Page 42 of True North
That word was the same in Russian. “Okay, let’s go,” Misha said, and took the drinking glass out of JT’s hand.
JT wanted a shower first. Misha sat on the bed and tried to stay calm as he listened to the water running in the bathroom. A back rub could be totally innocent. Nothing was necessarily going to happen. He could keep his cool.
JT came out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry, totally nude. The contrast between his broad shoulders and his narrow hips made Misha’s mouth dry out. He stared shamelessly as JT rolled deodorant under his arms and slung his towel over the armchair in the corner that served as a dumping ground for clothes that were too dirty to go back in the drawer but not dirty enough to go in the hamper. He was going to get to touch all of that.
“Okay,” JT said. He went back into the bathroom, then came out again a moment later with a small bottle in his hands. He tossed it to Misha, who managed to catch it, and only a little bit awkwardly. “Massage oil. Your hands ready?”
As far as Misha was concerned, he had been born with hands solely so that he could one day use them to touch JT. He was looking at JT’s chest and his shoulders and his dick, hanging heavy between his thighs, and he couldn’t remember a single word in English. He popped the cap of the bottle.
“All right,” JT said. He lay down on the bed, facedown on his pillow, and shifted around until he’d found a comfortable position. “It’s at the top right, between my neck and my shoulder.”
Misha had his marching orders. He shuffled closer and drizzled a line of oil across JT’s upper back. JT flinched slightly as the liquid hit his skin, then settled. This close, Misha could count each freckle in the constellation scattered across JT’s shoulders.
He touched his fingertips to a spot along the slope of JT’s right shoulder. “Here?”
“Down a little,” JT said. “A little—yeah, there.”
Misha probed gently. He didn’t feel anything unusual, just the normal give of flesh and the resistance of bone underneath. JT hissed when he pushed more firmly, though, so Misha worked on that spot for a while, rubbing harder as he went and trying to ignore JT’s groans, which didn’t entirely sound pained.
“Okay, that’s probably enough,” JT said after a while. Misha immediately lifted his hands away, and JT added, “I didn’t say stop.”
Well. All right. After a moment, Misha found the bottle of oil discarded in the sheets and squeezed more across JT’s back, following the column of his spine. When he touched JT’s skin again, it was with flat, open hands, a caressing glide down the thick muscles of JT’s back to his waist.
“That’s nice,” JT mumbled into his folded arms. “Feels good.”
Oh, god. Misha made another pass, slower and firmer, savoring the feeling of JT’s soft, warm skin beneath his hands. Misha didn’t have a set type and found many different sorts of men attractive, but he couldn’t deny that JT’s big, muscular body really got him going. He pressed his hands into the hollow of JT’s back, wanting to go farther but not sure what JT would welcome. Probably anything, right? Misha was pretty sure he had carte blanche here.
Still, he played it safe for a while, rubbing JT’s back in slow passes and steering clear of anything below the waist. JT sighed a few times and was otherwise so limp on the bed that Misha thought he might have fallen asleep. Misha decided to swing for the fences and squeezed more oil out of the bottle, this time over JT’s lower back and the top of his ass. A little bit trickled down into the cleft between his cheeks.
That got a reaction out of JT: a sharp indrawn breath. Otherwise, he didn’t move. Misha took that as a green light and ran his hands over the plump swell of JT’s ass, spreading the oil, moving slowly to fully enjoy his first good grope of JT’s exceptional rear end.
When JT didn’t protest, Misha did it again, then really got to work rubbing and squeezing. Taking two big handfuls of JT’s ass was exactly as satisfying as he’d expected. He could smother himself in that ass and die happy.
After a few minutes of that, JT groaned into the pillow and spread his legs. “Misha. Come on.”
Misha had half a mind to make him spell out exactly what he wanted, but the words died unspoken as he watched JT part his thighs. Between them lay the shadowed swell of JT’s balls. A slow throb of arousal pulsed through Misha’s body. He was going to get to touch JT anywhere he wanted.
He slid his slick hands up the backs of JT’s thighs, matting the hair there with oil. As he approached the lower curve of JT’s ass, JT arched his back and audibly exhaled, and said, “Misha—”
“Okay,” Misha said, just to say something. He rubbed one hand between JT’s legs, stroking his fingers over JT’s balls and as far up the shaft of JT’s dick as he could get before his fingertips hit the mattress; not very far. JT trimmed up front and waxed or shaved the rest, which Misha had known after the long, detailed look he’d gotten at JT’s dick the day before on the dock, but feeling all that hairless skin put him over the edge from extremely interested to painfully erect.
JT groaned as Misha rubbed along the same path again and again, and then raised his hips enough that Misha could get his hand fully underneath to slide his hand over the full length of JT’s dick. He was hard, and Misha groaned himself as he curled his greasy fingers around the shaft and squeezed. Here they were, and Misha didn’t think JT was going to stop him this time.
JT pressed his hips into Misha’s hand, grinding against his palm, then lifted up again and reached back to tug Misha’s hand away. “You missed a spot.”
“What,” Misha said dumbly, then felt his eyes get big as JT pulled his knees up beneath him, spread wide with his back arched and his ass high. He was hairless there, too, and pink and sweet. Misha had to wonder when he groomed himself so thoroughly and for whose benefit, but god, he enjoyed seeing it. His hand moved without his permission to stroke oil-slick fingers over JT’s exposed hole.
“God, yeah, just like that,” JT said. He slid his knees a little wider as Misha traced a careful circle around his rim. “You’d better, uh. Get it really good.”
“You sore?” Misha teased. “Hurt?” He pressed his thumb there and felt JT flex at the touch, tender and greedy.
“Yeah, really—pulled something, needs a good—oh.” JT turned his head restlessly against the pillow as Misha drizzled some more oil on him and began deliberately massaging his hole and taint, rubbing in gentle circles with the pads of his fingers. JT made a small sound every time Misha’s fingers slid over his hole, and Misha was fully ready to jerk himself off in a heated thirty seconds and call it a day. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so turned on.
He pressed his thumb to JT’s hole again and applied enough pressure for the tip to dip inside, pulling JT ever-so-slightly open. “Can I—”
“Yes, it’s good, put it in me,” JT said, sounding breathless, so Misha pressed until his thumb slid in to the knuckle. JT was so hot and slick inside and Misha’s hands were shaking slightly with terror and lust. He could hardly believe this was happening to him, in his actual life.
“You want,” he began, not sure how he would finish the sentence. “More?”