The clatter of dishes and shouting of staff in the kitchen was almost deafening. The chaos and cacophony were made that much greater in comparison to the calm, quiet atmosphere of the dining room just beyond the doors swinging behind the man dressed all in black. Surveying the white clad figures and gleaming stainless steel, Karl smiled. Two Urban Licks was an official success.

Owning his own restaurant had been Karl's dream since he was old enough to fix his first bowl of cereal. Tonight marked the one year anniversary of the realization of that dream. The young boy in New Zealand would never have guessed that life would carry him to the other side of the world, but Atlanta had welcomed his unique, upscale restaurant with open arms.

It was generally held in fine-dining circles that the first year would either make or break a new restaurant. Karl wasn't certain he had taken one deep breath in the last 365 days. The critics had blasted him for forgoing the lucrative Christmas season and opening with a gala "invitation only" bash on New Year's Eve, but as soon as they got a peek at the well guarded interior and inventive menu, their criticisms had turned to praises, "less flirty and more feisty" and "offers a meaty feast for the appetite and the eyes", were two of his favorite comments from recent reviews. Customers had lined up at his door in droves.

Tonight, New Year's Eve again, they were celebrating their one year anniversary with a packed "reservations only" crowd. Walking skillfully among the staff without impeding their progress, Karl sampled random dishes, patting shoulders and offering praise. No comment or touch he offered was false. If you received a commendation, you had earned it.

Pushing through the doors at the opposite end of the kitchen, he entered the cooler corridor that led to the bathrooms and offices in one direction and the bar in the other. Making his way back towards the dining room by way of the bar, Karl collided with a group of chattering waitresses.

"Did you see him?"

"God, how could you miss that voice?"

"I swear I melted into a steaming pile of goo."

"Fuck if Craig isn't crowing over him being seated at his table. Bastard."

None of the excited women seemed to notice that their boss was standing dumbfounded in the middle of their group as they flowed around him like a rock in a stream, completely unnoticed. "If you wouldn't mind me asking," he began in a controlled voice with just an edge of danger, "exactly what has you all swarming and chattering like a gaggle of geese, and ignoring our customers?"

If Karl expected that his question would send them scattering back to their duties, he was mistaken. They turned on him like ants spying cake crumbs at a picnic, all talking at once, their excitement rising with each statement.

"Sean Bean is at table three."

"He's here doing a limited run of 'Macbeth'."

"It's the London cast."

"Did you see his eyes?"

"Oh my God, it was like he could see right through me."

Karl stood, mouth hanging open, stunned as the women shifted seamlessly back into their own conversation, completely ignoring him and their jobs. He shook his head, his brows drawing together in confusion. He had specifically hired mature, level-headed, well-educated people at all levels to avoid this kind of giggling nonsense. Thank God, Craig had the poor man's table. He had served Brad Pitt two months ago and hadn't even blinked.

At that moment, Craig sailed into the hallway, flushed and out of breath. "Oh my God," he squealed, hugging Liv, who was closest to him. "How am I going to keep from drooling on his food?"

'So much for composure,' Karl thought, throwing up his hands.

On the verge of losing his temper, Karl spotted Miranda approaching. With gently guiding hands and a soft smile, she divided the "gaggle", sending them all off to do their jobs.

"How do you do that?" Karl asked his sister with an incredulous look.

Turning the soothing smile on him, Miranda wrapped her hands around his arm, steering him towards the dining room. "It's my job. You hired me because I'm good at it. I'm not going to tell you how I do it. Then you'd be able to get rid of me and train someone else to handle your staff. Now what has you so tense tonight, little brother? Not that you aren't usually tense, but tonight I do believe you could bend steel," she muttered, squeezing his clenched bicep through the expensive custom tailored jacket and silk shirt.

"I don't know. Apparently someone named Sean Bean has shown up and cast a spell on my staff. Tonight is not the night for this to happen," Karl complained.

"Sean Bean? Is here? In Two Urban Licks? Tonight?" Miranda asked, her eyes bright.

"Oh God, Mir, not you too?" Karl looked like he was about to panic. "Who in the fuck is this guy?"

