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“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
Keefe shifted on his bed, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs as he watched Ms. Drew Barrymore of E.T. The Extra Terrestrial fame talk to a deep-voiced stranger while she popped corn. This had been his favorite movie growing up—his mama always warned him about the evils of Hollywood—but he’d not heeded her caution, drawn to the macabre, even then.
“You have to have a favorite…what comes to mind?”
He watched as Ms. Barrymore’s character, Casey, gave a bashful grin, playing with a sharp blade from the knife block.
“Um…Halloween. You know the one with the guy in the white mask that walks around and stalks babysitters? What’s yours?”
This one, he answered in his head with a chuckle as he snuggled deeper into the pillows, his veins surging with anticipation of what was to come.
“So…you got a boyfriend?”
“Whatcha watchin’, bud?”
He didn’t jump—but it was a near thing. His eyes darted over to where Kelvin, his boyfriend, was standing in the doorway of their room, head tilted inquisitively in the moonlight.
“Wes Craven’s 1996 horror classic, Scream,” he whispered, beckoning him over gently so as not to spook him.
Kelvin wasn’t a fan of scary movies; that much was obvious. But he had let Keefe comfort him last time at the lake house, burying his face deep into his abdomen as Keefe stroked his hair and murmured sweet nothings to soothe him. It had been nice. Intimate. Close in a way they finally got to be now, after all this time.
His eyes followed him as he padded over to the bed in starry pajamas that matched his own.
(Almost all of their jammies matched now.)
“Scream,” Kelvin mumbled under his breath. “That’s the one with the Ghost Man?”
“Ghostface, and yes,” Keefe nodded, lifting one arm for him to bury under. “There are seven in the series now, but I reckon this one is still the best.”
Kelvin wrapped an arm across his tummy, tucking his head into his pectorals.
“Why?”
His hot breath bounced off of the sliver of Keefe’s skin that peeked out through his undone buttons.
He suppressed a shiver and cleared his throat.
“Your movie is only as good as your bad guy,” he replied with conviction. He had watched enough scary movies in his lifetime—maybe more than Jesse had Hallmark ones—to know this to be a fact.
If your villain sucked? Well, he wouldn’t be a Debbie Downer about it, but…there was a reason Freddy Krueger and Pennywise were more popular than Grimcutty or The Hangman. And who were Grimcutty and The Hangman? Exactly.
“Don’t hang up on me…”
“And…this movie has a good bad guy?”
Kelvin’s voice was quiet, his whole body rigid as Ms. Barrymore’s popcorn popped and her phone rang.
“Uh-huh. Two, in fact.”
That had Kelvin shifting his head to look him in the eye.
“Spoilers, Keefe!”
“I’m sorry,” he winced. “It is a near-thirty-year-old movie, but I apologize. I should have been more respectful with my spoiler talks.”
“Yes, you should have,” Kelvin grumbled before snuggling deeper into his chest, his grimace visible as Ms. Barrymore began to run around her house, frantically locking doors.
“So, they both do dress-em-ups?” he asked, eyes only half on the movie as his face was mostly smushed into Keefe’s left pec. “As Ghost Head?”
“Ghostface and um hm,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair in repetitive circles.
“Name the killer in Friday The 13th…”
“Jason, Jason, it’s Jason!”
They watched, enraptured, as she was proven wrong, her boyfriend paying the ultimate price.
Kelvin jumped as Ms. Barrymore let out, (like the name suggested), a scream, poor Steve gutted on the patio.
“Would you get that question right? If my life was on the line?”
That had Keefe’s attention dragging from his favorite movie down to his favorite man, whose dark eyes were as wide as saucers, his voice soft, his words laced with something he couldn’t decipher.
“Of course I would, Kelvin. I would never let anything bad happen to you.”
As if those were the magic words he had been waiting for, Kelvin suddenly scrambled up, knocking the laptop off his thighs and straddling them. Keefe blinked up at him in the barely moonlit darkness, his hands automatically flying to his hips to steady him as frantic music continued to blare from the speakers.
Blindly, Kelvin slammed down the laptop lid, plunging them into a silence rapt with only their ragged breaths.
“Would you protect me from big, scary Ghost Boy—”
“Ghostface—”
“Or would you let him have his wicked way with me?”
Oh. Huh.
Keefe couldn’t help but feel the telltale sign that Kelvin was a little…excited at the prospect of his potential heroics.
“I would never,” he swore, crossin’ his heart and really hopin’ not to die.
“Right answer,” Kelvin smirked, leaning down and capturing his lips in a deep kiss.
Keefe craned his neck, tongue tracing along Kelvin’s lower lip until he opened his mouth wider, bucking up his hips so their hardening cocks could brush through their pajama pants.
Kelvin let out a whine at the building friction, grinding his own hips down.
“Off, off!” he exclaimed between kisses, frantically pulling at Keefe’s shirt, straining the buttons and popping a few. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he muttered in apology against his jaw as they both pulled it up and off his head.
“That’s better,” he sighed dreamily, his hands wandering. “Ooh yummy, you’re like a furnace, bud. My own personal space heater,” he cooed, raking his fingers down his chest, thumbs catching on his nipples, flicking and teasing.
