Running Wild

unbuttoning his jeans, unzipping them.
It was almost unbearable, exquisite. Ri had enough experience to understand he responded too strongly to touch, and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his body under some kind of control.
“Ri,” Seamus said in that same seductive voice, so close to his ear that his warm breath felt like a touch. Ri panted small breaths, trying not to betray the pleasurable agony he was in. “I’m going to take hold of your dick.” As Seamus’s hand slid down, he could only nod.
When that warm, calloused palm wrapped around his length, an awful sound emerged from Ri’s throat, part-whimper, part-groan, and Seamus stilled.
“Please,” Ri pleaded.
“I’m here,” Seamus responded. “Right here.” He stroked Ri once, and it felt like the top of his head was coming off.
Ri gave in, heaving breaths instead of trying to contain them. “Oh my God, I just…I just…”
“Okay,” said Seamus, but Ri could barely hear him as that hand stroked him up and down again. Dammit, he was going to come in two seconds, and he didn’t know how to stop himself.
“Seamus,” he begged, though for what he didn’t know. The sensation came from deep within, and he wanted to block it in order to keep Seamus’s hands on him. He wanted to tell Seamus to stop, and yet that was beyond him.
Seamus let go of Ri’s dick and cupped his balls, holding them for a moment until Ri stopped juddering from the new sensation. “Still good?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought,” Seamus said with some satisfaction. He stroked the skin behind Ri’s balls, and Ri was back to not thinking. “Just let go, Ri. That’s all I want. Can you do that for me?”
With those words of permission, Ri came undone, lost track of what was happening as Seamus’s skilled hands played his body exquisitely. Time stilled and held, slid sideways and came back—he couldn’t track anything until he was shouting at the first spurt, his back arching, eyes closing as lights danced across his lids. It went on forever, because Seamus didn’t let go. He kept a slow pumping across Ri’s oversensitive head, and by the time it did end, Ri would have collapsed, except Seamus had brought both arms around him. Ri’s head rested on Seamus’s shoulder, and he suddenly wanted to hide, instead of being laid out like this on Seamus’s couch in all his glory.
If his bones weren’t melting, he might have stiffened up.
Seamus, however, didn’t seem aware of Ri’s embarrassment. He kissed Ri’s cheek, his jaw, his temple, the stubble a slight graze, and the gesture soothed Ri. He could only close his eyes. It was too much. That he hadn’t really slept last night didn’t help matters. Exhaustion, and the aftereffects of touch and sex—for that was sex to Ri even if it wasn’t to Seamus—were pulling him under.
He was aware of Seamus throwing a blanket over him before he gave way to sleep.
    In the darkness, Ri bolted to standing—and almost tripped over his jeans that were somehow around his ankles. He froze before he made a noise, then very slowly crouched down. The alien place coalesced into something familiar as a scent, Seamus’s scent, reminded him of where he was and what he was doing.
    He rose, buttoning his jeans and trying to figure out what his next move should be. It was always so hard to relax as human, and sleeping in another person’s place felt bizarre. The sex—hand job, he reminded himself—had completely knocked him out.
    He could trust Seamus, already had. It was that boyfriend Pete and the entourage that Ri wasn’t sure about. They weren’t on the same level as the psychopathic wolves of Ri’s past, the ones who had driven Zach away, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea to be in any way dependent on their good intentions.
    He walked into Seamus’s bedroom—the door had been left open—to see the time and was astounded that he’d slept four hours. He never slept that long.
As he stared down at Seamus’s sleeping form, a longing rose up in him for something that could never be his. Not just Seamus, but his warmth, his steadiness, his kindness.
This was a stopover, Ri knew that. He was difficult, too weird. The handful of attempts at any kind of relationship had been aborted early on by alarmed men who didn’t know how to deal with Ri’s unsteadiness.
“Ri.”
Ri jumped back and Seamus sighed.
“I told you not to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Stare at me while I’m sleeping.”
The heat crept