written July 12, 1998
Kermit rolled over casually, sliding his right hand under the pillow to grasp the gun he kept there for just such occasions. Making sure that his muscles still looked relaxed in sleep, keeping his breathing deep and even, he listened intently.
There was definitely someone in the bedroom.
Interesting. Whoever it was was good, very good -- no one should have been able to get through his security measures and make it this far. He couldn't hear anything, either; he could just feel the bastard, waiting.
He shifted again, just a restless sleeper trying to get comfortable, and when he settled again he was on his side facing the intruder's general position, gun aimed and ready under the pillow.
"I can think of better things for you to point at me," said an amused voice.
Kermit sat up, sheet falling to his hips, glaring at the young man he could barely see in the dimness. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he demanded, fear at almost having shot him and relief at not having shot him mixing and coming out as fury. He didn't put the gun down.
"You wouldn't have shot me," Peter said, confidently.
"Don't be too sure," Kermit snarled. "I may still change my mind. Now, if you don't mind, I was trying to get some sleep." He shoved the gun back under the pillow, laid down, and turned his back on the younger man, putting up the biggest "do not enter" signs he could manage while naked and vulnerable.
A thought occurred to him and he sat back up again, staring at the figure that hadn't moved during all of this. "And just how the hell did you get in here, anyway?"
"Kermit, c'mon, it's me," Peter pointed out. "Shaolin, remember? We can walk through walls."
"You can not walk through walls."
"Well, no," Peter admitted, the boyish grin clear in his voice, "but it sounds impressive as hell, doesn't it? Let's just say security systems don't exactly pose much of a problem for me any more."
"Yeah, well, that's wonderful for you. Good night." Kermit thumped the pillow a couple of times and slid back under the sheet, determined not to give in to whatever it was Peter was doing. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out."
So what if this was exactly what he'd been wanting Peter to do practically since he'd met him. It wasn't like the kid was going to fulfill the rest of the fantasy, so best just to ignore the whole thing.
After a few minutes of determined silence, he gave up. Sitting up again, he drew one knee into his chest and rested his arm on it, looking over to Peter. "You're not going to leave, are you?"
"Mind telling me why?"
"Because you don't want me to."
Kermit froze. He let out a careful breath, saying evenly, "I seem to remember telling you to leave several times, Pete."
"I know," Peter agreed easily. "But you don't really want me to, do you?"
"What are you doing here, Peter?" Kermit's eyes had adjusted to the near-total darkness as far as they were going to, and still all he could see of the other man was a shadowy figure against the wall. He had the very uncomfortable feeling that the dark wasn't keeping Peter from seeing anything, and only stubborn pride kept him from pulling the sheet up to his neck like a frightened virgin.
"I was meditating," Peter said softly.
Kermit waited, then asked, "Yeah? And? So you were meditating."
"Yeah. It's a funny thing about meditation. You think you're not thinking about anything, but somehow you wind up figuring out stuff about yourself you never did before. And stuff about your friends. And stuff about you and your friends."
Kermit swallowed, the sound much louder in the stillness of the bedroom than he would have liked. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And when I came out of the meditation, all I wanted to do was come here, and see you."
"So you've seen me."
"For the first time, I think," Peter agreed.
Kermit swallowed again, not believing this. "Peter..."
Suddenly the shadow by the wall was a solid presence by the bed, and Peter was close, too close.
"Shhh. If you really want me to go, I'll go. But I'd rather stay."
"Then... stay," Kermit said huskily.
Peter drew in a sharp breath and reached out a hand to brush Kermit's cheek lightly, then swiftly stepped back and started stripping. Kermit watched the dark blur become a pale blur as fair skin was exposed, wanting to see more but not daring to turn on the light. If this was a dream, the light would banish it, and he didn't want to lose it that easily. Silently, he held back the sheet as Peter approached the bed, moving over to give the other man room to slide in beside him.
"It's all right," Peter murmured, and reached for him, and Kermit knew it wasn't a dream. He could never have imagined the skill in those fingers, tickling and soothing and arousing all at the same time; the warmth of that mouth as it learned all the different tastes of him, and kissed him to share what it had discovered; the comfort of the hard cock as it pressed so confidently into his thigh. Kermit lay helpless beneath the onslaught of all that happy, focused affection, and laughed for the sheer joy of it all.
Peter swooped in to kiss him again, swallowing his laugh into his own mouth then returning it in full measure, his delight as great as Kermit's. Kermit launched an assault of his own as they separated for breath, determined to learn Peter's body as well as Peter had learnt his. His hands found the sensitive spot on the side of Peter's ribcage, and he discovered that tongueing it would make the younger man squirm and gasp. He was ticklish behind his left knee, and nipping the inside of his thigh brought curses and pleas and a hand tangled in Kermit's hair. Peter was a feast to be savored.
He gradually worked his way back up to the waiting mouth, and they lost themselves in hungry kisses for a while, hands moving constantly on one another. Peter's hand wrapped around Kermit's cock, and Kermit gasped and bruised the younger man's mouth in a desperate kiss as he reached down to return the touch. Mirroring each other's actions they stroked and pulled, rubbed and petted, lips and tongues moving across one another's faces now.
Kermit wanted more, though, and wriggled until he was lying on top of Peter, aligning their cocks with his hand. Letting go, and pulling Peter's hand away as well, he leaned up to look down into the pale face below him, the eyes huge black pools. He smiled and slid his hands carefully underneath the broad shoulders, bracing himself on his elbows, then started to thrust steadily. Peter moaned and thrust up against him in return, and they settled into a hard, fast rhythm. Kermit could feel the pressure building, too fast, but too sweet to deny, and tensed as he thrust one last time, gasping out Peter's name as he came, pouring forth over the pale belly and dark groin. He leaned forward to kiss Peter, finding a hot tongue invading his mouth as hard hands clamped onto his ass, holding him still for Peter to thrust against, until with a muffled cry the younger man tumbled over the edge.
Realizing that he was probably a bit heavier than most of Peter's partners, Kermit rolled off him as soon as his muscles agreed to cooperate, but before he could go far a strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him close. Peter stroked his chest lightly for a minute, then said quietly, "If you really want me to go, I will. But I'd rather stay."
Kermit smiled into the dark. "Then... stay."
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