Undertaker slept half the day away in Ronald's arms—which was fine by him. He generally didn't wake up before sundown anyway, and it was a delight to find himself still in the embrace of the sleeping agent.
"For a moment, I thought I'd been dreaming," he whispered.
Ronald had drifted off to sleep with his glasses still on, and they were lopsided. With a little smirk of amusement, Undertaker removed the eyewear and set it on the nightstand. Ronald squirmed closer to him with a mumbled protest when the action caused him to pull away, and the mortician chuckled.
"Cuddly chap, aren't you?"
But he was quite fond of cuddling, himself. It had just been so blasted long since he'd had anyone to do it with. He caressed the blond's sleeping face, admiring his features in the shadowed darkness. A beam of orange light snuck in through the curtains as the sun dipped lower, and Undertaker quickly reached up and behind to adjust them when Ronald grimaced as it fell on his closed eyes.
"Mmm," sighed the blond contentedly once the annoyance was gone.
Undertaker's stomach rumbled, rudely reminding him that he'd had nothing save a biscuit and a piece of chocolate to eat today. Ronnie was bound to get hungry too, when he finally awoke. Not wanting to disturb him, the mortician tried to pull gently out of his embrace so that he could fix up something to eat for them both. Ronald just hugged him tighter.
"Now, don't be a brat," chastised Undertaker softly. "Ronnie, I need to get up, love."
Ronald stirred but didn't open his eyes. "Gotta pee?"
"Well no…not yet," admitted the older reaper, "but I've got a mind for some munchies and I can't very well go and prepare some with you clinging to me."
"Stay a lil' while longer," insisted Ronald sleepily, and his hand cupped the mortician's bottom with casual mischief. "Like the way ya feel."
"I…share those sentiments," answered the mortician helplessly as that damnable blush returned to his cheeks. "Oh, bugger it."
His stomach could wait. The only problem was that Ronald's sleepy groping had him getting a bit too happy. He felt the boy grin against his neck and he sighed. The cheeky fellow knew exactly what he was doing.
"What's the matter?" Mumbled Ronald, squeezing his bum again.
Undertaker hardened further in response. "I think you know, sweets."
"Nothin' wrong with a little wood," insisted the agent. He pressed his own groin flush against the mortician's to demonstrate. "See? I've got it too."
Undertaker bit his lip. "Yes…I notice that." Had he ever been this forward? He recalled a time when he was, but he'd forgotten how to be so candid and open with his sexuality.
Ronald finally opened his eyes, and he tilted his head back to look at him. "Wow. That little beam of sunlight is falling just right on your hair." He brushed aside the ancient's bangs to gaze into his eyes. "Makes you glow a little. You're totally beautiful."
The mortician smiled crookedly. "And you're a little charmer, m'dear."
"I'm being serious," insisted Ronald. He covered a yawn with the hand that was resting on Undertaker's rump, before putting it back again. "If I'm really making ya uncomfortable, I'll back off. I know it's not the best time to be flirting with you."
"Actually," said the ancient, lowering his gaze, "It rather helps."
"Yeah?" Ronald grinned and brought his face closer. "Then how's about a 'good morning' kiss?"
"Or a 'good afternoon' one?" teased Undertaker softly, raising his eyes to look at him. More comfortable around Ronald now, he found it easier to flirt back at times. He didn't pull away when the blond closed the distance to capture his lips, and he stroked his back as their tongues met and caressed. His pulse quickened, and he blushed again when the agent reached up with his free hand to toy with the piercings in his ear.
Ronald pressed more firmly against him, grinding their arousals against each other through the layers of clothing separating them. Undertaker found it very titillating, and he couldn't hold back the purr that rose in his throat. It went on for a little while until Ronald started to roll him onto his back, and the blond suddenly stopped and shook his head.
"No…not yet. We've still got a third date to get through, before I start getting too grabby with ya again."
Undertaker looked up at him, his silver hair spread out beneath him and his heavy-lashed eyes half-lidded with sensual intrigue. He was so very tired of being alone…tired of hiding from the world and from his past. He caressed Ronald's face with the back of his nails and he parted his lips, trying to come up with the words he wanted to say. This young agent had stayed up all night watching over him. He'd brought him gifts and held him all morning. How long had it been since he'd received romantic attention like that, and how long would it be before another love interest came along, if he put Ronald aside? What he was doing right now wasn't truly living. Yes, he feared what might happen to Ronald if recent events turned out to be an encore of the past, but should he throw away such an opportunity without knowing for certain whether he was right?