"Oh Karl, don't be stupid. Have you ever known me to lose my head?" Karl shook his head. "Good, quit panicking, okay? If you'd ever stick you head outside this restaurant, you'd know who Sean Bean was. He's been in three or four major movies just this year. He was also in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy I've tried to make you watch for three years." Miranda emphasized her words by poking her brother's shoulder with her finger.

The pair paused at the archway between the bar and the main dining room. "There he is, right there." Miranda nodded discretely towards an elegant blond dressed impeccably in a black suit and dark shirt. One hand was comfortably holding a glass of neat whiskey and he was gesturing with it as he talked.

"That is no hobbit," Karl commented, sounding slightly dazed. It felt like someone had sucked all of the oxygen out of the room and he was feeling slightly light headed.

Miranda laughed, a knowing look on her face. "No, he played Boromir, the steward of Gondor. You read the books, right?"

Karl nodded, his eyes still riveted on the man across the room. "They said he was here to play Macbeth?"

"That's what I heard. He's the real deal - stage, movies, TV. He's not just a pretty face." Miranda gently propelled Karl into the dining room. "Go make sure everyone is happy. I'm going to make a circuit through the back."

Karl continued to examine the man that had single-handedly disrupted his precisely run business. He wanted to glare at him, but instead he found himself fascinated by the way the cloth of the man's jacket pulled tight over his broad shoulders. The blond directed the conversation at the table like an experienced conductor. Everything about the man was alluring. The table broke into raucous laughter precisely on cue and the actor leaned casually against the back of the booth he was standing beside, a satisfied smile curling the corners of his mouth. Looking up, his eyes caught Karl's and he stilled, the amused look being replaced by more than a casual perusal.

