Naptime

by Angelise

Aware of how late he was arriving home, Simon Banks slid inside as quietly as possible. Setting his briefcase down, the large black man took a few minutes to skim through the day's mail. Finding nothing but bills and advertisements, Simon threw the stack of envelopes back on the small foyer desk.

Hoping his lover was tucked comfortably away in their king size bed, the police captain of Cascade's Major Crimes department made his way to the kitchen. A hungry growl from his stomach dictated the urgent need for a midnight snack. Carelessly tossing his jacket and tie on the nearest countertop, Simon heaved a weary sigh as he unbuttoned his wrinkled shirt.

Opening the refrigerator door, the tall man pulled his shirt free from his slacks and allowed the cool air to drift over his naked chest. Simon grabbed a cold beer and rubbed it across his dark skin, allowing the chilled glass bottle to tease his nipples into hard nubs. A husky moan greeted the contrasting sensation of cold and heat.

Twisting his head back and forth to ease the kinks out of his neck, Simon caught sight of the sliver of light shining from under the door that separated the kitchen from the formal dining room. The older man chuckled briefly. That room had been temporarily converted into a study area while Rafe was cramming for final exams. Two years ago and with the complete support of his mate, the young detective had made the decision to obtain his Master's degree in Criminal Administration.

Simon looked at his watch and frowned. It was 2am . . . time for his lover to be in bed. Quietly, the large man pushed the door open and peered inside. The sight that greeted him tugged at his heart, melting away his body's fatigue.

There, slumped over the table, was his beloved Rafe, clad only in a pair of sweatpants. Tangled locks of mahogany brown tumbled over the sleeping man's face, a tiny dribble of drool falling from his lips. Threatening to escape, a forgotten pen and pencil were tucked behind Rafe's ear. Slender fingers still grasped the open textbook that had been made into a makeshift pillow.

Simon smiled as he listened to the soft snores that rumbled out into the room's peaceful interior. Ignoring his complaining stomach, the big man knelt beside Rafe and carefully removed the pen and pencil, restoring them to their rightful place on the table. With a quiet tenderness, Simon brushed back his lover's bangs, his hand hesitating over the shaggy length that covered the pale skin of Rafe's nape.

"Time for a visit to the barber, sweetheart, " Simon whispered.

The older man watched his mate for several seconds, his eyes wandering over Rafe’s slim form. Reaching a decision, Simon slid his arms around the detective and lifted him from his seat. Holding the smaller man against his large frame, Simon exited the dining room and walked towards the den.

Nuzzling the tender spot behind Rafe’s left ear, the police captain balanced the weight of his lover as he reached out and switched on a small lamp. The dim radiance spilled across the corner of the room that housed Simon’s favorite piece of furniture, a giant cypress rocking chair. Kicking open the room's double frenchdoors, the older man welcomed in the cool night air.

Drowsy kisses journeyed across his jaw as Simon carefully sat down. Taking a moment to settle his cherished burden in his lap, the police captain sighed deeply before putting the rocker in motion.

“How’s my scholarly lover?”

Rafe nipped at the skin covering Simon’s Adam’s apple. “Fried, man. My brain is totally fried.” The young detective leaned his head down and licked a wet path across one of his mate’s dark chocolate nipples.

“I thought I could stay awake until you got home.” Rafe looked up and grinned at Simon. “Guess I was wrong, eh?”

The big man chuckled. “You’ve got the sexiest snore I’ve ever heard.”

Rafe tickled Simon’s belly. “I seem to remember someone else’s snores shaking the rafters of our bedroom.”

The older man laughed, his hands tangling in his lover’s hair as he guided Rafe’s smiling lips to his mouth. “We do indeed make beautiful noise when we sleep.”

Rafe groaned as one of Simon’s hands abandoned its hold and slid inside his sweats, gently pinching the foreskin of his cock. “I make beautiful noise; you just downright snore.”

Simon smiled wickedly and squeezed his lover’s firming manhood. “I do believe this is what’s known as the kettle calling the pot black.”

The slender detective thrust his hips upward, his own hands frantically trying to release the tie on his sweatpants, giving his lover more room to maneuver his giant hand.

“Kettle, schmettle. Snore, schmore. Oh God, Simon. Finish it, babe. I need . . . shit!”

Simon captured Rafe’s mouth and sucked hungrily on the man’s tongue. Swallowing his lover’s moans, he eased Rafe around until his back rested firmly against his own broad chest. Pulling the younger man’s legs apart, Simon started rocking back and forth. His hands stroked Rafe’s erection, mimicking the motion of the swaying chair.

“Give it up, sweetheart. Now, Rafe. Cum for me, sweetness.”

Simon’s gentle grip on his balls had the slender detective spilling his seed all over the older man’s hands. Bucking wildly, Rafe threw back his head, his mouth latching onto Simon’s neck. The police captain growled happily, encouraging his mate to leave a passion mark on his flesh.

Rafe almost slid off of Simon’s lap as his orgasm finally worked its way through his body. Twisting around, the smaller man wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist and snuggled close. Bestowing several tender kisses over Simon’s heart, Rafe closed his eyes, Mr. Sandman once again calling his name.

Yawning widely, the drowsy detective murmured to his lover. “Never knew late night studying could be so rewarding. Maybe I should stay up more often.”

Simon rested his chin on Rafe’s head and smiled lovingly as once again soft snores drifted forth. “Maybe you should, baby. Maybe you should.”

the end