Though twilight spilled across the sky, there was still enough light to make out the red-gold hair of a startled young man standing deer-still several feet away.
Conor had to blink.
Once, twice, maybe even a couple of times to assure himself that the person he was looking at was even real. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a face so bright with innocence that it was almost enchanting. Conor felt the need—no, the desire—to move closer.
He did so, taking a few steps and summoning a voice he could only hope sounded calm.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Conor’s eyes fell from the loose ringlets of his liquid fire hair to his wide green eyes that put emeralds to shame. “I was just curious to see who was out here.”
“I-I’m sorry,” He said in a voice softer than a swan’s descent into twilit waters. “—if I’m trespassing. I was waiting for someone.”
“Ah, then, you’re familiar with the moorland?” Conor waited for confirmation in the form of a nod before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone and, in the process, unzipped his jacket. Not because Conor needed to, but more for showing off the size of his chest and muscles he was sure the boy wasn’t used to seeing. Not on any man around here.
He caught a glimpse of Cupid's bow lips shyly nibbling on a finger after the boy quickly glanced down to avoid their gazes meeting. And Conor felt a lift in his ego after he caught the boy staring.
Finally, Conor checked his phone but breathed a heavy noise after seeing it dead in his hand.
Fuck. He pocketed it, trying to recall whether or not he charged it last night.
Conor glanced back at the boy. “My phone died, so I can’t show you a picture of him, but I’m looking for my brother. He traveled out here to hunt about two weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to get ahold of him in days. His name is Brennan, he’s got short, dark brown hair like mine, and he’s built like me too.”
And he quickly added, “Not, as built. But close.”
The boy stood and shook his head.
“No, I’m sorry,” He started, his hands molding and twisting together nervously as Conor took the opportunity to move closer. “Honestly…I, well, I only come here to meet someone. I’m familiar with the land, but I don’t normally talk to anyone else.”
Conor only half-minded the boy’s answer as he admired how loose and thin his shirt was. It hung off his shoulder, therefore, drooping forward and revealing glimpses of his coral-tipped nipples to Conor’s wandering eyes. Freckles dusted his nose and scattered along his shoulders like little stars, and Conor felt a rise in his stomach after he imagined stripping the boy naked to find where else they hid.
The boy smiled after, seemingly saying something he found amusing, and Conor’s cock jolted in response.
“This…friend of yours,”—Conor took a look around—“when does he usually meet you?”
“Whenever he wants,” The boy responded.
It was a weird answer but a welcomed one, and all his overthinking about Brennan was suddenly replaced with the desire to feel those pale pink lips around his cock.
“What’s your name?” Conor reached out and touched a lock of the boy’s fox-red hair. “I’m Conor.”
“I’m…Rory…” The boy responded softly.
“If you don’t mind, Rory, maybe I can wait around with you?” Conor smiled and took Rory’s chin in a soft grip—a simple touch that never failed to make a pretty boy melt. “I could ask your friend about my brother, and…it’s too dangerous to leave you out here by yourself.”
He was glad the boy didn’t resist but instead nodded close to Conor’s hand with such a delicate look.
Easy. Conor smirked.
They took a seat together under the nearest tree, and Conor noticed the boy didn’t have shoes on.
“It’s kinda cold to be walking around without a coat or shoes on,” He said, removing his jacket and draping it over the boy’s shoulders.
“I-I didn’t realize,” He responded dreamily, staring at his bare feet before tucking himself into Conor’s jacket. “I must’ve been in a hurry.”
Somewhere, the sound of hooves and sloshing water moved through distant trees in opposite directions.
Conor looked around, but the boy remained seated and still as if he couldn’t hear any of it. The man thought he was going crazy and rubbed his ear until the noises turned into ringing.
Silence followed, and a chill ripped past them, making Conor aware of how cold it was getting. He used that excuse to move closer to the boy, knowing either his friend wasn’t going to show or, if he did, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell he’d be able to size up to Conor.
“Does your friend always keep you waiting?” Conor’s hand slid across the small of Rory’s back, his fingertips tracing dimples and soaking in the warmth of his skin before wrapping around his hip.
“S-Sometimes. So, I…just wait.” The boy smiled at him, and Conor tasted something sour in his mouth.
He ignored it, leaning a kiss away from the boy’s ear, and spoke. “Does he fuck you out here?”
Rory’s eyes widened like perfect cuts of jade. A blush spilled across his chest, and he shivered when Conor’s hand reached further around his waist to tease his stomach. His lips parted, but no words came out, only a soft, uncertain whimper that Conor wanted to drink down.
Brennan might have been wandering the moorland or some other town with a hook-up, so Conor wasn’t going to let his own chance slip away.
He took Rory’s hand and guided it between his legs, where his cock waited hard and ready.
Rory squirmed in his spot, and his hand tensed after Conor began rubbing it against his erection. It was harder than Rory thought, long and thick in the man’s pants, though he resisted the urge to move his fingers and trace the outline of Conor’s shaft.
“I…I shouldn’t.” Again, his voice was soft, one meant for moaning to another man’s cock. “My…friend…”
Despite his hesitation, Conor could feel Rory's fingers admiring the length of his erection.
“Your friend isn’t here.” Conor kept a tight hold on the boy’s hand, yet he reached out with the other and gently guided his pretty face closer. “I am.”
