Distance, Part Thirteen A

[pinkdoom]

Original post was too large for LJ, so I had to break it up into two pieces. :)

Title: Distance, Part Thirteen A
Author: pinkdoom
Summary: Sometimes it takes a little distance to understand how precious what you have truly is
Rating NC-17 for this part
Word Count: 10,551
Disclaimer: Not mine!! All is property of Jim Butcher, this is for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: h/c; sexual tension and frustration; corporeal Bob, no explanation...and most importantly, 32 pages of smut
Beta'd by: edana_ni_emer and moonchildetoo
Author's Note: I'm far from an expert on Plato's Symposium, but I did attend a lecture at my college on the work, and the professor giving the lecture is a well-known Plato scholar, so I assume he knew what he was talking about. :) But if someone knows better and I got it wrong, do let me know. I'd hate to think Plato was rolling in his grave because some fangirl used his piece wrongly in fan fic LOL ;)

Previous parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Three and a Half by weslyn, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve



By the time Friday rolled around, I was up and moving and still feeling better. Not a hundred percent, but I rationalized that by reminding myself that I was rarely ever at a hundred percent, seeing as how barely a day goes by when I'm not stressed out or getting the snot beat out of me. I have a habit of falling into trouble.

Bob and I had spent the last few days cleaning up around the office...and the apartment. Every room in the apartment. Bathroom, bedroom, living room, kitchen...by the time we were done, late Friday night, I was most definitely tired of scrubbing and wiping and dusting.

Bob, however, had enjoyed every minute of it. I knew he was anal about cleaning up, but hell's bells. He was crazy. Every single nook and cranny and little spot that dust could hide in, he found.

"I'm done, Bob," I said as I sank onto the couch and tossed my rag aside. "No more. We've cleaned everything but the trash cans in the alley."

"I'm sure the sanitation workers would appreciate it..." Bob's voice trailed off when he saw the murderous look on my face. "Or, perhaps not."

I reached to the side with a grunt of pain, my shoulders burning from all the work we'd done, and grabbed the phone. "I'm starved, and you should be too. Thai, Chinese, or pizza?"

Bob gave me a thoughtful look as he tossed his rag onto the small pile in the corner. "How about the little Italian place down the street? They deliver."

"Good idea." I dialed Frenzo's Little Italy and ordered our regular meal: one family-sized spaghetti with meat sauce, one order of their crusty bread, and one large salad. The young woman who took my order told me it'd be fifteen minutes and that they'd ring the doorbell. I chuckled and told her thanks.

Apparently, the delivery boy remembered Wednesday night and barging in on Bob pressed between me and the wall, my hand down his pants. Whoops.

Bob was grinning at me when I got off the phone. "What?"

"Same delivery boy as Wednesday?"

"Kid's probably going to try to bill us for his therapy sessions for the next ten years," I grumbled good naturedly.

Bob settled on the couch beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "It'd be good for the karma," he whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek.

"Yeah, uh huh." Bob's fingers pressed into the back of my neck, kneading the muscle gently. I hummed appreciatively and leaned into his touch. "We only have fifteen minutes, Bob."

"That's an approximation," he growled softly in my ear. "If that boy comes in exactly fifteen minutes, I'll eat my nonexistent hat."

I laughed. "You'd look good in a hat."

He scoffed. "I use to wear hats, a very long time ago. Of course, I had much more hair--"

"Don't tell me you had a ponytail back in the day?" I was grinning widely at the thought of Bob sporting a ponytail, but not wanting to push him too far down a road to memory lane.

Bob shrugged easily. "Most men did then, Harry. The ones that got to be old enough to grow that length of hair, anyways."

"Really?" I ran my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe you should grow it out again." I let my hand meander down his neck, then down his chest. "It'd give me more to pull on."

Bob bit his bottom lip and his body twisted a little as my hand moved down even further and brushed his groin. His head fell back and he relaxed into the couch as I crawled over him, the heel of my hand rubbing mercilessly on the hardening erection beneath his slacks. I tucked my head under his jaw and licked his neck, suckling his warm skin.

He moaned quietly and arched his back, those strong arms lacing around my waist and pulling me down. I wound up straddling him, pressing him into the couch as far as he would go. "Harry, I won't hurt you," he panted.

I brought my head up and looked down at him, unable to keep a big smile off my face. "All better," I said, pulling up the hem of my shirt and showing him my nearly-healed bruises. I'd taken the last of the bandages off this morning, and thanks to Bob's attentiveness and a little magical healing he didn't know about, I was almost bruise and wound free. My ribs had mended, faster than they would have on any normal human being, but I've always healed quickly. Benefit to having wizard blood, I guess. But I also had to figure in that the power of the mind is a wondrous thing. I strongly believed that if I had been trying to heal and Bob and I had still been fighting, or if I'd known he was going to leave once I was well enough to fend for myself....I'd still be pretty much confined to my bed, not straddling Bob on the couch in the living room.

Bob ran his fingertips over my ribs, tracing invisible lines where my wounds had been. I shivered under that gentle touch, unable to help the way my hips reacted to the way he was looking at me.

We'd agreed on no strenuous physical activity until I was better.

No heavy lifting.

No clearing off those top shelves in the lab.

No serious spellwork.

No taking a ride on the metal rail to descend the stairs from the loft. But I'd protested that one, saying that I wasn't a kid and didn't do that anyways. Bob had countered by saying that he'd seen me do it at least a dozen times, a few of those when I was maybe just slightly intoxicated. I'm a cheap drunk, what can I say.

And, no making love, no matter how slow we took it. I was more than ready to break that particular "no" rule wide open.

"Remember us agreeing on not doing certain things until I was healed?" I whispered in his ear. He nodded and swallowed thickly, his hands roaming my back. "I think I'm ready to test my endurance, Bob."

