Free Candy Man by Amy Lane Page B

latch, sending Adam flat on his back with Finn on top of him. They lay there, surprised, smiling at each other, groin to groin. Adam groaned and rocked his hips up, the better to push against Finn, to ease that pain. Finn’s delighted smile sobered, grew serious, and he took Adam’s mouth again with as much passion as intent.
    Adam slid his hands from Finn’s back down under his waistband. He dug his fingers into the muscles of Finn’s ass and pulled down, thrusting his groin up against Finn’s while Finn continued to explore his chest and, oh God, his sensitive, sensitized nipples.
    He brushed them a couple of times with his thumb, and Adam groaned some more, pulling harder. Through the plackets of their jeans, he felt Finn’s no-bullshit erection, and just the thought of Finn desiring him made him even harder.
    The kiss went on, and Finn stopped brushing Adam’s nipples and started pinching.
    A sound that wasn’t entirely human ripped from Adam’s lungs.
    He arched his back and ground up against Finn so hard it actually hurt, right in his throbbing balls, but the pain was enough.
    Adam’s orgasm washed white-blind behind his eyes, and he sobbed for breath inside Finn’s mouth as his hips thrashed, caught between the seat and Finn’s unyielding body.
    He must have hit Finn just right, though, because he moaned softly, buried his face in the hollow between Adam’s head and his shoulder, and bit Adam hard on the side of the neck. The edge of pain, Finn’s mouth on his skin, that was enough to send Adam off again, shaking, his come flooding his underwear, making it sticky and cold within moments.
    Finn collapsed weakly on top of him, panting in Adam’s ear. “That’s probably a good place to stop,” he muttered.
    Adam nodded, dazed, disoriented from the force of desire and raw need. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. He moved his trembling hands from Finn’s ass to the back of his head so he could smooth his hands through that curly hair again, feel the silk of it between his fingers. “Probably best,” he said, lost in the comedown. He opened his eyes enough to take in the surroundings—the dark interior of the minivan, the glare of the streetlight from far away, the stoop of Rico’s apartment building, where no lights were on.
    The hopeful glint in Finn’s eyes as he stared at Adam and willed him to come back to ground and acknowledge what they’d just done.
    Adam closed his eyes and kissed Finn’s forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that, Finn?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You’re like magic. Like… like a magic potion, like green goop.”
    Finn choked, his breath tormenting Adam’s ear, and Adam wished they were in a bed or something so he could see Finn’s eyes, that amazing blue.
    “No,” Adam explained. “See, when I was a kid, if we skinned our knee, got a sunburn, whatever, Rico’s mom had what she called green goop. It was, like, aloe and lidocaine. It was great shit, you know? Cured all ills. Nasty burn, get the green goop. Fall off your bike, get the green goop. Well, you’re like that, but better. You’re like green goop for my heart, you know?”
    Finn made a suspicious sound. If Adam didn’t know him, didn’t trust him, he’d say it was laughter. But because he did know him, he knew that it was more like tears. “Those are really good words, Mr. Cartoon Man. I wish you could draw those words for me.”
    Adam smiled because he knew he’d done good. “I’ll try. I’ll bring the picture by tomorrow.”
    Finn kissed his cheek, and then kissed his temple, and then kissed his forehead. And then he pushed himself up on his elbows and kissed Adam briefly on the mouth before rolling over and maneuvering himself into the driver’s seat. Adam pulled the lever and shot the back of the seat straight up, so he had to manipulate it a bit so it wasn’t absurdly upright. Finally he was ready to go, with his hand on the door handle and everything.
    He and Finn met eyes, and he wondered if