| Title: Roadside Bet Series: The Bet Author: Jo & Brenda Pairing: Ben Roethlisberger/Matt Hasselbeck Rating: NC17 Summary: Ben and Matt go on a road trip. Disclaimer: Never happened Notes: Yurt!sex!!! All information on Harris Beach State Park and the yurts in question can be found here and here. And, um, did we mention the YURT!SEX!!!!
Which just went to show how much he really had to learn about...well, whatever Matt is. Ben's never had much use for labels, never done him a damn bit of good. He's just glad that he and Matt are giving this...thing...between them a real go. He waits by the bikes at the entrance to Harris Beach State Park, eyeing the lush foliage, flowers and trees bursting with color even though it's only April, and wonders what's taking Matt so long. How the hell hard can it be to rent a tent for the night, anyway? Just then, Matt steps out of the office, whistling a low tune. "C'mon," he says with a grin, heading towards Ben and the bikes. "Just a little ways over." "Took you long enough," Ben says, but he returns the grin and climbs back on his bike. "Miss me?" Matt looks over his shoulder, blue eyes twinkling, and takes off before Ben can reply. Ben glares at the dust from Matt's bike for a second before following. The dirt path off the main road winds and twists through a dense forest, then down another even smaller path that ends at a decent-sized clearing. When Ben turns off the engine, he can hear the crashing of the waves from the ocean. Matt unslings his saddlebags and turns around in a slow circle, then gives Ben a wide, dimpled grin. "Well, what d'ya think?" Ben looks around the campsite -- decent-sized, clean, firepit, picnic table...and the strangest looking tent Ben's ever seen in his life. Looks like one of those old-school teepees, only with...is that a hole in the top of it? And a door? "What the hell is that?" "That, my friend," Matt says, with an absolutely devious grin, "is a yurt." Ben blinks, stares at the building, then at Matt. "A what?" "A yurt. Come on." Matt starts for the door, saddlebags over his shoulder, still grinning. "A yurt," Ben snorts, as if that explains everything. The hell is a yurt, ferfucksake? Yanking his own saddlebags off his bike, he follows Matt, deliberately crowding him as the door opens. Matt turns, dropping his bags on the dirt-swept ground, and lifts an eyebrow. "Something you wanted?" The thing is, Ben actually had an answer to that question. But then Matt presses against him in a solid line of heat and, really, asking questions and demanding answers is pretty much the last thing on his mind. They can get back to this whole yurt business in a minute. "Yeah," Ben says, not really an answer, and pushes Matt inside, kicking the door shut behind him as his lips seek Matt's. That's more like it. This is exactly what Matt's wanted all day. Watching Ben on his bike, watching him walk around and stretch each time they'd stopped...it had all done little more than make Matt horny as hell. He dives into the kiss, one hand tangled in sweat-damp curls, body pressed tight against Ben's, and he's not entirely sure if the soft groan comes from his throat or Ben's. Not that it matters who's moaning, as long as Ben keeps curling his tongue exactly like that across his, and as long as Ben keeps pressing against him, muscles flexing with each step. They stumble over the saddlebags, Ben swearing under his breath, and they tumble in a pile of limbs and searching hands on the futon sofa that's not nearly big enough to hold both of them. Matt yanks at Ben's t-shirt, pulling it over his head as Ben slides between Matt's legs on the ground, surging up for another hard kiss. Ben's shoulders flex beneath Matt's hands as he runs work-rough fingers over as much naked skin as he can. Ben starts to tug at his shirt, and Matt's more than happy to help so they're finally sliding together, chest to chest, the harsh stubble of Ben's beard burning over Matt's skin. "Better," Matt growls, nudging Ben's chin up so he can slide his lips over warm skin, relishing the rough feel of bristly hairs against his mouth. Ben huffs out a soft laugh, hands sliding along Matt's shoulders and back. He grins, dips his head to bite supple skin when he hits a sensitive spot and Matt hisses. "Glad you approve." "Fuck..." Matt breathes, his own fingers dancing over Ben's chest and stomach as he