unwell. He was hurt that his uncle Teddy had betrayed him, that the man had even been willing to kill him, despite the fact that he was a nephew. Despite the fact that Teddy had raised him while his father Benny was in jail. Matty knew now that it was all a lie and Teddy had only been a manipulative and greedy bastard from day one, all in it for the money. It sickened him.
Matty remembered the moment at the terminal when he realized Marbles went missing, that he was probably dead. He remembered the fear when he saw his friend Scarpa get shot repeatedly to death, right after he saved Taylor from being killed by Brucker, right after he changed his mind about bailing and came back to help. Laying in bed, Matty began to breathe deeply, the ill feeling in his stomach getting worse. He tried to relax, to not be so tense, but it wasn't going to happen. He felt guilty. He couldn't help but blame himself; he felt that if he hadn't asked his friends to help him deliver and find the bag, that they would still be alive.
Hours passed and Matty was awoken for the third time after seeing images of Marbles and Scarpa motionless and stiff, dead and bloody, because of the wrong decision he made. The thought had repeated in his mind, his own voice in his dreams. Now awake, Matty's heart raced and his forehead was slightly wet with sweat. It was still dark out so Matty turned on the lamp which was placed on the bureau beside him. He sat up in bed and sighed, rubbing his forehead, irritated by the lack of sleep. He looked with his tired, blue eyes over to Taylor, his only source of comfort, who was laying on his back and snoring. The sleeping, muscular man's brows were creased together and his lips were parted. Matty also noticed that underneath the thin sheet, Taylor was physically erect.
Matty clenched his jaw then looked away, unsure of what to think. He decided he'd lay back down, shut the light off, and try to fall back to sleep so Taylor could take care of the problem in case he woke up. Matty wondered how Taylor could feel that way after what they'd been through, and he started to wonder if it had anything to do with the pain killers. The kind he got for Taylor had caffeine in it, so it made sense that his dreams might head in odd directions. Matty lay still as he thought, unintentionally beginning to imagine Taylor stroking himself as time passed. He realized he liked to think of Taylor feeling that pleasure, especially after he'd risked his life so selflessly for him and was feeling such pain because of it. Matty was pleased that Taylor was able to feel good and become aroused after the pain he'd been through.
Matty shook his thoughts away, uncomfortable with himself. He tried to fall asleep but it was nearly impossible as he remembered what Teddy had done. The pain he felt was undeniable, the memories vivid. Suddenly, Taylor quietly moaned and shifted in bed, bringing Matty out of his thoughts. He clenched his jaw, realizing Taylor was indeed dreaming of something. He began to wonder if his friend was dreaming about some random woman. It didn't seem to make sense; Matty hadn't seen Taylor look at any women in the longest time, especially not during their trip. Just then, Matty realized that it could have been he, himself, that Taylor was dreaming of. Matty thought and couldn't imagine Taylor caring for anyone else as much as him. Taylor was always more interested in him than anybody else; he was pretty much the only one Taylor spent time with, aside from Marbles and Scarpa, who Matty knew Taylor didn't care as much about. Matty couldn't imagine Taylor risking his life for either of them; he could have jumped in front of Scarpa before he was shot if he wanted to.
Matty looked back and thought of how Taylor was always protective of him, always stood by his side no matter what, how Taylor would observe his form from time to time. Matty also remembered how in their previous motel room, Taylor would wake up in the middle of the night to go into the bathroom when he thought Matty was asleep, and come out fifteen minutes later. Maybe sleeping so close brought up some feelings, Matty thought, and he hadn't actually been in there to use the toilet.
