disclaimer: use of all characters without permission and all made up by me
note #1: I keep thinking this is over, and Norman keeps leaning over my shoulder, whispering more ideas in my ear.
note #2: thanks to cherryscott for beta/opinions. Oh, and for saying, "there should be more smut."
Travis shoved his hands in his back pockets, staring at the truck as the moving men opened the back doors. “Excuse me,” one of them said, brushing past him.
“Oh, right, sorry.”
“You okay, mister?” The other man said.
“That’s my cow,” he said, motioning to the back of the truck. “I mean, I designed it.”
“Gotcha,” the first man said with a smile. “Wanna give us a hand? Help your girl down the ramp?”
“Sure,” Travis said with a shy grin. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, then walked up the ramp to help the men slide the sculpture onto the wheeled cart and down the ramp to the ground.
He knew how lucky he was. Because of the sponsor of his particular work, the cow was placed in a prime location: on the grounds of the state capitol building itself. Only one other cow had that honor, and Travis knew it was a big deal. Hundreds of people would see his work, and that wasn’t even counting the people who would end up doing art walks and tourist visits, just to see as many of the sculptures as possible. Eva had suggested that he have business cards made up with his name and phone number on them, for her to hand out if anyone stopped by the office to ask about him. He thought it was a crazy idea, but he had spent the money and done as she said.
“We’ll take her from here, thanks,” the moving man said. “Good work, Son.”
“Thanks,” Travis said, watching the cow get pulled away to its spot on the south lawn of the building. The cow would remain there for the six weeks the sculptures were on display, and then an auction would be held. Companies and sponsors could buy back their cow, or it could be sold at auction, with all proceeds going to various charity and non-profit organizations.
Travis whirled around and saw Greg Stillson standing a few feet behind him on the sidewalk. Travis tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. He was still incredibly hurt and angry at Greg and the way he had treated him, but the man was gorgeous, and totally took his breath away. Today he wore a silvery grey suit with a white shirt and grey tie. His shoes shone with polish, and every hair was perfectly in place, as usual. He looked tall and thin and delectable. “Good morning, Senator,” Travis said politely.
“You’re up and around early. Aren’t you a fairly late sleeper?” Greg asked, clapping Travis on the shoulder. His eyes drank in every inch of Travis’ body, from the battered sneakers to the baggy camouflage pants and black tank top. The tank top defined Travis’ broad shoulders and thick biceps. Greg smiled into Travis’ eyes.
“Yes, but I knew she was getting unloaded today.” Travis motioned towards the cow with his head. “Wanted to see her one last time, while she was still mine.”
“You put a lot of yourself into your work. Good to see.” Greg let his hand briefly rest at the nape of Travis’ neck before letting go. “Thanks again for your effort and your time. You’re one helluva artist.”
“Thanks. I was inspired,” he said, and Greg smiled arrogantly.
“Well, I’ll see you at the reception, then, in a few weeks?” Travis nodded. “I’m sure you’ll clean up nice and respectable, won’t you?” Greg raised an eyebrow to show he was kidding. “I need to get in there and spend some tax dollars. You take it easy.”
“Yes, Sir. You, too. Bye.” Travis watched Greg walk up the steps of the building, allowing himself one last long look before turning around and walking away.
Travis stared at his computer and blinked. He then logged off the Internet and completely logged back on again. Still there. He grinned and kissed the monitor, rubbing it lovingly. The last payment for the cow, sitting right there, in his bank account. He stood up, stretched, and went to the stereo, turning it up. He then yanked off his shirt, slipped out of his shoes, and started mixing paint.
Two hours later, he was startled out of his reverie by a knock at his door. He turned down the music and padded over to the peephole in bare feet. His eyes widened and he madly looked around the room. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, finally just giving up and opening the door. “Uh, hi.”
“Hello there, Travis.” Greg Stillson sauntered into the apartment. “Mind if I come in?”
“Uh, sure. C’mon in.” Travis stared after him, finally remembering to shut the door.
“Nice place. Just like what I’d expect from an artist,” Greg said, looking around at the messy apartment. “Lots of windows.”
“Natural light,” Travis said. He looked down at himself in dismay. His hands, arms, bare chest and feet were splashed with paint, as were his jeans. “Um, did we have an appointment or something, Senator, that I forgot about?”