surges back into another kiss, tongues tangling together. "C'mon...lift up." Matt obeys, automatically lifting his hips so Ben can unzip and tug his jeans down, surprisingly gentle hands sliding over his thighs. Matt half-bends over Ben, nuzzling matted hair, smelling sweat and cheap motel shampoo and the stale lingering scent of Ben's helmet. Ben lifts his head, the kiss just this side of sweet, at odds with Ben's hands as they drag through the hairs on his legs and up until he's cupping Matt's balls comfortably in one hand. Matt curses, hips bucking, and falls back on the too-thin cushions, banging his head against the wooden frame. The exclamation of pain turns into a groan when Ben slides a meaty hand up, long fingers curling around his cock. "Fuck...Ben..." "Getting to that." Another soft laugh, and this time Ben drags his hand up, wrist flicking as his thumb slides over the head of Matt's cock. He grins when Matt arches up, hands digging into the thin mattress. "Impatient?" "Tease," Matt growls. He lifts his head long enough to look down at Ben kneeling between his thighs. Then Ben flashes him a wicked grin and, still holding Matt's gaze, licks a long, wet stripe up his cock. Definitely a tease. Not that Matt has a problem with being teased like this -- with Ben's lips sliding, shiny with slick spittle, over the head of his cock, then down. Matt fists his hands in Ben's hair and holds on, relieved that he can make as much noise as he damn well pleases. Last night at the other campsite had been a disaster -- their site had been right next to a family of four, and they'd had to make small talk with star-struck parents and play catch with sweet, but rambunctious kids. And when he and Ben had finally escaped to their paper thin tent, they hadn't been able to do much more than give each other a fast, hurried handjob, muffling their moans in each others' mouths. But here, they had all the privacy and room they could want, and nothing but time. "So good," Matt murmurs, chin tilted down so he can watch the bob of Ben's head, the steady working motion of Ben's throat as his cock appears and disappears between eager lips. Gentle fingers slide along Ben's cheek, trembling a little as they curve over his jaw. Each bob of Ben's head, each slide of his lips, sends Matt spiraling closer to the edge. When Ben starts humming, Matt gives up all pretense of control. He bucks up into a warm, willing mouth, and lets his head fall back as his orgasm rips through him. Then it's Ben's turn to be gentle, assured hands and soft lips sliding along Matt's body, easing the tremors that wrack taut muscles. "Think you said something about being fucked," Ben murmurs, laughing softly against pebbled skin as his knee slides between Matt's and presses up. "Did I?" Matt asks, smiling a little without opening his eyes. Normally, he would give as good as he's getting -- neither of them's ever liked easy sex -- but he feels too damn good for a tussle. He grinds down on Ben's thigh, meeting the next kiss with a satisfied hum, tasting himself on Ben's tongue. When Ben pulls his hips to the edge of the sofa and nudges in two slick fingers, he lets his thighs fall apart. Relaxes and hisses his pleasure when Ben starts slowly scissoring his fingers, stretching him open. "You've got the best hands," Matt continues, murmuring the words, eyes still closed. His hips cant up, seeking more, and he groans his approval when Ben adds a third finger. "Best hands on the field," Ben jokes softly. "And off." "Mmhmm..." And just the way Matt is moving, all languid and slow, is too much for Ben's control. He surges up, lips covering Matt's in a tangled kiss as he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding home in one smooth thrust. Matt tightens around him, groaning into Ben's mouth as he starts to move, rocking his hips in time with Ben. No matter how many times Ben is here, buried deep inside Matt, with Matt gripping his shoulders and gripping his cock, it never feels quite real. Every sensation is too much, from the way Matt tastes, dark and addictive, to the glazed look in Matt's eyes at each thrust, to the tight heat pulling him even deeper, everything's too bright, too much. Strong fingers cradle Ben's shoulders with the same care used to cradle a football, and Ben reacts to the light direction, angling his hips to thrust even deeper, powerful