Bob gave a low, almost feral growl, and I found myself pinned to the couch, his hands everywhere. His mouth crushed mine in a brutal kiss and I grabbed the back of his head with one hand while my other hand cupped his ass. He ground into me, pushing me down until I heard the couch protest our combined weight.

His mouth was working its way down my neck when the doorbell rang. It was like some scene out of a movie, the one where the lovers are interrupted by someone at the door.

"Fuck," I said, gasping for air.

"Dinner's here," Bob said in an amused tone.

I tugged his head back down. "Fuck 'em, let them wait."

Bob chuckled and reluctantly pushed up off me. "We agreed on slow and easy, Harry. If that's to be tonight, then I certainly don't expect that poor boy outside the door to wait two hours, do you?"

I reluctantly hauled myself up off the couch and grabbed my wallet. Bob went to open the door but stopped, hand on the doorknob, when I said pointedly, "Uh, Bob, might want to throw a coat on or something...a long one." A swift look down told Bob that I wasn't referring to his wrinkled shirt and disheveled hair.

With a smile, Bob tugged on his long trench coat that we'd bought the other day and opened the door. The delivery boy, a gawky teenager with a permanent wide-eyed expression, smiled nervously when he saw Bob at the door. "It's $23.50, sir."

I handed Bob the money, telling the boy to keep the rest, and he pretty much shoved our food at us and took off down the street rather quickly. "I think we frightened him," Bob said with a laugh.

"He'll live," I said as I rooted through the bags. "I'm sure we're not the worst thing he's ever walked in on."

Bob laughed at that, shrugged out of his coat, and came over to me, taking the plastic container with the salad from me. "Might as well just bring all this into the kitchen," he said over his shoulder. "I don't think eating spaghetti on the couch is such a good idea."

I lifted my head out of the bag and felt the rumbling of my stomach barely overtake the ache in my groin. Food, then sex. Must get priorities straight.

We unloaded the bags and set the food out on the table, then I told Bob to sit down while I got him a glass of water and me a beer. When I handed him his glass, Bob wrapped his hand around mine and gently pulled me down to my knees, setting aside the glass so that it wouldn't spill. "Thank you, Harry," he said softly before he pressed a kiss to my lips.

I tilted my head up and deepened the kiss only briefly. When I pulled back, Bob was smiling. He reached down and ran his fingers through my hair. The look in his eyes--a soft warmth that wrapped itself around me--made me stay on my knees, unable to move.

"Harry?"

I closed my eyes in bliss as the back of his hand ran over my cheek. "Yeah?"

"We better eat. I've got other plans for tonight that don't involve lingering for two hours over dinner."

I opened my eyes and saw a crooked grin on his face. "Fiend."

He kissed the palm of my hand before letting me get to my feet and sit down. "I'm always thinking, Harry. Never forget that."

I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. "Oh, I won't." The gleam in his eyes told me exactly what he was thinking about. And even if I hadn't caught that, the charge coming off of him was enough to make all the little hairs on my arms stand on end. There was always energy coming off of him, off the both of us, all the time, but this was different. This wasn't the throbbing, pulsing wave of lust; this was a whisper of a caress, his sexual frustration and the sensual tension between us streaming off of him in this lover's touch.

I shivered slightly before taking a bite of spaghetti. Bob noticed that and chuckled. "Something wrong?"

"Nope."

He laughed again. "Could have fooled me."

We ate for a few minutes in silence, not wanting to shovel food in our mouths but also not wanting to let the food get cold. Normal, everyday stuff. Us eating at the kitchen table together, us just being together. That was the beauty of this whole thing. After all we'd been through, we were here. That was the only thing that mattered.

I looked up and saw him watching me. "What's up?"

He shrugged easily, taking a drink of water before answering. "I just like watching you, that's all." I grinned at him and reached for my beer, but his foot brushing my calf made me stop mid-grab. "I like watching you do all kinds of things, Harry."

"Like watching me react to you playing footsie with me under the table?" I asked teasingly, letting my voice drop just a little.

Bob's hand crept across the table. When his fingers reached me, he ran them over my forearm. Those clever green eyes were locked onto my lips, his stare so heated I thought I was melting into my seat. And I also thought about saying to hell with the dinner and to hell with whatever mess we'd make. I wanted to drag him across the table and devour him.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Bob's voice was a rumbling purr and it sent tremors through me. His fingers gripped my wrist and pulled, just a little, on my arm. "Tell me."

I swallowed hard and let my gaze wander over his face as I said, "I'm thinking about---"

I felt his foot slid up my leg a little, his toes digging into my calf. "Come on, Harry," Bob prodded gently, his voice still a purr, but it had softened around the edges a little. "Don't be shy or embarrassed about what you're thinking." He leaned over the table, his eyes boring into mine. "Tell me what you're thinking about, what you're wanting to do." He cocked an eyebrow, a grin sliding over his face. "Or, is it what you're wanting done to you?"

My breathing hitched and I felt a flush come over my face, my body heating in reaction to the embarrassment I was feeling and the arousal that was racking my nerves at the same time. "Fuck," I croaked.

Those same fingers that were latched onto my arm dug into the skin, making me clench my jaw. "Come on, Harry. Your little expletive aside, I know that's not the only thing you're thinking." He stood quickly and towered over me, both hands flat on the table, his eyes burning hotly. "Tell me," he prodded, his voice dropping a notch or ten.

I stood as well, staring at him. The commanding authority in his tone made me weak in the knees, but the way his body was tightening in arousal made me want to tell him precisely what I was thinking. "I want you," I whispered hoarsely, loving the way his face twisted in pleasure. "Now, right fucking now, I want you on me." I watched him push back his chair none too gently and come around the table to me. His arms were at his sides and there was nothing impatient or anxious about the way he walked those few feet to me, but I could feel how turned on he was. A cocktail rush of adrenaline and lust hit me square in the chest and traveled south, making my eyes cross.

"Talk to me, Harry."