Matty became aroused for the first time in a long time, when he imagined Taylor eagerly touching himself with Matty in mind. He liked to feel as if he were wanted and loved, but was ashamed of his thoughts and reaction; he'd never felt that way about a man before and Benny had always mocked homosexuality, using words like 'cock-suckers' and 'fags'. But Matty reminded himself that his own feelings didn't have to do with his father. Not anymore. Besides, Matty thought, he didn't like guys in general; this was just about Taylor, no other man. No other person at all, for that matter. It was about who Taylor was, not what he was. He was good, the only one who treated Matty with real care and appreciation for the first time in years. His heart hammered as he imagined connecting so intimately with Taylor, as he predicted was happening in the muscular man's dreams. It had been so long since Matty trusted someone enough to let them touch his body, and he ached for it, just as he felt Taylor did. He hadn't seen anyone with Taylor in the longest time either and both were against paying for pleasure. They each wanted something real. Matty couldn't imagine any other relationship feeling as real and he and Taylor's and he felt that Taylor would agree.
Matty tried to control his mind and body, to soften, but it wasn't happening, not when he knew Taylor was right there, just as hard, and probably because of him. Matty felt Taylor loved and desired him, and it made both his heart and genitals ache. He swallowed and got out of bed, a bulge in his black pants. He decided he'd relieve himself then return to the bed; he thought it'd probably help him sleep. Taylor seemed to be out of it anyways; and even if he wasn't, Matty thought that if he was right about Taylor's feelings, he might not be bothered by it, but only become more aroused. Matty imagined what could happen if they were to catch the other in such a situation and it made his lower regions throb even more.
Matty felt his way to the bathroom, having good enough of an idea as to where it was, then he opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it. He kept the light off so Taylor wouldn't know he was awake - despite his earlier thoughts he knew having Taylor actually know what he was doing in there would be quite embarrassing, especially if Matty was wrong about his feelings - then he reached around for a cloth which he planned to ejaculate into before washing.
Taylor awoke to pain and darkness, as well as his aching phallus, in the middle of a dream which involved him stroking Matty's bruised ribs, which were given to the pale man by the sheriff. He also dreamed that he and Matty became one and Matty was feeling such pleasure because of it, had forgotten all about what happened there in Montana with his friends and with Teddy. They were dreams similar to many that Taylor had, based on the urges and desires he had for his friend that he tried to repress, for Matty's sake. He knew Matty was sensitive and would feel uncomfortable, which was something Taylor wasn't willing to risk; he liked how comfortable they felt when together. He was also taught by his Jewish mother growing up that sleeping with another man was wrong, and he wasn't gay - he'd been married to a woman before - but he loved Matty. Matty was such a good and kind person, he was innocent and decent, and more importantly he deserved to be loved; he needed to be loved. If nobody else would do it right, then Taylor felt he had to - he did, and would show Matty as much as he would accept.
The tattooed man sat up in the bed, using his right arm and not his left as he turned and put his feet against the floor. He planned to take more pain killers which were in the grocery bag beside his feet. He then planned he would use his fist on himself until his body was satisfied, so he could fall back to sleep and rest soundly. Taylor couldn't see Matty, but he assumed the black haired man was in bed and asleep because the motel room was entirely dark and quiet.
Taylor quietly reached into the bag beside him, reached around for the bottle of pills, then opened it and took two. He swallowed them dry because he'd already finished his bottle of water, then he stood up and slowly walked over to where he knew the bathroom was. He opened the door and turned on the light, walking forward and accidentally bumping into Matty.
"Shit, Taylor...!" Matty cried, voice questioning and fearful. At first Taylor panicked, clenching his fists, not aware of who it was he'd collided with. But then his vision became clear and he saw that it was Matty, with his wet and erect phallus sticking out from his black pants. Taylor froze as Matty quickly turned around and put himself back into his briefs before buttoning and zipping his pants, resting his forehead in his palm as he put a hand on his hip.
Taylor clenched his jaw, realizing Matty was feeling uncomfortable, so he quickly lowered his eyes then left the bathroom and shut the door, walking back over to his bed. He stood still before the bed, not getting into it as he remembered what he'd just seen. It'd been the most pleasurable and shocking surprise, being the first time Taylor had seen Matty's penis; it was thin but long, the head was swollen and purple and slick.