thighs bunching with each slide. Matt opens his eyes, pupils wide and dark, almost obscuring brilliant blue, and urges Ben into another kiss, curling his tongue around Ben's, and the only sounds filling the room are the rhythmic sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and harsh groans as they move together. Ben slides a hand between their bodies, fingers curling around Matt's cock, and Ben dips his head to nuzzle sweat-dampened flesh. "Come for me," he murmurs, voice rough and throaty, as his teeth graze the column of Matt's throat. "Ben..." It's harsh, ending in a low moan, and Matt's entire body jerks when Ben's cock hits his prostate. Pleasure explodes up his spine. Feels like every nerve in his body is on fire, and Matt doesn't even try to fight it. He rolls with it, letting his orgasm wash over him, barely hearing Ben's low murmurs of encouragement in his ear. He's still floating when he feels Ben slide out of him, and he watches through lazy, slitted eyes as Ben jerks his cock twice then spills over Matt's stomach, come mingling together in a sticky, warm pool. "C'mere," he urges, sliding his hand through the matted strands of Ben's hair as he pulls Ben to him for a lazy, slow kiss. "Nice," Ben says, when he lifts his head to grin down at Matt. He sprawls on the futon, pressed tight against Matt's side, and lets his fingers trail over damp skin. "Mmm..." Matt closes his eyes. Damned if Ben doesn't have the best hands. His skin pebbles under blunt fingertips, and he half-opens his eyes again to peer up at Ben. "Definitely." A slow nod, and Ben watches his fingers travel over Matt's chest. Then he glances up, eyes sparkling, and a wide grin blossoms on his face. "The hell is a yurt, anyway?" Matt bursts out laughing. "Oh, man..." "What, I'm serious." "No, I know, but..." Still chuckling, Matt half rolls, pressing a kiss to Ben's shoulder. "You remembered to ask." "Well, not like I'm gonna forget, what with that big-ass hole in the middle of the ceiling," Ben retorts, wrapping an arm around Matt's waist to haul him even closer. "Better pray it doesn't rain tonight," Matt chuckles, forehead resting against Ben's shoulder. "Fuck off," Ben replies, but he's grinning. "It does, you'll be the one sleeping in the wet spot. Now stop laughing and tell me what it is." One hand waves in the air, weakly circling, and Matt does his best to stop laughing. It's an almost impossible task, though. "This," he manages, between chuckles, "is a yurt. Asian in origin...or Russian." "So it's a Russian tent, then." "Or maybe it's Mongolian, I'm not sure." "Same area, innit?" "You really did pay attention in college, didn't you?" Matt grins. Ben half-heartedly shoves at Matt's arm. "Fuck off, I didn't spend all my time chasing skirts." "Sure you didn't." Matt's still grinning, and he doesn't budge, one arm securely wrapped around Ben's waist. Ben gives another half-hearted shove. He isn't surprised when Matt retaliates, and they end up rolling off the futon, grappling for the upper hand. "Give up, ya bastard," Ben says, laughing and grabbing for Matt's wrists. "Not a chance," Matt replies, deftly avoiding Ben's grasp and shifting his weight so they roll again. They bang into the saddlebags, but Matt's had worse bruises in mini-camp. Ben tries to hook a leg around Matt's to pin him down, and Matt uses the distraction to wiggle from under Ben's hold and reverse their positions, flattening himself over Ben, pressing down with all of his weight. Ben tries again to knock him off and Matt shoves his forearm against Ben's throat, pushing in until Ben gets the message to stay still. "Much better," Matt grins, and sits up, straddling Ben's lap. "You're lucky I don't feel like moving." Ben stretches, lifting his hips slightly, muscles rippling under tight skin. And yeah, Matt knows Ben's doing in on purpose, just to tease him, but the view's nice enough, why the hell should he complain. "Not the only one," Matt replies and lowers his head, teeth catching Ben's lower lip for a bruising kiss. It's an hour later before they finally get around to thinking about going for a hike around the beach. By then, Matt thinks he's had all the exercise he really needs, but Ben had insisted and...well, Matt would never admit it, but he's definitely a sucker for big, hazel eyes and a boyish grin. "So where to first?" Ben asks, already out