Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

listen,” he told Zane in a tight voice as he began to rock into him.
    "Fuck,” Zane breathed. “You think I can pay attention to anything but you?” He struggled to focus on Ty moving inside him; he'd been missing this for four months and now that he had it? He wasn't going to miss it anymore. “Come on, fuck me,” he growled, fingers digging into Ty's shoulders.
    Ty obliged with a little growl, one hand going back to Zane's hair to hold him in place as he began to truly thrust into him. The bed rocked with their movements, the headboard groaning in time, and in the distance an angry female voice shouted into an answering machine. But Zane's ears were filled with the sound of his own heartbeat and Ty's panting gasps. He cried out Ty's name as he started to rock against him, intensifying the effect of the thrusts. He snaked his hand back between them to pump his cock, and the shock waves multiplied.
    "Fuck, yes,” Ty hissed as he buried his face in Zane's neck and used the muscles of his back and legs to thrust.
    The motions made Zane arch his body, the slow, almost languid rocking driving him even more insane than any amount of frenzied pounding could have done. Under it all, he could hear the girl's voice, but he couldn't think about that right then. This felt too damn incredible to focus on anything else.
    A low groan built in Zane's chest as he pulled at his cock, Ty's slow, rhythmic movement building the fire higher but not providing quite enough spark. “Ty ... for God's sake ... have I got to beg?” Zane asked helplessly, pulling his knees up to try to get Ty to move faster, thrust harder.
    Ty didn't answer him, instead speeding the rhythm of his thrusts with a grunt of effort.
    Zane gasped out encouragement, throwing his head back as he felt the orgasm clenching inside him. He tightened his fist on himself. “Not long...” he ground out.
    "Come on, Garrett,” Ty coaxed in a low, rumbling voice. “Come all over me,” he whispered against Zane's skin.
    Zane's body started to tighten up, and his hand moved faster on himself. “Ty...” he hissed. And with another few thrusts, he jerked in place and yelled as he came, the hot liquid smearing between them with each pulse as he cried out each time, nearly delirious with pleasure.
    Ty closed his eyes and groaned, thrusting harder and grunting with each push of his hips. “One day,” he ground out with difficulty, “I'm just going to sit in a corner and watch you jerk off,” he promised as his belly rubbed against Zane's slick knuckles. Just the thought was enough to send him over the edge, and he tried to slow his movements to stave off the orgasm. But the friction from the slow rocking was still too much, and he came with a shout that was loud enough to drown out the final beep of the answering machine.
    Zane's gut jerked again in reaction to Ty's words. Fuck, Zane would love that, to feel Ty's eyes on him. He moaned Ty's name long and low. Ty rocked through the torturous friction and finally collapsed with a small gasp, panting. The cell phone on the end of the bed began to vibrate and sing, dancing itself to the edge of the bed and then falling to the floor with a clatter.
    Ty pushed up shakily and kissed Zane breathlessly, pulling out of him carefully and groaning as he did so. Zane clutched at him mindlessly, trying to pull him close again, but Ty rolled onto his side instead, pulling Zane with him. He kissed Zane one more time, almost gently, and then flopped onto his back. The phone ceased its singing somewhere on the floor at the end of the bed, and Ty sighed loudly and closed his eyes in relief.
    "I was with her night before last,” he admitted in a low, breathless voice.
    Sighing softly, Zane shifted to lie against Ty's side, settling his cheek on his upper arm. He thought idly about how much more cut Ty seemed to be now. He didn't look different, but he felt harder somehow. Perhaps Zane had just been too caught up before to notice the changes. He could imagine that Ty had had very little to occupy himself with other than physical endeavors, though. He remembered well what it was like on medical leave, under orders not to do anything mentally “strenuous.” The only thing left to someone as active as Ty was physical.
    "Hope it was better than what I did that night,” Zane murmured absently, his mind turning to the gunshot wound that now throbbed angrily.
    Ty turned his head slightly and rested his chin against Zane's head as he