Seconds ticked past, neither man breaking the link between their eyes. Karl moved first, tearing his glance away to focus on the table nearest him. With a smile and jovial greeting, he heartily patted the back of Michael Vick, the Atlanta Falcon's starting quarterback. Even though his back was facing the intriguing actor, Karl could feel his unrepentant appraisal. With an involuntary shiver, Karl forced his mind to focus. His single-minded determination had gotten him this far in a cut throat business. It could get him through the night.

~~~~~

It was close to three in the morning when the last customers were seated. The holiday evening was far from over, despite the hour. The kitchen was scheduled to prepare food until five, but it would probably be closer to seven. The atmosphere of the dining room had subtly shifted as the serious party hoppers moved on. Most of the remaining patrons were regular customers, tables that had finished their meal and were just staying put to enjoy the ambiance.

More comfortable with the remaining crowd and pushing twenty-four hours at the restaurant, Karl had lost his jacket and tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled back, revealing tanned forearms that belied the amount of time Karl hid inside Two Urban Licks. If it weren't for his habitual morning run, he'd have the complexion of a vampire.

A burst of laughter came from the direction of Sean Bean's table. Karl had expected the theater group to be one of the ones that would move on to see and be seen at some of the more high profile parties planned around town. He had a strict "no press" rule at Urban Licks that included all forms of camera equipment. What the restaurant lost in publicity, it gained back in devoted customers that could count on an uninterrupted dinner and complete discretion from the staff.

Walking towards the bar, Karl snagged the ever-present mug of coffee the bartender kept fresh for him and headed down the hallway towards his office. A sonorous voice stopped him with a question.

"May I ask you something?"

Even before he turned, Karl knew the owner of that voice. He'd heard it dance at the fringe of his awareness all night. Karl rotated to find the Englishman, leaning casually against the wall.

"Of course, sir," Karl answered, hiding his loss of composure behind stoic professionalism. "How may we help you?"

One side of Sean's mouth quirked up into a lazy grin. "We?"

"The staff of Two Urban Licks," Karl clarified.

"Ahh…" Sean nodded like that explained everything. Pushing away from the wall, he prowled toward the restaurateur. Stopping well within Karl's personal space, he pulled out a cigarette, lifting it to his lips and leaving it there while he searched his pockets for his lighter.

The Brit had also divested himself of his jacket sometime during the evening. Karl had been assiduously avoiding staring at the blond actor all night, something his eyes seemed intent on correcting now that they had the chance. Guessing the missing lighter was probably sitting snugly in the pocket of Sean's jacket, Karl reached into his own pant's pocket and offered the other man a light.

"You're a Godsend, mate," Sean sighed, his proper British accent slipping a little in his relief.

Some how the fluctuation in accent made the man not only more human but a hundred times more desirable. Fuck. Karl shook his head in self-recrimination. He was as bad as the waitresses.

Sean's voice resonated in Karl's ear like a purring kitten. "This is quite a restaurant you've got here."

"Thank you. I've worked hard to make it special," Karl acknowledged, silently pleased that Sean had taken the time to find out he owned the place and wasn't merely the manager.

"It shows. This place has an elegance that matches yours." Sean leaned a shoulder against the wall again, crossing on foot over the other. His hands sunk into his trouser pockets, pulling at the fabric and clearly outlining a significant endowment.

Karl swallowed, his eyes nervously skittering away from Sean's crotch. "Thank you again." He shifted restlessly, wanting to escape, but not wanting to offend a customer. Sean Bean did strange things to his insides and Karl was not entirely comfortable with the result. It had been a long time since he had felt such an immediate visceral reaction to someone. He had forgotten how it made you feel uneasy in your own skin.

"How'd you come up with the name?" Sean asked, genuinely interested. Some thing about the young restaurateur piqued his interest and he intended to find out more about him, starting with his sexual orientation. General wisdom might be that you should know someone well before you fuck them, but Sean's experience taught him to trust his gut, especially with blokes. His profession didn't allow him the luxury of lengthy courtships when the object of his affection shared his gender. Sad, but true.

"The idea came to me in the shower actually. It's a play on my name, Karl Urban."

Sean was certain that it was unintentional, but the combination of the words "came" and "shower" in the same sentence put an erotic picture in his head. His gut was screaming that he needed to learn more about the darkly handsome man standing in front of him. "That coffee smells great. You got more of it 'round 'ere somewhere?"

Karl looked down at the cup in his hand like he was just remembering it was there. "Ah, yes, of course. Would you like me to have it sent to your table?"

"No, I was thinking more about your office," Sean answered smoothly, straightening and walking past Karl and through the door marked "Private".

Cursing under his breath at the same time his pulse doubled, Karl followed the Brit into his office. Sean's back was to the door as he examined the pictures on the wall. Karl crossed to the desk, cracking the seal on the carafe sitting on his desk and filling one of the mugs next to it. He silently blessed his efficient staff as aromatic steam wafted up from the dark cup. "Do you take anything in it?"

Sean turned, reaching out for the mug. "Black's fine. I prefer my cream other ways." He paused, green eyes twinkling. Seeing Karl's discomfiture, he continued. "I sampled your crème brulee tonight. It was sublime."

