Lazy Valentines (Lazy Days)

shifted backwards until his back hit the wall with Devon pursuing him every inch of the way. It was like being stalked by a hungry panther, the cat toying with him until there was nothing he could do but let himself be devoured. The very thought made Scott's dick rise beneath the towel and the panther's eyes latched on immediately.
    When Devon covered Scott with his body, a high keening sound drifted between them and Scott wasn't sure whether it came from him or Devon. Sounded like him, though. He was suddenly nervous about what Devon had planned, his brain overruling his cock as it often did during some very unlikely moments.
    He pressed his hands to Devon's chest, feeling the firm muscles quivering under his fingertips and the rapid thumping of his heart matching Scott's. Scott was pretty attached to that heart and the rest of Devon too, but he had couldn't stop the worry that had already planted seeds of panic in his head.
    He tried to fight the panic back with a bit of snark. "So you made plans? Like actual plans? Because you know plans are just like making a list. Why Devon Ducaine, did you actually make a real list?"
    Devon smirked. Then he was kissing Scott thoroughly, and though the exquisite taste of Devon's mouth, his lips, his tongue, distracted Scott's for a minute, the worry just settled back in when they pulled away to breathe. "Do we have a time frame to follow? Shouldn't you get out of those wet pants?"
    "Fuck plans," Devon growled, so close to Scott he felt the vibrations shiver through his own body. "I figured you'd be a little reluctant so I got here early to convince you. And you're right, I can't wait to get my pants off. Wanna help?"
    Scott cleared his throat, flattening his hands over Devon's T-shirt, willing his fingers to not move to the sexy tattoos on Devon's arms. It had been four days since Scott had mapped them, touched them, licked them… focus… panic, remember? . "And um… where exactly would you be convincing me to go?"
    "You don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?"
    "I'm not much for surprises, Dev."
    "Then how about I tell you after you take off my pants and fuck me in the shower?"
    "Jesus." The word was involuntary and barely a whisper but the smug look on Devon's face said he'd heard it loud and clear.
    "Did I mention how much I missed you?"
    Scott felt his guard slip, taking the niggling worry right along with it. He'd missed Devon too, more than he thought was possible or logical. And the poor man had to be suffering with all that stickiness still squishing around against his junk. It would only be polite for Scott to help him, being a good host and all that. And his fingers were really itching to trace over those tattoos he loved so much… so good host it was.
    "You could mention it some more if you like," he said, sliding his hands from Devon's chest, down his flat abs and over the waistband of his pants. His fingers wrestled with the buckle, finally getting it unclasped before thumbing the button on Devon's jeans open. He paused when he'd pulled Devon's zipper part way down. "No underwear, Dev? Really? You're probably chafing the shit out of your privates."
    Devon's eyes were pure black, bottomless lust. "You could rub some lotion on them for me."
    Scott huffed out a chuckle. He shifted his hands to Devon's hips, using his whole body to make him take a step back. "I've got no problem with fu… doing you in the shower but I'm not touching you until you—"
    "Wash off the stickiness?"
    "You know me so well."
    "Better believe it, sweetheart. And love every single part."

Chapter Three
    They were cleaned-up and dressed—redressed in Devon's case—in a reasonable amount of time. Luckily he'd left a pair of jeans and some underwear at Scott's place or he would have been walking around sticky all day. Going home to change was definitely not in the plan. He even managed to laugh off Scott's lecture about his lack of underwear under his jeans. Damn, the inside of those suckers was a freaking, disgusting mess and Scott was absolutely right about the chafing. Devon was lucky he hadn't ended up with some kind of rug-denim-burn from the harshness of the material and zipper. Of course getting hard again when he was still gummed-up hadn't helped the situation. Sometimes commando sounded sexier than it really was. Bearing this in mind, he'd chosen the underwear option for the rest of the day.
    Devon gathered his boots and coat again while Scott slipped on his shoes beside him. He