Taylor ached even more than he had been as he imagined the pleasure Matty must have been feeling before he entered. He thought of touching Matty the way Matty had been touching himself and he wanted badly to do it. He would have done anything for Matty, anything he asked for. Taylor began to feel uncontrollable desire, but he didn't know where he could relieve himself. Matty would know if he did it in bed, Matty was already in the bathroom, and if he did it when Matty left the bathroom Matty would still know what he was doing in there. He didn't want to make Matty feel even more uncomfortable than he probably already felt. He couldn't go outside and they no longer had the rental, either.
Taylor clenched a fist, trying to relax his body so he was no longer stiff. It seemed to be the only option. He tried but soon his thoughts wandered; he thought of how Matty treated him; always better than anyone else. He trusted Taylor, told him his secrets, always sat close beside him, spoke so kindly and compassionately to him. He thought of how tenderly Matty had touched his leg after he saved him; maybe Matty realized how intense Taylor's feelings for him were now and he'd become excited. Taylor knew Matty had never had an erection in Montana until that night, and everything that had happened was traumatic aside from what they did for each other, aside from the time they spent together. Matty could have even seen him erect that night and that could have been the reason he was erect, himself, Taylor thought.
Once Taylor had left the bathroom, Matty shook his head back and forth and turned toward the sink, feeling like an idiot. He washed his hands, not as aroused as he had been after the shock, but still semi-erect. He knew what Taylor had seen, and even though he was humiliated and ashamed, he knew Taylor was in the same state. He thought that Taylor probably came into the bathroom in the first place to masturbate because he thought Matty was asleep.
Matty wondered what now Taylor was thinking; did he feel awkward? Would he put two and two together and realize why Matty was in that state? He paced back and forth, put his palm to his mouth and stroked his chin, then crossed his arms over his chest. He thought and realized he probably didn't have to be embarrassed. He wondered if Taylor was out there, aching and throbbing even more after seeing his privates. Maybe he didn't have to hide in the bathroom; Taylor could have been out longing for him, thought the black-haired man. Taylor was willing to die for Matty, wouldn't he be willing to pleasure and be pleasured by him? It was nothing compared to losing his life; in fact, it felt good, not painful. And Matty so badly wanted to connect with Taylor in that way. Not only would it be a great pleasure for the both of them, but it'd also be a distraction from the emotional pain he felt.
Matty wondered, not sure what his next move should be. If Taylor was no longer erect, Matty thought that would be a good indication that Taylor wasn't interested in seeing that much of him, especially since he would have been hard only seconds before. He decided he'd leave the bathroom and base what he did off Taylor's reaction and his physical state. Clenching his jaw and swallowing, Matty left the bathroom, leaving the light on. He could see Taylor's form standing still beside the bed; Matty observed Taylor's body, watching as he clenched and unclenched the fingers of his right hand again and again, as if trying to control himself. He felt that Taylor had indeed enjoyed what he saw and was aching from it.
Taylor turned his head to the side and looked at Matty out of the corner of his eye, brows creased and rock-hard, eager to touch and be touched. The lean man dressed in black walked further into the room, near Taylor, whose breathing became heavy and could be heard as he continued to look back. He so badly wanted to make a move, but he wasn't going to, not unless Matty did first. It was about what Matty wanted, not what he wanted.
"Sorry for walkin' in on you... I thought you were sleepin'..." Taylor quietly said with his deep voice. Matty shyly bowed his head then walked closer, so he was just behind Taylor.
"Yeah. Yeah, I know... I thought you were, too," Matty replied, softly. Taylor took a chance and stayed still while Matty looked down over his shoulder and saw that he was erect.
Matty clenched his jaw and slowly raised one arm to Taylor's bicep, which he gently squeezed. He looked at Taylor's face for a reaction, the muscular man looking as if Matty's touch was all he needed. He sensed such desire and pleasure from Taylor after the simple touching.