"Mayhap we don't need a third date after all, Ronnie."
The blond reaper stared at him with dismay. "I thought we already went over this and cleared it up! Look, whoever did this to you won't get away with it, and I don't know the details but I can tell you're worried I might get caught up in something you don't want to talk about. I think we've got chemistry and I want to see where it can go, 'Taker, so don't start flaking on me again."
The mortician chuckled under his breath and shook his head. "I s'pose I didn't make that clear enough for you. I'm not 'flaking' on you, pet. That wasn't the context I meant."
He could see comprehension leak into Ronald's youthful features, then excitement, then wariness. "Are ya sure it's not your grief talking? I don't want to take advantage of you."
Undertaker gave him one of those warm smiles that lately had begun to grace his lips just for him. "I've lived with grief before, Ronnie. I'll manage. In the meantime, I think your affection will make it easier for me."
Ronald smiled. "Yeah? That's…aw man, I sooo wanna jump on that and rock your world, but…now I feel kinda shy all the sudden. Has to be those eyes of yours. They just go right through me and…er…okay, I'll shut up now."
The agent's sudden attack of uncertainty endeared Undertaker further to him, and it made him feel a bit better about his own insecurity. "What's say we have dinner and then let the chips fall where they may, yeah? We could even call this our third date, if you like."
"Uh, sure," said Ronald, still in a state of obvious surprise. "I'm not good at cooking, but I'll be happy to help you chop anything up."
"Hmm, I'm thinking you could take care of the onions," suggested Undertaker. He ran his palm over Ronald's chest and he smirked at him. "Just try not to cut off a finger. I could sew it back on but I'd rather not have to."
Ronald's eyes were drawn to the scar circling Undertaker's left pinky, and he balanced on one elbow to take that hand and draw the digit to his lips. He watched the mortician with crafty eyes as he sucked his pinky gently into his mouth, somehow managing not to gag on the long black fingernail in the process.
"Is that what you did with this one?" he said after tonguing and sucking it for a bit.
Undertaker's breath caught at the erotic action, and he nodded. "Indeed." He drew his nails in on his left hand to make it easier for Ronald, and the blond obligingly sucked on them all, one at a time. The mortician was rapidly getting another "happy" in his pants, and he hissed softly and levered himself up on his elbows as he withdrew his fingers from Ronald's mouth.
"You're making lil' Undertaker a bit too spry," he warned huskily.
Ronald looked down at the prominent bulge in the form-fitting pants, and he smirked. "He ain't 'little', gorgeous."
The mortician huffed with amusement, but he sobered and shook his bangs out of his eyes, trying to gather the confidence to say what was on his mind. He watched the young man with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes and he moistened his pale lips with the tip of his tongue. Ronald's eyes followed the motion and he made a pained sound in his throat, the crotch of his trousers now sticking out conspicuously.
"What're ya doing to me?" breathed Ronald, his voice dropping a note with desire. "I'm losing my interest in food, 'Taker."
His reaction spurred the mortician on. He was losing interest in food too, but both of them really did need to eat and he expected any sensual encounter to last for quite a while. No harm in stoking the fires, though. "Speaking of 'taking'," he said with a chuckle, "how would you like me, Ronnie?"
Ronald swallowed. "Uh…wow…erm…" He scratched the back of his head, his blush suddenly outdoing Undertaker's. He suddenly began to unbutton the older reaper's long shirt. "Gimme a sec to think about it," he murmured.
Undertaker didn't stop him. He laid there compliantly, propped on his elbows on his back, and he allowed Ronald to unbutton his garment and pull it open to bare his pale, scarred chest. He was briefly worried the blond might be put off by the scars, but Ronnie had already demonstrated to him that he thought he was beautiful despite the marks of battle striping his body.
"Unf," said Ronald at last, looking him up and down with hot eyes. "Yeah…seeing you like this…I think I'd like to top. I mean, if that's alright by you." He dragged his eyes from the mortician's lean chest and torso to meet his gaze again, uncertain. "I…I could go either way, ya know."
