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And whoever said that fire couldn't taste sweet? ~ Jennifer Nicely
Michael waves at the security guards, the grip boys, the make-up artists, and the caterers in turn on his way to the closed set where they are filming Tom's ass, er...the really cool scene for the next episode with a lot of special effects involving fire. Michael likes fire. He grins and fights breaking into his Beavis impression, but can't resist, squeezing his hands into fists and urgently whispering, "Fire! Fire! Fire!" As he scampers past the cinematographers, over the ever present extension cords and wires, he speaks to everyone and no one in particular, "I'm just here to learn about the special effects. Don't mind me. Just watching the fire. Fire! Fire! Fire!" People chuckle or roll their eyes, but essentially ignore him, and Michael is pretty used to that now. There had been a time when his antics could get a rise out of just about anyone, but now he's boring, old news, just another washed up comic around these parts. He wonders how many times he's going to hear Kristin say, "You do realize that you're really not that funny, Michael." He's made it his goal to beat his personal best this season and to force those words from her mouth at least nine times during the filming of one scene. He got eight from her just last week. Michael notices Tom standing off to the side wearing nothing but a robe and drinking from a Grande size Starbucks cup. He doesn't seem nervous at all, despite the fact that he'll be surrounded by flames in just a few minutes. Now, as always, Tom seems calm and collected, although probably ready to crack a joke that will make everyone in the room roll with laughter. Michael has to force himself not to pout about the fact that no one ever tells Tom that he's really not that funny. Tom smiles when he sees Michael approaching, but when Michael sidles up close, he slaps away Michael's already wandering hands in warning. Michael can't help but laugh at that. Tom knows him too well. It's just that pinching Tom's ass at inappropriate times (is there really an appropriate time for that sort of thing?) is one of his favorite ways to tease. And, Tom's ass is just so fucking for pinching; it's perfect and round, just begging for it. Michael darts one hand out and grabs a handful of Tom's ass. Laughing, Tom, in a deft move, grips Michael's wrist, and twists his arm up at a painful angle. Michael yells, dramatically, "Ow! Ow! Ow!! You fucker! Ow!" Tom just shoves him away and says, "I told you to stop that! Put your hands in your pockets!" Everyone in the room is looking at them again, and most of them have that speculative look in their eye; the one that Michael takes perverse glee in instilling. Let them wonder! Let them all wonder! Then let them wonder some more when Michael takes one of the cute catering girls into his trailer and fucks her. Michael believes that any attention is good attention, and it amuses him to no end to hear the whispers on set about him and Tom, or, hell, him and John. Just last week he'd overheard one girl saying to another, "No, no. Tom's married. It's John that he's fucking!" "Schneider!?!" her companion had gasped. "No! Glover, you idiot!" As if! As if he'd ever fuck either of those old geezers? Older men aren't like older women--they don't grow finer with age like wine. No, old men just wrinkle and start to smell like his father, and that is a huge turn-off in every way. Now, young men, (like those guys in college, the ones he might have let suck his dick during the few times he indulged in Greek love over the years), have their appeal--namely eager, hot mouths that know how to suck like fucking hoovers. Older women know how to suck, too, and they're eager for it-- "Mike?" Michael blushes realizing that he's standing next to his good friend, slightly panting, kind of hard, thinking about the blowjobs he got in college from eager to please gay guys, and comparing them to the blowjobs he wants to get from those sexy older women who never take him seriously when he says that he wants to fuck them. "Yeah?" "You look a little dazed. Thinking about something in particular?" Tom raises his eyebrows mockingly, and Michael has a sudden flash of Tom on his knees sucking--but, no, he pushes that away. "Just thinking about the fire. Fire! Fire! Fire!" "I can see the headline now: Pyromaniac Actor Goes Mad. Then the subhead: Orgasms Over Fire, Incinerates Co-Star." Tom nods across the room toward the director who is obviously ready to begin. "So, stay the fuck away from me, psycho." "Come on, Tommy, don't you want me to set you on fire?" Tom smiles slowly as he steps