The Wrath at Cannes

The Wrath at Cannes - Part Two


Hayden gets up and goes to the restroom to wash up a bit. He's looking everywhere but at the smug Lowlander stretching like a cat on the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Ewan reaching into the side table drawer and pull out his pack of smokes. Hayden has maintained a hard and fast rule with the public that he doesn't "mingle" with his co-stars. Yeah, but I've been careful to use the word 'actress.' George covered up the gay rumors pretty well.

He lets the cool water run over his wrists, calming him. Lets his heart-beat slow. Looks at himself in the mirror - the high, red spots flushing his cheeks, the bee-stung lips from kissing, eyes that are heavy and half-lidded. From his vantage point, he can see Ewan, one arm thrown over his head, the other holding a smoke while he inhales, eyes closed. Hayden allows himself to take in the other man's form. They had hardened and sculpted their bodies in preparation for this movie. Ewan's trek across Europe had given him a swagger more prominent than before. A few scars on his arms, legs from his tumble that one t-

"If you don't come back to bed, I may just have to come in there and get you. Frankly, I'm at a point in my life where I prefer the bed."

"How do you do that?"

Ewan laughs. "Do what?"

Hayden smiles openly, towel dries his hands, and walks to the edge of the bed. "How do you do it? The world knows you to be this randy het bastard and a loving husband."

"Well, it's because I am those things. But frankly, I'm just a randy bastard. I like sex, and I don't care how I get it, as long as I get it."

Ewan puts the fag out, crosses his arms behind his head, bends one leg, and gives a small jerk of his head to his side. Hayden hangs his head to hide his smile, then with one fluid movement, slides his body alongside Ewan, head resting on his hand. He taps the underside of Ewan's foot with his toes, gives a laugh, and says, "Did you know? About me, I mean. God, if George ever finds out..."

"Who the fuck is going to find out?"

Hayden looks up and sees Ewan, brow furrowed, hands at his side supporting him sitting up. "I love my wife very much. Nobody is going to find out. This is just fucking."

Hayden tries to keep his face neutral, to play it cool. It's never just fucking to him, but he thinks that would sound incredibly naive. There's still a lot of the hometown boy in him, and Ewan seems so cosmopolitan... "Right, right. I was just talking out loud. Jesus, you think I want anyone to know? I haven't made it big enough to be the 'Rupert Everett' of my generation. Just..." Hayden looks over to Ewan, who is still sitting up, tense, and with a newly lit smoke, and laughs. "Sorry. I'm a bit spazzy after that. It's been a loooong PR trip, you know?"

Ewan gives a sarcastic laugh, puts out his smoke. "Sorry. And - too right. Grab a couple of beers out of the fridge, would you? And there isn't any cat-piss you call beer in there. Only the finest Munich has to offer, laddie."

Hayden hops off the bed, grabs the longnecks, finds the bottle opener, and takes a long pull. "Jesus, that's good."

"Fucking and drinking, boy, that's my people's contribution to the Great World Order."

Hayden finishes the beer in two gulps, catches his breath, leans over the bed, delighting in making the older man lay back, and whispers onto Ewan lips, "Pretty fucking awesome contributions."

Bracing himself on his hands at Ewan's sides, he tenderly draws his lips back and forth over Ewan's, tongue tracing their edges and tasting the lingering Dunhill tobacco and wheat beer. Hayden feels him open his mouth, head rising to meet his, but Hayden pulls back with a sly grin. Hayden moves his forehead across the other man's cheek and traces the outer edge of Ewan's ear with his tongue. A tug with his teeth on the lobe, warm breath behind the ear, and Hayden's right hand slides up and over a sharp hip, across a taut belly, over a slightly stubbled cheek to then tangle into dark-brown locks. Hayden finds a particularly ticklish spot where neck and shoulder meet, smiles and gives a low chuckle agaist warm skin, then moans into Ewan's neck as he feels hands tangling into his own hair, massaging his skull.

Hayden throws a leg over, pulling back enough to make eye-contact with Ewan, register the older man's passion, then work the other side of his neck, now with added hip movements, slow and deliberate figure-eights to tease and promise. The pressure on his head increases - Ewan wants the same treatment. Hayden pulls back, sits and traces his hands down the shoulders to the arms of his lover. When Ewan moves forward to continue the kiss, Hayden pulls back, then takes Ewan's hands in his own, raises them above and against the headboard, pushing down slightly to force Ewan to slide down against the bed.

Hayden puts his lover's hands into one of his and lets his free hand slide down to grip Ewan and massage him. Hayden deftly moves over and to the side, still pinning Ewan's hands over their heads, and begins kissing more agressively.

