Please see Part 1 for disclaimers and archiving information.

"From The Top", Part 30/33
By Clotho (clothomoerae@hotmail.com) and Cathy (huntersglenn@yahoo.com)

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Dave opened his eyes.  The drapes were drawn but the room had the luminous brightness that said snow was falling outside.  Somewhere off to Dave's left Carter was breathing.  The sound came slow and steady and reassuring. 

Dave counted idly.  This was the fifth morning in a row he'd woken with Carter next to him.  Fifth?  He wasn't sure, and counted again.  There had been Wednesday night -- after the eval, when Carter had arrived in those boots.  Dave grinned to himself in memory -- those boots had been something.  And Thursday night after the hockey game.  And Friday night when Carter had arrived after midnight waking him up.  And last night, Saturday night.  Four nights, not five.

Four nights broke every record that he'd ever set in his life.  Even without them all being in a row chicks had never lasted more than two.  Dave set that thought aside -- lying here in the early morning was good.  He didn't want to think about chicks and that Carter was a guy.  He just wanted to lie there listening to Carter's slow breathing.

Dave glanced over at the clock and realised that the alarm would start buzzing any second.   He disentangled an arm from Carter and reached over to get it in a preemptive strike.  Neither of them was on the 7 to 7 shift today -- there was no need to wake up -- however convenient it would be if Carter did.  But...he was lying there calm and quiet -- a far cry from his distressed attitude two nights ago.  The guy had enough bad things in his life right now, there was no need to wake him out of what looked like being a very nice dream.  And besides, they'd been on different shifts yesterday and Carter had come by about 1am, waking Dave up again -- it had been worth waking up for though. 

Dave lay.  He was awake now, and didn't think he'd be going back to sleep.  The minutes ticked by -- the blinking four on the clock face turning to a five then a minute later a six then eventually back to four then five again.  Dave didn't usually stay in bed doing nothing -- but this was good in a quiet and unusual way.  Dave stroked a bit of hair off Carter's face.  He was getting hungry.  Once the thought had passed through his head he realised he was getting hungrier and hungrier.  He felt close to starving.  Breakfast was necessary -- if he lay here forever his stomach would start grumbling and wake Carter.

Breakfast would be good. Very good.  Dave began to seriously disentangle himself from Carter.  The taller man had such a nice, lean, sensuous body that Dave thoroughly enjoyed each element of the exercise, and thinking about what the bit of Carter that he was currently moving past looked like.  All too soon it was done, and Dave was out of bed.

Breakfast, breakfast was next.  He could have cereal or pancakes but...again he didn't want to wake Carter -- and today didn't feel like a cold cereal morning.  Dave padded to the window and looked out.  Snow was falling softly -- so softly it looked almost like gravity had been turned off for the flakes.

Dave smiled, suddenly knowing what he was going to do.  There was a bagel shop three blocks away.  He could get freshly baked bagels for breakfast.  That would be something that Carter would think it was worth waking up for.  Anyone would. 

Dave gathered up an armful of clothes and went to the living room to get dressed.   Five minutes later he was walking out in the chilly morning air.  The coldness forced him to an alertness that he hadn't had inside, and Dave breathed in deeply -- then out -- watching as his breath condensed in the frosty morning, then he began to stride down the sidewalk toward the bagel shop. 

There was scarcely anyone or anything moving at the moment -- the streetlights were still on and there was only a hint of daylight in the snowy sky.  It felt almost like Dave was the only person awake until he saw the yellow light spilling from the bagel shop's window and began to smell appetizing scents: cinnamon and raisin and sesame seed and jalepeno peppers.  Dave tried the door but it wouldn't open -- and when he looked closely at it he could see a sign announcing that it didn't open until 7 on Sundays.   Damn.

Dave stamped his feet twice, and rubbed his hands up and down his arms.  He wasn't going to stand here for the next ten minutes or so.  He didn't want to go home either -- not without breakfast.  Maybe twice around the block would do it -- or something like that.

Two minutes later Dave began to hear cars.  He automatically turned his footsteps in the direction of any sound on this strange, still morning.  And then, quite suddenly, found himself part of a small trickle of people walking toward a church.  Dave followed them in -- if nothing else the church would be a warm place to wait, but even as he did so he knew he'd get caught up in the early service.

He automatically knelt to pray as soon as he entered, and felt abruptly stupid.   There didn't seem to be anything to say that wasn't counteracted by what he'd done last night -- for the past few nights.  He didn't want to leave though as the smell of the slightly musty hymnbooks was as comforting and familiar as an old sweatshirt.   And when the first hymn was announced he stood up and flipped to the correct number, to a song that had always been one of his favourites.