He was inches from me, those hands that I'd been wanting on me for so long trailing up and down my arms. I swallowed hard one more time and said in as steady a voice as I could manage, "I want you, Bob. Now, always..." His eyes started to darken and his lips parted slightly, like he was trying to breathe in my words, but I kept going. To hell with propriety and civility and all that other shit everyone talks about. I wanted this man to make love to me every way he knew how and keep me saying his name long after the pleasure wore off.

I put my hands on either side of his face and said quietly, "I want you to make love to me, I want you to touch me with those hands and use that mouth of yours on me. I want to feel your fingers dig into my skin, feel your sweat on me, hear you moan while you're driving into me and I'm so fucking incoherent that I can only say your name. I want you to mark me, tell the whole fucking world who I belong to..." My words came out in a tumble of sounds that didn't sound like much to me, but they sure as hell affected Bob.

He grabbed the back of my head and breathed out, "Harry," before crushing my mouth to his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, letting my tongue battle with his. Bob grunted and thrust his hips against mine, making me hold him that much tighter to me. The sweet, throbbing, building pressure in my groin was quickly becoming painful, but I couldn't let him go. Wouldn't let him go.

His needy mouth left mine and his lips skimmed over my jaw, nipping at the skin. I flattened one hand on his shoulder blade and dug the fingers of my other hand into his hair, loving how every inch of him that could possibly be pushed up against me was. I felt gentle fingers drag over my lips and I tipped my head back to let his mouth wander over my neck. A hand pressed into the small of my back and pushed my hips against his.

"What about me?" he whispered in my ear.

I was slightly distracted by the way his teeth were tugging on my earlobe, so it took me a moment to unscramble my thoughts. "What about you what?"

"Will you--" and he kissed my neck a few times, the last one with a bit of tongue and teeth, and then finished with, "mark me?"

I pulled back and refocused my eyes on his face. "I will do anything you want me to," I said in a voice loud enough to make sure he wasn't missing a single word. "Anything you want."

A slow, lazy grin spread over his face and his green eyes lit up. "I'm not so hungry anymore," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over my lips. "I want to go upstairs, and I want you to mark me." A deep breath, and then he said, "Make me yours, Harry."

I looked him over; the flush that was settling into his cheeks, the bottomless eyes, the slightly ragged breathing. I'd never wanted anything more in my life than him, right now.

"Let's go," I said, tugging on his arm a little too anxiously. He laughed easily and followed me out of the kitchen, on my heels the whole way through the apartment and up the stairs. About halfway up the stairs, a firm hand smacked my ass. I whirled around and saw him leering at me. "Got an ass fetish?"

"For yours," he purred. He tried to swat at me again but I caught his arm and laughing, hauled him up the stairs. We stumbled and tried to get around each other once we hit the landing, but our hands and mouths seemed to disobey us because they were pulling and tugging at clothing and kissing every inch of skin that was available to us.

I got a little frustrated trying to undo the buttons on his shirt and muttered, "Stupid buttons, can't get these damn things undone."

Bob grabbed my hands in his and put them on his face. "How about we start slow, hmm?" He flicked a hand toward the candles on the far wall and they instantly flared to life, casting the whole room in a soft golden glow.

I traced circles with my thumbs on his cheeks, letting the warmth of his skin soak into my fingertips. "Yeah, okay," I murmured, watching his eyes close in pleasure. That little bit of contact made me want more, so I ran my fingers over his face, tracing his eyebrows, nose, and jaw. I stopped only when I touched his lips, letting my fingers linger there. He parted his mouth willingly and I rubbed his bottom lip between my thumb and index finger. Bob hummed low in his throat and I felt his arms hook around my waist. The press of his groin against mine made me groan and my eyes fluttered shut for just the briefest of moments.

Bob used that split second when my eyes were closed to brush his lips over mine. I kept my eyes shut and kissed him back, taking my sweet time in tasting him, letting the warm rush of it envelop me. Gods, this was where I was supposed to be.

When we let go of each other enough to grin like idiots, Bob leaned into me and put his head on my shoulder, his body warm enough for the both of us. I pressed my face into his hair and inhaled, smelling the wood polish he'd used earlier on...well, everything that was wood in the apartment, and that bit of spice that was Bob. I'd never find an actual word to describe it completely, but the closest I could come was that he smelled like rich earth and sandalwood. Something innately, intermittently connected to the Earth, to the raw, primal power deep within. That sent a thrill through me that went all the way to my toes, hitting the trigger button on my lust tenfold and I crushed him to me, loving the way he groaned softly in my ear.

"Need you," I said, running my hands over his back. "Need to feel you, Bob. We can take it slow, just--" and I reached for his shirt again. He chuckled, a deeply sensual sound that had me fumbling a bit.

"You need more than just me, Harry," Bob said, amused at how I couldn't manage to get the buttons undone.

"Oh yeah?" I replied haughtily, raising my eyes to his.

He gently moved my hands away from his shirt and started to undo the buttons himself. "Would you be terribly offended if I said I wanted to show you what it was like to be loved? To be taught by the hands and lips and body and soul of someone that would rather die than see you unhappy?"

His words floored me and I stood there, mouth agape, until he pressed a finger underneath my chin and shut it for me. I grabbed for him but he slid to the side, smiling softly, and quickly worked the buttons on his shirt, then yanked the material from the waist of his pants and tossed the shirt aside. Bob walked over to me, his steady, sure steps driving me back, and I fell none too gently onto the bed. He was on me in a second, hips pinning mine to the mattress, hands on my biceps, lips firmly latched onto mine.

I moaned, the sound escaping between our mouths. I felt him shiver just a little and thrust experimentally against my clothed erection. "Fuck, Bob," I said, tearing my lips from his. "Oh, gods, please."

"Whatever you want, my dear, darling Harry," he purred. The look on his face when I reached up and pinched one of his nipples was absolutely priceless, and whatever teasing little words he was going to say next died on his lips. The silky sound he made as I twisted and plucked that sensitive piece of skin echoed off the walls.