“No, Travis, don’t worry.” Greg turned to look at him. He wore a Georgetown University sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, and still looked like a million dollars. “I was just in the area, thought I’d stop by. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Just, uh, doing some work.” Travis motioned to the large canvas in one corner.
Greg wandered over. The painting was mostly blues, purples and greys, abstract swatches of color with a blurred figure in the middle. “I love the shading,” he remarked. “You were wrong when you said you weren’t talented doing regular painting. This is very interesting.”
“Thanks.” Travis bit at a fingernail. “Can I get you something? Something to drink? I have beer, water…”
“No, I’m fine.” Greg came over to stand in front of him. He reached out one long finger and followed a line of blue paint that trailed from Travis’ neck to his stomach. “Tell me, Travis, do you always paint half-naked?”
“Pretty much so, yeah,” Travis said, determined not to let Greg have the immediate upper hand. He knew there was no way Greg had just been “in the area.” He wanted something. Not that Travis wasn’t hungry for it as well, but he wasn’t going into it as innocently as he had the last time. “Why? Does it bother you?”
Greg’s eyes narrowed a bit at the cocky tone of Travis’ voice. “Just wondering.”
Travis went back to his supplies and began to rinse some brushes. “I don’t normally get a lot of visitors, so I figure it doesn’t really matter, you know. My place and all.”
“Right.” Greg walked over, standing right behind Travis without touching him. “Do you mind that I stopped by?”
Travis swallowed hard. He could smell Greg’s cologne, feel the heat from his body. “Of course not. Always a pleasure, Senator.”
Greg planted a row of kisses along the line of Travis’ shoulder. His hands rested at Travis’ waist, pulling Travis back to settle against him. “You definitely are a pleasure, Travis.” He bit down at the side of Travis’ throat, and was rewarded with the sound of a low whimper.
Travis finally gave in. He was not going to turn this away, even after the way he had been treated the last time. Greg couldn’t kick him out of his own apartment, and the sex HAD been amazing. He reached up one arm, reaching behind Greg’s head to fist his hand in Greg’s short hair as he rocked his body back. He turned his head, blindly searching for Greg’s mouth. Greg chuckled a bit, then kissed him, his tongue hot and slick against Travis’ mouth. “Bed?” Travis finally murmured.
“What’s wrong with right here?” Greg turned Travis around, hands sliding over Travis’ back as they kissed. “I have no problem taking you on the floor.”
“Fuck,” Travis hissed. “Supplies…near the bed…”
“Why don’t you go get them…and undress the rest of the way on your way back?” Greg suggested, nipping at Travis’ earlobe. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” He pulled away, tugging the sweatshirt up over his head.
Travis allowed himself a moment to run his hands over the smooth torso, his fingers loving the tight muscles that rippled under the tan skin. He then backed away, trying not to trip over anything as he headed to the drawers under the bed. He found a condom and some lubricant and quickly came back. He saw Greg’s eyes flick to what he held, and Travis smirked inside. Greg didn’t need to know that Travis had tossed the condoms in the drawer recently, and that the lube was for when he needed to take care of things himself. He dropped the tube and the condom to the floor, and undid his jeans, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
Greg watched as Travis stripped off his jeans, smiling as the pale skin was revealed. He slowly undid his own jeans, kicking off his sneakers before sliding the denim down his legs and slowly stepping out of them. He fondled himself absently, eyes running over every inch of Travis’ body. Travis walked over to stand in front of him. “Like what you see?” He asked, hands lightly trailing down Greg’s stomach.
“Hell, yeah,” Greg murmured. “Like to see it better with you on your knees, though.”
Travis raised an eyebrow. He really shouldn’t be shocked at the other man’s arrogant attitude, but to be honest, it was an incredible turn-on. “I’ve never done that before,” he admitted as he gracefully fell to his knees. His tongue licked at the hand that held Greg’s cock. “But I’m a fast learner, I bet.” He took the throbbing head into his mouth, licking at it slowly before cautiously sliding his mouth down further.
Greg’s hands fisted in Travis’ hair as he hissed in a breath. “You learn any faster and you’ll be the death of me,” Greg moaned. Travis was careful, Greg noted, keeping his teeth out of the way and taking slow, tentative licks and sucks. He finally couldn’t take it any more, and pulled Travis back by the hair, sinking to his knees in front of him. He kissed Travis, tasting the lingering salt of his own skin on Travis’ mouth.
