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From Time To Time

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The first time that Jones crawled into bed with him, Dan panicked. Wearing nothing but his pants, the slight man curled up against him and was asleep before he could find his voice to ask what he was doing. The tiny flat only had the one bedroom, but since Jones was nocturnal they shared the small bed in shifts. Normally, Dan was up and gone before the music ended. It didn’t happen often, maybe once a week. Jones would go without sleep for a trio of days and then collapse, out before his head hit the pillow. Dan’s alarm would go off and he would turn on the light, climbing over the sleeping man and making noise as he got ready for his day, and he would sleep through it all. Dan just hoped there was never a fire when his flatmate was passed-out like that because he doubted even sirens would wake him.

He got used to it. He began to go to sleep closer to the wall and didn’t even stir when the warm body slid in next to him. Some mornings he would wake with his arm wrapped around Jones’ waist or with Jones using him as a pillow.

Everything changed the morning he woke to cool air on his chest while a wet tongue circled his nipple and sharp teeth sent lightening into his groin. With no windows in the tiny room to give him a clue to the time, he glanced at the red numbers on the Jones-faced alarm clock to see that the day was only two hours old. Jones had probably just come in from his gig, but he usually didn’t stumble in until the sun was up. He wondered if Jones was stoned. Before he could form more coherent thoughts, Jones pushed himself up to lay full length on top of the bigger man, grinding up against him and attacking his mouth with his own.

Dan was lost. At first he lay submissively as Jones trailed kisses around his face, nibbling into the pulse point under his ear before returning to his mouth. But he returned the kisses as they became more aggressive, tongues dueling for dominance now. He tangled his hands in the long hair dancing around their faces, holding it back. Jones ground his rigid erection against Dan, causing him discomfort where the elastic of his pants had him trapped, cutting into him as he felt himself start to get hard. Encouraging Jones to slide off of him, he unzipped his trousers and pushed them down enough with his pants to kick them off the rest of the way.

Jones followed suit, stripping his tight jeans off and leaving them in a pool by the bed before resuming his exploration of Dan’s neck with his tongue. He climbed back to press their bodies together. Dan ran his hands up under Jones’s tight sleeveless tee, pushing it up so that he could feel his soft belly against his own. With his angular features and tight clothes, Jones looked like he would be boney but he was instead made up of gentle curves. With his big hands, Dan cupped his ass, massaging the firm muscles.

Jones’ voice was throatier than his usual higher tones as he whimpered “oh, fuck, don’t stop.” He didn’t until he felt the need to explore more of Jones and rolled him over on his side, running his fingers through the sparse patch of curls on his chest and followed the trail that ran from his navel to spread out to join the hair that spread out onto his thighs. Dan’s beard and mustache were thick but he had little body hair. Jones, on the other hand, who never even sported stubble, had dark hair that stood out on his white body. Dan had noticed it before, in passing, as Jones walked through the flat nearly naked on occasion, but it was an unconscious observation that he suddenly found himself fascinated by.

Entranced, Dan lightly outlined Jones’ cock, trailing his fingers around the head, drawing them up and down the shaft, going lower to caress the softness of his balls and the smooth skin of the crease between his butt cheeks. Jones went motionless, a sharp intake of breath the only noise escaping his lips. Back and forth he moved his fingers, exploring, noting the small differences between Jones and himself. Finally, Jones begged “please” and brought him back to what was actually happening here. He gripped Jones in his hand, squeezing more than stroking. The light from the clock was enough to see Jones’ closed eyes and slightly open mouth as he felt him arch up and pulsing wetness spilled through his fingers to pool on his stomach.
When Jones’ breathing smoothed out, he gave Dan a grin that could only be called cheeky and moved down to stroke him and suck him into his mouth. Dan had only seen Jones leave the clubs with women, but he was too good at what he was doing to have not done it before. Maybe it takes a man to know what another man likes? It was a question for later. Right at that moment, he couldn’t breath, and didn’t want to. Jones stroked him off at the end, his cum pulsing onto his stomach to mix with the stickiness already pooled there. Reaching down beside the bed, Jones grabbed his shirt and cleaned the mess before pulling the blanket up and curling up next to Dan. With a little kiss on his chest, he was asleep.

They never talked about it. It just happened from time to time.

And then Claire moved in.