"You talk a big game, Bob, but I'm thinking you're all talk and no game." I arched an eyebrow at him and grinned a little. "See, you keep going on about how much you want me and yeah, you took your shirt off, but," and I wriggled under him to emphasize my point, "you've yet to show me anything new. I've already seen you naked."

Bob froze for a moment, the way his chest was heaving and the obvious bulge in his pants the only signs he was aroused, but when he dropped his head and met my eyes, I knew. I can't explain it and even if I could, I don't think I want to. The look he gave me was so intimate I felt it touch my soul and settle there. I'd been teasing him, but there was nothing funny in the way he was looking at me.

"You are the only thing I want, ever," Bob said softly. "Never think anything other than that." He reached down, an infinitely slow movement that had me on tenterhooks, waiting for him to touch me. I thought he was going to undo the buttons on my shirt manually, but Bob ran his finger over the buttons and each one was tinged with green, then opened on its own. One by one, until the entire shirt was undone and flapped open.

"My patience only extends so far," he growled. Faster than I could follow, he was on me, hands tearing me out of my shirt and flinging it aside with frustration. "But that's the only magic I'll use tonight," he said before latching his mouth on my neck.

Bob's hands were on my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin, and we were locked at the waist, his hips slowly undulating against mine. That talented mouth of his--damn it to Hades and back, because as much as I loved it, I loved it even more for how weak it made me--nibbled at my pulse point before going lower, his tongue leaving a trail of moisture behind. Oh yeah, he'd leave a mark or three. His hands...hell, it felt like he had more than just two, because they seemed to be everywhere, tracing over my now-healed ribs, fingers tangling in the hair on my chest.

I whimpered and arched toward him, wanting more, but he shushed me and moved his mouth over my chest, biting and sucking. But he carefully avoided my nipples. "You're doing that on purpose," I panted, watching him move down my body. He was going so fucking slow I thought I would go crazy before one of us would get naked, it was taking that fucking long. "What was that you said about patience?" I snapped, frustrated.

"I'm going to assume you snapped at me just now because you're...anxious," he said with just a hint of a cheeky grin.

"You think?" I shot back, then hissed at him when his tongue dipped into my bellybutton. "God, you're such a fucking tease."

"Does that make you my whore?" he asked after he brought up his head. I tried to grab him, wanting to show him just who the whore was, but he slid off of me with the languid ease of a cat, chuckling, and I had to get up off the bed as well, in hot pursuit. He didn't get far, though. That's where my longer limbs had the advantage, because I was able to hook a finger into the waist of his slacks and haul him back.

Bob whirled around and tried to get away from me again, but I yanked on him hard enough to send him backwards. Bob smacked into me and instantly wrapped his arms around me in an attempt to steady himself. I used his off-center balance to topple us back onto the bed, him on the bottom. We didn't even make it completely on the bed, because our legs were hanging off the edge. Didn't matter, really, so long as we didn't fall off.

"If me being your whore means I get this," and I thrust against him, "I'll be the biggest whore you've ever seen."

"Hmm, I doubt that," Bob replied darkly, combing his fingers through my chest hair. "You never met the Earl of Rochester. That man was an absolute whore for anyone that was willing to give up five minutes of their time to get fucked. And not even a proper fuck, mind you, some wasted breath and sweat and a few grunts and fierce thrusting and then it was over."

I froze, my hand on the thigh he had pulled up on the outside of my waist. "You mean to tell me you were once in a position to witness this?"

Bob nodded, biting back a smile. "Oh, I've always been quite the voyeur, lover, but when my mistress at the time chose to leave my skull in a prime viewing position--"

I started laughing, the thought of Bob peeking out from his skull at the lurid display in front of him just too funny. "That sounds just like you," I whispered in his ear. "Always the watcher, never the participator."

A firm hand cupped my ass and squeezed, the touch far less gentle than the previous ones had been. "That's twice now that you've told me I'm not one to...get my hands dirty, so speak," he growled, his fingers digging into one cheek. "You are so very mistaken, Harry Dresden."

"I hope so," I replied heatedly, leaning over him like I was going in for a kiss, but just before our lips met, I dipped my head and claimed one pinched, taut nipple in my mouth. Bob arched against me, keening, and I rolled that bit of skin between my teeth, wanting to hear him make that noise until he couldn't any longer. Heat rippled through me, a straight shot to my throbbing cock, and I let go of his nipple and bit back a groan.

"None of that now," Bob panted. "I want to hear every little noise you make, Harry. No holding back." Bob's blunt fingernails made trails down my back, and the hand on my ass squeezed one last time and then moved to the front of my pants. "Tell me what you want."

I stared at him, wild-eyed and shaking. "You."

"More," he growled, his hand dangerously close to my erection. "I want to know more, Harry. I want to know everything. Teach me how to pleasure you, so that I may always know and always find new ways of eliciting those beautiful sounds you keep making." His hand slid down and cupped my cock, fingers slipping between my legs to press against my balls. I threw my head back and moaned. "Those are exactly the kind of sounds I was referring to," Bob said with a smile.

My breath hitched somewhere between my lungs and my throat as his fingers toyed with me, and even with the cloth between us, the heat of his skin settled in my bones and made me cry out his name. The hand that had been teasing me slid up to the zipper on my pants while he wrapped his other arm around me and drew me down, gently switching our positions and moving us closer to the head of the bed. "Talk to me, Harry. Tell me everything. You had a good start earlier, but keep going."

His voice was a low purr, a throaty sound that had me staring at him in wild abandonment. "Get us both naked and then I'll talk. Only condition I ha--have! Fuck, Bob!" I cried out when two quick fingers dipped inside my now-open zipper and rubbed my cock through my boxers.

