Sequel to Cock-And-Bull.

Ezra had been acting strange all week. Well, stranger than usual. He'd been nice. Really, really nice nice -- not his normal tongue-in-cheek with liberal amounts of sarcasm nice. It was starting to unnerve Chris and Chris was not a man easily unnerved.

Ezra was up to something. It was written in every overly sweet smile, every overly considerate gesture. He kept doing things for Chris that went above and beyond the call of duty. Fighting off a grouchy Josiah to secure the last donut of the morning, for example, was just utter insanity. Only a fool tired of living would even attempt such an act. Ezra was no fool and yet he had not only tried but succeeded, presenting the last donut to Chris with a flourish while Josiah had huffed off and had Buck muttered something about 'true love'. Now that had been embarrassing.

As Chris parked his car on the rain slick street across from Ezra's place, he considered the idea that maybe Ezra's plan was just to embarrass him horribly. Maybe Ezra had a bet going with one of the others? He wouldn't put it past the conniving bastards. They were probably taking odds on how long it would take him to snap.

However, the problem with that theory was that the endgame would have to take place in the office, Chris reasoned as he got out the car then locked it with the alarm remote while crossing the street. There was no way the others would pay up on a bet if they couldn't see the results for themselves but this invitation to Ezra's for dinner did feel like the climax of...something.

Lingering suspicion made him scowl at the fancy brass fixtures on Ezra's mahogany door as he walked up to the house. Since they were both off for the next three days, there was a very good chance that Ezra had a lot more in mind than just dinner. But even while the prospect of a marathon sex session made his cock and balls tickle with anticipation, he still paused on the doorstep a second or two longer before pounding the heavy lion head knocker.

What happened next was a blur.

One moment he was stroking the brass while withdrawing his fingers, the next the door had opened and he was being grabbed by the front of his leather jacket and hauled inside. He barely had time to recognise Ezra, note the same white dress shirt and grey suit pants from earlier that day, before the door was kicked shut again and he was being kissed breathless against it. He only got a chance to speak when his jacket and t-shirt were pulled roughly over his head.

"Ezra, what the hell?" he managed between plundering kisses, even though the feel of Ezra's demanding touch against his stinging, flushed skin made the blood rush to his cock.

"Not a word," Ezra returned before nipping and licking a hot, wet path down Chris' throat to his chest while unbuckling his belt.

As Ezra quickly unzipped Chris' jeans and tugged them down with his boxer shorts, freeing his rapidly hardening cock to the air, Chris leaned against the cool smoothness of the door to toe out of his boots. He then kicked away both the boots and the clothes pooled at his ankles while slipping his fingers into Ezra's hair.

"Don't stop," he said hoarsely.

In response, Ezra nipped an area of skin directly above Chris' trembling stomach muscles hard enough to elicit a hiss. He then pinned Chris' left hip against the door with a deceptively light caress while nudging his thighs further apart with his other hand.

Chris' heart was hammering in his ears when Ezra stroked deftly up the inside of his left thigh to firmly tug then squeeze his balls. When Ezra moved to grasp the base of his cock then lick the tip, Chris' back arched and his head thumped against the door. Pain lanced down his spine as the securing screw ends of the lion head knocker bit into his scalp -- but then Ezra's hot mouth was sucking hungrily on his cock and nothing else mattered.

As much as Chris tried to keep still and let Ezra set the rhythm on his cock, the need to move into the tight, wet tunnel created by Ezra's hand and mouth was too much. Ignoring Ezra's bruising grip on his hip, he started thrusting forward in time with Ezra's strokes.

Just as he felt everything in him tense for his approaching orgasm, Ezra's mouth was suddenly gone from his cock and his hip was released so he could thrust hard into Ezra's hand. He was barely aware of Ezra standing, could hardly focus on anything past the aching need to come and the hard slaps of the door on his ass. Then Ezra's teeth were nipping along his jaw as if testing how deep they could go without breaking the skin and just when Chris thought he couldn't want to come any more desperately, Ezra spoke very low by his ear.

"Do you want it hard, Chris? Do you want me to take you hard, make you mine?" Ezra rubbed his clothed length against Chris' side. "Then come for me now," he said over Chris' panting breaths -- and Chris was suddenly coming, shuddering and coming hard into Ezra's hand.

He wasn't aware of anything except the waves of pleasure coursing through his body for a long time. Then he gradually recognised the warmth of Ezra's clothed body leaning against his front and the cold feel of the door sticking to the damp skin on his back. It took him a little longer to realise that even though Ezra was raining light kisses over his cheek, jaw and throat while stroking his chest with gentling caresses, his own hands were pressed back against the door, as immobilised as the rest of him.

When he moved one hand up to Ezra's waist, his arm felt weak and his elbow seemed like it was bending the wrong way. He realised Ezra must have cleaned away any residue of his orgasm without him noticing and suddenly felt awkward, exposed and more than a little ridiculous pinned naked against a door.

"What in the hell was that?" he asked roughly, holding Ezra a little tighter around the waist while easing away from the door and moving his other hand up to rub the stinging, pulpy feeling bruises on his scalp.