The sermon was on a prophet not being received in his own country.  Dave didn't listen beyond the first few words.  If these people had known what he'd done with Carter he was sure that they wouldn't have given him those tentative smiles as he entered.   He wouldn't get to walk away like Jesus had -- he'd get thrown off the cliff.   Dave wrinkled his nose at the analogy -- did that mean the church was his country or not?  Whatever?.  Didn't matter.  He wasn't a prophet anyway -- what would his message be -- feels good to have a guy stick his dick up your ass?  Not likely.  Not likely at all.

Dave's good feelings about the morning abruptly withered and died.  He didn't walk out.  Father Frank hadn't liked it the few times he'd tried, saying it was distracting the other worshipers.  Not at all.  God, he couldn't think about Father Frank now.  Not after the last few days.

Dave fixed his attention on the church and its fittings.  It was warm, he'd come here for a place to be warm for a few minutes.  That was allowed.  That was good.   Churches were supposed to be a place where you could be -- where the shit of the world didn't hit you.  A time-out.  He could handle that.

And suddenly the service was over.

The priest smiled warmly as his hand was wrung.  "Dave, isn't it?"

"Uh, Yeah."

"Good to see you again."

Dave made his getaway as fast as he could.  He was most of the way home before he remembered the bagels, and backtracked to the shop where he picked up two each of cinnamon raisin, tomato-onion, and jalapeno. 


John rolled over and his eyes jerked open as his arm landed on a cold sheet.  He blinked in the early morning light, wondering where Dave had gone to.  The sheet was very cold, with no lingering warmth, so Dave hadn't just gotten out of bed.  John got to his feet and grabbed Dave's bathrobe, wrapping it around his body and tying the belt.   It was snowing again, but John didn't bother to take the time to admire the flakes as they drifted past the window.

He went to the living room but Dave wasn't there.  Not in the bathroom, either.   John paused there for a call of nature, then went to the kitchen.  Again, no Dave, and that was beginning to scare him.  There was also no coffee made either and he pushed aside his fears long enough to decide that he needed the coffee so he could think clearly.  He started to open cabinets as he looked for the coffee and instead he found the bottle of whiskey.  John sighed and shut that cabinet door, then opened it again and looked hard at the bottle.  Hadn't there been more in it the other night?  Not that it mattered.  Dave was a grown man and certainly deserved to be able to have a drink or two of his own whiskey from time to time.  John shrugged it off and continued his search for the coffee.  He had finally found it when he heard a key in the lock and he went to the doorway of the kitchen just as the front door opened.

Dave stepped in, he caught Carter's eye for a second then averted his own.   "Breakfast," he said, handing Carter the bag of bagels, before overbusying himself in taking off his snowy coat.

John opened the bag, taking a deep breath of the still warm bagels, but Dave's presence and the enticing aroma didn't take away his earlier fear.  "Smells good.  I was just about to put on some coffee.  You've been gone a long time," John evenly said.  He really had no idea just how long Dave had been gone, but the bed had been *cold* and there had been no note and that made John feel disoriented.

Dave shrugged, and bent to take off his snowy boots.  He was hit by a mild wave of panic -- he couldn't tell Carter that he'd been to church, he couldn't.  It would be as bad as the people there knowing what he'd done with him.  He couldn't tell.   He didn't want the people there somehow telling Carter that he was evil for doing...stuff.  He bit his lip and fumbled with his laces.  "It's snowy out there."

John frowned as he watched Dave trying to take off his boots.  "Your hands must be frozen," he said as he placed the bagel bag on the counter.  He then walked over to Dave, kneeling down in front of him.  "Let me," he said, pushing Dave's hands out of the way.  The melting snow was cold under his knees, but he had been right about Dave's hands -- when he touched them they had been as cold as ice.   John shook his head.  "Don't you have gloves or mittens?  You can't go out in the snow for a long time without adequate protection, Dave," John gently scolded as he began to unlace Dave's left boot.  "We'll need to get you warmed up just as soon as we can get you out of these wet and cold clothes."

Dave shrugged.  "It's not far."  He had had mittens.  They'd just come off in church, and never made it on again.  He shivered as Carter touched him through the heavy outdoor clothes.  It just wasn't fair or right for Carter to make him react like this.

"Far or not, you still needed them.  This boot is unlaced, try to lift your foot out of it."  John had to switch to a one-knee-on-the-floor position in order to keep the boot still while Dave moved his foot.  The cold from Dave's body and clothes wafted toward him, going straight through -- and under, the bathrobe.  But John could handle a little discomfort until he had Dave warm again.

