Evenfall (94 page)

He slumped down lower on the couch, one hand still clutching Boyd's shirt as his fist began to pump his cock faster. His eyes rolled back in his head and he began to pant, jerking off frantically, not caring that he was in plain sight of what he thought was his sleeping partner.

Sin breathed noisily as he touched himself, chest rising and falling erratically as his hand slid up and down his erection. It seemed to go on like that for several moments and then his breathing increased and he began arching up, thrusting his hips against his hand, low moans escaping his mouth as he lost himself in some fantasy.

He continued to clutch the shirt even as the soft sounds rose slightly in pitch, the muscles in his body flexing and straining. He was getting louder and breathing harder, when suddenly a strangled cry escaped his lips and he came hard, streams of semen shooting up all over his chest. He muttered Boyd's name softly as he sagged against the sofa in apparent exhaustion.

It took absolutely every bit of control Boyd had to continue to breathe evenly and not react at all. He stared through his eyelashes at Sin, stunned and aroused. There was absolutely no mistaking what had just happened and his mind reeled.
He couldn't believe that Sin actually just masturbated in front of him, clutching his tank top and murmuring his name. The very same doubts he'd had within the same day were now debunked. Boyd couldn't believe that Sin chose him over a beautiful woman. He chose to stop when he was with someone who was begging for it, and instead he came back to Boyd, who had certainly been flirting with him but who had yet to say anything as blunt as, "Fuck me, Sin, I need you now."
This changed everything. Boyd had been leery of inadvertently scaring Sin away or limiting his choices by showing interest in him.

But after this... He should have felt bad for seeing Sin jerk off when he thought no one saw, but he figured it was Sin's fault. He shouldn't have been right in view of Boyd, even if he thought he was asleep, and he certainly shouldn't look so fucking hot while he did it. The main problem was now Boyd was painfully hard and he had no way of dealing with it without letting Sin know he was awake. The only saving grace he had right then was that he'd happened to lie down in the best way to hide an erection.

Sin shifted on the couch, looking exhausted but content. He grabbed Boyd's tank top and absently cleaned himself up with it before he froze and stared at the shirt. His expression clearly said, 'Fuck. I'm an idiot.' He stood, threw the dirty tank top in the laundry hamper Boyd had recently bought, and wandered by Boyd's bed, glancing at him along the way.

Boyd continued to act as if he were asleep and perfectly unaware of anything that had just transpired. It was that much more difficult when he could smell the musk and damp sweat from Sin's body as he passed by to get to his bed. The slight creaking of the bed springs as Sin dropped down to sleep was creating far too vivid of images in Boyd's mind that had nothing to do with sleeping and a lot more to do with Sin, naked and making those sounds again only this time against Boyd's skin.

Thankfully, his back was to Sin's bed so he could squeeze his eyes shut finally even if he didn't dare disrupt his steady breathing. He waited a long time until he was certain that Sin had actually fallen into an exhausted sleep, his body spent from the alcohol and orgasm.

Gritting his teeth, Boyd stood and made his way to the bathroom. He dropped his head back against the wall and masturbated to the memory of Sin touching himself.

His mouth fell open even as he forced himself to make no noise louder than a ragged exhale of breath. His hand was quick and rough against his erection, but he closed his eyes and imagined it was Sin's hand. He thought of his light green eyes staring at him so intently. Imagined that sexy little smirk and the timbre of his voice when he said his name. Sin's strangled cry echoed in his mind and Boyd thought almost obsessively about the shape of his body, the feel of those hard muscles beneath his hands and what it would be like to touch him all over without having to pretend it was casual.

Sin's cock was large enough on its own but it only seemed emphasized by the memory of his erection cast in contours of moonlight and shadow. What would his cock feel like rubbing against Boyd, bare bodies sliding with sweat, Sin's voice low and a puff of hot breath as he whispered in his ear, "I want to fuck you—" Boyd had to actually bite his shirt to keep silent at that thought and he came so hard that he couldn't think clearly. There was a long, pleasure-filled moment when Sin could have burst into the room and Boyd would have been too caught up in his orgasm to notice or care. But he remained as alone as he had been and there was no sound from the other side of the door indicating that Sin knew he was awake.

He sagged against the bathroom floor, feeling exhausted. It didn't help that he stayed up far later than he should have, or that the last half of the day was a bit of an emotional roller coaster.