"It was my thank you, of course," Ezra replied with a grin.

Chris frowned. "Thank you for what?"

Ezra grinned wider. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Instead of answering that question with another inane one, Chris settled for letting his frown fall into scowl territory.

"I'll take that as a no," Ezra said brightly before kissing him softly on the lips then moving away across the open plan front room to perch on the edge of the couch in front of the low coffee table. "Come over here. You have to see this," he continued, waving Chris over with one hand while his other moved impatiently over the good sized but flattish, plain cardboard box sitting on the table.

Chris fished his boxers and t-shirt out from the tangle of clothes on the floor then pulled them on before making his way over to sit on the couch beside Ezra.

"Well?" he finally had to say when Ezra just kept caressing the top of the box without opening it.

"How much do you remember of the night you got pie-eyed on Buck's cocktails?" Ezra asked, watching his own fingers rub over the cardboard meditatively.

"Not much," Chris answered, a cold feeling creeping up his spine. He eyed the box suspiciously. "Why?"

"Do you remember the sex store at all?"

"Is what I bought in there?" Chris asked, reaching for the box only to have Ezra slide it out of reach.

"We'll get to that in a minute. First tell me what you remember."

Chris felt his gaze narrow but Ezra's stubborn look made him decide to play along.

"Lights, a spiral staircase, a couple of really camp guys." He shrugged. "That's about it."

"You don't remember picking that magazine?"

"Hell no!" Chris cringed at the thought of buying something called 'Inch By Inch'.

"What about taking your clothes off?"

"Tak-- What?" Chris stared, trying to read Ezra's amused expression. "What the--" he began, only to drop his head into his hands and finish with a defeated, "Oh fuck," as images of stripping down in front of strangers flashed into his mind's eye.

"Now, now, don't fret." Ezra squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "It actually turned out rather well."

Consumed with memories of lying naked on a bed while one of the camp store clerks and another man moved lighting around and tried to get him to pose in different positions, Chris barely heard Ezra's words. It wasn't until the sick feeling creeping up his throat turned to a growl of anger that Ezra's words finally sunk in.

"'Rather well'?" he repeated with a snarl. "I was in a fucking porno movie!"

"No you weren't." Ezra slid the box back up the table and opened it for Chris to see inside. "There, now isn't that very tasteful?" he said but Chris was too busy blinking to respond.

Nestled in the box was a nine-by-twelve-inch wooden picture frame containing a muted colour painting made up of soft browns and greyish pinks with a few hints of yellow and white. But it wasn't the colours that drew Chris' eye, it was the subject. His first thought of 'that's not me' was quickly followed by the reluctant realisation that it sure as hell was.

The naked blond man lying propped up on one elbow on what seemed to be a bed, was sort of on his stomach but leaning back on his far hip to expose both the curve of his ass and the darkness under his near hip. While Chris was familiar with the face, and the curves and planes of the man's body, the seductive pose was completely alien to him.

"Fuck. It looks like they shone a spotlight on my ass," he commented disgustedly but couldn't stop staring.

"Oh, I don't know," Ezra returned. "I rather like it. If anything ever deserved to be spotlighted...."

Chris tore his eyes away from the picture to meet Ezra's gaze. "How the hell did you get a hold of this?"

"Simple," Ezra replied with a wicked smile, "you had it delivered to my door."

"I what?"

"It's a service provided by 'Sizzling Sid's'," Ezra explained with far too much glee for Chris' liking. "Customers, whether heavily inebriated or not, can pose for photos which are taken by digital camera. The customer then picks their favourite which is artfully manipulated to look like a painting then printed on canvas and framed. The end results are either sent to the customer or the recipient of their choosing."

"And you know all this because?" Chris asked, picking up the picture for a closer inspection.

"Upon opening my parcel, I picked myself up from the floor and got to the phone," Ezra said with a grin. "Apparently the portraits are called 'teases' and they come in six, ten and twelve inch frames. Hence the--"

"'Twelve-inch t'," Chris broke in. "I get it."

"I thought you might." Ezra took the picture from Chris' grasp to flip out the back flap and set it on the table.

"You're not leaving it there," Chris said.

"Why not? I think it adds a touch of--"

"Porn?"

"I was going to say warmth. Don't you think it brings out the--"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I don't have to," Chris countered. "I don't care where you put it as long as no one else gets an eyeful."

"Very well." Ezra shrugged resignedly. "It would have looked gorgeous on your office wall, though."

"Yeah, until Travis dropped by and had a heart attack," Chris replied, pulling Ezra into a loose embrace so they could settle down on the couch together.

"Hmm, I don't know," Ezra said between lazy kisses. "This could be the beginning of a beautiful career in adult entertainment for you. You should hear what the gentlemen at 'Sizzling Sid's' said about you."

"Ezra, don't make me gag you."

"Was that a threat, Mr Larabee?"

"No, it was a promise."

"Good. Now, about that hard sex I promised you...."

End

Chris' 'Twelve-inch tease portrait' is on the story's web page here: http://www.geocities.com/cycnus39/TruthInTheTale.htm