Dave lifted his foot out of the boot.  In spite of himself, he was a little amused.   "Carter, I *can* take boots off by myself."

"Right," John scoffed.  "Your hands are too cold to undo the laces."  John set the boot aside, then scooted backward a bit into the entryway.   "Step over here so you won't get your sock wet and stick out your right foot."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Carter."  But Dave did as he was told.  Carter in mother hen mode was a strange combination of disturbing and amusing.  And besides the view of Carter he got wasn't bad either!  The trouble was, *him* liking the view was bad.  Dave shook his head to try and dislodge those thoughts.

John had a bit more trouble with the laces on the right boot.  They were soaking wet and not being very cooperative.  "Did you stick your foot into a snow drift or something?  These laces are wet but the others weren't.  You know, you could have woken me up.  I would have gone with you to the bagel shop.  We could have even eaten breakfast there."  And then you wouldn't have been gone for so long, John thought.  You wouldn't have left me alone.  "Finally," John muttered as the laces started to give.  Once more John had to hold on tightly to the boot.  "You can pull your foot out now," John said, just as the tie on the robe decided to come undone.  John was stuck.  If he took his hands off the boot to retie the belt then Dave's foot would remain in it, if he kept his hands on the boot then he was running an increasing risk of exposing himself to Dave.  Normally -- who was he kidding, he thought?  It was only normally since he'd been with Dave -- that wouldn't have been a problem.  But this morning...Dave had left him alone.  And that seemed to make a difference.

Dave pulled his foot out.  "You were asleep."  His voice softened a little, almost accidentally.  "Looked tired."  Then firmed again.   "Besides only found out when I got there that it didn't open till 7."

"Oh," John said as he set that boot aside.  He got to his feet, finding he was standing very close to Dave.  "I guess you couldn't help it if you had to wait."  And then John remembered the time on the clock when he woke up and he frowned again.  "Wait a minute, it's after eight.  You were in the bagel shop for over an hour?"  John knew he sounded unbelieving, but...but, Dave had been gone a long time.  Too long for just going out to get bagels.  And he had left him alone, just as Adam had on so many nights and mornings.  He had certainly never thought that Dave would leave him behind while he went out to God only knew where.

Dave shrugged, and stood straighter.  "It was cold.  Went for a walk.   That coffee ready yet?"

"No."  John walked into the kitchen.  Dave expected him to believe that he had been walking for a fucking hour? "I had just found the coffee when you came in."  John grabbed the ends of the belt and retied it, pulling it tightly and doing a double knot.  He stood in front of the counter and picked up the can of ground coffee, then put it back down and turned to face Dave.  "You went walking for an hour in the snow?  And you couldn't leave me a note to let me know you had gone?  Do you know what it was like to wake up and find you gone?"

"Carter!"  Dave didn't know where this had sprung from.  But he didn't want to see the look that would come to Carter's face if he said he'd been to church.   He knew how dorky it sounded, and...."Don't you want a bagel?"  Dave picked up the bag hopefully and opened it in Carter's direction.

John set his lips firmly together as he stepped over to the bag.  He reached in and grabbed a bagel.  "I'm going back to bed where it's warm.  Or should I say, at least where *my* side of the bed was warm."  He stalked out of the kitchen and to the bedroom.  He shoved the bagel in his mouth as he fumbled with the belt, letting the robe fall to the floor once it was undone.  He crawled back into the bed, now even the sheets on his side of the bed were cold.  But he stubbornly refused to get back out to put on clothes or the bathrobe once again.  Instead he lay there shivering, the only warmth coming from the cinnamon raisin bagel.  Angry with Dave for leaving him for over an hour and angry with himself for being angry with Dave over something as stupid as *that*, John bit off a chunk of the bread.  It was good, he had to admit that much.  But it didn't make up for being left alone.

Dave's eyes followed Carter as he left the kitchen, but his feet stayed firmly where they were.  This wasn't how he'd half imagined it to be when he got back.  Dave put the coffee into the machine.  Carter would have been drowsily half-awake and welcomed him with a kiss.  A good kiss.  And...Dave felt his groin react at the thought.   Damnit.  This shouldn't be happening.  He wasn't too sure which bits shouldn't be happening, but it shouldn't be like this.  It just shouldn't.  He reached into the cupboard and grabbed his whiskey bottle and took a comforting slug, then a second.  It would be okay -- coffee and bagels and Carter had gone back to bed.   It would be okay, it had to be.  Dave reached into the bag and grabbed a bagel at random.  It turned out to be tomato onion.  It was good and warm.  It was a good bagel shop.  And before it was half eaten the coffee was ready.  Dave poured it into two mugs, and carefully carried them and the bagel bag through to the bedroom.