"Again, Harry," Bob said in my ear, that lush voice of his dropping a register. "Make that beautiful noise for me again."

I whimpered when he pressed his lips to mine, but when I felt a warm, strong hand slip beneath my boxers and grab my cock, I groaned and arched against him. "Bob, please. Gods, I need this, need you, need-"

His lips silenced me while his thumb teased the head of my cock. My body was quickly overheating and I just wanted him on me, his skin pressed against mine, but despite my pleading, Bob simply kept quietly torturing me, never letting go of my lips or my cock.

I finally hit that point beyond being frustrated and ripped my lips from Bob's. "Would you stop torturing me already?" I panted, breathing hard with every word.

"No," he purred back, his index finger tracing the underside of my cock. "You haven't told me what you want, so until you do, I'm going to keep doing this because I know it pleases you."

"You want specifics?" I said in an exasperated tone. "You're driving me crazy and you want me to be coherent?"

"I just want to know where to start," Bob said smoothly, his tone as rich as velvet, and just as decadent. "Talk to me, Harry."

"Okay, okay," I conceded, some part of me knowing that giving Bob this would make this whole thing that much hotter. I scooted up on the bed and he followed, crawling over me like a cat. I watched his muscles ripple as he moved and unconsciously licked my lips.

"Don't tease me like that," he growled softly, his eyes locked on my mouth.

"Payback's a bitch, Bob," I said with a grin. "What would you call that torture you just laid on me?"

Bob stared down at me for a second and the heat and weight of his gaze settled over me. Power was flowing off of him, charged and electric and my body shook from it. I wanted to give him what he wanted, and then more. "Kiss me," I whispered. "Kiss me and make me yours."

Bob gently lowered himself on me, his body covering mine. "How?" he asked softly, the palm of his hand caressing my face.

"Slowly," I said, swallowing hard. "Slowly, deeply. Like you're trying to devour me. Use your tongue, your teeth. Bite my bottom lip and make me feel it."

Bob's breath became ragged gasps and I couldn't help but smile. "Anything else?" he croaked out.

"Pin me down, Bob. Use those hands of yours and pin me to the bed, keep me from moving while you kiss me." I said it fast, so fast that I was afraid he didn't catch all of it.

Bob's eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. Must have heard me okay. I tugged him down on me and his hands pressed my shoulders into the bed, the strength and possession in them so arousing that when his lips touched mine, I cried out his name and thrust wildly against his hips. But he followed my instructions and kept me pinned to the bed while his lips assaulted mine. Slowly, his deep, drugged kisses pulled whimpers and groans from me. His tongue tangled with mine, his lips hot against my own. Our commingled power made every hair on my body stand on end, and I knew this was just the start of something that would more than likely blow my mind.

Sharp teeth tugged on my bottom lip, pulling with just enough force that it bordered on pain but kept the pleasure on the forefront at the same time, and I wrapped my arms around his chest and dug my nails into his back, hard. Bob groaned and thrust against me, his hard cock pushing onto mine. I could feel sweat forming on my brow but didn't care. This is what I'd been wanting for so long, and I wasn't going to do anything but make sure that this man, my love, would get everything he wanted. I wanted to please him, make him quiver, touch him in all the right spots and hear him say my name.

I wanted to be possessed, and to possess, all at the same time.

"Harry," Bob said against my lips. "Tell me more."

"Your hands," I gasped, "use them. On my chest."

Bob reluctantly pulled back and used his hands to trace patterns over my chest, fingers tangling in the hair. "Like this?"

I bit my bottom lip and watched his mouth curl up in a smile when I did that. "Yeah, but--"

"But what?"

I arched my back a little, pushing my chest up to him. "Use your nails, on my skin. Over my nipples."

"Oh, Harry," Bob purred, "anything you want. Anything, my love."

Those same hands that had been so gentle and arousing were suddenly possessive, just like I wanted. Blunt fingernails scraped over my pectoral muscles, then two thumbs circled my nipples. Bob flicked his fingernails over those two points, making me grab his biceps and cling to him. "Bob," I panted, "don't stop."

Bob let out a fierce growl and shoved me down. "I won't, I promise." He stared down at me, those beautiful eyes of his boring into me. "You're sounding awfully needy right now, dear boy."

"Guilty as charged. And now I'm going to get bossy and tell you you're taking too damn long to get my pants off of me," I said playfully. "Get on with it."

Bob flashed me a devious grin before he dipped his head and tongued one of my nipples, bathing it in warm moisture. I sunk my nails into his arms, making him shiver, and his teeth pulled hard. I hissed at him and he responded by chuckling before lifting his head and saying, "And I'm to do what after I take your pants off?"

"Get them off first and we'll go from there," I shot back.

"If you say so." Bob's left hand slid up my chest to rest on my neck, and his long, clever fingers lightly wrapped around my throat, holding me down and sending an unexpected rush of adrenaline through me. If he tightened his grip too much, he'd cut off my air. It was perverse, it was wrong and just a little scary, but knowing he could have that kind of power over me thrilled me just a little. His other hand jerked on the waist of my pants, savagely tearing them from my body. Bob flung the material aside, growling and panting, then leaned in and took the elastic band in the waist of my boxers between his teeth, pulling them down my body. His left hand let go of my neck so he could rid me of my boxers and the dampness of his palms on my skin made me writhe. He stared down at me, naked and pleading for his touch, and his eyes burned into me.

"Halfway there, Bob," I said between deep breaths. "You need to get naked--now." I reached up and latched my fingers onto the button of his slacks. "Let me."

Bob straightened and I followed, sitting up so that I could undo the button and slide the zipper down. His erection was straining the fabric containing it and I couldn't resist running a finger down that hard length. Bob shivered and bucked against my finger, his violent move almost enough to send me backwards, so I wrapped an arm around his waist to keep that from happening again. "Let me tease you just a little," I growled at him. "Let me find out what you like. I'm not really good at telling you what I want, I think maybe I need to learn from you."

