Nothing Special (Nothing Special 1)

Day tracked God as he stalked around his bedroom. The room was large, taking up most of the upper floor after he’d had one of the walls removed to connect both bedrooms. One side was a sitting area with a large flat-screen television, a dual reclining micro suede sofa, and his record player. In front of a bay window there was a moderately sized desk with a spotlight lamp attached to it where he built his model cars. The finished ones were in a large china cabinet downstairs in his den.

Day lay back and watched God remove his holster that held a very large and manly weapon. Day was a slut for beautiful weapons and God definitely had one. It was a Desert Eagle .50 AE with an interchangeable .44 Magnum barrel and black Micarta grip, and it was a force to be reckoned with. Day had jerked off more than once to thoughts of God holding or firing his weapon. Not just any man could wield a weapon like that. Day didn’t care if that made him a nut with a seriously kinky fetish… to each his own.

God pulled off his shirt, his large chest muscles now on full display, and at some point he must have removed the wrapping Jax put on his ribs. The sparse patch of hair in the middle of his pecs made a silky, narrow trail down his ripped abdomen and disappeared into his jeans. Day made a mental note to lick his way down that treasure trail as soon as possible. God slowly undid his jeans and slid them down his thighs, never taking his eyes off Day. When did he become a fucking tease? Removing his jeans and boots at once, God stood before him naked as the day he was born.

Day’s mouth watered at the fully erect eight inches of cut cock pointing toward him, just begging to be licked, sucked, and fucked; Day was just the man for the job. Day couldn’t stop his huff of annoyance when God turned to walk into the other side of his bedroom, the sound causing him to pause and turn to look at him.

“Are we getting a little impatient, sweetheart?” God lifted one side of his mouth as he spoke.

Day groaned, but shook his head no. He didn’t know what kind of torture God would put him thorough if he didn’t behave. God’s ass was just as muscular as the rest of him. Give me strength.

“Good. Because I don’t like being rushed,” he said nonchalantly and continued to Day’s prized record player. In memory of his father, Day probably had one of the greatest jazz collections known to man and they were all vinyl, many of which he acquired at auctions. He was missing only one very special album he’d yet to find for sale.

He watched God flip through a few records before pulling one. He slid the vinyl out as carefully as Day would before placing it on the turntable. Soon Day’s room was filled with the soft sounds of George Howard’s Midnight Moods. It was a smooth, sexy jazz album; definitely one for making love to.

Day’s heart clenched. God didn’t want to just fuck him; he wanted to make love to him. Damn, it’d felt like ages since Day had done that. Not since college if he were being honest with himself. He’d loved his college sweetheart, but they’d never actually got to the lovemaking part, since his college sweetheart was straight. But now he’d have the chance. Day reclined, letting the soft soprano sounds of the saxophone add to his euphoria.

He opened his eyes when he felt the bed dip from God’s weight. God positioned himself on top of him and pulled the covers up over them, stopping at their waist. Jesus Christ… and under the covers too. Day’s breathing picked up quickly as he stared into his best friend’s face. They stayed like that for several long seconds, communicating silently. This was it. This was where there relationship changed from friends and partners to lovers. Were they ready for this? Is this what they truly wanted it to be from now on?

Yes, they thought in unison.

“Kiss me, Cashel,” Day whispered.

God lowered himself fully on top of him and damn if all that muscle didn’t feel blissfully heavy. God’s kisses were so tender and soft that Day was swooning after only a minute. He never would’ve imagined rough and tough, bad-assed God could be so gentle. Their lips grazed back and forth over each other’s, nipping lightly.

“Open,” God moaned.

Day opened his mouth and his legs nice and wide to accommodate his lover. They kissed and rocked together, neither one seeming to want to rush things. God grabbed one of Day’s thighs and pulled it up to his waist, wrapping it around his back, then did the same with the other. God was so large Day could only just hook his ankles together. God’s elbows were braced on either side of his head. When he pulled back from their long make out session, that heat was shining in God’s eyes again.