John had been unable to avoid the aroma of the coffee as it was made.  But he wouldn't get up to go get any.  Even if it would go nicely with the bagel, which he was slowly nibbling away on.  And then Dave was in the bedroom, two mugs of coffee in his hands.  John looked up at him, then rolled over to face the wall.  "You didn't get any cream cheese," he said, pouting.  And he felt like kicking himself for having that much of a reaction.  As he had lain there smelling the coffee, John had decided that if Dave could be so coldly detached about his morning 'walk', then so could he.  But that had dissolved the minute he looked at Dave.   The pain over being left behind and then most likely lied to returned and John had lashed out with the cream cheese comment. In his mind's eye he could so clearly see the hurt in Dave's eyes as he had said that, and John didn't want to cause Dave hurt of any kind.  "It's good anyway," John said to the wall, hoping that would take *some* of the sting out of his earlier comment.

Even sulky Carter looked quite as delectable as any bagel.  Dave half recoiled at the cream cheese comment, but then grinned -- however sulky Carter was sounding he was sounding that sulky in Dave's bed so he couldn't *really* mean it.  Moreover Dave saw the robe on the floor -- Carter was naked in his bed.  Dave's cock leaped in response to that thought.  He threw the bagel bag onto the bed, and put his own coffee on the nightstand before climbing in behind Carter.  "I'll get some next time."

"Will there *be* a next time?  You weren't out there seeing someone else were you?  It wouldn't be the first time that someone left me waiting in one bed while they were screwing someone else in another one."  At least that's what Adam used to say he was doing.  He would wake John up to tell him he was leaving and to wait and then when he showed up over an hour later there would be the smell of sex on him.   And Adam would laugh at him and rub it in his face that he had just been with someone else and what was John going to do about it?  Nothing, that's what.   Because no one else could ever want damaged goods.  So John kept his face toward the wall as he asked the question, not wanting to be looking at Dave if the answer turned out to be 'yes'.

"What?  No."  Or Dave didn't think that Carter would call God somebody.  And anyway he didn't want to think about God right now. "No."    He wanted to think about Carter and his smooth white skin, and how soft and yielding he'd be against Dave's cock.  Dave snuggled behind Carter, and put his arms around him and began to nibble on his shoulder.

In between nibbles Dave spoke.  "It's cold out there.  Snow's coming from the sky.  It's falling slowly.  The flakes are big and fluffy.  I caught one on my hand.  It was soft and white.  Almost as soft and white as you."   Dave gave an extra hard nibble at that comment, moving his arms and rubbing his rough outdoor sweater over Carter's chest.  "And all the time I was out there.   You were here.  Soft and warm and white.  And snow's soft and cold and white."

Dave pulled down on the shoulder, wanting Carter to lie flat.  "Come here."   He nibbled and kissed it again.  "Roll over."

"You really didn't go out to fuck some other guy?" John asked, knowing even as he asked the question that he was behaving like a lovesick fool.  Dave would never do that.  John rolled onto his back, but he kept his eyes averted.  "Then where were you?"

Dave moved to get one leg across Carter, then returned to kissing and nibbling the shoulder.  "Went for breakfast."  He moved slowly across Carter's body until his body was covering it, with his head at chest level.  "You were asleep.   So soft and warm.  Didn't want to wake you."  Dave licked Carter's chest.  "Watched you fifteen, twenty minutes.  And you just didn't wake up."  He nipped on a pec muscle to punctuate that last comment.

"But..." The things Dave were doing to him made it very difficult for John to think about how long it took Dave to get breakfast.  Dave's clothes were no longer chilled, and the sweater felt rough over John's belly and against his cock.  Which was starting to come to life due to what Dave's mouth was busy doing.  Still, he tried.  "It took an hour to get the bagels?  Where is this bagel place?   Indiana?"

"Few blocks down." Dave began licking a spiral in toward Carter's left nipple.   He, himself, was hard, very hard.  He needed Carter to respond to him.   He needed to lose himself inside Carter.  "You.  You're soft and white.  But you're an anti-snowflake.   It melts.  And then it's gone.   But you stayed inside soft and warm and didn't melt at all."

As John felt Dave's tongue tickle his nipple, he couldn't help but reach up to grasp Dave's shoulders, holding him in place.  As pleasure radiated outward from that nipple, John moaned and he raised his head to watch Dave's tongue lap at him.   "Dave..." he breathed.