the door, both of them dressed for the weather in jackets, jeans and boots. Matt snags a tiny bottle of complimentary lotion he'd taken from their motel stay two nights before and tucks it into his jacket pocket before following. "Down that trail there," he says, "then along the beach for a while. If you're lucky, the whales will be out." "Whales?" Ben twists to look at Matt, all wide-eyes and a big grin. "Really?" "Really," Matt says, and steps close to claim a slow kiss. Ben smiles when he steps back. "Shoulda done this months ago, man." "Yeah, well." One of Matt's shoulders lifts in a shrug as he falls into step beside Ben. There's a lot they should of done different, but he'd like to think the end result would have put them exactly where they are now. The well-worn path down to the beach is littered with wet leaves and what looks like kelp of some sort. There are birds flying overhead, swooping to the waterline, then up again, calling to each other with lyrical notes. Sorta pretty, if one went for the whole bird thing. "Thought you said we'd see whales," Ben says, wind ruffling his hair. "What they told me when I checked in." "They say anything about sea lions?" Ben asks, and points just off the shoreline. Matt follows the direction of Ben's finger and nods. "Yeah, mentioned those. Kinda cute from this distance, aren't they?" "Noisy," Ben laughs as they stroll closer, stopping just short of the waves coming in. "Gotta couple little ones out there." "Yeah..." Something catches Matt's attention, and he turns his head. Without speaking, not looking away, he reaches over to lightly touch Ben's arm. When Ben glances at him, Matt points out across the water. "Look." The dying rays of the sun, just starting to sink over the horizon, flicker over the ocean in sharp prisms as the small family of whales breaks the surface. Matt holds his breath, hardly daring to even blink and he doesn't need to look to know that Ben's just as mesmerized. Hard to believe that anything so big could be so graceful and majestic. Geysers of water skyrocket into the air when the whales come to the surface again, greyish-brown backs barely visible. A flock of birds swoops down in a perfect arc, skimming the water just ahead of the whales, almost like they're guides or something. "Beautiful..." Ben breathes, eyes riveted to the scene. He feels Matt's fingers brush his, and Matt's hand twitches in response, but he doesn't look away. And Ben doesn't have to look over to see that Matt's attention is focused solely on the whales. Matt just nods, letting out a slow breath and drawing another. He doesn't have words to describe the scene, so he doesn't even try. He wishes he had a camera with him. Just one picture, man...there, as the largest whale breaks the surface of the water, tail creating a high arc of spray when it sinks again. They watch in perfect, reverential silence until the whales are long out of sight and the first of the twilight stars start to appear. Matt shivers, even though he's warm enough under his jacket, and feels Ben's fingers brush against his again. This time, he tightens his own around them. "C'mon," Ben says, and when Matt turns his head, Ben's smile is somehow different. Softer, maybe, not weighted with any responsibility. Makes Matt wonder what Ben used to be like, before he'd been forced into the role of leader. It's hard for Matt to remember a time when he hadn't been. The parking lot is just behind them, but Ben heads off along the rocky shoals, picking his way around pitfalls and lapping waves like he picks through a defensive line. It takes Matt a few steps to realize that Ben hasn't let go of his hand. "Playing the intrepid explorer?" Matt asks, voice soft and light, and he's content to twist his hand to lace their fingers together. It feels...good. Odd, but good. Ben smiles over his shoulder. "Something like that. Full moon tonight, so we shouldn't have too many problems." "Won't see much, either," Matt points out, but he doesn't mind following along, letting Ben pick out the trail when the path forks. "Hike's not always about seeing things." "What, you're a philosopher now?" Matt teases. Ben shrugs, and steps over a clump of rocks before heading down a slight hill. The trees crowd them from all sides, but it doesn't feel claustrophobic. "Took a few classes." His teeth gleam white in the shadows. "Lot you