"You might as well go ahead."
Apollo froze, eyes open in the dark. They were lying back-to-back under Midnighter’s trench coat, huddled together on a narrow strip of ground between two dumpsters. As usual, their proximity was causing a tension in Apollo's groin that he took every possible pain to conceal. For the past hour he had been waiting for the sound of Midnighter's breathing to deepen in slumber, giving him the chance to slip away for a few minutes and take care of things. Not that the gratification was ever complete; sex was only the smallest part of what he craved from Midnighter.
Caught off-guard, he tried to give a decent impression of bemusement. "Go ahead and do what?"
"I can hear you, you know," said Midnighter, stifling a yawn. Was it wishful thinking on Apollo's part, or was Midnighter making a deliberate effort to sound casual? "You're not as quiet as you think. You've been getting up every night for the past month and slipping away somewhere to beat yourself off."
He grinned with helpless embarrassment, even though Midnighter couldn't see his face. "You mean you've been eavesdropping?"
"I didn't say that I wanted to listen to you beat off." His words were defensive but his tone was still casual, neutral. "My hearing's been enhanced too, you know. You can't move without waking me up. I can even hear your blood-flow change when you're ... You know."
"Well, I don't know if I can - I mean, if you're just going to lie there and listen."
Midnighter didn't answer, and Apollo lay there, wondering what to think. Replaying this very strange conversation in his head, he tried to guess what Midnighter was getting at. He wasn't acting annoyed with Apollo's night-time habits - hell, he had to be doing the same thing himself occasionally, unless Bendix's surgeons had cut that out of him. He seemed to want Apollo to know that he knew, for some reason. Apollo had a guess as to what that reason might be, but he didn't trust his own judgement; his guess tied in too neatly with his wishes to be really reliable.
Thinking along those lines, he realized that he should have phrased his last reply differently; to his own mind, he sounded as if he had been asking Midnighter for something.
The tense silence was broken by a rustling, a movement, and the next thing Apollo knew, Midnighter had thrown the trench coat off himself and shifted onto his back. Then there was some more movement. Apollo swallowed, held his breath, looked over his shoulder; Midnighter had his fly open and his cock exposed, sliding his hand slowly along his stiff length, up and down, up and down, from the thick-veined base to the head.
His own restraint was now absurd, and there was nothing to do except follow suit. He quickly pushed the heavy leather coat aside and lay on his back next to his partner, freeing his own stiff erection.
They worked at it wordlessly for a few moments, the only sounds coming from them their breathing and the rhythmic sound of skin stroking skin. Each had the sense that they were building towards something other than orgasm. Midnighter's free hand fumbled for Apollo's hip and rubbed it, the smallest finger working its way into the groove at the top of his thigh, that crease of flesh that led to its termination in Apollo's groin.
Suddenly, Apollo flipped onto his side, grabbed Midnighter and held him tight. As they pressed together, rubbing frantically, their lips met, mouths opening and tongues coiling like amorous snakes. Midnighter came first, pressing hard from groin to mouth, his teeth scraping against those of his new lover. Apollo could hear as well as feel his heart racing, thudding against Apollo's chest with alarming speed.
Midnighter's orgasm shuddered to a halt and they lay still for a moment, Apollo waiting to see what would happen next. Then Midnighter released him and he wanted to protest, his hard-on straining towards Midnighter like an unfinished bridge. But Midnighter just reached down to fiddle with his pants, pushing them down further to expose the tops of his thighs. Then he grabbed Apollo's erection, hitched himself closer, guided Apollo between his thighs and squeezed.
Apollo groaned and began to thrust, breathlessly meeting Midnighter’s kiss. Midnighter whispered, “Don’t be in such a hurry, let it last a little while,” so he made himself slow down, timing his thrusts to a tempo just beneath the speed that would make him come. He drew out the thigh-fucking for as long as he could stand it, arms around Midnighter, Midnighter’s around him, amazed by the softness of the skin covering those powerful thighs. He came at last, spine making a bow that forced his head back, the skin of his throat stretched tight beneath Midnighter’s kisses.
They lay for a little while afterwards, not quite relaxed; there was a slight tension about them, as if each expected a separation but neither was sure who would begin it. Eventually, still in each other’s arms they found the courage to make eye contact. Then they kissed for a while, quite comfortably, until Midnighter reached around Apollo and grabbed his trench coat. They pulled it back over themselves and slept, face-to-face, wrapped gratefully around each other, shielding each other from the night with their bodies.
~fin~
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