"Oh, really?" Bob tipped my head up with a finger under my chin and smiled gently at me. "You were doing fine, dear boy, but if you really want to learn...I'll be more than happy to provide a lesson." His lips brushed my forehead. "Always the teacher, never the student. I suppose I'll have to live with that."

"You don't sound too terribly disappointed with that arrangement," I said slowly, running my hands up his arms.

"No, I suppose not," he whispered back. "Undress me, Harry."

Without a word, I slid his pants down to where his knees met the bed, then his underwear down to the same spot. "Want me to take them off the rest of the way, or do you want to?"

Grinning, Bob suddenly tipped backwards and landed his bare ass on the bed. "Take them off, Harry."

I let out a bark of laughter and pulled his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, flinging them aside. And then he was naked in front of me, that pale skin damp with sweat and flushed a gentle pink. His eyes were fixed on me, burning with lust, and yet...I felt such an intense emotion there, welling just behind those green irises. Love and need and lust and want all thrown together in a blender and put on frappe. The slightest tinge of musk was starting to tickle my nostrils and I looked down to see his cock, hard and pink at the tip, arching upward and slightly to the left. I'd noticed how thick he was before, but with him in front of me like this, all laid out, I was noticing everything.

And Bob noticed me noticing. A sexy smile, low-watt and almost feral-looking, spread over his face, and with a slowness that had me gaping at him, Bob spread his thighs and leaned back, arching his hips. The view he gave me, from hard cock and heavy balls back to where the crack of his ass barely hid his entrance, had me up off my knees and crawling to him.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I said in a low voice. "Talk to me, Bob, tell me what you want."

Bob stared at me through half-hooded eyes and licked his lips. He kept that stare for just a moment, and then trailed his eyes over my naked body. I was leaning over him, my thighs pressed against the inside of his calves, and I ran my hands down his muscled thighs, enjoying how the slightly coarse hair on his legs got tangled around my fingertips. Bob hissed at me in pleasure and threw his head back, his spine curving upwards. That move brought his hips up as well, bringing his erection into full view. Bob started to go back down, but I reached out and wrapped my hand around his cock.

Hot and pulsing with every heartbeat, the piece of Bob in my hand responded eagerly to my touch. As was the rest of Bob. "Talk to me, Bob," I coaxed. "I want to know."

Bob took a few deep breaths to steady himself and I could tell he was trying to not be affected by the fact that the most sensitive part of his anatomy was currently being held captive by my hand, but the burning in his eyes and the slack set of his mouth gave him away. That and the frustrated way he said, "Oh, gods, Harry...touch me."

"How? Where?"

Bob glared at me. "Young man, don't toy with me because you're trying to be cute." He raked his nails down my chest and said quietly, "Touch me everywhere. I don't care where, but I want your hands on me. Now."

I all but leered at him and bent over his body, trailing my tongue over his abdomen. Bob's arms instantly went around me, his hands pulling on me in order to force me on top of him, but I was able to keep my balance by letting go of his cock and putting both hands on the mattress to steady myself.

"I thought I said hands, Harry," Bob panted right before I stretched over him and took one nipple between my lips. Bob bucked under me and our cocks brushed against each other. We both froze mid-thrust, the sensation enough to make me whip my head up and lock eyes with him. Those beautiful green eyes were wide and his mouth formed a perfect "O"...and then he moaned my name.

That sound rippled through me, making every nerve in my body light up with pleasure. I closed my eyes despite trying to keep from doing that. "Holy fuck," I whispered.

And I moved against him again...and it happened. Again. Bob clutched at me and I lost my balance this time, falling on top of him. "I think I can only take so much more," Bob whispered as he pulled my head down for a kiss. The kiss built slowly, starting out as just a chaste brush of lips, but I wanted more, so I swiped at his bottom lip with my tongue and Bob invited me in. I sucked at that bottom lip, taking it between my teeth, and then coupled that with a thrust of my hips. Bob's arms latched around my neck as I sunk my fingers into that soft silver hair of his, and he probably couldn't have held me any tighter to him as he thrust back. The slick, hot slide of flesh against flesh nearly drove me insane with need, and I wasn't going to last very long if we kept going like this.

I slowly slid my lips away from his and started kissing his neck, sucking and licking on his pulse point, making damn well sure to leave a mark of my own. Bob gasped and clung to me all that much more. I slipped my arms around his back and lifted him up just a little, feeling the heat from his body and his sweat-slick skin under my hands. I spread my fingers over his back and pressed into the muscle there. Bob practically purred with pleasure, then moaned a little when I tongued his Adam's apple.

"My love, I need you," he whispered hoarsely. "Now, please."

If he hadn't sounded like the world was going to end if we didn't make love right then, I would have kept on teasing him. But that beautiful voice of his, normally deep and rumbling, was on the verge of desperation, driven by love and frustration. So l pulled my head up and looked him in the eyes, gently petting his hair as I said, "How do you want to do this?"

The wild look in his eyes told me what I needed to know but he did manage a broken, "Oh, Harry--I just--please."

I could only take so much begging. I'd envisioned this first time lots of different ways, but I'd never thought I'd have him begging like that, practically sobbing and clawing at me in desperate need. Not only was it erotic but it told me, once again, that Bob was meant to be mine and I was meant to be his. As romantic as it may sound, I'd never experienced anything like this before and I somehow knew it could only be because this was Bob beneath me and not anyone else.

"Anything," I whispered against his hair and peppered his face with kisses as I reached out with my left hand. Wiggling my fingers just a little, I sent out some energy and the mental image of what I wanted, and a second later, I had it in my hand.

Pulling back from Bob, I looked down and saw his eyes instantly lock on the little tube of lubricant in my hand. A smile slowly slipped over his face and his hand closed around mine. "So my begging was not in vain."

I chuckled at him and at the lack of questioning in his voice. "You know it wasn't," I said before I kissed him deeply. "I'm a sucker for you. You know that."