don't know about me." Matt considers that for a moment, then nods. He continues to follow Ben, picking his way in the growing dark. Be interesting to see where Ben takes them. "Guess that kinda goes both ways," he says, when he catches up and the path widens so they can walk side by side. "Yep." Matt waits. After several minutes, it's clear that Ben's not going to say anything else. "Care to enlighten me?" "Depends on what you wanna know, I guess," Ben says, and bumps Matt's shoulder companionably with his own. Matt bumps back and studies Ben out of the corner of his eye. It's a good question -- they really don't know each other. Which is what this trip's supposed to be about. "Tell me something I can't find out on ESPN," he finally says. "Not angling to be a fangirl, huh?" "Not exactly," Matt laughs. Ben's silent for a few minutes, and Matt looks around. Still nothing but shadowed trees. And what sounds like owls hooting up above them. They really could be the only two people in the world right now. "I wanted to be a teacher." "What?" Matt stops, and faces Ben. "Before I decided to make football a...career, I guess. I wanted to teach. Chemistry," Ben says. "No shit," Matt says, studying Ben's face. "What changed your mind?" "Good at what I do," Ben says, and ducks his head. There's no arrogance in it, just a quiet self-confidence. "You'd've been good at that, too." He smiles when Ben jerks his head up. "Yeah?" "You're good with the kids at all the charity things we do," Matt says, and shrugs. "Think you'd have been a damn good teacher." Ben smiles that same almost soft, boyish smile again. "Thanks, man," Ben replies, softly. "Sure thing." "What about you? What'd you want to be when you grew up?" "You mean other than a starting quarterback for an NFL team?" Matt jokes, forearm brushing Ben's with each step. "Yeah, other than that. There had to be something else, right?" Matt smiles, thinking back to when he was in high school. "Actually," he says, and glances over, "there was. I wanted to be an architect." "An architect, huh?" Ben grins, gently nudges Matt's shoulder. "Like building things?" "Designing them. Took a few drafting courses, too. Then the scouts came along..." He shrugs, spreads his hands, and Ben laughs. "The rest was history?" "Something like that," Matt replies. "Wouldn't trade what I'm doing now for the world, though." "Hell no." Ben's reply is vehement, heartfelt. "Sides," he says, and bumps Matt's shoulder again, "if you'd become an architect, you'd have never met me." "Oh, and that would have been a tragedy," Matt chuckles, and dodges out of the way when Ben reaches out to shove him. "Bastard," Ben laughs, and follows. They're equally matched, and he knows from earlier that Matt isn't above dirty tactics. But Ben stretches his arms out wide, and slowly starts to circle around Matt. "Looking to get pine needles in your beard, boy?" Matt asks, eyes sparkling in the shadows as he dodges again. "There're more fun ways of going about that, y'know." "Boy, is it?" Ben quirks an eyebrow, and jabs in again, dancing around on the balls of his feet when Matt retaliates. It's like his boxing class or ballet, but a lot more fun. "Term of endearment," Matt says, and grins again. Ben shakes his head, and swipes half-heartedly at Matt's chest, knowing it'll get knocked aside. "Not the way I remember it." "Oh?" Matt grins, and fakes a jab, just managing to duck out of the way when Ben reaches for him. "Yeah." Ben wades in again, having entirely too much fun to stop just yet. "Think I already proved I'm not a boy." "Ahh..." Matt draws out the sound, trying his best not to laugh. "We back to that argument again?" He evades the right cross that Ben blatantly aims at him, but fails entirely to keep an eye on the left hand. The slap takes him by surprise, the sound whip-sharp. Matt's head snaps back and he flexes his jaw, already feeling the burn. "Nice," he says with a rueful grin. "Not the only one can fight dirty," Ben smiles. "I hurt you?" "Nah. Pulled it, though, didn't you?" "Well, yeah." Ben shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, still smiling as he ducks his head to peer at Matt from under floppy bangs. "Just horsing around, not like I meant it." And a damn good thing for his jaw, too, Matt thinks. He grins and shakes his head, opening his mouth wide to pop his jaw. "I'd say you hit like