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R eal thought his head would explode when Azrael reached his hand down between them and wrapped it around his cock.

The feel of the palm on his dick almost had him blowing his load, but he was better than that. He wasn’t going to ruin the only time they had. Azrael was grieving over his brother being shot. Azrael needed comfort. Azrael wanted this.

Real slammed his thoughts off and sank into the younger man’s grip. He fisted Azrael’s hair and kept his head still while he devoured his mouth, leaving his lips red and swollen.

This had to be a fucking dream or maybe it was his nightmare.

He pulled off Azrael’s mouth and buried his own into the man’s slender neck. He marked him by accident. Adding one red mark after the other, trailing them down the front of Azrael’s throat, shoulders, and chest. The slender assassin arched and made sexy little noises in his throat.

Groaning, Azrael gyrated beneath him. Real wasn’t done, he wanted Azrael out of his mind. He slipped his hand down between Azrael’s legs and played with his balls, slipped his hand up and down his cock, and then grabbed a lube packet.

When Azrael’s back bowed off the bed, Real wrapped an arm around the slender man’s waist and flipped them over. Real, with his back to the bed, drew Azrael’s legs over so he was straddling his hips.

Wrapping his hand around Azrael’s cock, he twisted and pulled with a firm grip, and with his other hand hard on the boy’s hip, he held Azrael’s dark eyes. When a tongue darted out and licked at those lush lips, Real slipped his hand up to the back of Azrael’s neck and drew him down for a deep kiss.

Azrael pulled back and eased down his body with kisses. Real gripped a handful of silky, dark hair.

When Azrael scooted down, he took his cock in hand. Slowly, the younger man flicked his tongue at the head of his dick and then swirled it around the slit, collecting the pearl of precome.

Real’s whole body went rigid and he fisted Azrael’s hair, tempted to jam the boy’s mouth down over his cock. He wanted to flip them and fuck Azrael until the bed broke, but he didn’t want to hurt him.

Azrael’s tongue swirled, laving and licking around the head, then sliding down the vein before closing his mouth over and taking him in as far as he could.

The boy gagged and Real felt his mind and body losing control. Real released Azrael’s hair and gripped the sheets on either side to keep himself from becoming brutal. The bedsheets tore beneath his savage grip. Azrael’s hot little mouth devoured him, sucking him like a mother’s tit.

Real tore in a gasp of breath and then fisted Azrael’s hair to draw him off his cock.

“Enough.”

Azrael licked his swollen lips as if savoring the taste of him.

Real snapped. He lifted Azrael and rolled them.

Azrael hung on, his eyes hungry, his hands stroking wherever they could touch on his skin.

It took Real several long moments to get Azrael ready to take him. He fingered the boy and stretched him until Azrael was moaning and writhing.

Bracing from above, Real guided his cock as he settled between Azrael’s parted legs. When the boy wrapped them tightly around his waist and lifted his ass, Real had just enough foresight to tear open another packet of lube.

He slathered some on Azrael and the rest on himself, and then he was back. He glanced down, afraid to look up into Azrael’s eyes.

The fear stemmed from what could possibly be pain.

Azrael’s hands gripped his arms and then slipped over his chest. Reaching down, the younger man gripped his own cock and pulled.

“Oh yeah, fuck yeah,” Azrael moaned when he started to breech his channel.

Azrael’s hips gyrated, circling, humping upward and Real made the mistake of glancing upward.

Azrael bit at his bottom lip and moaned, his dark eyes running over him with hunger.

Damn it!

How in the fuck was he supposed to stay in control when Azrael looked at him like that?

Like he was the first and last thing he saw in a universe full of chaos. Like he was the only thing he wanted.

Real moved down and took those lush lips with his mouth, sucking and laving inside, kissing Azrael breathless.

And slowly slid inside.

“Fuuuuck.” The long, drawn-out word was ripped from Azrael’s throat, and Real paused, pulled back from the kiss, and tried to look away.

He found his gaze caught and held by Azrael’s. There wasn’t pain. There wasn’t hesitancy, there was only desire.

And what scared him shitless was the fact that his universe was suddenly altered.

He shook his head in silent denial and thrust in deeper until he bottomed out. The tight squeeze of Azrael around him brought a guttural growl from his lips.

Unable to slow down, Real grabbed Azrael’s slender hips, lifted the boy’s ass and pounded home. Azrael’s legs fell lax beneath his assault, and his hands gripped the torn sheets.

Sweat slicked Real’s body and dripped down, wetting Azrael’s chest. Gripping Azrael’s shoulders for leverage, Real lost it. Chills covered his body, and his release roared up and over him. He jerked and shot his come deep.

Every inch of him was granite hard, from his face to his dick.

A cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach when he thought about how he’d lost control.

Fear had him faltering, but Azrael’s sudden moan and keening sound drew his eyes back to the arching boy.

Azrael’s slender hands jerked faster and faster at his own cock, until he was bucking and crying out, until he was shooting ropes of come up his stomach. One shot reached a brown nipple, and Real leaned over to take a taste.

He slipped out of Azrael.

It was time to go.

He stiff-armed, but Azrael anticipated the move and wrapped both arms and legs around him.

Real sank down.

He would stay.

But only for a moment.

Cold as ice.

Azrael lay watching Real, who had woken up moments ago and rolled away from him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Real reached for his discarded shirt and pulled it over his head.

Azrael frowned. Were they going to talk about this? About them? Or was Real going to pretend that nothing had happened?

He scooted from beneath the sheet and, uncaring that he was naked, he walked on his knees up behind Real. He slipped his hands over the man’s shoulders and down to caress Real’s chest.

Nuzzling into the hair at his nape, Azrael whispered softly, “Come back to bed.”

Real stiffened. Every muscle went rigid. With his shoulders tight, the warrior shrugged away from him, pulled on his shirt, and grabbed his jeans and briefs from the floor.

Azrael sank back on his heels to the bed and suddenly felt naked like never before. He yanked the sheet over his lap and glared at Real.

It didn’t do a bit of good because Real was avoiding his gaze like he had the plague.

Real stepped into his briefs, and Azrael had a moment to appreciate the man’s frame, and then Real stepped into jeans and buttoned them. Stopping at the chair near the door, Real sat and put on his socks and boots.

Azrael was tempted to shoot up from the bed, but he was naked and suddenly felt embarrassed.

Fuck that!

“You’re leaving?” He tried to keep the hurt and anger out of the words, but miserably failed.

“It’s for the best,” Real said gruffly and then stood and stalked to the door.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get to the hospital by myself,” he hissed, shaking back his long ass hair.

Real froze at the door.

Indecision kept the man with his grip on the handle.

“Just get the fuck out,” Azrael snapped.

After another small moment of hesitation, Real bolted from the room.

“Motherfucker!” he yelled and tossed off the sheet.

Leaping from the bed, his hair flew wildly around him.

This was fucking war.