Matty, feeling sure, began to wonder how long Taylor's feelings had been there. Had they been building for years or just during the time spent in Montana? Remembering the risk Taylor took for him, Matty's brows creased and his heart ached as he lowered his hand down to Taylor's fore arm, then to his rough hand. He moved deliberately and slowly, feeling the rings around Taylor's fingers before moving his hand back up to Taylor's bicep, against the star of David which was tattooed on his skin. Matty then removed his hand and swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat.
"Thanks for savin' me, Taylor..." Matty said, almost silent. "I wouldn't even be here right now if it weren't for you..."
Taylor's brows creased, his heart hammering faster than it ever did; he realized he was right that Matty finally understood how much he felt for him. But what excited him most was that Matty seemed to have the same feelings. Slowly, Taylor turned around, looking into Matty's dark eyes, finding that they held such emotion. Matty clenched his jaw and put his hands in his pockets, bowing his head, uncomfortable. Taylor swallowed and observed Matty's form, then he ran his hand up and down Matty's arm softly, as Matty had done to him. In return, Matty's brows creased, staying still at first before raising his head and looking into Taylor's eyes, finding that he looked to be full of love and lust.
Indeed Taylor's heart and member ached like never before. A long time he'd wanted to experience with Matty love through physical touch but he'd always tried to repress it, so as not to embarrass his sensitive friend. But it had always been Matty that he wanted to spend his life with, ever since they were teens and had climbed trees at night to smoke and talk. He never really cared for others, he was taught by his father and Teddy not to care so he could beat or kill anyone if he needed to. But Matty was different; he'd always been special. He had always been by his side and Taylor had always felt great emotion because of him. He was his other half; the one who made him feel.
Slowly, Matty extended his hand and rested it on Taylor's chest, the movement gentle. He ran his hand down to Taylor's stomach, then back up. As Taylor was being touched so softly, he kept his eyes on Matty's face. He decided to do to Matty whatever Matty did to him, so he wouldn't end up doing anything prematurely. He clenched his jaw, Matty understanding that his friend was just as overwhelmed as he was. He also knew Taylor was feeling incredible pleasure and he continued to move his hand up and down Taylor's muscular body, anxious to go further as he slid his hand down to the top of Taylor's jeans, close to the bulge. Matty saw Taylor's face, saw that his lips were parted as he took air in. Seeing Taylor's pleasure heighten, Matty became entirely aroused again. He decided not to stop, to take it further. It was obvious that Taylor wanted more, and Matty wanted to give it to him; especially since he wouldn't have been touching anything on earth if it weren't for Taylor. He'd give Taylor whatever he wanted, show him the tender love he deserved.
Matty continued by raising his hand back up to Taylor's stomach, then running it back down to where his jeans started. Taylor's brows creased and he clenched his jaw, every bit of his body numb except for the areas Matty touched. His lids were lowered as he looked into Matty's blue eyes, feeling intense passion as he ran his hand up and down Matty's torso through his black shirt. He then moved closer, so their bodies were pressed together. At first Matty moved backward, not used to having Taylor's erection touch his own. Taylor hesitated, not moving. Matty slowly adjusted then moved closer, so their hips connected once again; knowing it'd be alright. Taylor ran his cheek against Matty's, then titled his head to the side to softly kiss his jawline. Matty was tense; shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw. The muscular man kissed down his soft and pale neck once and then again; it felt good to be touched in such a patient, loving and sincere way.
Taylor raised his good arm and gently rested his hand on Matty's side, causing Matty to do the same, just with both his hands. Taylor kissed Matty's trap through his shirt, then he moved his face until it was just in front of Matty's. He looked deeply into Matty's dark eyes with his own brown ones, and they stared at each other for a while. Soon, both started moving their eyes back and forth between the others' eyes and lips, then in unison they leaned forward, lids lowering as their lips connected. They kissed only once, feeling the smoothness and warmth of the other. They parted and looked at each other for a reaction, both knowing their feelings were mutual. They kissed again and again, both their eyes shutting, their lips soon becoming ceaselessly pressed together. They eased into the kiss slowly, not used to expressing each others feelings in that way.
