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His ears are so red when he's embarrassed, Buster is thinking, running his fingers through Madison's hair. It's 2009. They're in San Jose. Madison's on his knees on the floor and he still comes up to Buster's chest, even though Buster's in a chair. It's one of those straight-backed upholstered monsters. They're in a hotel.

Madison's been wanting this for months. He's been trying not to think about it, trying not to look too long or too hard in case somebody figures him out. Well, somebody figured him out. He's flushed, and breathing a little heavy, and those broad shoulders of his are rising and falling at double-pace. Maddy wants this so badly his hands are shaking.

One of Buster's favorite things about Maddy is that he's damn intense. When Madison's focused he's like a laser beam, concentrated completely on a single point. He's like that on the rubber, hungry to do the work. When he wants something, he puts everything he is into it.

"Ah can't buhlieve ah'm gon' do this," Madison says, shaking his head a little and trying to fight down a nervous smile. He looks up at Buster, and Buster just chuckles and shakes his head. "Can't buhlieve ah want to," Maddy admits. He's been wrestling with it. Buster knows how he feels. He knows exactly what that's like.

"You can shake me off, you know," Buster says, the lilt in his voice softer than Maddy's slurring Carolina piedmont drawl. "Ain't gotta do everything I say all the time."

"When ah follow yer lead, thangs work out better," Maddy says, and then bites his lip. Buster ruffles Madison's hair with one hand again, fingers curling around the shell of his ear. Madison turns his head into it, like a big old farm dog who wants his head scratched.

"You're cute," Buster says out loud, without meaning to. Maddy makes a sound exhaling through his nose in a rush, something between a huff and a snort.

"Ah look like a Carolina hayseed, big ole' nose an' ears stickin' all out and," Maddy laughs and ducks his head. Hiding doesn't help it; Buster can still see the rosy color creeping up into Maddy's ears from the back of his neck.

"Are you sayin' I've got bad taste?" Buster asks, and leans back in the chair, shifting his hips forward. Maddy's rubbing his thumbs in small circles over Buster's thighs.

"Wull how can Ah know that? Ain't even got mah mouth on it yet," Madison says, a low rumbling huskiness creeping into his voice around the edges. Hearing that makes Buster's eyes dilate, makes his whole body feel warm and tight.

"Get to it, then," Buster says, cupping the back of Maddy's neck and shifting his hips to spread his thighs a little wider. Buster's half-hard already from having Madison on his knees in front of him, touching him like that. He can feel the heat of Maddy's breath through his jeans.

Madison's hands are still shaking when he slides the heel of his pitching hand firm along the inside of Buster's thigh. When he gets to the increasingly-obvious bulge of Buster's dick, Madison flares out his fingers and cups Buster through his clothes. Buster cocks his head to the side, lazily stroking Maddy's hair, and watches him. Madison takes his time, that focus on the button-closure of Buster's jeans while he works them open one-handed. The sound of the zipper is enough to make Maddy's breathing falter.

"Pull yours out, too," Buster says, rubbing the sensitive spot just behind Madison's right ear. "Wanna see it." Buster's seen it before, in the showers. This is a whole new context. It makes Madison's blush flare, the red finally spreading from his neck to his ears to his cheeks. Maddy smiles because he's embarrassed, but he pushes his track pants down around his thighs with one hand while he pulls Buster's hard-on into the open air with the other.

Buster is cut, and thick, a little short with an upward curve and a fat, pink head. The splotchy patches of color at the square of his jaw will remind Maddy of nothing but the color of his dick for the next three weeks. Madison's a little bigger, uncut and hanging low, with a sway-lean to the left and a rich red-purple full-length shaft-to-tip flush.

Buster watches Madison lean in and grasp him by the base of the shaft. His hand is broad and hot and rough from pitching and farm work, and Buster can't keep his eyes from fluttering closed for a moment on first contact. Buster makes a low, keening groan as Maddy gives him a good long stroke, and his thighs clench. Seeing Buster melt into his chair makes Maddy's dick jump.

Madison wets his lips and leans in, nuzzling the inside of Buster's thigh on his way to drawing his tongue up the shaft of him in a long, broad sweep. Buster digs his fingers into the back of Maddy's neck, urging him forward with a little moan: "Yeah, come on."

Maddy licks his lips again, tension rushing out of him in a long breath that makes Buster shiver when it hits his skin. Wrapping his mouth around Buster's dick makes Madison's breath hitch, and he works the shaft with his hand, his tongue pressed against the slit at the tip while he sucks the head. "Yeah," Buster says, "Like that."

Madison's never sucked a dick before but he works it. Buster is convinced in that moment that he's never seen anything quite so hot as Maddy's full, soft lips flushed dark and slick with spit in a tight O around his dick, and he starts slowly moving his hips up and back, watching his cock slide in and out of Madison's mouth. Maddy matches the rhythm, rocking slightly forward and back as he takes in a little more of Buster's dick. Buster knows that he's Madison's first, and it sends a little jolt up his spine each time Maddy goes down on him, each time Maddy takes a little more into his mouth.

He can't take the whole thing without choking, but he tries, and Buster can't stop watching Maddy's dick twitch. Buster didn't expect Maddy'd stay hard through it, and it makes the building knot of pleasure-tension in his balls tighten. Buster increases the pace, sliding his dick into Madison's mouth faster and deeper as he loses control. Madison makes a low humming sound in the back of his throat with Buster's cock as far in his mouth as he can take it, and Buster curls his hands into fists in Madison's hair. They move together in short, sharp, rocking thrusts, and when Maddy starts to pull back, when Buster's dick is just pushing at the back of his throat, then Buster comes.

It's fast, in one long burst, and Madison manages to swallow half of it before he has to pull off, coughing, letting the rest smear across his lip and cheek and chin. Buster is panting, chest rising and falling heavily. Madison leans back on his heels, still flushed and breathing hard, and wipes his face with his sleeve. Maddy's laugh is short and nervous.

"It ain't exactly delicious," Madison finally says, after they've sat a moment watching each other catch their breath. Buster lets out a bark of laughter, and swats at Madison's head and ruffles his hair.

"Cocksucker," Buster says.

"Heh," Maddy laughs. "Guess Ah am, now."