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You've Hungered For This All Your Life

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Keep your head, Russell recites to himself like a mantra, keep your head, keep your --

But it does no good, not like this, not during an ambush like this. Not with Hugh balls-deep in Russell's ass and Hugh's hand jacking him off like he's watched Russell do it to himself, Hugh knows just what -- fuck --

Keep your head! Only Russell can't hear himself over his own grunts, and Hugh's wicked whispers, Jesus Christ. Russell knew this might be a mistake, the best kind of mistake but still a mistake.

He keeps swearing to himself that he's going to stop working himself up like this. He's getting old, he's almost fifty for fuck's sake. One day he's going to make a complete ass of himself, one day his dick won't cooperate, though fuck oh fuck this is not that day, his dick won't stop cooperating, Hugh knows just how to --

"You're going to come so hard for me, Rusty," Hugh promises, shifting the angle just a bit, so that Russell can only cry out in agreement.

He hadn't meant for it to go this far. Really he hadn't -- sex with Hugh, fine, of course he'd wanted that, but he hadn't dared imagine Hugh taking him like this. Everyone looks at Hugh, everyone flirts with Hugh, men and women, young and old, and because Hugh is possibly the most amazing man in the world, never temperamental, never rude, working twice as hard as anyone else with a smile on his face, Hugh manages to convince them all that he's flirting back. That he'd like to satisfy every one of them, the way he's doing to Russell right now --

Oh God oh God and even though Russell knew better than to believe the legend Hugh spins, completely content in the body that Hugh works so hard to sculpt, never so much as glancing at anyone besides the wife who's even older than Russell, he couldn't have expected this. To be honest, Russell hadn't been sure he had anything Hugh wanted. It isn't as if they haven't known each other for years, and they've flirted before, since Russell, too, can get away with flirting with everyone, usually because people are afraid of offending him, though Russell doesn't believe Hugh's afraid of anyone, not like this --

"Thought you'd like it a bit rough," growls Hugh in approval as Russell's teeth bite down, unplanned and unconscious, in the firm muscle covering Hugh's shoulder.

Jesus. Keep your head! Even though Russell's seen bigger cocks, even taken bigger cocks, though not for years, he doesn't think anyone has ever felt so huge and hard inside him. It must be how hard Hugh is thrusting, Almighty God usually people are careful with Russell, how they talk to him and how they flirt with him and how they fuck him. He never realized, before, until he offered, not really expecting --

Fuck! Of course Russell had known it wasn't just playing around, but he'd been sure Hugh didn't know. Even though Russell had felt compelled to confess to Dani, who'd told him to go fuck himself since she was no longer interested in his games and when was Russell going to grow up and see that they weren't games...

"You're thinking so loudly I can hear you," Hugh hisses in his ear, giving Russell's cock a particularly exquisite tug.

Holy fucking hell, Russell wants to explain that he is paying attention, in fact he hasn't been able to think of anything else for days-weeks-Christ-how-long-has-it-been, but he can't speak because Hugh's tongue is in his mouth. Who would have guessed that friendly, generous Jackman would be such a greedy bastard in bed, or, worse, that friendly, generous Jackman would take Russell apart this way. If Hugh has paid enough attention to figure out that it's exactly what Russell --

Goddamn it, it started the same way with Paul, who'd always been able to read Russell too. Since they started fucking, anyway, something Paul claimed had only happened because Russell was an intolerable tease, which Russell supposed was true or he wouldn't keep finding himself like this with his ass in the air getting filled so thoroughly. Why are you calling, Russ? Paul had asked just that morning with a sardonic smile that Russell could hear across the miles between their mobiles, and Russell had started to explain, no reason, just missing you, though he'd never been able to fool Paul, I miss you, too, but there must be some reason you missed me tonight. Did one of my films turn up when you were flipping channels, or does the reason have a name?

So Russell had explained about Hugh, helplessly, because he loved Paul and he never wanted to hurt Paul but Paul of all people knew that even when all parties involved agreed that it was fine, it wasn't cheating, free pass to fuck his brains out, the flame could burn so hot that it had to be put out before everyone got swept away in the fire. It wasn't a question of resentment from his wife but of not being able to live two lives at once, that's what Paul had said, it wasn't fair to his kids, maybe if he and Russell were older and their families were older or maybe if they lived in the same place or maybe if they were in different places in their own lives. What could Russell say but of course, he understood, and he did understand because it was burning away his own life at the edges, though he went home and cried and moped for weeks. Then he did the same thing all over again with Alan except it was perfect because Alan was completely straight, there was no chance of anything ever happening, Russell could dream all he wanted and flirt outrageously without any risk, even kiss Alan on stage without any...