"So can I," assured the mortician. Mercy, he wished he could stop blushing…stop doubting himself. "I think, considering how long it's been for me, that you should take the reins this time, love. I'm so bloody out of touch with even simple human contact."
Ronald smiled. "Well, I'm plenty in touch. Spears-Senpai calls me a social butterfly." He bent his head to give the mortician a kiss on the mouth. "I'll take good care of you, gorgeous. Just do me one favor."
"What might that be?" Undertaker smiled back.
"Leave the shirt hanging open while ya cook. It'll give me a nice view while I'm helping you out and when we eat."
Undertaker smirked. "I think that can be arranged, Mr. Knox."
~xox~
Ronald tried to concentrate on the tasks set forth to him by his…boyfriend? Yeah, that was what 'Taker was to him now. His boyfriend. Not just his date. It didn't feel like a dalliance anymore, and thinking of him that way made his heart thud and gave him a thrill. He was dating a legend, and tonight, he'd get laid by one.
Holy shit, he was going to get laid. The thought had never excited him so much before, and he berated himself as a pervert even as he kept shooting admiring, lusty glances at his tall companion. 'Taker could say he was rusty and uncertain all he wanted, but the man did everything with a sort of dark sensuality that Ronald was finding more and more irresistible. He was so hot, and the gentle, domestic side of him made him even hotter to the agent. Coupled with the undeniable fact that the man could kick some serious ass when he wanted to, it put Ronald in a state of utter excitement to think he'd have that pale, sexy body all to himself after dinner.
Undertaker had his hair pinned back while he was cooking, the long bangs held back from his eyes so that he could see. He'd gathered his hair into a loose ponytail as well, to avoid accidentally getting any in the food. It was very nice to see his face so un-obscured. Ronald couldn't help but stare at him.
"Ronald," said the mortician softly, pausing in seasoning the chicken to glance at him. "What did we discuss about chopping fingers off, my dear?"
"Uh…" Ronald looked down at the onion he'd been slicing, realizing he'd stopped to stare at him. The knife was dangerously close to his thumb. "Don't do it?"
The mortician's lips quirked into a smile, flashing teeth. "That's right. You can stare at me later, when you don't have a sharp knife in your hands."
Ronald sighed. "You're just so sexy." He let his gaze wander over him once more, caressing the bared chest and stomach. "I could get used to you cooking with your shirt hanging open."
Undertaker chuckled. "You're the one that wanted me to do it this way." He started to close the shirt up. "Mayhap I should—"
"No," demanded Ronald hastily, shaking his head. "Don't you dare. I can handle this job, promise!"
The mortician's lazy sensual gaze roved over him, and he shrugged fluidly. "Then do it. The sooner we get our meal cooked and eaten, the sooner you can ravish me." He blushed a little as he said the last part, but the flirty smirk still remained.
"Aw, man," breathed Ronald. He got a mental image of bending the silver reaper over the counter and fucking his brains out—which was unusual, because he usually fantasized about himself being the one to get pounded. Like he'd said to the man; he could go either way but his favorite role was generally to be the receiver. "I am sooo gonna ravish you, sexy thing."
He started to work faster, tearing his mind off thoughts of how many different ways he would like to take this lean, handsome creature…and be taken by him in turn, as well. Undertaker giggled under his breath, sounding a bit more like the creepy mortician that Ronald was used to before he'd seen the hidden facets of the personality beneath that.
~xox~
Dinner came out lovely, but it was difficult to focus on the small talk when he was so distracted by his guest. Undertaker kept watching the way Ronald's lips formed words, and the motions of his throat as he swallowed food or drink. Yes, he was most definitely a comely specimen…and the mortician had promised to bed him after their meal. As that time came closer and closer, he found himself growing nervous. It was very easy to say that he wanted to make love in the heat of passion, but now he wondered if he could go through with it.
The self-doubt had begun to poison him again. It wasn't just due to not being intimate with anyone for so long; it was also the haunting memory of what had happened to the last person he'd dared to show affection to. He tried to reason with himself that he was being paranoid, but he couldn't banish the thought of Ronald ending up like the last one—and he hadn't even bedded him.
"You okay there?" Ronald asked as he finished up the last bite of his greens.
Undertaker snapped out of it and he smiled at him. "Of course, love. I'm just thinking I might have used a bit more tarragon on this meat."