He lay Travis down on the paint splattered tarp, loving the way the spilled paint seemed to set off the light tones of Travis’ skin. “You’re gonna get…paint all over…” Travis panted.
“I don’t mind getting…dirty…” Greg whispered, his voice husky and dark as he lubed up two fingers and slowly slid them into Travis one by one. Travis moaned, arching up to meet the thrusting digits even as his body winced at the pain. “Relax,” Greg said softly.
Travis dug his hands into Greg’s biceps, squeezing slightly. “I don’t think you came here looking for a slow, leisurely fuck, did you, Senator?”
Greg’s eyes narrowed as he looked into Travis’ face. The innocent lamb was no longer there. Something else lurked in the pure blue of Travis’ eyes, and it lit a tiny fire in Greg. “No, Travis, I sure didn’t.” Greg pulled back to slide the condom on, making a show of stroking himself. Travis watched Greg’s elegant hands, licking at his lips unconsciously. Greg bent Travis’ legs, placing Travis’ feet flat on the floor. He grabbed Travis by the waist, sliding his hands under Travis’ ass and arching him up so he could slowly slide inside.
“Fucking hell,” Travis breathed, eyes fluttering closed.
“I definitely didn’t come here for anything slow,” Greg taunted, hands clenching at Travis’ hips as he allowed the younger man a brief moment to adjust. “But I did come here for a fuck. And you…are a really…really…good one.” He punctuated the sentence with short thrusts of his hips once he started to move.
Travis arched his back, his body scrambling to meet each deep stab of Greg’s cock. His dislike for the other man flew out the window, and was replaced by the incredible lust he felt every time he laid eyes on him. One of Greg’s hands slid down Travis’ stomach, and when Travis looked down, he saw a streak of purple marking his skin. “Am I your art?” Travis breathed.
Greg grinned. “Hell, yes. My own fucking creation.” Greg slapped a hand on the tarp, then brought it up and around the side of Travis neck, leaving a smear of blue in its wake. He then kept the hand at Travis’ shoulder, pushing Travis down to meet every thrust.
“Not bad…for an amateur,” Travis said with a sly grin. Greg growled and went in as hard and deep as he could, making Travis howl with both pain and pleasure. One of Greg’s hands moved to stroke Travis’ cock.
“Tell me, Travis, have you ever had your skin stained with both paint and your own come?” Greg said, his voice low and demonic. “I’d love to see it.”
“Fucking Christ…” Travis whined, and Greg only stroked harder. Travis writhed beneath him, hands clutching at Greg’s skin as he came, shooting up onto his stomach.
“Beautiful boy,” Greg whispered. He released Travis and grabbed him at the waist again, grunting as he continued to move inside. “So…fucking beautiful…” He closed his eyes as he came, gasping for breath and collapsing onto Travis.
Travis lay panting for breath, welcoming the weight and warmth of Greg’s body but wondering what the hell had just happened. Greg could get a piece of ass ANYWHERE. Why had he come to HIM? He decided to take the upper hand and wiggled himself out from under Greg. He sat up, took a few deep breaths, and stood, immediately going for his cigarettes. He lit and inhaled, still totally naked, then went to a basin of warm water he kept in case of a serious paint spill. He sponged himself off with a clean rag, then pulled his jeans back on. “Bathroom’s through there, if you want a shower or anything. I was gonna order in some Chinese for myself. You’re welcome to stay and eat if you want.” Travis kept his tone casual and noncommittal. Greg WAS welcome to stay. He wasn’t going to kick him out, yet there was no begging, no pleading in his voice.
“No, thanks. I have some things to do, errands and such.” Greg quickly got dressed.
Travis hid a smile, knowing there was no possible errand Greg could have in his part of town, except for fucking Travis. “Okay, then. Thanks, uh, for stopping by. I guess I’ll see you at the charity dinner in a few weeks.” Greg almost seemed uncomfortable, though he hid it well.
“Right.” Greg wasn’t sure what to say. Travis was not quite the shy and innocent boy Greg had originally met and seduced, though he was still lurking in the corners of the blue eyes. Greg smiled at Travis, who smiled back. “I’ll see you then.” Greg let himself out, deep in thought.