It had been a while since he'd participated in any serious flirting, but Karl still recognized it. Did it make him uncomfortable? Yes. Was it causing erratic fluctuations in his pulse? Yes. Did he want to take the gorgeous British actor up on what he seemed to be offering? Oh fucking hell, yes! Moving closer than necessary, Karl allowed his fingers to linger around the warm cup as he passed it to Sean. "It's nice to know you have a discriminating palate. I'm picky about the mouths I indulge with my creations."

Sean's emerald eyes glowed with mischievous delight and the golden flame of desire. They held a steady gaze, probing Karl's hazel eyes for a mutual understanding of where this was heading. Apparently finding what he was seeking, the blond began to lean forward slowly, giving the darker man plenty of time to retreat.

Karl's eyes grew heavy in anticipation of the touch of Sean's lips but he didn't retreat or advance.

Sean grabbed Karl's face with both hands and kissed him. His tongue was hot, hard, insistent. He took immediate control of the kiss, his every touch focused on incinerating Karl where he stood. Methodically he worked his way down Karl's neck, pulling the shirt out of the way to nibble on his collarbone and letting his fingers magically free the buttons down the front of his shirt. He had no intention of giving Karl a moment to reconsider their direction. Unerringly, his mouth and teeth closed over the peaked tip of a dark nipple.

Karl's knees buckled and he stumbled towards the desk, gripping the edge for support. How had this gotten out of control so damn fast? His eyes focused on the mug of coffee he had just poured for Sean, sitting innocently on the desk. On the verge of his consciousness, he remembered that they were in his office at the restaurant and the door wasn't even locked. Most of his employees knocked first, but several of his most-trusted just tapped on their way in. He wound his hands into the thick blond hair, intending to call a halt to this insanity when Sean dropped to his knees, weaving a path of open-mouthed kisses from the dark nipples to the impression of Karl's belly button. Karl wondered briefly if anticipation could drive you insane. The fingers poised to stop Sean sunk deeper into the soft hair and pulled his tantalizing lips even closer.

Sean smiled against the soft trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of Karl's trousers. One hand slid up the expensive material, skimming the hard muscles of Karl's calf and thigh until it settled with a squeeze over the hard ridge of the restaurateur's erection. The dark head tipped back with a raspy curse, "Fucking hell, Sean. You're gonna kill me."

Sean defeated the belt, buttons and zipper of Karl's pants with the same ease as the buttons on his shirt. Karl's leaking shaft sprang forward, happy to be free of the confining cloth, but he ignored it for the moment. Sliding his hands inside the opening, Sean gripped Karl's hips, grasping his buttocks and pulling him closer to the edge of the desk, closer to the edge of orgasm. His lips grazed the tip of Karl's cock.

Karl couldn't stop himself from crying out and tangling his fingers tighter in the silky, golden hair. It was either that or break his fingers from clutching the mahogany desk too tightly.

Sean didn't take him in his mouth right away, instead he sat slightly back, cupping his balls, stroking his length until he was groaning and throbbing for the actor's touch. The blond kept his eyes fixed on Karl's cock, as if it fascinated him, which, in fact, it did. When he took a tentative taste, followed by a long lick from hilt to tip, Karl wondered if he had ever felt a sensation so intense before.

The thought flew away the minute Sean took him completely into his mouth, his hands still working their magic on his balls, his tongue and teeth sending him into a tumultuous descent of spinning need, whirling desire.

Karl's first thought was, 'Damn, I want this.'

Followed quickly by, 'Shit, I want him as much as everybody else.'

And then, 'Oh hell, I want to come.'

'Fuckin' hell, need to come!'

"Gonna come," Karl ground out, his body curling with the intensity of the pull from his groin.

And when he did, Sean swallowed every drop, soothing him back down with soft kisses and light strokes. Karl cradled Sean's head against his still-trembling body, losing what was left of himself in the texture of Sean's hair as it ran through his fingers.

A sudden knock on the door intruded harshly, causing both men to jump guiltily.

"Fuck," Karl cursed, trying to stand and pulling at his clothing.

"Karl? You alright?" Miranda called from the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, Mir, I'm fine. Just drifted off for a bit. Sorry." Karl pushed Sean in mock irritation as the older man interfered as he tried to straighten his pants.

"O… okay."

Karl could tell from the tone of her voice, she wasn't buying this for a minute.

"People are beginning to really clear out. Several tables are hanging out to say 'Happy New Year' to you," she added.

"I'll be right there." Karl glared at Sean who was busily unbuttoning every button he fastened. "Will you quit that?!?"

Sean smirked, standing and then shrugged. "What can I say? I like you better naked."

Karl groaned, pressing a firm kiss to Sean's lips and almost letting the Brit lure him back into the intoxicating, lust-filled bubble they'd been inhabiting. "No!" He pushed away resolutely. "I've got to go back out there and help Miranda close up. And I'm sure your friends think you've been abducted by aliens," he added as an afterthought. In truth, he hadn't thought about anybody but Sean since they'd stepped into his office. The man was more than a little mesmerizing.

"So meet me when you're done," Sean suggested, resignedly beginning to straighten his own clothing. "Come to my hotel."

"Tonight? Er… this morning?"

"Yeah. As soon as yer done." Sean's clear green eyes showed Karl he was serious.

"I'm so tired what I really need to do is sleep," Karl evaded.

"So? You need a bed to sleep. I got one of those." The teasing, playful tone was back in Sean's voice and completely irresistible.

"Okay," Karl promised, silently cursing. What was he getting himself into?

Sean's smile melted away all doubts and reservations. "Good. Room 1836 at the Ritz-Carlton.