a girl but you'd probably just belt me again." "Nah, I'd wait 'til you weren't expecting it," Ben retorts with a wicked grin. "'Course you would." Matt steps in, deliberately crowding Ben until he starts to back up. "How far you think it is back to our site?" Ben's grin slips, eyes immediately wary as he watches Matt like a hawk. "Dunno. Why?" Matt rubs his thumb over the bottle of lotion still in his pocket and gives Ben a wide, wicked grin. "Just making sure that we're not gonna be overheard is all," he says. Before Ben can even open his mouth to respond, Matt's mouth is on his, tongue sliding over Ben's bottom lip, coaxing them open so he can slip inside. Ben grabs him by the shoulders, jerking him forward, and Matt returns the favor, yanking on a fistful of Ben's hair to hold him in place. Feels like it's been weeks, instead of hours, and Matt's greedy for more. A little pushing and tugging, and then Matt maneuvers Ben back against the nearest tree. He breaks the kiss, breathing hard, only to bend his head and rake his teeth down Ben's throat. A throaty laugh as Ben jerks, then strong fingers curl around the back of his neck, yanking him up for another bruising kiss as he shoves his thigh between Ben's and presses up. Ben lets out a harsh grunt, and Matt takes it as an invitation to bury his tongue in the back of Ben's throat, barely restraining from the urge to start tearing at clothing. Instead he scrambles between them, unsnapping the button of Ben's jeans, then fumbling with the zipper, shoving them over muscled hips. "Matt..." Ben gasps, harsh and low when Matt's fingers close over his cock, stroke up once, then twice. "Matt...we don't..." "Shhh..." Matt murmurs, and urges Ben to turn and brace his hands on the tree trunk. "Trust me." He flips the cap of the lotion, pouring a healthy amount on his fingers, and bites down on Ben's ear as he pushes two fingers inside tight heat. "Fuck..." Ben's breath is harsh in his throat, and he can feel chips of bark beneath his fingernails when his hands spasm against the tree. Matt's fingers work inside him, twisting and scissoring, and Ben pushes back with a low growl. "Fucking hot like this," Matt murmurs, the words dark and hot in Ben's ear. He presses another finger in, then pulls back. "Look hotter with my cock in your ass..." "Just do..." The words trail off in a sound that's half moan, half grunt as Matt slides in to the hilt, and Ben lifts up to his tiptoes from the abruptness of the move. "Move with me," Matt urges, painting the words across the back of Ben's neck, and Ben shivers, pushing back with each hard thrust. It's not the most comfortable fit -- Matt had barely prepped him -- but Ben relishes the burn. Matt's cock hits his prostate with the next thrust, and Ben drops his head between his arms, huffing out another harsh breath as he rocks his hips back, meeting each slide. "Like that, yeah..." Matt's low words of encouragement send a thrill up Ben's spine. He shudders hard as Matt's teeth close over his shoulder. Each thrust, rough and near-brutal, shoves him forward, and he pushes back into them, fingers still clenched tight around the tree. Matt gives up all pretense at coherency, fingers gripping Ben's hips hard enough to bruise. He lets the tight heat of Ben pull him in, drown him, until there's nothing left but this moment, this need that claws at him each time they're together. When he comes, sticky and hot across Ben's lower back, he can dimly make out Ben's hoarse grunt. He feels a little guilty about not having even touched Ben, but he figures Ben probably hadn't even noticed and, in any case, he'd been a little too busy trying to keep his balance to worry about anything else. He slumps over Ben's back, mouthing his neck with wet kisses, and tries to breathe. Been a long time since he's gone three rounds in such a short span. "Definitely," he can hear Ben murmur, and he frowns. "Definitely what?" "Shoulda done this earlier." The soft words startle a laugh out of him, and he shakes his head where it rests on Ben's shoulder. "You wanted to get fucked up against a tree earlier?" "Not that," Ben says, voice rich with amusement. "Getting away from everything. Spending a little time together." With more than a little reluctance, Matt pulls back and zips himself back up before trying to help Ben with his jeans. "This isn't gonna be a Kodak