Ronald shrugged. "Tasted fine to me. Better than fine." He winked at him. "You'd make someone a good wife."
The mortician smirked. "And I suppose you'd keep me barefoot in the kitchen if I were yours, eh?"
The agent shook his blond head and reached for his drink. "Nah. I'd keep you naked except for those boots."
Undertaker chuckled and had a drink of his wine. "Careful with that. Something vital could get burned or scalded, and then where would we be?"
Ronald's foot slid up his thigh under the table. "I'd nurse it back to health…kiss it all better."
The ancient's lips parted as the questing, sock-covered foot settled between his thighs and began to knead his crotch enticingly. He hardened shamelessly in his pants, his pulse quickening. "I've little doubt you'd be very good at nursing a fellow that way, Ronnie."
The blond grinned at him, and he put down his drink and got up. He circled around the small table and he reached for Undertaker's hand. "Looks like you're about finished too. What do ya say we leave the dishes for later and go straight for dessert?"
Undertaker nearly made the excuse that he hadn't finished his wine, but he knew it was a shoddy defense…and he did want this charming young reaper. He pushed his chair back a bit and stood up with him, gazing down at him with quietly apprehensive eyes. "Seems you've got a sweet tooth of your own, m'dear."
"For a silver fox like you, you bet." Ronald began to tug lightly on his hand, urging him to follow to the bedroom. His eyes scanned the mortician's bared chest with appreciation. Undertaker went with him, his nervous excitement mounting. He wasn't sure what to expect of this, but he had faith that his body would remember things that his mind had forgotten.
They made it into the bedroom and Ronald came into his arms, his lips seeking out Undertaker's. The ancient returned his kiss, tongue seeking out the blond's with growing passion. The heat of the moment raced through him, filling him with a sweet ache of desire. Ronald's hands rested on his chest for a moment, before sliding over his pecs and down to his abs. His kiss became more aggressive and he tactfully turned with the taller reaper and began to back him up toward the bed. Undertaker's shirt fluttered to the floor within moments, and Ronald gave his chest a light shove to push him onto the bed.
"Mmm," purred the blond as the Undertaker fell back on the bed, legs dangling over the side of it. "Right where I want you."
He straddled the mortician, his lips trailing kisses over his neck to his shoulder, tongue tracing scars as he went. Undertaker stroked his hair and he shivered a bit as one of Ronald's hands boldly stroked his stomach and lower, making its way to the waistline of his pants. Still straddling his hips, Ronald sat up for a minute and he took his glasses off to set them on the bedside table. His hand reached under his body to cup the mortician's groin and he smiled at him as he palmed it and Undertaker instinctively lifted up, pressing more firmly into it.
"Big fella," said the blond with appreciation. "I'm kind of worried I might disappoint you. I'm not equipped like you are, sexy."
"How you use it counts more than size, as I recall," encouraged Undertaker with a smile, though he'd begun to tremble uncontrollably. "Damn, I wish I could stop that," he muttered in closing, annoyed by how virginal he was acting. Might as well be a maiden on her wedding night, as timid as he was feeling. He couldn't stop the flush from spreading over his pale cheeks, either.
Ronald's expression softened, and he leaned forward to kiss the mortician lingeringly. "Well, I've never had complaints in that department," he assured confidently, "and it's okay to be nervous. Ya've been alone for a long time, 'Taker. You've got a good excuse."
His soft lips traveled the ancient's jaw and throat again, nuzzling, kissing and sucking lightly. "I'll make it real good for ya, no matter how we do it or how many times. I like ya too much to slack off."
Undertaker's lips parted, his breath quickening as Ronald squirmed down further and started unbuttoning his own shirt. "I…have oil we can use," said the mortician. Heavens, they certainly shouldn't go without that. "It's in the medicine cabinet in the loo. Mayhap I should go and fetch it, before we go much further."
Ronald shook his head, steadily making his way down his chest. "Don't worry about that." He paused unbuttoning his shirt and he reached into an inner pocket of his blazer to retrieve a tube of water-based lubricant from it, and he set it on the bed. His mischievous, green-gold eyes looked up and he smiled at the ancient, winking at him. "I've been keeping prepared for this…just in case. 'Sides, I'm afraid if I let you go anywhere now, ya might lose your nerve."