away to start filming, and Michael feels his throat close up. "Blazing." Michael grabs some coffee and watches them set up the scene. He's talking with the fire-control guys, and trying to be very serious, because he can't stop thinking of the way Tom had smiled at him, bringing to mind again those beautiful boy mouths sucking on his cock, imagining Tom's cherry red lips-- And he's hoping to God that no one notices his raging hard-on. He's pretty sure that no one does. After several minutes, he seeks out a dark corner to try to calm down. Sure he's always wanted to fuck Tom, but really, except for those couple of 'experimental' encounters in college, he's not really into guys, but-- Tom's just got on a robe, and he's going to be taking it off, and Michael can admit that the fire was really the secondary reason he wants to be on set today, the primary one being that he's jerked off for the last several nights thinking of Tom naked. He's married for Christ's sake, Mikey, get a fucking grip! But, just a robe-- Michael rubs his fingers over his eyes and clears his throat. He remembers the time his father asked him if he might be gay. The question might have been prompted by his father dropping by the frat house unexpectedly to find Michael with his cock in some guy's mouth. But he told his father no then, and he'll tell his father no now, because he gets his share of pussy and he loves it. There's just something about Tom-- He's missed the last ten sentences from the fire-safety guys because Tom is standing there looking at him while playing with the tie on his thick furry robe. Michael feels beads of sweat starting to roll down his temple, and it isn't even hot in the room yet, they're keeping the temperature low before setting the fires. But Tom keeps looking over at Mike and kind of smirking a little--the knowing look that most people don't get to see when he's playing Clark Kent. Then they call for action and the robe is gone. Tom has never been a shirker, and he isn't wearing anything all. And for a seond, it seemed that nothing could draw Michael's startled attention away from the huge length nestled between Tom's thighs. He gulps his coffee and shifts, his own dick no longer at half-mast, but throbbing in his suddenly too tight pants. Fighting a blush, Michael ducks behind a box of sound equipment that still affords a nice view as they line Tom up for the shot. Tom's ass is covered in flame retardant and it's shiny, so fucking firm, and smooth. Michael takes another gulp of coffee and tries desperately to look nonchalant, but, damn, he's going to be spending some quality time in his trailer as soon as this scene is shot and he can get his cock to calm down enough to move out from behind this box. Tom turns his head, scanning the room. Michael is shocked when Tom's eyes search him out and hold his own gaze. The look on Tom's face is absolutely amusement and Michael isn't pleased to be the butt of a joke for Tom. It's humiliating enough that Tom knows about his crush, but to have him know about his crush is something altogether different. Michael tries for nonchalant, breaking eye contact, turning to the runner who is standing next to him. A pretty girl, curvy, just his type, and he grins at her saying, "He's got a nice ass, huh?" She smiles a little, giggles. "Yeah. I guess." Michael rolls his eyes. "You guess? Come on! That's bona fide gorgeous man ass there!" She blushes and whispers, "But he's married. It makes me feel funny." Michael sips his coffee again, and mutters, "Yeah, married. That's true enough." The director is calling for the action and the fires are lit. The flickering light licking across Tom's ass revives Michael's flagging cock, and he stares avidly at the picture before him. Gorgeous shoulders sliding down into a strong, long back, and delicious ass cheeks that he wants to bite. God. He wants to do that. Shit. Tom is working now. No funny business, completely intent on getting the shot and getting the robe back on. Michael really needs to adjust his crotch and he glances around to make sure that no one is looking. Unsurprisingly, everyone else is just as mesmerized by Tom's ass as he is. He surreptitiously snakes a hand down and adjusts himself with relief. He glances back to Tom--argh. He's been caught. He blushes and juts his chin out defiantly. Tom just smiles and turns back to business, back to getting the shot. It's over way too fast. The robe is back on and Tom's chatting with the director and checking out the various takes in the monitor to make sure he's comfortable with them. Michael takes a deep breath and decides to make his exit. Better to rush out now than to have to talk to Tom