~~~~~

Karl stood on the sidewalk outside the hotel, looking up at the elegant building. Miranda had dropped him off. The sky was completely light now. She hadn't asked one probing question and he hadn't offered any information. He knew that he'd get grilled later, but hopefully by then he'd have gotten some sleep and would be up to mentally dueling with her.

Before he could change his mind, he entered the hotel lobby and strode purposefully towards the elevators. The doors to an empty car slid open silently as he approached, causing him to look around for a hidden electronic eye. Entering the elevator, he stabbed at the button for the eighteenth floor, keeping his eyes riveted on the floor. He didn't want to see his reflection in the brightly polished metal. If he did, he was bound to ask himself, 'What in the fuck do you think you are doing?'

The satiated bliss of several hours earlier had dissipated and in its place had come recriminations. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, his body was demanding more and his honor was screaming about returning the pleasure the British actor had so unselfishly given. So the chant had started in his head, 'Don't think. Feel.' Only a few more seconds. 'Don't Think. Feel.'

A melodious ping announced his arrival. The doors opened and Karl stepped out onto the well padded carpet. The décor was elegant and non-descript, in a way only fine hotels and high quality offices seem to achieve. Walking down the hall, scanning numbers, Karl continued to chant, 'Don't think. Feel.'

1836

Fuck. Karl stood immobile, staring at the door. He stooped to pick up the paper lying in front of the door, and squaring his shoulders, knocked.

Sean opened the door and Karl no longer had to tell himself to feel. Holy mother of God. The blond stood framed by the morning light, one hand gripping the door a little above shoulder level, the position of his arm flexing the muscles in his upper body. Karl swallowed a mouth full of saliva. 'Real cool, Urban. Drool all over the man, why don't cha?'

Sean had obviously gotten comfortable when he got back to his room. His dark tailored slacks fell in folds to the top of bare feet and his shirt hung untucked and open from his shoulders. The toned, tanned chest contained a smattering of almost white-blond hair and a leather thong holding a carved amulet of some kind. It looked like ivory or bone and Karl bet it would be warm to the touch. His hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching out to stroke it.

A quick glance at the still pristinely turned down bed told Karl he hadn't been to sleep. When his eyes returned to Sean, a sly smirk told him that his furtive gaze had been followed.

Sean's voice, rough from lack of sleep, too many cigarettes and talking over a crowd all night, curled into his ear, "I was wondering if you were going to stand me up."

Karl shook his head. "It always takes longer to close up than even I think it should and I've been doing it for a year."

"Come in." Sean stepped back, inviting Karl into the room. He didn't move quite as far back as Karl had anticipated and his shoulder brushed the golden chest as he passed, causing a static electric reaction to sizzle through the younger man.

Swallowing audibly, Karl handed Sean the paper in his hands. "This was in the hallway."

The blond tossed the paper carelessly towards the executive desk provided by the hotel. It missed by a good two feet, scattering on the floor. "I'm not much interested in anything outside this room now that I've got you here," he growled, moving even closer.

Karl took a step back, instinctively retreating from the predatory look in Sean's eyes. Heat suffused his body as he remembered those hungry green eyes looking up at him from between his thighs earlier and he changed direction, moving forward instead. The unanticipated change caused their bodies to collide forcefully. The extra energy seemed to spill into their kiss as Karl cupped the back of Sean's head, crushing his lips to the actor's.

Sean tasted of coffee, scotch and cigarettes. Pulling back slightly, Karl licked at Sean's lips, and asked, "Got any of that coffee to share."

Sean smiled coyly. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you shouldn't pump your system full of caffeine just before bed?"