Undertaker licked his lips and smiled, unable to refute that observation. Ronald, it seemed, had learned to read him very well since he began to open up to him. "Observant chap." He ran pale fingers through the soft, feathered blond hair and he made himself relax. His breath hitched involuntarily as Ronald returned his attention to his chest and circled his right nipple with his tongue, dampening it and making it harden into a pale pink bud.
"Love your skin," murmured the blond, pressing light kisses around the erect nipple before moving over to the other one to give it the same treatment. He loosened his tie and finished unbuttoning his shirt as he teased the sensitive flesh, lips closing over the nipple to suckle it. "Mmm, softer than silk," he finished as he started making his way down to his abdomen.
The blond's jacket came off first, tossed carelessly to the floor. Undertaker ran his fingers over the sleeves of Ronnie's shirt, finding the garter bands that allowed him to adjust the length of them strangely alluring. He was breathing heavily by now, and he felt confident enough to caress the agent's chest and stomach, now bared for his pleasure through the open shirt. Ronald made a sound of approval and he unsnapped the sleeve garters so that he could shrug out of the garment. It fluttered to the floor near his jacket. He popped the button on Undertaker's pants and he tugged them down enough to expose his cock.
The mortician tensed again involuntarily when Ronald's feet touched the floor on either side of his left boot and the blond grasped his pink-capped erection. "It's okay," promised Ronald—much the same way he had that first time he'd initiated an encounter. He watched Undertaker's face as he slowly began to stroke the length of it, and he smiled as the silver reaper's eyes fluttered shut. "Damn you're gorgeous."
Undertaker opened his eyes again to find the blond gazing at his endowments with admiration. When he bent over to run his tongue along the underside of the shaft, the mortician sucked in a sharp, uneven breath and he twitched in Ronald's grasping hand. "Oh…my," he breathed, not even consciously aware of his own words.
The velvety lips kissed up and down his length next, almost reverently. He was hardly aware of his boots being unbuckled until Ronald began to work them off, and then his pants were quick to follow and land somewhere on the floor amidst other discarded clothing articles. He had to give the blond credit; he was skilled with undressing a fellow before he even knew what was happening.
"Haahh…Ronnie," he moaned when those lips encircled the swollen girth of his cock and slid down over them. One of the agent's palms cupped the sack beneath it to fondle it as he began to work his mouth up and down the Undertaker's arousal. The other stroked his bare, combat-marked thigh as he pleasured him, quietly reassuring him.
He was good…very good. Undertaker closed his eyes and took some steadying breaths, vaguely recalling using his mouth this very same way on others in the past. He'd been very talented with this sort of lovemaking himself, once upon a time, though as Ronald turned his head and bobbed it faster, he had to admit the blond might be a tad better at it than he'd been. He stopped thinking of his performance anxiety and he just concentrated on feeling…enjoying the moment. He opened his eyes in surprise and looked down when he felt his member get fully encased, and a groan burst from his lips at the sight of Ronald deep-throating him.
That was particularly impressive to him. He was quite well-endowed and not many could manage to take him that deep without choking on it at least a little. The blond seemed to have no gag reflex at all, and as he began to make swallowing motions with his throat to accompany the firm suction of his lips and bobbing motions, the ancient swore his vision started to go black around the edges.
"Oh…oh mercy," he panted, head falling back against the soft comforter on his bed.
He wasn't even aware that his companion had reached for the lubricant and opened it…wasn't aware that he'd stopped massaging his balls and stroking his thigh to apply the gel to his fingers and warm it up. Ronald nudged his thighs further apart, hooking his legs over his bare shoulders as the oral pleasuring went on, and Undertaker's back arched when he felt a slick finger press into him with shocking ease. The surprise was compounded when that questing digit found the gland inside within moments, and he became aware that while Ronald's hands weren't particularly big, the fingers were long.
"Ah, love," said the mortician in a shaken gasp as the tender spot was stroked with skill. Another finger wedged gently inside to join the first, and the slight discomfort of the breach was hardly worth noticing due to the greater feelings of pleasure lancing through him. His hips lifted instinctively and he grabbed the bedding with fisted hands as Ronald's mouth released him to the tip, the tongue swirling around the head of it.
Styx, the boy wasn't just good; he was fantastic. Undertaker began to pant heavily as Ronald's head resumed bobbing, his fingers thrusting and curling inside to make his body sing with delight. The mortician's toes began to curl and he vaguely heard the sound of a zipper being drawn down. The next thing he knew, the fingers withdrew to be replaced by the thicker girth of the blond's cock.