"Rusty." The word, the low gravelly voice just beginning to sound out of control, jerks Russell back to this place where Hugh's prick is thrusting into places he's pretty sure no one else has ever reached and Hugh's hand is doing something to his foreskin no one else ever tried and Russell's about to scream and come and embarrass himself with Hugh playing him so expertly. No distraction could hold that off for long. "I'm fucking you. I don't do this with just anyone," Hugh grates in his ear, biting down on the lobe for emphasis. "Pay attention."

And maybe Russell needs the risk as much as the sex, even more than the sex, because he's right here, staring into Hugh's eyes since Hugh won't let him look anywhere else, he could fall in love right here, with Hugh making him forget he's ever felt anything like this before. Maybe he never has felt anything like this before, because Hugh is in a category all his own, Russell has had a bit of a crush for years but now Hugh is older and better looking and could probably snap Russell in half if he wanted to and he's not afraid to fuck Russell so hard that no one else ever again might be able to touch those places --

Too much, that's it, Russell hears himself making a sound he didn't know human throats could make, and his dick is spurting and spurting in Hugh's hand, and he's shouting things he doesn't want to hear because then he'll have to know he said them, afterward, though right now they're all true. Then Hugh's hips buck and stutter and thank god, thank god Russell isn't totally humiliated, though Hugh's more of a grunter than a screamer and if he's saying words Russell can't make them out over the roaring in his own head which goes on for a long time, longer than the pulses in his cock, longer than Hugh clenching and shoving his hips and licking the sweat off Russell's neck, which makes Russell cry out again.

"Oof." Hugh flops beside him with an ear to ear grin that Russell can feel low in his belly, uncoiling toward his cock, even though he just came. "That was even better than I imagined."

"Been imagining this for long?" Russell asks hoarsely, trying for nonchalance but sounding breathless and pleased and eager for promises. He's already so overheated that he can't imagine that Hugh can see him blushing, but Hugh knots and tosses the condom somewhere and turns, still grinning, to kiss his flushed cheek.

"Longer than you have, I bet." There's something reproachful in the voice, Russell wants to defend himself against it, but before he gets a chance, Hugh adds, "For years I promised myself I wouldn't try. Then this film came along and I knew I wouldn't be able to help it."

So it's the film. Russell knows that he should be relieved, not so disappointed that there's a sick feeling deep in his gut. He tells himself that's only from having the muscles crushed from the position he was in a few moments earlier. "Valjean's revenge," he says, surprised that he can keep his voice as steady as he does. There are some advantages to having been an actor for so long.

"Revenge?" The bed shakes with Hugh's laughter. "That's your word. Valjean doesn't believe in revenge." Hugh's eyes are on the ceiling, or on heaven, and his smile is angelic. "Javert's redemption," he adds dreamily. And before Russell can come up with a decent reply to that, Hugh has rolled over and is kissing him as thoroughly as he fucked him, tongue thrusting with careful intent every time Russell thinks he's going to stop, and Russell clutches Hugh's shoulders because there's nothing he can do but hold on so he doesn't drown in it.

Whatever Hugh says, this must be revenge for something. Why else would he be putting so much of himself into it, not letting Russell catch his breath, shifting his thigh against Russell so that Russell's hypersensitive, exhausted dick has no choice but to twitch for him? Russell moans helplessly, but it takes Hugh several seconds to relent and let him up for air.

"It isn't just the film, if that's what you're telling yourself right now to blow off what we just did." Hugh's smile is centimeters from Russell's mouth and his eyes are dark and merry. "But if you want to pretend we didn't just do it, I won't give you away."

Whatever else, whatever it may cost him, Russell wouldn't pretend it hadn't happened for anything he can think of, except possibly the chance to do it again. "If it isn't the film, then why today?" he asks, still sounding breathless and eager to his own ears. "What did I do today that told you it was the right day?"

Hugh shrugs. His entire body is humming with energy that Russell can feel in his own tired muscles. "You smiled at me," Hugh says nonchalantly.

"Don't I always?"

"Not like you want to eat me for dinner."