Karl raised one incredulous eyebrow.

"Well you did say you needed to sleep," Sean replied innocently, eyes wide.

"If you bat your eyelashes at me, I'll put you over my knee," Karl growled.

"Not exactly a disincentive, mate," Sean laughed. "You do look knackered. I've been up all night, too. We could draw the drapes and nap for a bit," he offered seriously.

Karl stepped towards Sean, causing the older man to step back to keep his balance. "I have every intention of using that bed…" He took another step. "So hard…" Another step. "That we may have to pay to replace it."

The back of Sean's legs hit the mattress and with a quick shove, he was falling backwards. Karl crawled over him, pressing him down into the bed. "But when we're done, I'll take you up on that nap."

Sean's legs were still bent over the side of the bed. Karl straddled his thighs, running his hands over the bare chest framed by the open, silk shirt. "Fuck you're gorgeous," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Sean's hands quickly started on Karl's shirt, pulling it out of his pants and tugging at the buttons. Karl laughed, brushing Sean's hands out of the way and unbuttoning his own shirt. "You were better at that earlier," Karl teased.

Sean's eyes darkened. "I didn't 'ave you in me bed, ridin' me body. It's a bit distractin'"

Karl moaned at the heavy roll of Sean's accent. Fuck, if the accent got thicker with desire, he wasn't going to make it to actually having sex - the man was going to talk him to orgasm. Rocking forward, he rolled the hard length of his cock into Sean's, who hissed and arched up into the pressure.

"Ah bloody hell, feels amazin'," Sean gasped.

"Yeah," Karl agreed, planting his hands on either side of Sean's head and grinding into him. Again and again. The rhythm getting faster and harder. "Ah fuck!" he cried, his head dropping back. He pushed his hips forward hard, maintaining the delicious pressure, but denying himself the movement so he could gather his control.

"Clothes. Gone. Now," Karl snapped when he was capable of speech again. Rolling off of Sean, he quickly stripped himself, stretching out on the bed with one arm bent under his head.

Sean followed more leisurely, taking the time to watch Karl before dropping his hands to his own trousers. With a heavy clunk that told Karl he hadn't emptied his pockets, they fell to the floor as soon as they were unfastened. Sean's hand reached for his shirt, but Karl stopped him.

"Toss it here," he requested throatily. At Sean's curious look, he added, "Please."

Sean tossed him the shirt. Catching it with one hand, Karl buried his nose in the warm, scented silk as Sean crawled onto the bed, running his hands over every inch of Karl's skin he could reach. The gorgeous restaurateur didn't strike him as a bottom, but he couldn't help but wonder if Karl would submit to him. Kneeling to the side, Sean began to sample and taste - a contracted nipple, a protruding hip bone, the line of muscle running diagonally from waist to pubic bone.

Karl arched into the touches, the shirt falling unnoticed from his fingers to the floor. He tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of Sean's lips on his body, but with every touch, his body wound tighter until he was writhing and pulling at the sheets until they came loose in his hands. "God, Sean, stop," he panted. "I can't…"

Sean murmured his dissent against the inside of Karl's thigh, the vibrations sending a shudder through the tall frame. Licking the sweet, musky crevice at the top of the long, tanned length of Karl's leg, Sean nuzzled the nest of curls, his cheeks brushing against the sensitive sac hanging loosely between the wide spread legs. Carefully, he sucked each of the tender globes into his mouth, using his tongue to tease at the spot beneath them, just out of sight. Lying flat on his stomach, he spread Karl even wider, probing his tongue between the tight cheeks.

Karl gasped, his hips rocketing off the bed as Sean's tongue brushed his entrance. A hungry whimper escaped before he could bite it back. The left side of his brain wanted him to pull away or at least protest, but the right side was still chanting, 'Don't think. Feel.'

'What the fuck?' Karl thought. 'He lives on the other side of the fuckin' world. If I embarrass myself, I never have to see him again.'

With a wanton look, Karl rolled onto his stomach. "More." The single word held more power than a stream of pleading.