after that display. But--nah. It isn't like he's going to admit to it, and if he leaves now that's just what he would be doing. He quickly pushes his cock up under the waistband of his boxers, holding it in place so that he can stride across the room like he isn't sporting wood for his co-star with the fucking sexy body and amazing ass. And he doesn't mean Allison, and he sure as hell doesn't mean Kristin. Defiantly, he walks right up to Tom, and shoves up close so that he can look at the monitor as well. It plays back in not so perfect clarity the beauty he's just beheld with his own eyes, and he grins up at the owner of the butt, saying, "Nice ass, buddy. Looks good on film, too." Tom raises his eyebrows and rolls his eyes. "Thanks, bastard." Michael opens his mouth to issue a retort that is definitely inappropriate and tasteless, when Tom suddenly says to the director, "That looks good. I'm happy with that if you are." The director nods. They've done five takes, and it has worked out nicely. Tom continues, "I need to talk to Mike about that scene we're shooting tomorrow. I'm having some trouble with the pacing." Michael's nervous and he doesn't know why, so he does what he always does when he's scared. He cracks a joke. His hand ventures out to softly caress Tom's ass through the robe. "Just trying to get me alone, aren't you, stud." The director rolls his eyes and says, "Real professional, Mike." Then he turns back to Tom and nods again. "Yeah, I'm happy. Go ahead and work on that scene. We're already behind schedule this week; I don't want to take up time with extra takes tomorrow." Tom nods toward Michael and says, "I've got the script in my trailer. Come on." Michael swallows hard and tries to think of something flippant but Tom's looking at him in a way he's never seen and--his mind is blank. Totally blank. "Oh. Okay." Tom starts out in front of Michael, affording him a view of that miraculous ass beneath the fuzzy white material of the robe. Shit. He needs to stop looking because he's just getting hard again and there's no way Tom's really coming onto him anyway. It's all flirtation. All fun and games. Besides, pussy is good. Michael bounces up the stairs to Tom's trailer and enters with a grin on his face. He is barely through the door when Tom grabs him by the arm and slams the trailer door shut, locking it twice. Mike's eyes are wide and he starts to laugh a little in panic. Surely this can't be-- "Uh, what did I do now, Tom? I was just fucking around back there--" Tom looks at him with an expression that Mike recognizes as the "I'm Superman and I'm going to whip your ass" look from the set. It's also a look that Clark often shoots Lex in the scenes that the crazy girls online say demonstrate how much Clark wants Lex's cock up his ass. Um. Oh. Michael puts his hands up and grins a little lopsidedly. "What's up, pal. You're acting a little intense. I was just joking around back there. No need to get pissed." Tom shakes his head. "Give it up, Mike. Just give it up." Michael's mouth goes utterly dry when Tom unbelts his robe and lets it fall to the floor, his impressive cock fully erect and pointed right at Mike. "Uhhhhh...." He doesn't have time to say more because Tom pulls him into a full body embrace, laying a kiss on him that sears him down to his toes, and brings his cock to full, harsh attention. He doesn't even think about struggling because--well, because he isn't thinking about anything really. Just hard body and thrusting hips. Michael's more than a little shocked when Tom unbuttons and unzips his jeans, forcing them around Michael's thighs. He swallows hard against the rush of cool air on his tight dick, and continues to rut against Tom's hard hip. "What about Jamie?" Somehow his mother and his upbringing is forcing him to ask this question, maybe Tom has somehow forgotten about his wife. "Don't talk about her right now." Tom's voice is low and scary; his hand moving onto Mike's cock and jerking it with expert twists. Michael gasps at the realization that Tom's done this before, but before he can ask, Tom's mouth is on his, and Tom's hand on his cock is pumping him hard. "Shit, Mike. Since the first day--and you wouldn't stop. You had to tease. Had to push." Michael's mind isn't really up to talking and he just lets go and ignores his mind's very quiet protests about not being gay. Pussy is good, but, fuck, so is this. Michael comes to the rapid understanding that Tom isn't really taking his time; he devours Michael's mouth with kisses, and then turns to bend him over the sofa. "You're going to give me what you've wanted to give me for the last two years." Michael is pretty sure he should be