The irony did not escape him that they'd masturbated thinking of each other, despite being in the same apartment. They could just fuck for God's sake and use each other's bodies rather than their own hands.

It took him awhile to summon the energy to clean up and then he realized to a bit of dark irony that he dirtied his shirt as well, just as Sin had earlier. Apparently it was the night of getting semen all over Boyd's clothing. Luckily, he had an identical shirt in the bathroom to change into so hopefully Sin would not notice.

Silently padding back into the room, Boyd walked around the Japanese folding screens and tossed his shirt into the laundry carelessly. He paused at the edge of Sin's bed, watching him for a long time before he finally crawled into his own bed.

He remained watching Sin from beneath his eyelashes, listening to his steady breathing and watching the rise and fall of his chest. He studied the way his lips were parted and his eyes moved every now and then as if he was having a particularly vivid dream. The room was stifling even with the air conditioner running, making it difficult for Boyd to feel comfortable enough to relax for sleep.

But exhaustion pulled at him and, slowly, watching Sin until his gaze blurred into undefined shadows, he fell asleep.

Chapter 31

A loud whining sound jolted Boyd awake so suddenly that he jerked, eyes snapping open. He stared wildly, heartbeat a crescendo in his chest, and it took him a second to even think to look for the source. Sin was standing at the entrance to their studio, clad only in low-slung jeans as he bent over with a drill. A middle-aged man Boyd had never seen before stood next to their couch, watching Sin work. He gestured and said something rapidly in Spanish and Sin didn't even look over before he replied in the same language.

Boyd couldn't tell if they were arguing or chatting, but Sin didn't seem to be on high alert so he just sagged back against the bed and threw a pillow over his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He had the vague beginnings of a headache from lack of sleep and the whirring of the drill was not helping matters at all. This was a prime example of why it was an issue living with someone with such different sleeping patterns.

Not that he could really blame Sin for practically being an insomniac; it had been trained into him as a child, it was really his father's fault. The thought still bothered Boyd and it made him want to counteract it just to prove that Sin didn't have to be on guard at all times. At least he seemed to have been getting slightly better; Boyd was fairly certain he slept more in Monterrey than he had back at the Agency.

He lay still for a few minutes, attempting to doze off or ignore the drill, but it was too late; Sin had effectively woken him for the day. He sighed and listened distantly to Sin murmuring in Spanish, letting the words that meant nothing to him pass him by. It was easier to listen to the rise and fall of Sin's words, voice, even his mood, when Boyd didn't know what he was saying.

His eyes slid closed and he found himself thinking about the night before. There was no way Boyd could misinterpret what he'd seen and heard. There was no way to ignore that Sin wanted him, and no way to ignore that he wanted Sin as well.

He pushed himself up on one elbow and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Neither of them seemed to notice that he was awake, but it was more likely that Sin was just ignoring the fact that he'd gotten up. He padded over on bare feet, ruffling his messy hair back as he yawned.

The man nearly jumped when Boyd stopped at his side and he looked over while stopping himself in mid-sentence.

"
Hola
," Boyd said with a lopsided, sleepy smile; he held his hand out and the man shook it, looking startled. Boyd kept his eyes half-closed so his eye color could only vaguely be seen through his eyelashes; he'd almost forgotten that he didn't have the contacts in and tried to remember the few Spanish phrases he'd learned so far.

"
Me llamo Kadin.
Ah... Sorry, that's almost all I know in Spanish. Except '
No hablo Espaρol
.'"

"
Hola
," the man said back, looking at Sin quickly as if to question Boyd's presence. "I am Enrique. I watch this building."

Enrique said something else to Sin in Spanish and Sin finally looked over his shoulder, giving the man a slightly impatient glance. He drawled something that sounded annoyed and waved a hand in the direction of the hallway as if telling the man that he had things under control.

Enrique shrugged, not seeming very concerned and pointed at the air conditioner, saying something else in his native language before nodding at Boyd and heading out of the room. Sin ignored him and didn't bother attempting to translate any of the conversation for Boyd.

Sin's accent sounded different than Enrique's, but Boyd liked Sin's more. While the caretaker trilled out his words quickly and almost incomprehensibly to a non-fluent Spanish speaker, Sin drawled the language out almost lazily. His voice was low, deep and every syllable rolled off his tongue in a manner that rather seductive, even if he was likely unaware of it.