Matty's heart pounded faster than ever as he felt Taylor's big, smooth lips against his own, felt his shaved facial hair against his chin. Taylor was so gentle and loving in the way he did it, as if Matty was something fragile and valuable, someone that deserved the purest form of love. He realized he'd never felt so good, being close to Taylor like that; he felt protected and safe, finally felt loved and accepted, as if he belonged. Just the way Taylor always made him feel, only intensified.
Matty parted for breath and hesitated, running his hands up and down Taylor's sides, feeling him, as he became less worried and more courageous. He rested his forehead against Taylor's as they caught their breath. Matty's eyes were downcast shyly but Taylor kept his eyes on Matty, watching him to make sure he was alright with what they were doing. After a moment, Matty raised his head, shutting his eyes before they connected once again.
Matty felt as if he were on fire and he began to kiss rougher, causing Taylor's adrenaline to increase as he felt Matty's power and passion. He wanted so badly to stroke Matty, see him feeling good, but he tried to remain in control and not become greedy; it was about what Matty wanted, he reminded himself, and he would go at his pace. He cared about Matty and he wasn't interested in over-whelming him by losing control, no matter how long he wanted what he was finally getting. He loved Matty more than he desired his body. In fact, he only desired Matty's body because he loved who he was and wanted to make him feel good. So he moved at the same speed as Matty, enjoying every touch, each movement the thin and pale man made.
As they were kissing and touching each others bodies, Matty suddenly removed his hands from Taylor's form. Taylor heard Matty unzip his pants and his heart jolted in excitement. He had to breathe deeply through his nostrils as they continued to kiss. Taylor heard noises, like slime crackling, coming from where he knew was Matty's beautiful shaft; the blue-eyed man's greatest source of pleasure. So badly Taylor wanted to give him pleasure, to make him feel loved; he ached to hold Matty's penis in his hand, show care with every slow touch, see Matty's face crease with pleasure. But Matty didn't give him permission, so he continued to run his hand up and down the man's side, loving the way his ribs moved as he breathed. The fact that Matty was alive and breathing meant more than anything to him.
Matty parted from the kiss, brows creased and eyes shut as he pulled on himself. He rested his forehead against Taylor's, his lips parted as he let out small breaths of air. Taylor's lips were also parted and he felt such incredible lust; he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants as Matty had done to himself then reached into his briefs and pulled on himself.
Matty moaned, causing Taylor to do the same as he shut his eyes and clenched his jaw tightly; when Matty felt pleasure, he felt it, too. He then opened his eyes and looked down, watching Matty's gentle hand stroke his own member. Taylor's phallus jerked in his hand; watching Matty pleasure himself was a beautiful thing; it made Taylor feel as if finally he felt good instead of bad, the way he always wanted Matty to be. He raised his head then leaned forward and kissed Matty again and again, slower than before, both their brows creasing. They then looked at each other, only an inch apart. Both continued to pull on themselves, Matty tilting his head back and shutting his eyes, his jaw tightened and a look of pleasure on his face. He then bowed his head and opened his eyes, eager to see what was deliberately hidden within his shy friend's briefs. Taylor froze as he watched Matty stop touching himself, only to move closer and rest his right hand instead on Taylor's forearm, the one which was digging into his briefs. Matty proceeded with running his fingers down to Taylor's wrist, causing Taylor to stop moving his hand against his member. He felt Matty's soft, warm hand against his own and, aware of what Matty wanted to do, he removed his hand to let Matty take over.