moment, is it?" "A what?" Ben pauses in the act of cleaning off his back with a corner of his t-shirt and gives Matt a confused look. "You know...a special moment." "You mean a Hallmark moment?" Ben laughs, and rakes a hand over his head, hair sticking out at odd angles. Makes him look about twelve. "Man can't say he's enjoying himself without being accused of sissy shit?" "Just making sure," Matt replies with a grin, quickly stepping back out of Ben's reach. Then he moves back in close, hands reaching for Ben's head. "C'mere, man, you're a mess." "Hey!" Ducking out of the way, Ben looks at Matt. Then, suddenly, a wide grin blossoms on his face. "Now who's being girly? Trying to fix my hair. Really." "If you wanna look like you've just been fucked within an inch of your life, that's up to you," Matt retorts, changing the intended caress into a swipe across the back of Ben's head. "Fuck off, who's gonna see me, it's dark out," Ben says, and ducks out of the way. He's still grinning. "Admit it, man, you just like playing with my hair." Matt snorts and starts off through the trees again. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to. "Only reason you grow it long like that is 'cause you know the curls make chicks crazy." "Duh." Ben smirks when Matt glances over his shoulder. "Makes you crazy, too." "Wouldn't go that far," Matt says, with something he hopes is a bland smile. He suspects he doesn't come close when Ben just continues to smirk. "Always got your hands in it." "Uh huh." Evade and fall back. "Whatever you say." "I do." Ben had almost forgotten how much fun it was to tease someone that gave back as good as they got. "Why'd you shave yours anyway? Going bald?" he teases, jogging to catch up with Matt to see his expression. Matt just raises an eyebrow and gives Ben a level look. "Bald is sexy." "Uh huh." Before Matt can react, Ben reaches over to rub his hand across the top of Matt's head. "No stubble there." "Fuck off," Matt says, and laughs even as he reaches up to catch Ben's wrist. "Least I don't look like a baby lion half the time." "Rawr." Matt looks at him blankly for a second, then bursts out laughing. The sound sends a pleasant shiver down Ben's spine, as do the crinkles around Matt's eyes. "What can I say, I'm an animal," Ben continues, with a calculated shrug that would fool no one. "I'm gonna remember you said that," Matt chuckles, and slings an arm around Ben's shoulders. "Now, how the hell do we get back to our tent?" "Yurt. It's a yurt, remember?" "Fast learner, aren't you?" With a quick grin, Matt ruffles Ben's hair. "Now...how do we get back?" "You tired already?" Ben shakes his head, the perfect picture of sympathy. "Didn't think you were that old, man." Matt just raises that eyebrow again. "Not tired," he murmurs. "Just wanting to get you behind closed doors so I can get you naked." Even though Ben knows he should be sated, he can't help the stirring in his blood at Matt's words. Two months without this has felt like a fucking lifetime...but it doesn't mean that anything between them's really changed. "Think you're up for another round, do you?" he murmurs back, neatly pirouetting so he's blocking Matt's path. This close, Matt's eyes glitter silver. "Unless you don't think you've got the energy to take me on," Matt smirks, stepping forward, taking the bait. Ben rakes his gaze over Matt's body, lingering at his hands and crotch. "Professional athlete, remember? I could keep pace with you all damn night and not get tired." He knows Matt'll take the challenge for what it is. Matt smiles, slow and wicked, and takes another step forward until his chest just brushes Ben. The heat that snaps between them is enough to take his breath away. "That so?" Ben nods, teeth flashing in the darkness. His eyes never waver from Matt's, and he doesn't back down. Doesn't need to. Long lashes sweep down to cover Matt's eyes for a moment. Then he pins Ben with a gaze that's pure predator. "Care to make a small wager on that?" Ben smiles, slow and wide. Just the opening he's been waiting for, and damn, but he's missed this. They're so close that they're sharing breaths, but it's not nearly close enough. Ben hasn't had enough. He leans in, cupping the back of Matt's head with one hand. "It's a bet," he smirks, and seals the latest bargain with a kiss.
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