One silver eyebrow arched. "You're a sucker for me," he said with slightest hint of a purr, his deep voice making my skin break out in goosebumps.

"Hell yes," I said with a grin. I flipped the lube open and slicked my fingers, then tossed the tube on the nightstand. Some hesitation crept into my mind as I stared at my shining fingers--what if I screwed this up?

"Stop that," Bob commanded softly. "Whatever doubt is making you hesitate, get rid of it." His hand pulled my fingers down and squeezed them gently. "Don't worry about anything." And he smiled mischievously. "Other than giving me the orgasm of my life, I'm not expecting much."

I shook my head at him, smiling, and laughed. "Gee, thanks for the confidence-booster." Right as I got those words out of my mouth, Bob's hand wrapped around my cock and pulled. I arched and thrust against him, eyes wide with surprise and a scorching-hot need that set my skin on fire.

"Get on with it," he said, his voice a rumbling noise that had me whimpering. "We didn't come this far, naked and sweating and teasing each other, only to not get to the best part."

Bob let me go then flipped onto his stomach and spread his legs. It took me a moment to refocus my eyes and my brain, and when I looked down, Bob was laid out before me. The tightness in his shoulders and back, enhanced by the shadows that were cast about the room from the candles, told me he was waiting for me, but his lower body was utterly relaxed. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he was sleeping. I ran my hand down his spine, felt him shiver, and settled myself in between his open legs.

I let my left hand rest on the small of his back as the slick fingers of my right hand slowly traced over the crease between his cheeks. Bob softly moaned my name and thrust into the mattress, then back against my hand. It was as if his body wasn't sure what it wanted more, friction or my fingers inside him. I repeated that movement a few more times, trying to work up some courage, but Bob's voice stopped me just as I was ready to press inside him.

"Make me yours, Harry. No more hesitating. I love you. I want to feel you inside me."

I tried to suppress the tears that pricked at my eyes, a full-body shudder, and the way my cock was aching painfully. I moved up a little, put my left hand over the one he'd put on the pillow beside his head, and brushed his entrance with my fingertips. Bob groaned low in his throat and quivered, that noise of passion and need urging me on. I took a deep breath and pushed one finger just barely inside him, trying to get the muscle to accept my intrusion. I met resistance at first but I kept the pressure there, and after a few breathless moments--with Bob's muffled whimpers and my blood roaring in my ears--my finger sank in to the knuckle.

I bit my lip and looked down at my hand in such an intimate spot, and I couldn't help but whisper, "I never thought we'd be here."

It took him a moment, but Bob finally managed to say in a hoarse voice, "I always held out hope, even if I was almost positive it was futile."

After the frenzied way we'd pretty much tried to eat each other alive just minutes ago, this slow, almost painstakingly sluggish path to lovemaking was making me more aroused. My cock was pretty much begging at this point, but I willed away the orgasm I could feel starting to build. We were going to do this right--slow and sweet and the way it was supposed to be.

For the both of us.

I looped my free arm around his waist and drew his willing, pliant body up enough so that we could shove a nearby pillow under his stomach, and then my hand slid down his body and curled around his cock just as I added another finger in him. Bob gave a shout of surprise, and what I hoped was also delight, and thrust into my fist.

Praying I was doing this right, I started to move my fingers in and out of him, just a little at first so we could both get used to the feeling. The muscle my fingers were encased in was tight and just about the hottest thing I've ever touched, like being thrown into a furnace. Sweat was dripping into my eyes from my scalp and forehead but I didn't care. Bob was making helpless little sounds and thrashing beneath me; I had two fingers inside him and my other hand wrapped around his cock, and it all felt so right and amazing and oh my fucking god, we're actually doing this...

Unable to take the torture anymore, I slid my fingers in as far as they would go, jerked on his cock with my other hand, and bumped his prostate. Bob howled, a mix of unintelligible sounds and what I thought was my name, and his back arched, bringing his body off the bed a little. His muscles clamped around my fingers and his cock pulsed hotly in my hand. My fist was dampened by semen and I knew he was close, close enough to where I wanted...and needed...to be inside him.

And his words told me the same. "Please, Harry, love....I can't take it. Please."

Gods, his begging was my undoing and I didn't care. I had this intelligent, witty, beautiful man reduced to desperate pleas. "I know, my love, I know. I'm here," I said as I gently withdrew my fingers from him and pushed on his side until he rolled over. One look into those wild, black eyes of his, one look at those reddened lips, one glimpse of that pale skin....the very sight of him like this, the sound of his quiet keening, the way he was grabbing at me and pulling me down on top of him....I was a goner. His forever.

I slid his legs up and he instantly latched them around my waist, drawing his ass up to where I had easy access. Bracing my weight--slightly unevenly--on one hand, I touched his lips with mine, and hand around my cock, pushed it to his entrance. Bob sighed against my lips and wriggled his body down a little further, his heels digging into my back. I pulled back from the kiss and looked him in the eyes as I pushed a little more into him.

"Harry," he said breathlessly. But I heard the unspoken command there: For gods' sake man...fuck me already.

My eyes locked with his and I pushed my hips forward, driving into him the rest of the way. I only briefly saw Bob's mouth drop open and his eyes flutter shut before I couldn't stop my own eyes from rolling back in my head. Fuck, he was tight and hot and perfect. Hips cradling his ass, I was flush against him in every way possible. Holy fuck. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was having a hard time breathing, and when I opened my eyes and saw Bob beneath me, it didn't take but that one look to realize he was just as flushed and breathless as I was.