Christ almighty. Russell doesn't even bother telling himself to keep his head, it's hopeless if Hugh is going to say things like that. His cock gives another feeble, helpless twitch. Hugh's, he can tell, is already much farther along the road to recovery. It figures that with a body like that, Hugh also has the stamina of a lion.

The feeble, helpless twitch has not escaped Hugh's attention. A slow smirk crosses Hugh's face and his leg insinuates itself between Russell's. "You like it when I say things like that?" Russell doesn't dare reply through the shudder of pleasure that rocks him as Hugh's thigh presses his depleted yet undeniably attentive dick. "You can, if you want. Eat me for dinner. I'll even wash first."

It can't only be instinct telling Hugh just how to move his thigh against Russell, it must have been a person, and Russell doesn't know whether to be grateful or crazed with jealousy, he never wants to share this with anyone else, not even in past tense, he'd lock Hugh up somewhere if he didn't know full well that Hugh wouldn't have any problem breaking out of anything Russell used to keep him. "I may do that," he croaks, his voice is ruined, there will be no rehearsals or sing-alongs tonight, he may as well wreck his tonsils the best possible way, seeing how much of Hugh he can swallow. Holy fuck, he's getting hard again. "No washing necessary."

"With the lights on. I want to see you with your mouth around my cock."

The world explodes behind Russell's eyes. He's pretty sure that if Hugh hadn't just fucked him into the mattress, he'd be coming all over himself and Hugh's thigh. "Fuck!" he gasps, clutching at Hugh's shoulders. He supposes he's earned the growl and nip at his earlobe that follows. "You're in the wrong side of this business. You should be making porn."

"You could make it with me." Hugh's head lifts, and how does he manage to look dreamy and sinful at the same time? "We could do a series. The one where I tie you to the bed and ride your cock and don't let you come for hours. The one where I have you on all fours and make you watch your face in the mirror while I fuck you." Strangled sounds force their way out of Russell's throat. "The one where I put a leash on you and walk you on your hands and knees in the grass, and you pant and suck me off and come humping my leg -- if you're good I'll let you piss on a tree --"

It's like Hugh has seen pages of Russell's mental spank book that Russell didn't even remember were there, and as mortifying as it is to have someone else looking at them, it's also the most exciting thing that's ever happened to him. "Please," he hears himself saying, no, begging, and feels Hugh's breath heating his ear:

"Please shut up? Or please do it? I don't hear you saying no, enough of this."

"I'll never get enough of this." Holy Mary Mother of God, he did not mean to say that aloud, but there's no point in pretending he doesn't mean every word. "I want all of it. Jesus. Do you know what you're doing to our lives?"

"Tell me," Hugh instructs him, lifting his head. For a split second Russell watches the confidence disappear, replaced by -- what is that? Fear? Bravado?

Then the confidence is back, but all at once Russell can see that it's a front, and Hugh isn't particularly better at coping, just better at, well, keeping his head. "Suppose I don't let you go," he begins.

There it is again, definitely fear and something like longing. "If you can stop me," Hugh interrupts, voice cracking just a bit.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't want this. As much as I do." Apparently they're both to be reduced to half-sentences now. "Which could get very...messy."

Hugh's eyes, already deep brown, much darker than Russell's, turn nearly black as his eyelids narrow. "I want messy," he growls, though isn't a performance now but an admission. "I need -- this."

And somehow Russell must have known, because none of it would have flayed him open like this if he hadn't guessed that this was underneath. "You have me," he says, to see what effect it will have on Hugh, and it must have the right one because again Russell is being kissed so thoroughly he can't think anymore, let alone speak.

He's a bit sore, how could he not be after being fucked the way Hugh pounded him into the mattress, yet for a minute he thinks Hugh is going to do it again, push back into him without any further preparation or even oh fuck a condom, Christ maybe he's going to need a safeword next time, that's never happened before, but even now Hugh knows there are some limits because he shifts downward, "You can eat me later," muffled because he's licking Russell's sweaty, sticky belly before he's licking the head of Russell's cock. And then lower, pushing Russell's thighs apart, raising one leg over his shoulder to --

Oh Jesus he's not. Not after fucking Russell like that, it probably isn't even safe, well, Russell knows that it is safe but they haven't had that talk in so many words and fuck oh fuck oh holy hell mother of Christ don't stop and Hugh is chuckling, making Russell vibrate inside and out as he moves his tongue, there aren't words for this, Russell is mewling helplessly, his wife won't do this and no one else ever would have without a wash and there aren't enough profanities for how good this is, "I love you," is what he's crying out, "Love you, love you," and Hugh chuckles again.

