Nor was that the only issue. Justin shut his eyes and breathed in, deep into his toes, letting it relax him as much as he could. No, there was no need for hope or desire. No need and no use for those things, even if they did rear their heads.
“It does,” Justin agreed fervently. It was possible that he’d never meant any words more than those ones. “It really, really does.”
Another silence lingered between them, and once more, it was Ken who stepped in to fill it. Ken, who probably couldn’t even help but chatter, to fill any silence with words, and for Justin, that was a good thing. Some people found it annoying, but for Justin, it just made Ken pretty much perfect …
Damn it. He had to stop doing that, thinking about Ken that way.
“So how much more do you need from me?”
The question was probably an innocent one, but Justin could almost swear that he heard a trace, just the faintest note, of flirtation to it. Regardless, his body, too long neglected, instantly responded, his cock starting to chub up in his comfortable sweats. Not the time, if there ever was a time, but it turned out that he could only ignore his body for so long.
Lightly, he placed his hand over his dick, trying to soothe it, but the slight stimulation only made it worse. His cock seemed to see it as a signal that it was time to go, full speed ahead, and blood rushed south all at once until he was aching.
Ken’s lovely voice purring through the phone hardly helped. How much more did Justin need from Ken? Well, Justin could get himself fired for sure and tell him just what he wanted. Explain to him that just the sound of Ken’s voice was enough to make him hard.
He could ask Ken to speak more, to say more blatantly sexual things.
Of course, that would only cement his status, more than ever, as a dirty old man, and Ken would probably be horrified. If Ken was flirting, it was probably pretty much by instinct alone, and Justin dragged his hand away from the front of his pants before he wasn’t able to make himself pull back at all.
“Um …” Justin commented, trying to think of something clever to say and coming up completely blank.
“I mean to work on the song,” Ken clarified, a strange edge to his voice. Did he know? Had Justin not been able to hide it? Had the tension which still pulled Justin’s attention down to his aching cock snuck into his voice, even as little as he had said?
“Oh. Uh, maybe just another session or two,” Justin admitted. “It’s going pretty fast. Do you …” Justin forced his voice to be much more casual than it wanted to. “Do you want to meet up with me again?”
“Yeah? Tomorrow?” Ken paused and then spoke again. “I have wedding stuff tomorrow until about four, I think. I need my suit. Luna wants me in a tux.”
Well, that brought up some very intense images of Ken, tamed enough to be put into a fancy suit. Justin could almost see it, the jacket emphasizing Ken’s strong shoulders and narrow waist, covering the sweet curve of his beautiful little ass but Justin knew, as he watched in his mind’s eye, it was still there.
Not. Helping.
“I can’t meet that late,” Justin managed, knowing full well that he actually couldn’t. He would have his daughter by then. “Maybe the next day …?”
“No way. I wanna get this done.” Ken had his stubborn voice on now, and Justin smiled wryly. Trying to get Ken to change his mind at this point would be like trying to get a mountain to stand up and dance, he had seen enough from the younger man to know that.
“I’m busy except during the day,” Justin started, but Ken cut him off, which was actually sort of a relief. Too many questions could be a pretty bad thing right about now.
“Okay. Well, can you come to the shop with me? We can talk while I find something. It’ll make the whole thing suck a little bit less. And then you can tell me how you think the suit looks, too.”
It didn’t mean anything, Justin informed his racing heart, that Ken would say that. That he would tell Justin that having him around would make the experiencesuck a little bit less,that was hardly a glowing recommendation, anyway, since everyone knew that Ken was not big on shopping, unlike many of his bandmates.
So Justin was a little bit better than something Ken hated. It was sort of pathetic how happy that could make him if he let it.
“Yeah, okay,” Justin agreed, because it was the only way that it could work, he told himself. And Ken had his heels dug in on this one. Probably better to just give in, to let it happen. “Text me the address of the shop.”
As they said their goodbyes, Justin fought himself, but it was a losing battle, and he knew it before he even started. His hand drifted back to the thick, insistent press of his cock in his sweats, and he groaned softly as he put his phone aside and called to mind Ken’s voice once more.
So easy to drift into a fantasy, though he’d been fighting it for years. Justin closed his eyes, and he could see Ken, could see him as he’d been at the gym, shirtless, broad chest shimmering with sweat, muscles straining and bunching under silken skin as he pressed weights.
Only Justin imagined him on his back, muscular legs flung open wide, body vulnerable to Justin. He had never seen Ken naked, but it was disturbingly easy to picture him that way and imagine that his skin glistened with sweat because he strained up against Justin, taking him inside of himself as gasps spilled from his full, open lips.
With a rough, impatient movement, Justin tugged down his sweats, releasing his own leaking cock, wrapping his fingers around it. In his fantasy, it was Ken who was wrapped around it, Ken who moaned and whimpered and strained up against Justin as Justin found and relentlessly pounded against Ken’s prostate.
Harder, baby, harder.
He could almost hear Ken say the words, and his own vivid imagination was more than enough to give him what he so badly needed. He very rarely took the time to take care of himself this way, and a very few rough, eager movements of his hand, his fingers clenching around the shaft of his dick, was all that he needed.
With a soft, muffled little cry, Justin turned his burning face into the soft pillow, hips arching up off of the bed as he spilled his come all over his hand. God, the things that he would do to Ken if he had half the chance.
Even though he logically knew that he would never get that chance, he couldn’t deny that that had been the most intense orgasm that he’d had in years. And it was seeing Ken’s face, hearing Ken’s voice, that had done it.