Matty swallowed, his muscles taut as he touched another man's penis for the first time; he continued to remind himself of who Taylor was, forced himself to forget about labels and his father and focus just on how he felt, how Taylor felt. Brows creased, Matty took Taylor's thick phallus into his hand, raising it to Taylor's stomach and using his other hand to lower the tattooed man's undergarments. Breathing shakily and quickly, Taylor caught on and used his good hand to help pull down his briefs, revealing to Matty his most sensitive area. Curiously, Matty observed Taylor's package as he gently held it in his pale hand. There was some hair which had been cleanly shaved. The shaft was thicker yet shorter than his own and had a vein along it. Seeing Taylor's genitals made his own ache even more; he imagined how good Taylor was feeling, thought of how good he was feeling himself.
Slowly, Matty released Taylor, assuring him that he wasn't finished by unintentionally showing the utter desire on his face. He raised his hands to the bottom of his shirt, unwilling to mess it and the rest of his clothes. He raised the shirt over his head, revealing his upper body. Taylor looked at Matty, breathing deeply while standing entirely still, taking in the sight. Matty was so lean, yet muscular; more muscular than he appeared to be when wearing clothes. He had dark underarm hair and a trail that went down from his belly button to underneath his black slacks. Taylor then noticed Matty's bruised ribs and a fire lit inside him. He clenched his teeth tightly together as he remembered the way he was forced to do nothing as Matty was kicked and slapped, almost shot. He was grateful that he'd had the chance to kill the cops. He hated that Matty had been treated so wrongly, and couldn't stop himself from stroking Matty's tender ribs, just as he had done in his dream. He moved closer, moving his hand to Matty's back, resting it still as he again kissed the side of Matty's neck.
He proceeded with kissing along Matty's jaw line once again then his big, pink lips. Matty kissed back, moving his hands closer to Taylor, wrapping them around his lower back; holding Taylor the way he held him. He ran his hands against Taylor's warm skin underneath his white tank top, then lifted the shirt and began to pull it up, causing Taylor to release Matty and try getting it off using only one hand. Matty helped to take it off, and once it was, he looked at Taylor's muscular body. He was glad that Taylor was strong and had been able to handle the bullets, was glad he helped get the money back by beating Brucker with all he had. He ran his hand up and down Taylor's chest, down his stomach. Such heat radiated from him. Matty moved closer, kissing Taylor's trap and then down to his chest. He moved back up and kissed his neck, his ear, then went back to his lips as he lowered his hand back down to Taylor's manhood. He took it and slowly began to move his hand back and forth along Taylor's length, softly at first. Taylor moaned as Matty stroked him for the first time, a shiver running up his spine as his friend ran his closed fist over the head of his phallus.
As Matty stroked him, faster as time passed, Taylor began to moan against Matty's mouth, unintentionally breaking off the kiss, only to reconnect just after. He had always imagined that having Matty's hand on him would be the best thing he'd ever felt, and indeed it was; because this was Matty, the only one who had ever been there for him and understood him.
Matty began to move his hand hard and quickly, and Taylor was so lost in pleasure, his mind foggy and his sight blurred. As he moaned, he heard Matty do the same, and he opened his eyes, watching as Matty's face creased into a look of intense pleasure. Taylor kept his eyes on the man's face for a moment before he looked down and watched Matty pull on himself while also pulling on Taylor. The sight made Taylor's penis tense and leak, causing Matty's hand to move against his shaft easily.
Realizing that Matty was doing all the work, Taylor moved the pale man's left hand to the side, causing Matty to open his eyes, his dilated pupils becoming smaller once he did so. His lips were parted and he seemed confused, but then he realized that Taylor was only replacing Matty's own hand with his. Matty eagerly let his hand fall to his side, and immediately Taylor began to softly caress his length. Matty instantly moaned and tilted his head back; he hadn't had anyone touch him there in years, and the fact that it was Taylor doing it made it all the more pleasurable.