"Easy, beautiful," said the Dispatch agent in a husky, breathy voice as he started driving himself in slowly. "Try not to clench up on me. I ain't as big as you but I'm still big enough to hurt ya, and I don't want that."
Undertaker's breath hitched and he bore down, operating on instinct once again. Yes, he remembered how to make this part easier. There was some uncomfortable stretching at first, but he made himself relax and not fight the intrusion as he opened his eyes to gaze up at his lover's youthful face. Ronald's expression was a blend of concentration and delight as he steadily sheathed himself within him, his eyes meeting and holding the mortician's. For someone so young to be so skilled still came as a surprise to the ancient, but he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying his efforts.
"Oh yeah," sighed Ronald with satisfaction, now fully encased in the older reaper's snug passage. His eyes went heavy-lidded, the blond-tipped lashes partially veiling the glow in them. "Damn you feel good, baby."
"I'm…hardly an infant," gasped Undertaker, unfamiliar with the modern term of romantic endearment.
Ronald's eyes opened fully again and he chuckled unsteadily. "Didn't mean it…like that. It's just an expression." He withdrew slowly before driving himself back in, grunting a little at the squeezing sensation around his cock. "If it throws ya off, I'll try to remember not to use it."
He smiled at him and his hand curled around the mortician's saliva-dampened erection, still slick with lubricant. Undertaker couldn't even be sure when the boy had managed to get his pants off and lube himself up, he'd distracted him so thoroughly.
"I think…I can get used to it," reasoned the mortician, finding it difficult to care what strange expressions came out of this young man's mouth in the heat of passion. "R-right now, I think you could call me a doughnut and I'd hardly care, darlin'."
Ronald's grin widened, and he gave another pump, provoking a moan from the ancient. "You're close. I'm glad you didn't come while I was getting ya ready, though. I like making that happen with my dick if I can." He started to rock steadily, leaning over Undertaker and incidentally pushing his legs up and back, deepening the penetration. "Feel good?"
It felt quite a bit more than good, but the silver reaper's attempt to respond resulted in an incoherent noise he couldn't even describe—something between a whimper and a groan. This feeling…oh, how he'd missed it. He didn't want it to end, but as Ronald guessed, he was very close to orgasm already. As Ronald's smooth thrusts began to quicken, his inner walls were massaged steadily and the Undertaker's breath huffed with each pump.
"I'll take that…as a yes," panted the blond with a blissful smirk. "You feel amazing, 'Taker. So tight…fuck, I dunno how long I'll be able to keep this up…been a while since…I topped…ahh…unh…oh, yeah…"
~xox~
Ronald began to sound more like the receiver than the giver as the pleasure grew and grew. He knew what he was doing, sure, but he unfortunately didn't have as much staying power as he would have preferred. He'd known guys that could keep at it for hours, either by taking brief breaks from movement when they started getting close to orgasm, or by being blessed with a short refractory period. He himself didn't take very long to recover after climax, but he'd rather keep going for as long as he could.
That was rapidly proving to be a pipe dream, though. As he stroked his lover off and quickened his pace, the bed began to creak and his moans grew louder. Undertaker's cock was producing little drops of precum and his toes were curling up. The mortician reached up to grasp Ronald's tense shoulders, his nails digging grooves into it as the blond's efforts brought him closer to the edge. There was a certain, satisfying kink to the pain that made Ronald groan. His low, resonant cries were like music to Ron's ears and it increased his excitement.
He was so thankful when Undertaker came in his stroking hand, the mortician's head tossing on the pillows as he tensed and shook with it. Ronald smiled at him, loving that stunning expression of pleasure on the ivory features as his lover succumbed to his climax. Now he could come as well, without feeling inept for it. He whimpered at the feel of Undertaker clenching around him and he slammed into him, unable to help himself. Louder cries burst from his lips; he'd never been able to maintain a stoic front whether he was giving it or taking it himself. Now was sure as heck no exception to that rule.
"'Taker," he moaned, eyes squeezing shut as that thrill of tension intensified in his pelvis and spread out. "Ahh…hahh…fuck!"