Boyd waited until Enrique's footsteps faded down the hallway before he walked over to Sin's side, closer than was necessary. He leaned over so that he could see more clearly what Sin was doing and was pleased to see that he was installing very sturdy-looking locks; a one-sided deadbolt, two additional double cylinder bolts, new steel butt hinges and a security strike plate with case-hardened screws.

"What did Enrique say?" he asked quietly, lips brushing against Sin's ear.

Sin's hands froze for a moment and he turned his head slightly, looking at Boyd briefly before turning back to his work. There was a long hesitation as if he'd forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. The corners of his mouth turned down in a displeased frown.

"He said he'd forgotten I had a roommate and that our air conditioner won't work for shit during the summer months."

Boyd leaned a little closer. "Oh." He tilted his head enough for his breath to warm Sin's skin and he watched Sin with eyes that looked almost golden in the morning light. "Will he be bringing us a new one?"

"No." The tension in Sin's shoulders was obvious, his muscles taut as he awkwardly began to drill the lock into the door again. He kept shifting and pausing, obviously distracted.

Inwardly, Boyd smirked, but he made sure his expression remained neutral. "Really?"

He shifted nearer to Sin in the pretense of being heard over the drill. His t-shirt brushed against Sin's strong back and he could practically feel the energy and heat radiating from his body through the fabric. His eyes wandered over the tattoo on Sin's shoulder, the beads of sweat that slid down his back and disappeared into his low hanging jeans. "Why not?"

"Because it's no--fucking damn it," Sin swore and stopped drilling abruptly, realizing he'd been working in the wrong spot. He turned around entirely and glared at Boyd.

"You made me fuck it up," he snapped and slammed the drill down on the floor. He dug into his pocket to look for cigarettes only to find that he'd finished his pack already. His full lips pursed tightly, dark eyebrows snapping together in annoyance as he flung the empty pack on the floor with an irritated grunt.

"What did I do?" Boyd asked, feigning a confused look. He moved next to Sin and bent over, brushing against Sin's bare arms and torso as he went to grab the drill. His shirt was sticking to him by now and it was unbearably hot in the room, mostly because any cool air the AC had managed to generate had gone right out the open door. "I'll do it."

Sin yanked the drill out of his hand and made a face. "You can't even identify a pot-- why do you think you'd do any good with a drill?" Despite the comment, Sin's eyes didn't seem particularly mocking and a smirk managed to find its way onto his otherwise stony face. It seemed that he was trying to force himself to be mean to Boyd and was failing. "Go do something constructive."

Standing fully, Boyd raised an eyebrow. He reached out and put his hand over Sin's on the drill in the pretense of pulling him closer. "Why don't you teach me, then?" he suggested mildly, ignoring Sin's last comment. "There's only one way to learn and that's hands on."

Sin blinked once, twice, and then his mouth fell open although no sound came out. His eyebrows drew together slightly and he stared at Boyd in what seemed to be relative confusion. He closed his mouth and opened it again although he didn't seem to know what to say. He ended up clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away from Boyd.

"Go get me some cigarettes," he muttered finally, for lack of anything better to say.

Boyd watched him for a long moment, looking as if he was about to argue, but in the end he decided he had all day. He just inclined his head in a nod. "Alright. I need to pick up some things anyway."

He strolled past Sin and brought his duffel bag with him into the bathroom. A few minutes passed before he reemerged in a dark green t-shirt with a picture of a pinwheel on it and white letters beneath that said simply, 'Blow me.' A pair of worn denim shorts hung low on his hips. Wide black leather bands hid his wrists and a pair of sunglasses on top of his head held his hair away from his now dark blue eyes in a messy tangle.

Sin was no longer making any attempts to mess with the door. His eyes followed Boyd the entire time after he appeared from the bathroom and he was doing a very poor job of concealing that fact. He wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead, absently sucking on his lip ring as Boyd noticed Sin watch him lean over to dig through his duffel bag for something. Through the fall of his red hair, Boyd could see Sin's eyes going up and down his legs.

Not showing that he noticed Sin's stare, Boyd wandered over to his side once again. "Need anything else?" he asked idly, bare arm sliding against Sin's as he stood within the other man's personal space.