Ewan breaks away to catch his breath and mutters, "I'm not a fucking bottom, babe."

Hayden pushes his leg against Ewan, forcing him onto his stomach, catches an ear lobe with his teeth and replies, "You're about to be."

Ewan tries to turn over, release his hands, bucks against the larger boy, but Hayden whispers in his ear while massaging Ewan's shoulders, "Shhh. Trust me. You'll like it. I'll stop if you want me to. Let me," and grabs the condom with lubricant.

Hayden settles on the backs of Ewan's thighs, one hand rolling on the slick condom, the other rubbing up and across Ewan's shoulders, then leans over, warm breath and hair tickling soft, pale skin. Teeth nip at tender flesh where arm and back meet, soothed by wet kisses. Strong, broad hands reach down and grip muscular backside, massaging, kneading, seperating and pushing together. Hayden slides between legs, pushes up with his hands so Ewan is propped up on his knees slightly, kisses soft flesh where backside and thigh join. The flat of a hand caresses virgin skin, fingertips weaving into soft brown curls, trapping moisture, sliding back and finding their own tight embrace. A low moan, and what sounds like, "wait." A nip of flesh followed again by a wet kiss, hair tickling, warm breath against the small of Ewan's back. Hayden murmurs, "Shhh. Let me. Baby, let me."

A hand travels over hip, fingertips lightly tracing their path, teasing the underside of Ewan's cock. Gripping more firmly. Lips and warm breath on tender skin. Hand stroking, prodding, stretching. Moans cause movements to increase their speed. A right hand stops its kneading to squeeze and pull sideways on glut muscle. Hayden takes a shaky breath and rubs himself against Ewan's opening. He feels Ewan hold his breath and leans far forward, lays a cheek between shoulder blades and arches his back inwards, so slowly his stomach muscles tremble. Just the head. He pumps his left hand faster to help Ewan feel some pleasure. Ewan is biting on his pillow, cursing. But not pulling forward.

Hayden leans back onto his knees, his right hand slides down to hold a hip, and pushes forward slightly. The cursing in the pillow increases. He pulls out, stroking himself back and forth on the underside of Ewan's sac, never stopping his left hand from pumping. Gentle kisses to the small of the back. Whispering voice against trembling skin, "you feel so good. I don't want to hurt you, but you feel so good."

Ewan begins to move himself with more force into Hayden's fist, twisting his hips back to grind against Hayden's erection. Hayden covers his own moan with a sucking bite to the skin on Ewan's side and eases himself back in, a little further this time, gently pulling back, in and out until he is able to be fully embedded. Ewan pushes back now, props himself up further onto his knees, opening up more, apparently realizing that will take some of the burning away. Hayden grips more tightly and times his own movements to match those of his lover's. Ewan clenches, tenses, buries his face into his pillow and yells. Hayden strokes Ewan's cock, fingering the sticky fluid as it is released. Ewan relaxes as Hayden takes the opportunity to grip the man by hipbones and thrust rapidly. Unprepared for the onslaught, Ewan cries into the pillow and tries to move forward on his knees, away from the burning pain. Hayden is stronger and near his own release and so holds on firmly as the motion beneath him brings his climax about rapidly. Hayden throws his arms around Ewan's waist and cries out, face pressed to a shoulder blade as he empties himself.

Ewan bucks, tossing the younger boy off, and then lays on his side, away from Hayden. Both are breathing heavily. Hayden flips to his back, pulls off the spent condom, rises, and heads to the bathroom. Ewan sits up, winces, decides to stand, and lights up. He keeps his back to the boy. As Hayden comes back to the bed, he notices a few red spots on the sheets and reaches out to hold Ewan's arm.

"Jesus, aw, shit, man. I... I thought you were joking. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ewan looks back, eyes blazing, but sees the concern and worry in blue-green eyes and is pacified. "One thing about me? I'm not a liar." He breaks into his trademark grin. "Well, except for the fact that I am. Not about that, though." He takes a drag, eyes looking everywhere but at Hayden.

Hayden takes Ewan's face into his hand, thumb stroking across lips, "I'm sorry. I just... It's been a long publicity tour. And, you know... It's you."

Ewan smiles back, reaches up and squeezes the hand holding him still, pulls it off, and says, "Be sure to take the private elevator out. Don't need you getting mauled by rabid fans, do we?"

Hayden stands still a few moments, watching Ewan turn on the shower and shut the door, dresses, looks around the room, and leaves.

~*~*~*
End.

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