It’s the beginning of the workweek, so you deserve a cat belly:
The sun rose over the mountain, its light bathing the farm and flashing off the bright metal of Leif’s sword. He moved like a dancer, his every movement fast and graceful, the sword’s blade whistling in the air as he appeared to battle imaginary enemies. Despite the morning chill, he’d stripped off his shirt and tossed it over the seat of the still-broken-down tractor. The early sunlight gilded the sweat clinging to his lean torso, outlining every lithe muscle.
Pale scars tracked his arms here and there, and Dan noticed a black tattoo on his chest, above his heart: a rune Dan didn’t recognize. A stylized hound was tattooed on his left shoulder, also in black; a sword on the right. Metal glinted from the silver bars through each pale pink nipple, and a light dusting of golden hair traced the path from navel down, disappearing beneath his loose workout pants.
Dan’s fingers tightened convulsively on the coffee mug, heedless of the scalding heat. He could feel warmth gathering in his cock, nipples tightening, lips aching, his whole body yearning toward the lissome figure moving with such fluid grace. He wanted to run his hands over the pale skin, wanted to trace the path from navel to groin with his tongue. Wanted to pull loose the bound hair with his hands and sink his fingers into the locks, inhaling and filling his lungs with the scent of male sweat.
He swallowed convulsively, struggling to control his reaction. His erection strained against the fabric of his jeans, easily visible. If Leif saw that, he’d…well, Dan didn’t know, exactly.
I could find out.
No. No, bad idea. Leif was way out of his league. He probably wasn’t even interested in Dan, at least not beyond some light flirting which didn’t mean a thing. And even if he was, Dan couldn’t risk it, not for a guy who’d be gone in a week.
He focused his eyes on the broken tractor, forcing himself to think about fighting to repair the piece of shit, until what few mechanical skills he had failed him. He was going to have to take it to the garage, which meant more money down the drain, and he’d better just hope it was fixable and he didn’t need to buy a new one.
The unpleasant thought was enough to make him go soft, all right. Maybe the tractor wasn’t completely useless after all. Not looking directly at Leif, he walked over to it and set the mug on the hood. “I brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks.” Leif walked over, grabbed his shirt, and used it to wipe off his face and chest. Dan tried not to stare, but he could smell Leif’s sweat, mingled with the remnants of his cedar and rosewood cologne. Heat burned Dan’s cheeks.
“I’m just about done,” Leif said; if he noticed Dan was having trouble looking directly at him, he didn’t let on. “I promise to shower before eating. Don’t wait breakfast on me.”
“I’ll wait. We’ll wait,” Dan correctly hastily. “Virgil’s still asleep, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Leif said again, then laughed. “I say that to you a lot, don’t I? I’m not sure how I can repay you for everything you’ve done.”
Dan shrugged awkwardly, certain Leif could see his blush now. “You don’t have to. I’m a Walker—it’s my job.”
“Even if that’s true, you’ve done far more than I could ever have expected.” Leif’s hand came to rest on Dan’s shoulder. He glanced up in surprise. Leif’s expression was serious, his winter-sky eyes capturing Dan’s gaze effortlessly.
Dan felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to flee, but at the same time, he wanted to lean forward and taste Leif’s mouth. He could feel the heat of the other man’s fingers through his t-shirt and flannel, and he ached to feel that warmth against his skin.
Leif’s fingers tightened slightly, before dropping away. Exertion had left a pink flush on his skin, but Dan thought it deepened before he turned aside and lowered his gaze to the steaming mug. “Anyway, thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem,” Dan said; the words came out rough, and he cleared his throat self-consciously. “I better go inside and get breakfast going.”
Leif nodded, and now he was the one avoiding looking directly at Dan. “I’ll, uh, be in soon.”
“Take your time.” As Dan started away, he heard the dry leaves crunching under Leif’s boots, the whistle of the sword as he started up his exercises again. And although he ached to look back and at least let his eyes feast on the other man, he resolutely kept them fixed on the door until he was safely back inside.