David’s lips quirked up on one corner. “I’d much rather you keep your thoughts gay.”
Then he reached his hands forward and caressed Mason’s shoulders.
Chapter twenty-three
David
Ofcourseithurtto see that written out. David wasn’t thrilled that Mason thought of him like that, even after all of his attempts to make himself so clear.
But getting upset about it was tantamount to punishing him for thought crimes.
But he knew that Mason… Well, it wasn’t that he couldn’t be held accountable for that. More, it was that David understood. He wasn’t going to hold internal thoughts against Mason. That wasn’t fair… and that wasn’t what David wanted. Being mad about something Mason wrote for himself, especially something so riddled with anxiety, wasn’t going to make either of them happier.
No, what would make David happier in that moment was trying to drive the point home to Mason. He slid his hands up and down Mason's shoulders a few more times, then let hisfingers drift lower. Inch by inch, he made his way down, until his nails brushed against the sides of Mason’s chest.
Then he glided his left hand across Mason’s shirt, taking his time, feeling the rise and fall of each breath and the ever-increasing thrum of his heart. And then he went lower still.
Mason stopped breathing altogether as David’s palm rested against his middle. His skin was so hot against David’s hand, even through his shirt.
David waited for Mason to say something, to rebel. If he gave the word, David would stop. But no word came. A sharp hiss of breath when David moved lower still, but no request to stop, or to even slow down. So David continued. His own breath caught a moment in his chest when he brushed the hem of Mason’s shirt. He was right there. A tiny whisper of motion and he could start to undress Mason, see what he’d been missing out on all this time.
David forced himself to stop. He locked eyes with Mason. “If you need me to take a chill pill—”
“If you don’t hurry up and do something, I’m going to lose my nerve.” There was no lightness or joke in his eyes. Slate blue pools of intensity, above a jaw that was entirely too tight. “Believe it or not, I don’t like being this way. I don’t like that I second guess myself every second I try to engage in normal behavior like eating or taking off my shirt in front of a guy I’ve already blown.” His voice was taut and hoarse, and not in any kind of sexy way. “I don’t think you look at me that way…but I need to find out. So…frigging strip me naked and laugh or paddle my ass or jump my bones. Whatever it is that you’re going to feel like doing.” Mason’s shoulders slumped. “Please.”
It was odd. The entire thing was odd. Getting a guy naked, getting ready to make out, it usually didn’t involvethiskind of desperation. If anyone was desperate, it was typically desperate to get the other person out of their underwear, or desperate toget their dick wet. An impulse flared up in David’s belly. This wasn’t the moment he’d been waiting for. Not exactly.
Yet as he looked into Mason’s eyes, he knew the only right answer. David could deal with some strangeness. When Mason said he needed this, that was obviously what he meant.
David grabbed the hem of Mason’s shirt and slowly lifted it. Mason’s arms shook a bit as he raised them up.He really is nervous.Still, David took his time. Every bit of skin he exposed, his own excitement grew. Mason’s belly was soft, with only the barest trace of hair around his navel, going down beneath the waistband of his pants. He had a little patch of hair on his chest, and barely any under his arms, all the same amber and brass tone of the hair on his head, and in his goatee.
David’s cock pulsed at the sight of Mason’s nipples. They were a dark pink and tight, and whether because of the emotions of because of the temperature, they stood at attention.Thatwas when the expected desperation showed up, flooding through David, and he question why he’d ever doubted this was the right call. He imagined running his tongue in circles around those nipples, pulling them with his teeth until Mason whimpered.
When the shirt was off, Mason tossed it aside and let his arms drop. Scarlet spread from the tips of his ears halfway down his chest. “Ta-dah.”
“My favorite magic trick.” David took a step back so he could see everything. “Damn.” David traced the curve of his middle with his eyes, imagined the feeling of embracing him, skin on skin. The last hug had been solid. Mason on top during sixty-nine had been incredible. “If you’re waiting for the verdict…” David unzipped his pants, and he’d gone commando again, so his cock popped straight out of the opening. He wasn’t fully hard, but he was getting there.
Mason chuckled nervously. “That’s good.” He rubbed a hand over his chest. “You’re not…I mean, I know this is not ideal.”
David closed the distance again, cock still out, and gave into his impulses. He wrapped his lips around Mason’s left nipple. First he lapped at it with his tongue, then he sucked on it, then he finally grazed it with his teeth. And the whimper he got was better than anything he could have imagined. The last bit of softness in his cock vanished with a pulse and a twitch, and he took the opportunity to grind forward, rubbing it against Mason’s crotch until he felt a bulge in return.
“You don’t have to flatter me.”
David shook his head, locking eyes with him again. “I’m not.” David looped his arms around. He had to get his message across, and he only had one way left. Otherwise…otherwise he’d probably keep trying, if he was honest.
David ran his hands down Mason’s back, then slid his fingers underneath those turquoise slacks so he could grab Mason’s ass. “Be a good boy and get on the bed so I can prove there’s no flattery.”
Chapter twenty-four
Mason
Sofarsogood.Part of Mason felt absolutely ridiculous. He had at leastsomesense of self-awareness, after all. He could see enough of himself as an objective observer to pick up on the inanity: here he was, already shirtless, a model-hot guy grinding into his dick, groping his butt and telling him to get on the bed. By all accounts, even to Mason and all his stupid, useless anxiety, David was turned on. David wanted him. David was not fleeing in disgust at all.
If Mason could have excised the little voice constantly gnawing away at his reason, he would have done it long ago.
Still, he wasalsoself-aware enough to know that playing along was by far the best choice. He wanted to, no matter what any other voice whispered to him, and every time David called him a good boy, all the other thoughts poofed out of his brain.
When they got to the bed, David pulled his hands away and slid them around to the front, rubbing the heel of his palm against Mason’s bulge. His other hand traced circles around Mason’s nipples, then trailed downward, across his belly, then down to his waist where it plucked at his button. One try, two, and on the third, he popped free the button on Mason’s pants. As soon as that tension released, a shuddering breath left Mason’s mouth. “Jesus.”
