“Oh, I don’t know if I can agree with that.” Henry reached down for the bath’s corner again and grabbed the body wash. He lathered up his hands, then scrubbed that soap across Tristan’s shoulders, down his chest and ribs and sides and the scars that weren’t any of his business. “You’re gorgeous and sexy and I want to fuck you. That’s three compliments in a row. Did they lose their impact?”
Tristan’s skin flushed somehow redder. His voice quivered as he replied, and it only got worse as Henry slid his hands farther down Tristan’s frame. “Absolutely. By the time you said you wanted to fuck me, I was completely turned off.” He gestured to his hard-on, still as stiff and curved as ever, even as hot, soapy water flowed on either side and over the head. “See? Absolutely no attraction to you anymore.”
“Bummer.” Henry had hit the make it or break it moment. He rubbed the body wash through Tristan’s sparse happy trail. His breath caught in his chest when he brushed the bottom of his hand against the first coarse bit of pubic hair, but he stayed the course until he hit the iron-and-velvet cock. “I was hoping this could turn into more than a shower.” Slowly, he stroked from the base up to the head, watching the bubbles build and lather, then wash off and cascade down strong, solid thighs. “I know I kept my ulterior motives flawlessly secret, but I figured it was time to come clean.”
“Oh.” That single strangled syllable betrayed Tristan. “Well, then I should probably be honest too, if that’s... the path we’re headed down.”
“Go ahead.” Henry kept up “cleaning” Tristan’s cock. “I’m all ears.”
“I wasn’t turned off—at all—Jesus fuck, dude. Do youwantme to come right now?”
“I could think of worse outcomes.” But Henry finally let go and finished his pass down Tristan’s body. Thighs, calves, then back all the way up to standing. He pressed his lips to Tristan’s again, then re-lathered his hands with body wash and scrubbed his own chest, under his arms, his crotch. Hedidneed to get clean, even if the plan was to get dirty right again after the fact.
Orduringthe fact, in this case.
When he was soaped up, he pressed himself flush against Tristan, relishing the hard cock against his navel. “Sorry. Have to get rinsed.”
“No problem.” Tristan grinned wide. He combed his fingers through Henry’s hair, down his back, below his waist. He dug between the cheeks, barely brushing Henry’s hole with electric ice.
Henry’s whole body tensed and his balls pulled higher. “Fuck ...”
“Yeah, I thought that was the idea.” Tristan pulled one hand back and slicked his middle finger, sucking on it all the way to the base. Then around again. “You can tell me to stop.”
That finger circled Henry’s hole, teasing.
“Why the hell would I want you to stop?” Henry leaned his head forward as he felt more pressure. He locked his lips to Tristan’s for a minute as his hole finally loosened. All breath left his body, poured forward into Tristan’s mouth. His cock throbbed against Tristan’s hard abs, and suddenly the shower was everything and nothing. He couldn’t possibly hope to track every sensation, let alone piece them all together. The slow movement inside, in and out and in and out. Hot water pelting his skin. The lingering perfume of yeast mingling with the artificial coconut and lemongrass of the shampoo and body wash. And skin and sweat andTristan. Tristan was the world.
Henry slid his hands into the too-tight space between them and wrapped his hands around both of their cocks. Slow up and down, but speeding quickly as Tristan fingered him faster and harder and deeper, reachingthatspot. Lightning and frost veined and split through every inch of Henry’s body every time Tristan got that deep.
Henry stared into Tristan’s eyes as best he could manage being so close. Whimpering groans and moans escaped Tristan’s throat, and his head slowly leaned back. But still, he pushed his finger deep into Henry, circled it around the inside, pressed against the edges.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ...” Henry couldn’t keep from sayingsomething. A string of whispered obscenities was theleastoffensive and extreme reaction he could manage. He wanted so much beyond that, but there was no articulating any desires. He just had to stroke and feel the pressure inside himself and let his balls draw ever higher as steam filled his lungs. Steam and sweat and every tiny smell of Tristan’s body that Henry hadn’t yet had time to parse out. Yeast and wheat and herbs. Kitchen smells. Comforting, warm, perfect perfume.
Tristan pulled his finger free, and all that electricity and ice pushed to the surface, riding under Henry’s skin. An overwhelming emptiness filled his core, but his skin crackled and his cock throbbed in his grip.
So did Tristan’s.
“I’m close.” Tristan’s voice was even more strangled than before. Tight, barely creaking out.
Henry sped up. His balls crept higher and his belly tightened.
Tristan’s full lips opened wider, displaying straight white teeth. His head tilted back and his words were barely audible. “I-I’m ... coming ...”
Henry slammed his fist up and down both of their cocks. Tristan’s pulled and twitched away but stayed restrained by Henry’s hand. Spurts of white shot up, landing on Tristan’s abs, into his bush, onto Henry’s cock. It all washed away with the flow of the water.
When Tristan had finished, Henry pulled back, stroking madly. He wouldn’t last much longer, given the build, the pressure, the heat in his belly desperately clawing to burst out. His knees quivered, calves tightened so much they almost hurt. Numbness spread through his extremities as he struggled to hold back, to ride the wave longer. He leaned against the far wall of the shower, out of the shower’s stream and absorbed the view: Tristan panting, chest and shoulders heaving, hard muscles working gently under his skin, cock still semi-hard beneath dark bush.
Finally, Henry’s whole body exploded. The heat in his abdomen burst down, along his shaft, and out of his cock. Four, five, six, seven. He shivered with the explosion, barely able to hold himself upright. Yet even as he came, he longed for Tristan back inside him. His body shivered with the memory of that fullness, and his desires growled unintelligibly from his throat.
Henry slid down the wall. Tristan was right with him, nestling between Henry’s legs so his back pressed against Henry’s chest. He sighed, running his fingers in gentle circles up and down Henry’s thigh. “I hope that was good for you.”
“Good? Jesus Christ, yes.”
“Okay.” Tristan leaned his head against Henry’s chest. His hair tickled Henry’s nipple, a gentle sweeping and scratching sensation that was almost too intense. Tristan sighed loudly, and the water kept pounding its symphony against the tub. “I wanted to do more, but it felt too soon. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Henry brushed Tristan’s hair back from his forehead, then kissed the top of his head. “I showed up here expecting to thrash all the competition. So far I’ve gotten a bonus blowjob and a sexy shower.”Plus I got over my weird antagonism with Tristan.
Tristan snuggled in deeper. With his foot, he reached over and popped down the diverter on the faucet. Hot water quickly crept up the tub and up their legs. “Well, I had to give yousomething. As a consolation. Since you’re not going to win.”
