Hazardous edges

                           

Hazardous edges
He knows he can carve in his way into him.
He knows he can embrace him and Ray will know.
They will both know.
 

*
“You forgive me, hmm?”

Ray asks quietly, panting just as Sand meets him there, mid thrust. 

It’s hot and desperate where they didn’t take all their clothes off.

They made their way into Sand’s place, then his room. Both sober after a day that felt like a date, even though it wasn’t.
It took less than Sand himself expected, maybe it was Ray’s hand on his thigh or his voice, sweet and quiet…or Ray’s eyes, inviting. Sand couldn’t resist those eyes.
It gets hot and messy quickly with Sand pushing Ray into the bed, and Ray welcoming him, with a satisfied smile. It feels way too familiar, even though it is the second or third or fourth time they’ve done this.

They are not laying on an expensive couch with soft rock music playing in the background, but Sand manages to feel more at ease in the solitude of his room.

And it is also somewhat tender by the way Ray is keeping his hands around Sand’s neck while they kiss.
And the hands caress the hair at the back of the head. Like saying “is fine” “I’m here” “you’re doing great” 

It doesn’t get too awkward when Sand realizes he doesn’t have lube around, Ray only laughs quietly before saying “It’s fine” and spitting into his own hand to then caress Sand’s dick with it.
Which is so uncharacteristic of rich boy Ray but Sand finds that spontaneity hot enough to feel at edge.
 

Ray’s hands are storytellers. Sand had learned.
One simple touch; a hand around his waist, a hand on his shoulder, or a hand on his back, dragging his fingers in a tortuous yet seductive manner, forming a pattern. So familiar to Sand.

When he feels the touch around his neck, is only natural to feel overwhelmed and he gets lost for a moment, his movements become erratic in response, in and out of Ray, just like they both like it.
The question asked lingers in the air and Sand closes his eyes. 

But Ray is relentless, and moves with him, just like he always does when he gets too into the moment and  is eager to get the best out of Sand fucking him. The movement of his hips match Sand, he meets him halfway in a salacious dance.
He still pants. If Sand opened his eyes he could see that Ray’s hair is a mess, wet and all over his forehead. But his eyes are closed and he can only focus on the warmth that comes from in and out of Ray. He is so tight around him. Sand can barely hold it in anymore.

“Do you forgive me?” 

Ray repeats. More desperate. Less like a horny plead and more like a cry for help.
Sand has to open his eyes.
And when he does he is rewarded -or cursed, depends on how he decides to feel about it later- by the sight of Ray completely undone, under him.

“What Am I gonna do with you Ray” he says, slowing down in his movements, taking one hand and cradling Ray’s face. 

“What am I gonna do with you” he repeats while his thumb brushes Ray’s cheeks. 

The question is rhetorical, and not entirely sincere. He means to ask instead “what am I gonna do without you Ray?”. But he doesn’t think he knows the answer. And he doubts Ray wants to give him an answer either. 

“Kiss me” Ray says suddenly, taking him out of the trance.

 So Sand complies.

And then, he feels warm and loose when Ray kisses him back.
The kiss disarms Sand deeply. Like always. And in between the hunger and desperation of that kiss he can hear Ray moaning into his mouth. He sucks into Ray’s bottom lip in a desperate effort (he asked to be kissed, so Sand will kiss him).

Sand wants to say so many things. He wants to do more.
He wants to trace his fingers into the delicate skin of Ray’s hips and shoulder blades, in soft and almost invisible caresses, but Sand also wants to devour him, consume him till there is nothing of Ray to haunt him.

It is complicated. 

His thoughts are complex and to dwell in that complexity mid fuck is too much for Sand, maybe if he were high…but he wasn’t. Not enough anyway. 

Ray smells sweet enough though and he buries his head on Ray’s shoulder. 

Usually he would finish and Ray would finish too, with the biggest smile he can manage and Sand would think Ray is beautiful but he won’t kiss him because he isn’t sure Ray would kiss him even though he is still high in ecstasy. 

It is complicated.

But this time he comes with his face still buried on Ray’s shoulder, grunting, nothing ceremonious about it, and Ray seeks the friction between their bodies, it seems, but when Sand moves his head from where it hides… he sees Ray’s dick is coated in cum already and when he faces him there is something…

“I’ m sorry” 

Ray apologizes, but it is strange and uncharacteristic of him and out of place. It sounds sad, too sad to be an apology for having come. 

And as Sand moves, he trembles; his body already missing Ray’s but he looks at him as fast as he can. Afraid to forget his face, despite all he wanted moments before was to truly forget him. 

Ray is looking at him, with his eyes wide open, face flushed red. Sand catches a tear forming in those eyes. The glint in his eyes is beautiful.

“I’m sorry Sand” Ray repeats, his voice sounds exhausted. 

That isn’t beautiful.

Sand only nods but he believes he could cry. Ray doesn’t cry in that moment so Sand is composed, even though his limbs feel jittery and he would rather look anywhere else but Ray, even if he contradicts himself again. He doesn’t look away, because Ray is blinding even when he is gloomy.
 

And it is still so complicated. 

He chooses to lay in silence, he even closes his eyes.

Later, maybe a couple of seconds, a long instant, he feels the bed moving and he knows Ray is about to drape and arm around him and throw a leg over him, and use him. 

 Instead he is surprised with the soft caress over his temple and then his cheek, like he is barely being touched. It feels nice, the touch is almost heartbreaking. If he were to open his eyes and look at Ray, he would crumble. So he doesn’t. But he allows himself to lean into the touch, just a bit.
Ray’s hand keeps touching him, and it feels like an apology more than the words he muttered earlier.
And none of that makes things easier but Sand understands. 

He understands that these are the hazardous edges. And to be able to carve his way in, he has to accept the pain that comes from everything, even the tenderness that Ray offers him in a quiet moment like this.