Page 62 of True North
But Misha had already left the kitchen, and JT didn’t follow him. Let him go roam around in the woods for a while. Maybe that would fix his bad mood.
Twenty-Four
Misha walked out of JT’s driveway and along the road without any clear idea of where he was going. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He was feeling too many things to identify any of them, and they were all bad. He wanted to be somewhere else.
He cut through the brush on the other side of the road and walked into the woods, looking for a place he could stash his things. Twigs scratched his bare arms. The forest wasn’t a welcoming place to a soft-skinned human. He found a fallen tree and wrapped his phone and wallet in his clothes and tucked the bundle beneath the roots, where it would be sheltered from any rain. Then he shifted and headed off at a quick lope.
JT was right: Misha should have stayed in the woods.
He kept going until his thoughts were more of a bear’s thoughts than a human’s. The trees smelled like sap and mature leaves. The wind toyed with his fur, and his paws crunched over pinecones half-buried in the leaf litter. He turned over a rotting log and ate some grubs. The sun sank below the tops of the trees. The birds began their evening commotion, looking for a last meal before nightfall. Misha turned at last and headed back toward the house.
He went directly there without stopping to get his clothes and shifted forms on the deck. Lights were on in the house, so presumably JT was home.
Misha realized, belatedly, that he was supposed to be at work right now.
He walked naked through the kitchen, still filled with the odor of the stew JT had made for dinner. The sound of the TV drew Misha into the living room, where JT was lying on the couch, staring at the screen with his eyebrows drawn together. He glanced over as Misha came into the room and his expression brightened.
“Hey,” JT said. “You’re home.”
Misha crossed the room and draped himself on top of JT on the couch and kissed him, one hand sunk into JT’s curls to hold him in place. JT made a surprised noise but opened his mouth for Misha’s tongue, obedient in a way that made Misha’s blood heat. JT’s hands settled at Misha’s hips, holding him politely as he lay there and let Misha kiss him hard and deep.
“Where are your clothes?” JT asked when Misha drew back.
“Where’s your dick,” Misha replied, tugging at the waistband of JT’s shorts. His hands felt clumsy after so many hours as paws, and he gave up when he encountered boxer briefs instead of bare skin. His own dick was hardening rapidly. He lay down on top of JT again and rocked their hips together, groaning at the pressure on his erection. He was surprised by how urgent he felt. He wanted JT very badly.
JT let Misha kiss him and grope him for a few minutes, but then he started trying to put the brakes on, turning his head to the side and rubbing Misha’s back in gentle, soothing circles. “You want to watch a movie?”
Misha didn’t want gentle or soothing, and he definitely didn’t want to watch a movie. He wanted to fuck. He kissed JT’s neck with a wet, open mouth, scraping with his teeth until JT hissed. JT felt so good beneath him, warm and willing, his arms wrapping around Misha’s back as he realized Misha wasn’t going to be distracted from his goal. Misha had thought about him every night that he was in jail, lying in his hard bunk and imagining the warmth of JT’s body, the quiet sounds JT made in his sleep as he lay beside Misha. He needed to soak in the feeling of JT’s skin against his own and store it up for all the lonely years ahead of him.
He sat up and started pulling at JT’s shirt, trying to get it over his head whether JT helped him or not. “Hang on—jeez,” JT said, and did an awkward wriggle to get his arms out of the sleeves while he was still lying down. “You’re really—okay. This is happening right now, eh?”
“Yeah,” Misha said. His dick throbbed between his legs. JT looked so good, with his pink nipples and his big shoulders and the little tuft of curly hair right in the center of his chest. Misha wanted to come on him, all over him, to coat JT in his scent and mark him. Anyone with a nose would be able to tell JT belonged to him.
He tugged at JT’s shorts again. This time JT helped, and together they worked his shorts and boxer briefs down far enough to expose his dick. He was fully hard and so fat and pink that Misha’s mouth watered. Misha wasn’t any good at sucking dick, but JT had been nothing but patient and undemanding every time Misha tried. He thought for a moment about trying again, but he felt too impatient for that right now. He needed to get off.
He lay down on top of JT again and sucked air through his teeth at the sensation of JT’s dick rubbing against his own and their bare chests pressed together. JT’s skin was warm and smooth and there was so much of him. His strong arms held Misha tight. Misha tucked his face against JT”s neck and just lay there for a minute, feeling JT’s heartbeat, smelling him, trying to memorize what it felt like to be held so close and safe in his arms.
“Misha,” JT murmured, and Misha tried to memorize that, too: the sound of his name spoken with care.
JT’s hands slid down Misha’s back to his ass and dipped into the cleft, fingertips barely teasing at his hole. A hot wave of arousal rolled through him. He braced his hands on the couch cushions and started to move, rubbing his hips against JT’s. It would be better and easier with lube, but Misha wasn’t going to stop and go look for some, not when it already felt so good.
JT planted his feet on the couch and rolled his hips in time with Misha’s thrusts. They got a good rhythm going, slow and dirty, rubbing off on each other’s bellies. Pre-come and sweat eased the way as they kept going. Misha kissed JT until he couldn’t focus on kissing anymore and they only panted into each other’s mouths. Hot blood pulsed through Misha’s temples and the soles of his feet. He was desperate to come, and even more desperate to make JT come, to feel JT tremble beneath him and hear him moan.
“I missed you,” JT whispered to him. “Misha, stay with me.”
Misha groaned and kissed him hard for just a moment before their increasingly urgent movements jarred their mouths apart again. His heart ached inside his chest. He didn’t want to think about anything or feel anything beyond the rising tension in his pelvis, his balls tightening as the friction between their bodies threatened to spark into flame.
JT’s hands gripped Misha’s ass, urging him into a slightly faster rhythm. Misha could feel his orgasm coming before it hit, a few seconds of teetering right on the spine-tingling, toe-curling edge before he shuddered and spilled messily between their bodies.
“Oh, god,” JT croaked, still moving as Misha slowed.
“Shh, I know,” Misha said. He lifted up to watch the last of his come dribble from the head of his dick and pool on JT’s stomach. The sight of it squeezed another weak pulse from his balls. JT was a mess, his dick gleaming with Misha’s come, his belly slick with come and sweat. Their mingled scents rose from his skin and filled Misha’s nose, intoxicating.
“I need, uh,” JT said, reaching down to touch himself. The wet head of his cock peeked between his fingers, red and straining.
Misha slid to the floor and knelt beside the couch on rubbery knees. He pressed his face to the base of JT’s dick, breathing in the musky scent of his arousal. Even though he had come already, he was still all worked up, and he mouthed clumsily at JT’s balls and shaft and the head of his cock, tasting his own spend, his scalp tingling as JT put a hand on the back of his head, a gentle touch, his fingertips stirring Misha’s hair.
“You’re perfect,” JT breathed. “Oh, Misha,” and Misha closed his eyes and sucked the head of JT’s dick into his mouth and swallowed everything when JT came in a rush across his tongue.