"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," Neal said with a scowl as he shoved his mouth to Keller's. He grabbed at Keller's lambskin belt, the expensive leather soft under his fingers, and pulled it open.
Keller bit Neal's lip, and he pulled back. "You'd think this is something I'd talk about?" He pulled hard at the buttons, ripping the shirt open, one button going flying through the air and landing across the room.
"Asshole," Neal muttered as he shrugged out of his ruined shirt. He pulled Keller down onto the bed as they both struggled out of their trousers.
Neal couldn't put his finger on why they were doing this. He hated Keller. God, he fucking hated Keller, but he felt out of control. The job had gone off without a hitch, and the payout was huge. He hadn't expected to get so turned on after the heist. But it had been immaculate, a perfect example of his criminal mastermind, if Neal did say so himself.
It seemed he wasn't the only one who got worked up after a successful night's work.
Underwear abandoned, Neal wrapped his legs around Keller's thigh and rubbed his cock against the him. "I'm not going to stop," Neal snapped before Keller could say a word. There was no turning back now.
Keller reached between his legs and grabbed his own dick, his hand bumping against Neal's body. "I want this over as fast as you do."
"Such a bad idea," Neal muttered, humping Keller's thigh. He would never admit out loud how good the wiry hairs on Keller's leg felt against his hard cock, leaking with pre-come, lubricating the friction between them.
"Fuck, Caffrey," Keller said. "You're nasty."
"You're one to talk," Neal snapped. He kissed Keller again, this time to shut him up. For everything Neal felt about Keller, every negative, sick emotion, his wicked mouth felt good, his tongue shoved deep between Neal's lips. Neal moaned, grabbing Keller around the ribs, digging his fingers hard against the bones.
Keller groaned, pushing harder to Neal's mouth, crushing Neal's lips with his teeth.
Neal's eyes fluttered open as he felt hot come spurt against his stomach and smearing against him as he thrust faster. He pushed his own thigh forward, rubbing it against Keller's balls.
"Jesus, Caffrey," Keller said, turning his face away. "That's--"
Whatever it was Keller was saying, Neal didn't hear it, his vision and hearing whiting out as he came. He moaned, lurching forward, his face pressed into Keller's cheek.
"Ow!" Keller shoved Neal off of him. "You fucking bit me."
"I did?" Neal asked absently as he rolled onto his back. He rubbed his hand down his front, feeling his own come mixed with Keller's. Why did they do this? It seemed like such a good idea a few minutes before.
"Yeah, you did," Keller snapped. He took a few deep, even breaths. "We don't talk about this ever again, not to anyone. This didn't happen."
Neal shook his head as he got up onto wobbly legs to get into the shower. He was sticky and he felt a little sick. He might be wise to try a few dry heaves over the toilet. "No, definitely not."