We stayed like that for a moment, just adjusting to the feel of our joined bodies. We didn't speak, we simply stared at each other, sweat beading on our skin. With an almost drugged motion, Bob ran his hand up my arm and neck, fingertips smoothing down the hair on my forearm as he went, and then came to rest on my cheek. Without saying a word, he was telling me what he wanted. I shifted my hips slightly to get a better angle and then pulled out and pushed back in again, meeting little resistance this time. Bob shuddered and gripped my shoulder with his other hand, nails biting into my skin, and his thighs remained clenched around my waist, the strong muscles squeezing in reaction to every move I made.

I moved in and out of him again, going a little faster and thrusting a little harder than the last time, bending over him so I could drive in steeper. I bumped his prostate and watched as tiny currents of green energy flashed over his skin and jumped to mine; it was basically like being electrocuted by sexual energy. Bob was inadvertently feeding me some of the power he was generating from being so sexually aroused. And that gave me an idea.

"I love you," I said as I looked down at him. He smiled gently, but the expression was made far fiercer by those black eyes of his. But I understood what he was trying to communicate. I let him see just a flash of a smile before I moved my hand up and grabbed his cock. Bob barely got out a gasp before I concentrated the energy he was feeding me, mixed it with some of my own, and sent it back to him through the hand on his cock.

Bob's back bowed upwards and he let out a strangled cry, and not one to waste the moment, I thrust into him again and let the energy around us feed my burgeoning orgasm. Right at the precipice of that point of no return (and knowing I wasn't going to last a whole hell of a lot longer), I moved my hand up and down his cock, wanting him to come first.

"I love you," I repeated between breathless gasps, watching him writhe under me.

Bob's hand shot up and wrapped around my neck, hauling me down. "Harry...gods..." and he kissed me roughly, thrusting his tongue against mine, "...love you...always..."

His voice broke off when I swiped my thumb over the head of his cock and I watched him freeze for a moment before his entire body shook and he held onto me with the grip of a drowning man. Bob's voice roared in my ears as he came, his entire body overtaken by the onslaught of pleasure. My hand and chest were splattered with his semen, the pungent musk of his release filling my nostrils.

What took me over the edge was, on that final thrust inside him, Bob looked up at me with almost more love than I could deal with at that moment, his spent, relaxed body willingly taking the weight of mine. I felt sensation boil under my skin and heat curl from the base of my spine and shoot across my body in the matter of a moment; I knew nothing but my own orgasm right then. My body wasn't my own as I shook and shivered, my cock throbbing inside of him, my mind had no control over my mouth as I said his name...that wasn't me at the wheel, it was the earthshaking, backbone-shattering pleasure racing through me.

My limbs started to shake from fatigue just as I came out of the fog, and I felt Bob pull me down on top of him just after I slid out of his pliant body. Warm, damp palms pushed my hair back and ran over my face, then he cleaned my chest off with a tissue from the box by the bed. His soft lips met mine in a feather's touch as he settled me on his body. Eyes still not completely focused, I tucked my head under his chin and mouthed the skin on his collarbone. Bob shifted under me, making soft, murmuring sounds of comfort, his hands tracing patterns on my side and back.

"Bob?" I finally said, my voice a little rough.

"Hmm?" he hummed sleepily.

I rolled off of him and grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it. "I love you," I repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. But I wasn't really keeping track; I'd tell him a million times a day, I didn't care.

Bob sat up sluggishly, his eyes slowly returning to normal, and tugged me down for a kiss. "And I love you, Harry Dresden. Make no mistake in that."

"I won't," I said firmly. "C'mere." Turning on my side, I drew Bob's arm over my waist and waited for him to lay down beside me.

After a few moments of contented silence, Bob's voice sounded near my ear. "Do you know the myth of how love between two people began?" he asked as one of his hands lazily caressed my thigh.

I moved into that touch, enjoying the warmth of his body as it wrapped around me. "I vaguely remember something..."

Bob chuckled softly. "Plato speaks of it in his Symposium. The story goes that our very first ancestors were dual beings, two people joined as a whole. Zeus saw that humankind was becoming arrogant and prideful, so as a punishment he ripped everyone apart, split each whole into two beings. He then told Apollo to fix the human form so that they may continue to exist and that they may reproduce, but they were to never be one whole again. Sex is our way to temporarily satisfy the constant urge of humans to be whole again. Our erotic desires of the flesh and factors of physical attraction and notions of love are just desires that can never be truly fulfilled because what we truly desire is to be whole again and never be separated from our other half." He bent his head and nipped at my ear. "Hmm, I thought for certain that you'd remember those particular lectures

"Oh, those?" I ran my hand over the thigh he'd hooked over mine. "Yeah, those I remember."

"Just as I thought you would. I happen to remember the way your waning attention was suddenly raptly focused on me when I started talking about erotic desire. Fifteen years old and your eyes were glazing over at just me mentioning sex."

I had to laugh at that. "I don't know too many fifteen year old boys that don't get all glassy-eyed at the mention of sex. All those hormones."

"Well, since you're such the scholar," he teased, lips brushing my neck, "do you remember what Aristophanes said about what we would call homosexual love in the Symposium?

"Teach me," I said, dragging my fingers down his arm. He looked amazing, all sleepy-eyed and tousled, limbs languorously laid over mine.

"All right," he drawled, his hand running through my hair. "Shall I quote or paraphrase?"

I traced his lips with a finger and whispered, "I just want to hear you talk."

That made him smile softly. "Then I'll do a little of both. They are lovers of youth, and are not naturally inclined to marry or beget children, but they are satisfied if they may be allowed to live unwedded; and such a nature is prone to love and ready to return love, always embracing that which is akin to him. And when one of them finds his other half, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other's sight, even for a moment. The intense yearning which each of them has towards each other does not appear to be the desire of intercourse, but of something else which the soul desires and cannot tell." He paused for a moment, his eyes searching my face, and then said, "But the intercourse is fun, too."

"I knew you were a pervert long before we started getting fleshy with one another," I said jokingly as I reached for him. Bob dipped his head and met my lips. "But that was beautiful," I whispered just before I opened my mouth to him, silently asking for his kiss.