“Wow good or wow bad?”
“Wow bad?” Henry shook his head. “How could this be bad? Iwantyou. Like... a lot. I know things haven’t quite moved that far yet. And I was fine waiting.” He nodded. “I still would be. We don’t have to take that step if you’re nervous. But... did you think I was going to turn you down?”
“I mean, maybe a little.”
Henry chuckled and rose, then wrapped his arms around Tristan’s chest and shoulders. He smelled like coconut and sweat and flour and his touch untied all the knots in Tristan’s middle. His words soothed away all the rampant stress and worry in Tristan’s head. “I want you. Any way and anywhere you think is good and right. As long as you’re comfortable.”
As long as I’m comfortable.Tristan smiled and leaned into a kiss, mouth parted. He tasted the remains of the cheap hotel coffee on Henry’s breath as their tongues passed and tangled... Tristan leaned back just far enough to speak. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever pulled who’s not a complete asshole.” It was hard, in that hazy moment of relief, to think of him as selfish. Even slightly selfish.
“High praise.”
“Yes and no.” Tristan couldn’t help smiling. Not that he tried that hard to stop it. “I mean, it puts you at the top of the list by a big margin. But it wasn’t exactly a fair fight. You probably still would have blown them all away when I thought you were a douchebag.”
Tristan kissed Henry again before he could speak. Slowly, he moved them toward the bed and let himself fall on top of Henry: body to body, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Tristan struggled to get his shirt up and off with one hand while he brushed the fingers of the other through Henry’s hair. Eventually, he had to lean up and pull his shirt all the way up and off. His scars crossed his mind, but only for a fleeting moment. They didn’t matter. His body barely mattered.
Only Henry was important.
Tristan tossed his shirt aside, then lowered himself back against Henry and into the cocoon of those wonderful smells and heat emanating from Henry’s body. Their lips met again and again, and slowly they shifted on the bed. Before he knew it, they’d turned and had their heads against the massive sea of pillows. Henry’s nails scratched along Tristan’s back, shooting electric fire through his belly and down to his cock and balls. He longed to be free, to be touched, to be fullyconnectedto Henry.
Henry’s hands cupped his ass. His grip was firm, squeezing, digging deep into the muscles. Through the fabric, his fingers edged closer and closer to the cleft. Tristan’s cock throbbed heat and pressure andGodcouldn’t they hurry this along?
Henry pulled his head as far back as the pillows would allow. “Take off your glasses. And everything else.”
“Happily.” Tristan couldn’t jump away fast enough. He set his glasses carefully on the bedside table, then stripped off his pants and underwear and he was finally,finallyloose. He watched ravenously as Henry stripped naked, then took in the full glory of that lithe body stretched out on the bed. Coarse bush and gleaming, stiff cock turning up toward his belly button. Rough hair covering muscular legs. Patches of hair peeking from his underarms. And a huge, ridiculous smile plastered across his face, the kind that flooded Tristan with warmth and light. He laughed, a faint, breathy sound. That joy and excitement and pure exhilaration needed some escape.
Tristan lay back down and wrapped his hand around Henry’s hard shaft. Slowly, he stroked up and down. He didn’t think it could get any harder than it was, but hehadto touch it, to touch Henry. He needed that contact like breath or water.
Henry’s head tilted back even farther, raising the pillows to either side, and his eyes closed, but Tristan kept on. He reached to his own balls, caressed them with his free hand.
“Jesus.” Henry bucked against Tristan’s hand. “We’re not going to need the condoms if you keep that up.”
“Oh, come on, you can take a little more than that, can’t you?” But Tristan slowed, loosening his grip until he justbarelyhad a hold on Henry’s cock. Pre-come dripped down the shaft, slicking Tristan’s subtle movements. Damn it, he wanted every inch of Henry. Now. “So, we didn’t talk about specifics... but I’m a bottom. I mean, I can do whatever you need, but—”
“I’d rather top. At least this time.” Henry lifted his head and winked. “I mean, youdidbuy a full pack of condoms, and I assume we’re only fucking once tonight. So we’ll have at least a few more opportunities to switch things up.”