Sin watched Boyd from under his bangs and shook his head silently.

Boyd stared into Sin's eyes for a long moment without saying anything. The time stretched around them, slowed by Monterrey's heat and the moment, until he smiled.

"Good luck, then," he said lightly, pulling away just enough to place his hand on Sin's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "I expect the door to be finished when I return." His fingers tightened, his thumb rubbing briefly near Sin's collarbone, and it was with a lingering touch that he disappeared out the door.

===The task took Boyd nearly an hour. The heat was intensifying by the day and many people seemed to be wearing fewer items of clothing than even earlier in the week. Boyd had not shown so much skin in public for years; he rarely wore anything but pants and a long-sleeved shirt even in the confines of his house. While in some regards it felt a little odd, for the most part he was thankful for whatever relief he could get from the heat.

Letting the bag from the store thump against his legs, Boyd took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. While out, he'd decided to pick up a few extra items that he thought they may need soon. When he turned down the hallway he saw that the door was shut firmly and seemed to hang in the frame better. He was prepared to shove against it but the door swung open perfectly, cleanly and silently.

Impressed, he looked the door up and down then pushed it lightly and watched it swing shut on its own. He turned around and saw Sin sprawling on the couch reading the Neil Gaiman compilation he'd bought months ago, and noted that the rest of his books sat in a messy pile next to the sofa. Walking over to Sin's side, Boyd dropped the bag on the table and looked down at him. He was entertained to note how studiously Sin was ignoring him. He was certain that Sin was actually watching him from the corner of his eyes but was trying in vain to pretend that he wasn't.

Crouching down, Boyd put one finger on the top of the book and tugged it down just enough to grin at Sin over the edge. "I'm impressed by the door," he told him. "Having it shut so easily makes up for you waking me so early today. "

Sin glanced at him and then let his gaze drop down to the pages of his book. "What else did you get?"

"Just some things I needed." Boyd reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a cigarette pack. He shifted up and sat on the side of the couch, reaching over the book to press the pack against Sin's chest, his hand lingering there. "This is the brand you like, right?"

"Yes," Sin replied, sitting up straighter as he opened the pack.

"Good." Boyd pushed himself a little further onto the couch, causing the side of his hip to press against Sin's. He watched Sin's fingers, and then his gaze slid up Sin's chest to center on his green eyes. "Are you enjoying your day off so far?"

Sin shrugged, glancing up at Boyd. "I guess. Why?"

"Just wondering," Boyd said with a shrug. He leaned a little further against Sin's side in the guise of trying to get more comfortable. He let his eyes wander along Sin's chest and arms. After a moment he reached out to run his fingers along the barbed wire tattoo on Sin's upper arm, just visible beneath his shirt. His eyes flicked back up to Sin's face. "Will you keep anything from your cover after this is over?"

"Smoking may be difficult to quit," Sin replied slowly, eyes narrowing at Boyd. Once again he asked in a suspicious voice, "Why?"

At first Boyd simply shrugged, his gaze sliding down to taking in Sin's body. He shifted and raised his hand to Sin's face. His fingers brushed against Sin's chin and his thumb reached out, running along the lip ring and catching against Sin's lips. His gaze intensified as his thumb briefly ran along the parting of Sin's lips. He wanted to slide his fingers inside those full lips and taste every centimeter of that mouth.

He didn't hide the desire he felt when he looked back up and met Sin's eyes. "Because I want this to stay," he murmured, his thumb pressing lightly against that simple silver ring.

Sin's
Adam’s
apple moved in his throat as he swallowed. His lips parted further as he asked again, and in a lower voice, "Why's that?"

"When you wear it, I wonder what it tastes like," Boyd replied, his voice a husky rumble. He dipped his thumb between Sin's lips. "I wonder how it feels."

Dark eyebrows drew together over Sin's vivid green eyes and he actually sat back slightly, out of Boyd's reach. It seemed like he would say something but a breath passed, and he just stared silently.

Boyd's gaze tracked Sin's face, drifting down to his lips and then moving back up to his eyes. He watched him a moment and then decided to give Sin a little space before he made his next attempt. He let his fingers brush against Sin's arm and hand when he pulled away and pushed himself up off the couch. He walked over to the kitchen.