"I bet you say that to everyone who sticks his tongue in your ass."

"There's no one oh Christ Hugh, no one, God, can't you feel what you do, you have to stop if you wanted just sex I can't do just sex with you, stop don't stop oh fuck please!"

A finger replaces the tongue as Hugh shifts, kissing back up Russell's cock after one long swipe over his balls. "I don't do just sex." Russell can hear the grin he knows he's going to see when he looks down, though Hugh also looks greedy and hungry, mouth poised over Russell's cock as if he's a cock-sucking vampire about to feed. "You are never going to forget this, and if you try to walk away, it'll haunt you, I swear I'll haunt you, Rusty..."

Then Hugh swallows him to the hilt and Russell is back to babbling, "Never walk away, never forget this, oh please never stop!"

He glances down, sees Hugh with his knees drawn up under himself to hold his weight while he uses one hand on Russell, the other on himself. Hugh touching himself is better than any porn Russell has ever seen. It's not Hugh's body, that's almost intimidating in its perfection, it's Hugh's focus, his ability to stroke himself in one rhythm while he's fingering Russell in another and sliding his mouth up and down on Russell in yet another, like he's playing several musical instruments at once. No wonder Russell enjoys singing with him...

Holy fucking hell Hugh is doing something with his finger that makes Russell cry out, there will be no singing tonight. "Please," he gasps. "Give me yours, want to suck that beautiful cock of yours." He feels Hugh chuckle around him then shift around without moving either his mouth or his finger, straddling Russell, pressing back toward his face. Hugh smells a bit like latex and a bit like Russell but that cock is too perfect to resist, pointing down at him from thick dark hair the same color as Hugh's beard when he has one. Hugh fucks Russell's mouth as he sucks him, it's like Hugh is doing fucking push-ups over him, muscles rippling in his thighs and belly, Russell reaches up to squeeze Hugh's ass and feel the muscles working there. Hugh should be carved in marble, no, Hugh's mouth is so much hotter than marble and knows how to roll a foreskin up and down...

"Use your hands and tell me what you're thinking," Hugh orders. No one talks to Russell like this in or out of bed. He wonders what it would be like to take orders like that all day, wash my back, Rusty, get me dressed, Rusty, make me a protein shake, Rusty. He has to pull his mouth off Hugh's beautiful cock to groan.

"Thinking I might retire to become your personal trainer," he pants as Hugh sucks him because he doesn't quite dare say your personal slave. "One hundred push-ups like this with your cock in my mouth, one hundred sit-ups with your cock in my ass..."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Hugh says distinctly around a mouthful of Russell's cock, tongue moving all around the head as he speaks. The finger in Russell's ass does something that's so good it makes Russell's ass spasm. "Keep talking."

"One hundred crunches with my tongue in you, one hundred pull-ups lowering yourself onto my cock and pulling yourself off it, one hundred curls that take the same amount of time it takes me to swallow your cock and let it slide out..."

"You're hired," Hugh gasps and comes all over Russell's face and chest, grunting like he's being turned inside out. His fingers slide out of Russell's ass, which is just as well because the ache is on the verge of changing from hurts so good to real pain, stuttering on Russell's cock. Russell's about to tell him to stop, he can't do it again so soon and Hugh might as well know right off exactly what he isn't getting here, but then Hugh's mouth is back before he's even caught his breath and maybe it's not that Hugh has so much experience but more that Hugh really loves sucking Russell's cock, Russell can't remember when or if anyone ever held on to him so possessively or kept at it with such determination or tried so many different ways of stroking kissing blowing scraping swallowing around him all while making noises like this is ambrosia, this is forbidden fruit, this is heaven.

It is heaven, and Russell ends up shooting his load while calling out all the things he couldn't stop himself from saying earlier, except this time he's also swearing that he means them. He thinks Hugh probably believes him because when he winds up blubbering, which must be from all the screaming and his ass being so tender, Hugh curls up with him and pets his hair and says, "It's all right, Rusty, it's all good, I love you too."

It's the first time in Russell doesn't know how many years that he falls asleep after sex without having to have a cigarette.