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Insensiblement

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"You're late."

Eric shrugged, and took the only empty seat at the bar counter, beside Mike. "Sorry, you know how the traffic on Gretzky gets on Friday night."

"I thought the traffic here was nothing compared to New York. Getting soft, are we?" Mike teased lightly, nudging him with his shoulder. He just rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. Mike was already answering one of Janne's questions.

He ordered a scotch on the rocks, and let the conversation swirl around him, not really interested in joining in. It was just as enjoyable for him to relax and listen.

The drink arrived and he took a sip, wincing at the almost harsh taste, but swallowed it anyway. Well, so much for that idea.

"Its not that good, is it?" Mike asked, nudging him again. "Glenlevit, Ill bet, overpriced and really not worth it."

"You're a scotch fan?" For some reason, hed seen Comrie as the whisky type.

"Yeah." There was a short pause before he went on. "Hey, I have a bottle at home, been waiting for the right person to crack it open with. You interested?" There was something strange in his proposal, but Eric didn't really feel like mulling it over.

"Sure, why not."

~

The rain had begun to fall harder when they made it to Mike's, tapping a soft staccato on the windows as the Mike shut the door behind them. He shrugged off his coat, and let the shorter man take it, stepping into the softly lit living room.

"Make yourself at home," Mike told him before disappearing into the kitchen, presumably to get the drinks. Eric sat on the larger of the two couches, sinking into the soft cushions. It was a nice place, with understated colours and muted lighting, all expensive looking. He wondered how much of this Mike had actually paid for.

Mike came out with two glasses, an ice bucket, and a bottle of scotch. It looked expensive, and about three times as old as he was- knowing how much money his family has, it probably was.

The ice cubes were dropped in first, then the drinks poured, every moment graceful but not showy. He'd never noticed the ingrained grace in the way Mike moved, almost like he was a dancer.

He was handed one of the drinks, and took a small sip, taking a minute to let the scotch just sit on his tongue, savouring the mellow taste before letting it burn a trail down his throat, warming him from the inside. "Good, isn't it?" Mike asked, with an appreciative smile. Eric nodded, smiling back.

Mike twirled the ice cubes with his finger, as if he was deep in thought, and then licked the alcohol off it with the tip of his tongue, making the pieces all fall in place.

Oh.

The scotch was smooth and hot, the rain was pattering, and the lights were low. Well he'd be damned if Mike didnt have the right ambiance going. Not that he would be totally adverse to the idea anyway, but it somehow seemed so easy at the moment.

Easy, indeed.

Mike took a sip, eyes locking onto Eric's, a knowing sparkle dancing in them. He let his eyelids flutter closed as he swallowed, and for some reason Eric found himself resisting the urge to lean forward and lick the slightly exposed throat.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had, since Mike leaned forward the next second to kiss him.

He tasted like scotch and a slight trace of smoke and sin, and Eric found himself returning the kiss hungrily. He felt Mike smile against him before the drink was plucked from his hand and moved to the coffee table, and leaned back, giving into the slight pressure against him until he was lying flat on the couch, straddled by Mike.

"You sure about this?" Mike asked, fingers hesitating at the buttons of his shirt.

"Don't stop," Eric breathed in return, arching into the sudden pressure against his groin as Mike settled himself.

"Alright then." Fingers worked deftly on his buttons, trailing patterns on his skin as they moved downward, until the shirt was pushed apart, but not off. His tongue flicked across a nipple, eliciting a loud moan. "You like that?" Eric nodded, unable to talk. "Good."

The shirt slid off his shoulders and he raised his arms over his head to help Mike remove it, but blinked in surprise as the material caught around his wrists, and the feral grin from Mike.

"Thats tempting you know, to just keep you tied up like this," he breathed, leaning forward to nibble on Eric's ear, breath hot on his neck. "But I want you to enjoy this fully." The shirt slipped the rest of the way off, and he made use of his newly regained freedom of movement to pull Mike down for a searing kiss that left him slightly dazed.

Mike lifted up slightly, manipulating both of them until Eric's head was supported slightly by the armrest, and leaned over to grab a glass, holding it to his mouth. It was hard, but he managed to take a sip without spilling it. Mike grinned and fished for one of the ice cubes, putting one between his teeth before lowering his mouth to Eric's chest.

Eric cried out at the first touch of the ice, swirling slowly around his nipple. Mike laughed softly, a low, hoarse sound that sent chills up his spine and his blood south for the winter. He barely noticed his zipper coming undone, or his pants sliding off as the ice cube moved lower, dipping into his navel. He did notice when Mike pulled down his pants, taking the ice cube out of his mouth to lick his cock, slowly, languorously.

Mike pulled away, shifting to get something out of the cushions of the couch. Through the haze in his mind, Eric wondered why the lube was so handy and how often he did this, and how the hell he had gotten naked so quickly, but then his cock was engulfed in wet, hot heat, and he decided he really didn't care.

He threw his head back, hands clenching in the soft material as he tried to keep his control; Mike was definetly an expert at this, swallowing him with ease.  Suddenly the cold air hit his skin and he looked up, trying to concentrate, focus his vision, and almost came at the sight.  Mike was preparing himself, fingers sliding in and out slowly, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.  Warm eyes snapped up to meet his, and he grinned knowingly.

"Want me to keep sucking you?" He asked, and Eric shook his head. That would be incredible, but no. He earned another grin, and followed Mike's urgings to sit up further, sharing another scotch-flavoured kiss.

Eventually, Mike was straddling his lap, and he sucked on the neck arched in front of him, biting softly, and couldnt help smiling as Mike jumped slightly. He felt the lube being spread over his cock, and then raised himself, sliding down onto Eric's cock slowly, head rolling back.

He groaned, holding himself steady as he adjusted, then pulled himself up and slid back down, quicker this time. The strokes smoothed out and lengthened, Eric tilted his hips up lightly, enjoying the soft scream as he did. He noticed Mike reach around to grab himself, and batted the hand away, replacing it with his own, stroking in the same rhythm that he was being fucked.

Mike was breathing deeper, mouth opened in a silent plea, deliciously wanton as he rode Eric, the pressure building, until he came, spilling over both their stomachs. Eric followed several thrusts later, stifling a scream in Mike's shoulder.

Eric was still trying to regain his thought processes when Mike shifted, letting Eric's cock slip out of him audibly. "Well," he said, reaching for the scotch, "that was interesting."

"Hunh, if that's your idea of interesting..." Eric muttered, taking the proffered glass and almost gulping it, trying to figure out exactly where his brain had decided to short out.

"You want to find out?" Mike asked, bending his head to nip at Eric's collarbone. He considered it for several seconds before handing the drink back, grabbing Mike and pulling him in for a kiss. "I'll take that as a yes then..."