panicking, but he's not. In fact, he's arching up and trying to get more contact. Tom pushes Mike's shirt up, baring his back, touching him everywhere. Then, as Michael stares at the grain of the sofa's material, he feels and hears shifting and moving. Mike's starting get frightened now. Is Tom really going to-- Oh, fuck. Slick fingers circle his ass, and he struggles a little, terrified at the idea of-- "Tom, I don't know. I'm not sure..." "Have you ever done this with a guy, Mike?" Michael shakes his head desperately. "God--you're going to love it." Michael shakes his head, again. Tom is really big and--three fingers! In his ass! Oh fuck, it hurts and he struggles, unwanted whimpers coming from his open mouth. "Just say the word and I stop, Mike." Michael bites his lip against the automatic "Stop" that rises to his throat. He wants this--God, he's wanted it from the first fucking day. "Do it." Tom laughs a little behind him. "Finally. Shit. Finally." Hard movements open him up and then a huge, blunt pressure is slitting him wide. He throws his head back and yells. He knows they'll hear outside the trailer, knows they'll know what's happening--but, fuck, how would he ever be capable of being silent in the face of this shocking intrusion? Tom's hands on his hips steady him, and Michael tries to breathe around the rocking thrusts and the burning pain of Tom's huge cock going deeper and deeper. Michael grunts as his dick is pinned between his body and the back of the sofa, every thrust of Tom's hips grinding it into the hard edge painfully. Tom, groaning behind him, grasps Michael's hips tightly, then says as though to himself, "I'm not going deeper. Not this time." Not this time. Oh God. There will be a next time. Michael wants it and he scrambles at the sofa cushions, arching up to take more. "Fuck me, God, Tom. Please, harder." Tom caresses his back. "No. You can't handle more." Michael knows that Tom is right, knows that shoving any more of Tom's cock inside of his ass would be painful, but still he presses back, wondering how much he can take. Then there is a slow retreating slide that blows Michael's mind, he's screaming again, but this time it is from an amazing, wrenching pleasure. Tom's hands hold him up, and Michael is lost--lost to huge hands and a huge cock that plunder him relentlessly. His own body feels broken open, and yet he can't stop thrusting back to accept as much as Tom will give him. Tom leans over and whispers in his ear, "This'll teach you to tease." Michael nods his head. Fuck, yeah, if teasing gets him fucked like this, gets him bent over Tom's sofa and whimpering through sensation more intense than he's ever known--then fuck, yeah, it'll teach him to tease. Inexorable tension mounts, and he feels Tom speeding up behind him. It's only a matter of time and he's going to come. He knows this and he's biting down on his lip to keep the scream to a minimum. Just a few more thrusts and he's--shaking, broken, spurting, coming, and definitely yelling. "Yes, Tom! God, fuck, yes!" And then he feels Tom wrench free of his body, sudden dreadful emptiness filling him, followed by the hot, wet spurting of Tom's come on his back and ass. Several seconds go by and the unreality of it all begins to pass. He feels Tom wiping his back clean with the fuzzy robe, feels Tom's hands gentling him and soothing his trembling sides. Tom's voice is at his ear now. "Are you okay, Mike? That was rough for a first time. I'm sorry. I just--God, the way you look at me." Mike's arms are shaking and he allows Tom to pull him up into an embrace. "I'm, uhhhhhh..." Tom grins. "Uh?" "I'm uhhhhhhh..." "Just nod yes for 'okay' and no for 'not okay" Michael nods yes and tries to think of something witty to say. Nothing. Just complete silence. The phone rings in the trailer; Tom helps Michael to pull up his jeans and lay on the sofa before answering it. "Oh, hey, Jamie." Michael's eyes go wide. "Yeah, having an okay day. The scene went well. Just had a bit of a confrontation with Michael, but I think we got it worked out." Michael stares at him. "Yeah, I know he's got a crush on me. I can deal with that." Michael opens his mouth and shuts it again. "I love you, too. I'll be home late. I'm going to rehearse some more with Mike." Tom hangs up the phone. "You don't have plans do you?" Michael shakes his head, dumbfounded. "Okay, good. I wanted to show you how sweet I can be, too." Michael whimpers and says, "I'm not sure--I-- we--" "Aren't going to tell Jamie and are going to do this again." "Tom--you--" "Shh." Tom kisses him into silence, and Michael submits to the sweetness of his tongue.
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