Tristan laughed and leaned in to kiss Henry again. First his mouth, then his jaw with the stubble that scraped Tristan’s lips. Down to Henry’s neck, where he felt the gentle pulse. To his chest, where Tristan wrapped his lips over one of Henry’s pert nipples. He nipped it with his teeth and Henry whimpered. He passed his tongue over the bud and a shiver raced across Henry’s skin.
“Fucking Christ, I want you.” Henry’s voice crept out hoarse and tight. “I want you right now and I don’t do well with impulse control. If you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed.” Tristan wasn’t going to move first, but if Henry wanted to jump into it this fast, he wouldn’t argue. He shifted himself around to lay at the edge of the bed while Henry stood. Tristan fumbled to get a pillow under his head so he could watch, so he could see everything.
“You one hundred percent about this?” Henry blew out a slow breath. “I might be the stupidest man in the world questioning thatnow, with you laid out like this, but I want to make sure. Do you want this?”
Tristan chuckled. “I am a shut-in pastry chef. I don’t like people or interacting with them. Yet I walked into a drugstore and bought literally nothing but condoms and lube, and believe me the cashier wasamusedby that. But I did it anyway, and I’d do it again with a smile on my face.” Tristan locked eyes with Henry. With the tiny blur in his vision, any minor flaws Henry might have had—though Tristan couldn’t think of a damn one in that moment—faded away and he was... beautiful. “I would say I want this, Henry.”
Henry nodded, then draped himself across Tristan. He came back with the lube and the condoms. Condoms went down on the bed and he popped open the KY. The plasticclickthrilled up Tristan’s spine. They were really doing this. Henry smeared some along one finger, then reached down, his eyes flickering between Tristan’s face and his own hand. Tristan tensed at his touch, but only for a second before he dragged that natural reaction back under control. He gazed up at Henry as the pressure increased, taking in each detail on that scruffy son of a bitch’s face. The crinkling around deep brown eyes, the cherry-colored flush moving through his neck and chest, and the stray lock of hair that hung in his face. God, he was gorgeous.And he’s all mine.
Tristan lifted his legs up to better expose himself, and felt the first knuckle slide in. His back lifted off the bed as lightning spiked through him, but he forced himself to keep watching Henry in spite of the cascade of ecstasy. The second knuckle popped through, forcing sounds from Tristan he couldn’t recall ever making. Above him, Henry worried his lower lip with his teeth, tensing his jaw in the most stunning way. Tristan quivered as more pushed inside him until, finally, he couldn’t hold eye contact anymore. He moaned and let his head fall back.
Henry swirled slowly and deliberately inside him. Every now and then, his fingertip would brush againstthatspot. The one deep inside Tristan that shot fireworks across his body. Heat and stars whizzed wildly through every inch of him, all pooling as static in his head and tingling in his balls.
Henry pulled back a little, then a second finger pressed in. Tristan’s back arched, and there was noallowinghis moans, anymore. They simply came free, past his lips as Henry worked inside him, scissoring his fingers, slowly but surely stretching Tristan wider. Almost without noticing, Tristan wrapped a hand around his own cock and stroked slowly from base to tip. It took all the self-control he had not to pump furiously, but he wasn’t going to finish, wasn’t going to squander this experience in a flash of recklessness. What never even crossed his mind before coming here, now seemed like the ultimate bliss, the moment he’d unknowingly been striving toward for so long.
Tristan’s moans gave way to words, guttural and coarse, as he peered unblinking at Henry. “Fuck me.”
Henry chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“I’d say I do— Oh God ...” Henry had sped up as they spoke, as thoughthatmade it easier to have this conversation. But Tristan wasn’t about to stop him. “I wasted the whole however-long-we’ve-been-doing-thisnotgetting fucked. And nothing could feel this good.” The sensations, the fullness, the connection, they all washed through Tristan, a salve to cover the anxiety from the past week. He closed his eyes and let out the shuddering groan that had built in his throat. “I mean... goddamn it, you’re like figs and honey and cinnamon and whipped cream.” His rational brain was fading into the background, leaving him with only food metaphors and Henry’s fingers twisting and working inside of him, slowly plunging deep, then sliding back out against the too-sensitive ring of muscles. “Fuckme.”