Humming happily, he tilted and took one nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue in circles, sucking gently until it was a stiff peak.
Keefe writhed against the headboard, his eyes rolling back in his skull as his grip tightened on his hips, one hand slipping down to cup his behind.
They had been taking things pretty slow these last few months. It had been not only Kelvin’s first time with a man but his first time ever, and Keefe had wanted to honor that. Lately, though, they had been making up for lost time by ravishing each other whenever the opportunity arose. Having been entirely celibate until very recently, Kelvin understandably still shied away from some acts—they were building to certain stuff—but he loved nipple play. And frottage. And blow jobs. And—
“To-together. I want us...together.”
—that.
Keefe nodded frantically, words dying in his throat as his boyfriend rose on his knees, slipping his pajama pants down and pulling out his dick.
“No undies?” Keefe asked, his voice half an octave higher than normal.
“No undies,” Kelvin confirmed, hand stroking his cock fiercely and nodding towards the nightstand. “Get the—”
“On it.”
He reached over and pulled open the drawer, rifling around until he found what he was looking for. Holding it up triumphantly, he saw Kelvin roll his eyes at the label on the bottle of lube.
‘God Juice! An aid for committed, godly matrimony…’ another failed invention of Jesse’s that they now had a surplus of. Not that they weren’t makin’ good use of it, of course. Godly matrimony notwithstanding.
Wasting no time, Keefe got to work, coating his fingers and gripping Kelvin tight, pumping him quickly with a little twist at the head, just how he liked.
“Y-Yes,” Kelvin gasped, fucking haphazardly into his fist. “Y-Yes, Keefe. N-Now you.”
Not needing to be told twice, he used his other hand to awkwardly slip down his own pajama pants, almost bucking his bedmate off him in the process.
“Whoa, there, Buckin’ Bronco!” Kelvin exclaimed as he scrambled to right himself. “Didn’t realize I was ridin’ the mechanical bull at The Rowdy Rooster.”
Keefe shoved down the very alluring image of Kelvin riding him, takin’ his cock all nice and deep and—he shook his head, letting out a chuckle that was more of a wheeze and offering him an apologetic smile.
“My bad. I got carried away, I guess.”
Something crossed Kelvin’s face at that, his hands coming up to cup his face.
“Hey, I get carried away too sometimes,” he admitted into the darkness between them. “You…bring it out in me, Keefe Chambers.”
He punctuated that with a kiss far softer than Keefe had ever been used to in the past. There were a lot of new firsts for him, too. Kelvin wasn’t the only ‘virgin’ here in a lot of ways.
Swallowing down the familiar surge of emotion that bubbled up from deep within him whenever he allowed himself to think about what he had found with Kelvin Gemstone, his best friend, his brother in Christ, his Savior—the same emotion that often had him proposing things like ‘godly matriomy’ —he kissed him back, biting at his bottom lip and suckling on it, just how he knew he liked it.
“Y-Yes, just…just like that,” Kelvin gasped into his mouth as Keefe closed his fist around them both, jerking them off together in a punishing rhythm befitting two sinners in the throes of passion.
This wouldn’t take long. It never did. But he didn’t mind. He had had a lot of fun helping his favorite Gemstone build up his stamina bit by bit over the last few months.
On cue, after a few more strokes, their cocks sliding together with lube and precome, he felt his boyfriend tense up in his telltale way.
“I-I’m close,” Kelvin groaned into the skin of his neck, teeth clamping down on the column of his throat and nipping his way across his collarbone. “God, Keefe, Jesus Christ Almight—"
Keefe swept his thumb over his slit and that was it for Kelvin. He came hard—thick ropes of come coating both their dicks, matching jammies and Keefe’s fingers, which quickly stalled their ministrations.
“K-Keep goin’,” Kelvin panted against his jaw as his dick softened and slipped from his grip. “I wanna watch.”
Biting his lip, Keefe flexed his hand around himself, doubling his efforts, needing just that little more to get there.
“Yeah, baby, that’s it. Show me, let me see…” Kelvin murmured into his ear, his hot breath tickling his earlobe as he teased his left nipple with his fingers. “That’s it, use those big, strong hands, the same hands that would protect me from any evil doer, any of Satan’s followers, any of Lucifer’s—”
“Kelvin!” Keefe yelled as his orgasm rocked through him almost violently, thick, warm come spurting everywhere, his head thrown back so hard he banged it off the headboard.
Soft, warm hands cupped his face as dark, glistening eyes met his.
“Keefe?” Kelvin asked around a gasp as a final drop of come landed on his thigh, “You okay, buddy?”
“I’m better than I’ve ever been,” he admittedly lowly, bringing their foreheads together. “All thanks to you.”
A silence passed between them. Soft and sweet. Until their come started to dry, anyway.
Grimacing, they made their way into the bathroom to clean up, Kelvin catching his clean hand at the sink and clutching it to his chest, a wry smirk spreading across his face.
“Keefe?”
He stared at him in the mirror, enjoying how the dimmed lights brought out the flush in his cheeks and the fact that he was the one that put it there.
He squeezed his hand back, fond and so in love he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Yes, Kelvin?”
“I think Scream is my favorite scary movie.”