Sean felt his balls draw up tight to his body as Karl offered his body. Spreading the cream-colored cheeks, he couldn't resist a quick bite on the meaty curve. Before Karl could pull away, Sean's tongue tasted his tight opening and he was pushing back instead.

"Like that, do ya?" Sean chuckled, sealing his lips around the puckered flesh and sucking.

"Gumph…" Karl buried his head in a pillow to stifle his cries.

Sean pulled at the corner of the pillow, tossing it to the floor as his tongue continued to lap and probe. "Want ta hear ya. Want to make ya scream."

Karl moaned, rocking back and forth with the thrusts of Sean's tongue, his cock dragging against the rough surface of the woven blanket. "Fuck, Sean…"

"That's it. Show me ya wannit."

"Gods yes. Fuck me!" Karl screamed.

Sean thrust his tongue as deep as he could, fucking Karl's hole until his jaw ached and his face and neck were wet with his efforts. Every time he thought he couldn't go on, Karl would make a low depraved noise that Sean just had to hear again. Pulling back slightly, he slipped a finger easily into the stretched opening, moaning when the tight muscle clenched around it. When the pressure let up, he curled it with dead-on accuracy, stroking Karl's prostate lightly. He wanted to tease, not make him come.

"Need… I need…" Karl tried to find his voice, but with every crook of Sean's finger all rationale thought fled.

"I know what ya need, lad. Ya need me cock strokin' ya right like this." Sean finger dragged slowly over the sensitive gland causing Karl's thighs to tremble. "Tell me ya want it and I'll give ya all I've got. Make ya come so hard," he promised.

Karl's nipples pulled into tighter buds until it was almost painful, his balls drawn tight to his body and his cock lying in a wet spot on the bed. "Fuck me, Sean. Please…"

Karl's pleas were cut short by two additional fingers joining the first and twisting.

"Ahhh… fuck, yes… Now, Sean. Put your fucking cock in me, now!" Karl ordered, pushing back onto the fingers, his hands tangled in his own hair as he rocked back and forth on his knees.

Sean reached for the condoms and lube he had laid out in hopeful anticipation, sloppily coating himself and pushing into the still-tight channel in a steady thrust. He was sheathed about halfway when Karl let out an abandoned groan and slammed backwards, impaling himself.

"Yes!" both men cried, Sean's fingers digging into Karl's hips. He set a brutal pace, slamming so hard into Karl that their skin slapped together like obscene applause. There was no holding back. Sean curled down over Karl's back, biting into the fleshy part of his shoulder, marking him.

The tension in his groin tightened until it was read to snap. "Touch yer cock for me," Sean whispered next to Karl's ear. "Come for me."

The touch was almost superfluous. Karl's hand circled his cock, but he was coming before he'd made even one full stroke. The muscles surrounding Sean tightened and clenched, increasing every sensation and triggering his own release. "Mine," he growled, burying his face in Karl's neck.

Hot and sweaty, they both collapsed forward onto the disheveled sheets, skin sticking together, chests rising rapidly and pulses pounding in their ears.

Neither of them seemed to notice.

When he'd caught his breath, Sean whispered against Karl's still damp skin, "Happy New Year, luv."

Karl shifted lethargically. "You know, around here, they say what ever you do on New Year's Day is what you'll be doing all year long."

"Really?" Sean asked, quirking an intrigued eyebrow at Karl. "I think I could learn to like a tradition like that one."

"Yeah, Southerners use it as an excuse for making big pots of ham and black-eyed peas."

Sean braced himself over Karl's body, licking a broad swipe from groin to nipple, where he paused to suck enthusiastically at the tightening bud. With a playful nip, he drawled, "I think I can find something better to consume."

"Oh?" Karl asked coyly. "Do share. Maybe we could add it to the menu at Urban Licks."

Sean growled playfully, pulling Karl completely under him and pinning him with the weight of his body as he buried his face against his neck, continuing to nibble. "You don't know me very well, yet, but I'm afraid sharing isn't my strong suit."

Karl shivered as his new lover grazed a particularly sensitive patch behind his ear. "Don't worry. That suits me just fine."

the end