Their kiss was brief, a simple press of their lips. Once. Twice. Conor couldn’t take things as slowly as he wanted, and he pecked Rory’s lips with soft kisses before taking advantage of the breath he took. His tongue found the inside of Rory’s mouth, and their kiss deepened until the boy finally gave in.
Conor pulled Rory onto his lap, positioning him so their groins touched and he could easily slip his hand into the boy’s pants.
“No underwear?” Conor smirked, watching Rory’s shoulders blush as he squeezed the flesh of his ass and exposed his hole to the chill in the air. “You really were in a hurry.”
Rory hid his face in Conor’s shoulder, his nape bright red and his answer muffled. Conor began fingering circles around the boy’s hole, feeling it twitch and tremble under his fingertips. Such soft skin that felt open and ready for his cock.
Conor slowly slipped two fingers into Rory and held him tight as the boy shifted his hips in a cute attempt to wiggle free. He laughed—a low, breathy noise made after realizing Rory had prepped himself well.
“You really wanted to get fucked tonight.” Conor bit Rory’s ear, hard enough to make him squeak. “My fingers are going in so easily.”
Conor was so hard it hurt. Just holding Rory’s small, slender body was making his cock drip. And he couldn’t think of a time he’d felt this turned on. His fingers thrust faster, stirring up the oil or lotion Rory had used to loosen his little hole. Conor soaked in the boy’s scent and listened to the quiet moans he released, bucking his hips a bit in the process. Finally, he opened his eyes and glanced around for an audience, though Conor saw nothing but woods and glimpses of the moorland through the trees.
They were alone. No Brennan. No friend.
For a moment, Conor stared into the trees and saw something looking back at him. He couldn’t focus nor make out what it was. Maybe nothing, just shadows and sky-made eyes forming imaginary monsters.
Then, Conor felt his nose start to bleed. Thick lines ran down his lips, but when he wiped his face—there was no blood.
Rory looked up at him, lips parted, flushed, and ready to be fucked. His eyes turned a hopeful shade then, and he looked around as if he’d see his friend standing behind them.
Conor moved his fingers inside Rory, rubbing and playing with spots he couldn’t ignore.
The boy shivered and let out an unfiltered moan, one that brought a smile to Conor’s face and drove his fingers in deeper.
He wanted the boy’s attention on him, only him.
Conor quickly undid his pants, letting his cock free and stroking it as he leaned in to bite Rory’s nipple. He did so, hard and hungry. His teeth applied pressure, pulling until Rory’s hole tightened around his fingers, and he began sucking. Saliva wetted the boy’s shirt and sealed the thin cotton around his swollen nipple. Rory was moaning, almost crying with anticipation.
Conor removed his fingers and leaned back against the tree.
“Come here,” He said, helping Rory out of his pants and taking hold of his hips. The urge to thrust in and pound the boy’s ass raw was suddenly swept away by the strange look that crossed Rory’s meadow-green eyes as he looked down at Conor’s dick.
He didn’t like that look, and in a bit of spite, Conor pulled Rory closer and spread his ass. The tip of his cock kissed that finger-fucked hole before Conor slammed their hips together with a satisfying thrust.
Rory tossed his head back and gasped, his chest rising and hips twitching. Yet, Conor didn’t give him a moment to mold his shape; instead, the man decided to fuck it into him. And he started moving Rory’s hips in a rhythm that countered his own, assuring his fat cock penetrated places he was confident this friend only dreamed of reaching.
“A-Ah! T-Too fast! You’re going…too—” The boy’s wet words were then shaken into more whimpers after Conor began fucking him harder, bouncing him against his lap until his hips started to sting.
His cries were high and plenty, the sound all pretty boys made when they were being fucked properly by real men.
“That’s right, baby,” Conor smirked, cold air scratching his throat, and he smacked the boy’s ass. “Ride my cock and cum like a good boy.”
Those words made Rory’s insides twitch, as did his nipples, and he held onto Conor’s shoulders as the man drove into him with shaking force. Rory closed his eyes and bit his lip. Cum shot from his cock and made a mess across his face, giving Rory’s delicate lips a bitter taste he licked clean—a surprising gesture that further excited Conor.
The man thrust his hips upward, sending his cock further into Rory’s soft, slick hole. Grass scratched Conor’s bare thighs, and the sounds they made rose above the treeline, pushing him closer to his limit.
“T-Too much!” Rory gasped, his lips dripping and his face flushed. He felt his stomach and reached down to where he felt Conor’s cock hitting most. “A-Ahh! I-It‘s…too much!”
Conor squeezed Rory’s hips, bruising them with a fierce grip and fucking the boy past the clouds of his lingering orgasm. And just as Rory began to leak again, Conor forced his cock as deep as he could and rocked his hips until cum filled the boy’s insides. Even then, he continued thrusting, despite Rory’s tight grip around him. Slow but hard movements to send his cum deeper and make room for more.
Rory was shaking, drooling, and whining as he’d cum again, wetting his shirt more.
Conor kept him from falling back, supporting the boy long enough to place his jacket beneath him. He then laid Rory down and grabbed his legs, pushing them back until there was no way he could hold in the cum that filled him.
The boy bit his finger and shivered as cum poured from his still-twitching hole. Another whimper escaped him, and Conor let out a breathy laugh.
“Fuck.” He smacked his half-hard dick against Rory’s taint and watched his expression soften into a mess. “Don’t get too tired. I’m just getting started.”
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