Dave grinned his success at finally getting a response, but immediately moved off that nipple and started work on the other one.  He wasn't going to ask for sex, not after Carter's sulks just now, the guy was going to have to beg for it.  He wiggled slightly in his position on Carter and felt to his delight that Carter was getting hard, too.  "Yeah.  You stayed here all cozy and warm and naked.  And I went out in the snow to get us food.  Me.  Caveman Dave."

When Dave wiggled, John gasped as it made that wonderful sweater rasp against his erection.  Between that and what Dave was now doing to his other nipple, John was finding himself very glad to be warm and soft in Dave's bed.  He threaded his fingers through Dave's hair as he moaned deeply.  "If you're 'Caveman Dave', then what am I?"  John asked as he tried to move his hips to once more feel that friction against his aching cock.

"You're..." Dave didn't know what Carter was.  "You're mine." Dave thumbed first one nipple then the other in quick succession.  "Mine.   Mine.  Mine."

"Oh, God..." The stimulation to his nipples was intoxicating.  "Don't stop.  That feels so damn good.  You're making me get harder and harder, Dave.   Please don't stop."  John couldn't help but wiggle his body underneath Dave's, trying to get as much of his nipples in front of Dave as he could.  His cock was aching and John needed to come.  He was half tempted to slip a hand between their bodies but he remembered that his cock belonged to Dave.  No other hand was allowed to touch him, to bring him off.  But he needed to come.  "Dave..." John groaned.  "I need to come."

Dave grinned wider.  He needed to come too, but he wasn't going to let it happen just yet.  Not when playing with Carter was so much fun.  He abruptly stopped thumbing the nipples and growled "You're mine," before giving the right one the lightest of all possible nips.

"Yes," John gasped out.  "All yours."  His fingers tightened in Dave's hair and a voice in the back of his head warned him that he might just end up pulling out all of Dave's hair.  But John didn't care.  He needed to hold Dave in place and make sure that he didn't stop what he was doing. And yet his cock was so hard.  So very, very hard.  "I need...God," a strangled cry came out of his throat as spasms of pleasure ripped through John's chest.  "Yes!"

Dave heard the change in Carter's voice and began to suck on the nipple Carter was holding him to.  Suckle it, and tease it, and do all he could to give Carter pleasure while a hand searched for the other one so it, too, could be teased.  Both at the same time, so neither would be neglected.  Dave couldn't afford to neglect any part of Carter, not for a second or even a millisecond.

John's head was thrashing back and forth on the pillow.  He had never felt this aroused from nipple play.  He had come close to it many times, but never quite like this.  John was unable to tell which nipple was responsible for the pleasure points that were exploding in his brain, the one with Dave's fingers worrying it or the one in Dave's mouth.  Maybe it was both.  John's eyes squeezed shut as he felt a heat begin to build in his groin, deep within him.  He was going to come.   "Dave...I'm going to..." John never finished the sentence.  Instead his mind went blank as the familiar redness seeped through his brain.  Trapped between his body and Dave's sweater, John's cock erupted even as Dave continued to play with him.

Dave sucked savagely as he felt Carter try to thrust upwards.  This had to be good for Carter, it just had to be.  It had to be the best he'd ever felt.  He needed to make both nipples so large and hard.  As large and hard as the cock that was thrashing between them, seemingly with a life of its own.  When it stopped moving Dave slowly released the suction and kissed each nipple lightly in turn.

John's heart was beating a thousand times per minute and he breathed heavily as Dave eased up on his nipples.  As Dave kissed them, John opened his eyes and slowly smiled.   "I think I messed up your sweater," he said.

Dave felt disappointed.  He didn't want Carter to be thinking about his sweater.   He didn't care about the sweater.  He cared if Carter had had a good, no scratch that, a great time.  Dave rubbed his head over Carter's chest and tried to keep the hope out of his voice.  "That good?"

John laughed.  "Is that good?  You made me come without either one of us touching my cock and you ask if that's good?  I think it's fucking fantastic."   Since John had never let go of Dave's hair, he pulled Dave's head up and raised his own, straining to meet Dave's lips and barely making it.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Dave felt a smile stretch so far over his face it felt it would fall off the edges.   "You liked it?"  He wanted the kiss Carter was offering, he needed it -- suddenly realising that he hadn't had one yet today.

"I loved it, Dave." John let go of Dave's hair and grabbed him by his sweater, pulling him up over his chest.  "Much better," John murmured as their lips finally met.  John thrust his tongue inside Dave's warm mouth, tasting coffee and tomato and onion and something else John couldn't quite place, but he didn't care.   It was Dave's taste and John was sure he'd never get enough of kissing Dave.

To be continued