It happened then, and he vaguely felt those long nails combing through his hair as the pleasure exploded. Panting for air, he bowed his head and braced his hands on either side of Undertaker's hips to keep from pitching forward. He twitched inside of him for several moments after spurting inside of him. Now trembling himself from the release, he opened his eyes again and he gazed down at the silver god lying there beneath him. The flush had faded from Undertaker's cheeks and he smiled quietly up at him with a lazy, sensual expression of satisfaction on his scarred countenance. He traced the blond's slack lips with a fingernail, before caressing his sweaty face.
Ronald turned his head to kiss the exploring fingertips, feeling like he'd just crashed through the gates of paradise. He was sad for it to end, but he was confident that Undertaker would be willing to do it with him again later. Maybe he'd even feel confident enough to switch with him and top. The thought of that would have given Ronald immediate wood, if he hadn't just blown his load.
"That was amazing," sighed Ronald sincerely. "You're amazing."
He eased the Undertaker's legs off his shoulders and he withdrew from him, humming a little with residual pleasure as he slid out of his body. Undertaker chuckled softly as Ronald climbed onto the bed with him and laid his head on his chest with a contented sigh. The black nails lightly caressed the blond's shoulder as he put an arm around him.
"I didn't do much of anything except lay here," said the mortician.
Ronald lifted his head off his chest and shook his head. "Totally not true. You might not have realized it, but you were working those muscles and giving me a hell of a ride." He grinned and he kissed the longest scar slashing over the mortician's torso. "And you've got the sexiest bedroom eyes I've ever seen, too."
"Good to know I was able to please you as much as you pleased me." Undertaker combed his fingers through his hair again, his breathing slowing down to normal as the afterglow of the encounter replaced the excitement. "My, my…you really do have talent with that mouth, Ronnie. I'll have to work hard to measure up to you when my turn comes around."
Ronald's heart skipped a beat at the prospect. "Hope you're not just teasing when ya say you want to have a turn on me, 'Taker."
The ancient smiled. "Not at all. I just take a bit of warming up, I s'pose. If you can be patient with me, I'm sure I can recall how to perform. To be honest, I came close to asking if you'd mind switching roles with me, when you got me so hot and bothered. Then you were inside of me and well…that thought went out the bloody window."
Ronald's jaw dropped. "You were gonna ask t' top? Aw, man…I would'a jumped on that." He sighed and looked down at his sated groin accusingly. "Stupid, horny 'little Knoxie'."
"You want me inside that badly, do you?" Undertaker's smile softened a little, those expressive eyes revealing a touch of uncertainty.
"Well yeah," answered Ron with a little shrug. He laid his head on his chest again an he snuggled the older reaper. "But I ain't complaining about how it went, either. You're one hot…lover."
He was about to say "fuck", but he revised it. After that experience, he knew for sure that the Undertaker was a hell of a lot more than a fuck, and there was no way he'd feel the compulsion to leave while he was asleep.
Undertaker stroked his hair again, closing his eyes. "I think I need to build my stamina, love. You wore this old codger out and I'll need to keep up with you, if I'm to keep you satisfied."
Ron smirked. "I'll bet you'll surprise yourself, gorgeous." He yawned and remembered at the last minute to cover his mouth. "But I'm just as worn out as you are, so don't worry."
"You're still catching up on rest after that ridiculous sleep deprivation you put yourself through," pointed out the ancient.
Ronald smacked his lips and threw a leg over the Undertaker's hips. "Had to take care of my guy," he mumbled sleepily, his other leg hanging out over the side of the bed.
"I think mayhap we ought to get into a more comfortable position," suggested Undertaker softly.
A soft snore was his response, and he looked down at the yellow-blond head resting against his chest. "Ronnie?"
The younger reaper didn't stir, already fast asleep.
"My goodness, it doesn't take you long, does it?" Undertaker grinned with amusement, and he carefully rolled the blond off of him to maneuver him into the vertical position on the bed, before stretching out beside him. Ronald seemed oblivious to all of it, sleeping peacefully through the manhandling except to instinctively snuggle up to him once he was by his side again.
With a soft chuckle, the mortician held him close and allowed his own eyes to drift shut. Emotional turmoil had done as much a number on him as Ronald's sleep deprivation had done on the blond. The experience they'd just shared, however, made it better for the legendary reaper.
~xox~
-To be continued