"Taylor..." Matty quietly said, his voice hoarse. Taylor watched Matty's throat move as he swallowed and he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward to kiss it. Matty's breathing became faster and faster. Taylor then leaned back, moving his hand quickly and roughly. He moaned as Matty rubbed the head of his phallus with the pads of his fingers, and then did the same to Matty, which caused him to thrust his hips forward. Taylor wished he could use his other hand, too, but his arm was still in a lot of pain, despite the fact that he'd taken medicine and his adrenaline was going through the roof. So he switched back and forth from rubbing Matty's head to stroking the length. Matty did the same, pleasuring Taylor the way he pleasured him, wanting to give him the same intense feeling.
Unintentionally teasing Taylor once again, Matty removed his hands, to pull his black slacks and briefs down and off, so he stood there, entirely nude. Taylor continued to stroke him as he moved, and he watched him as he became naked, completely visible, so Taylor was able to see every bit of him. Taylor had always wanted to see Matty unclothed, so he could see the man's pure form, and it made his heart swell with emotion.
Matty looked Taylor's naked body up and down, then moved forward, so their bodies were pressed together. He wrapped his arms around Taylor, touching him all over, pressing their lips back together. Matty kissed passionately and roughly, breathing deeply through his nose. Taylor reacted in the same manner, rubbing and touching Matty while kissing him, hard. Matty reached his hand down and started stroking Taylor again, this time fast and hard, and ceaseless. Taylor moaned in his throat, against Matty's lips as he parted from the kiss. Seeing Taylor's pleasure, Matty watched his face, then leaned forward, eyes shut, to kiss and nip at Taylor's neck. Taylor tilted his head to the side, giving Matty access, then once Matty stopped, their lips met, and Taylor extended his own hand to continue to move his hand against Matty's cock, moving it just as quickly as Matty moved his.
Soon they both started moaning ceaselessly. Taylor rolled his hips while Matty thrust his forward. Matty tilted his head back, leaning against Taylor as the bigger man jerked him nonstop, making his cock red and his balls tighten. Matty moaned again and again, leaning his head back. Seconds later, Matty felt he was going to have his release, and he opened his eyes, looking down at his cock and Taylor's hand, looking at Taylor's cock and his own hand.
"Aw, fuck...!" Matty cried, semen shooting from his penis just after. He moaned and shook, convulsing again and again as he ejaculated, onto Taylor's thighs, the cum dripping down the man's hand. Once Matty came, Taylor's pleasure heightened and he came, as well, moaning each time semen shot from his head. Matty watched the whiteness spit out of Taylor, then once Taylor was empty, he stroked him a few more times, his cock wet and softening.
Finished with their first sexual encounter, both became embarrassed, but also had very tender feelings. Matty felt he'd found what he'd always needed, as if all he had to do was be with Taylor. Taylor had never felt happier than at that moment, where he realized he and Matty's relationship had reached an even more intimate level. And if Matty felt anything like Taylor did, he thought, then Matty would definitely want more in the future.
They ended up taking a shower together, then getting dressed back into their clothes. Matty thought to sleep with Taylor but he preferred to sleep alone, in his own bed, where he had plenty of room. The beds were meant for one and already felt too small for Matty, as he was used to a queen-sized bed. Both said good-night to each other, then settled into their own bed. Taylor fell asleep quickly, able to sleep anywhere, but Matty had a hard time. Memories from the beef terminal crept back into his mind, almost erasing the thoughts of Taylor, giving Matty negative feelings. Uneasy, Matty got back out of his bed, then walked over to the other side of the room, getting into bed with Taylor, slowly. Taylor woke up once feeling Matty, and realizing that he wanted to get into bed with him, he pushed over, lifting the covers so Matty could go underneath. Being next to Taylor made him feel less alone, less terrible.
After an hour of sleep, both woke up to Matty's beeper, finding that it was 6 in the morning. They each got out of bed, gathered their things, then took a bus to the airport. On the plane, as hours passed, Matty told Taylor his plans of telling his father he was out, that he was done with all of it. Taylor was pleased and felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Once they arrived in New York, they each took their separate cars, Matty in his Cadillac and Taylor in his Dodge Ram, following Matty to Benny Chains' restaurant, Gianda's Catering Home.
The End.