Bjorn #2
Dennis gave him a confused look, but shrugged agreeably and put down the plain shampoo in favor of the orange one. He poured a dollop into his hand and then raised it to Bjorn’s head, rubbing it into a rich lather.
Bjorn inhaled deeply, savoring the scent and the sensation of his mate’s hands in his hair.
He’d started to think he’d never get to feel this, or really any deep, light-of-day contact with Dennis.
Yes, they’d jerked off the other night, but that had happened so quickly, and in the dark.
He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself now that he was getting this sort of hardcore attention.
His subconscious, on the other hand, seemed to have its act together, because he emitted an involuntary, rumbling moan as Dennis caressed his head and his hips twitched, pressing his hard cock against the other man.
Dennis jerked slightly in surprise, and then chuckled.
“Well, hi there. Rinse.” He directed Bjorn back into the spray, somehow managing to keep their bodies in full contact as he reversed their positions.
“Back,” he directed, and Bjorn leaned his head back obediently and allowed Dennis to wash the shampoo out of his hair.
Bjorn sighed, deeply satisfied with this moment. “That feels so good, mate.”
“It’s supposed to…mate.”
Bjorn’s head snapped up and his eyes flew open, spraying Dennis with the water that flung off his hair. He stared at his mate…his mate. Who’d just acknowledged what they were. “Really?” he asked breathlessly.
Dennis gave him a small, crooked smile. “You grew on me, you dick.” He squirted some body wash into his hand and started rubbing it over himself. “Didn’t see that one coming.”
Bjorn was speechless. It was so very…Dennis…to call him a dick while telling him he wanted to mate him. “You want to…” he ventured. Could he bite?
Dennis patted his chest with a soapy hand. “Don’t get the teeth out just yet, big guy. Let’s just…have this.” His hand drifted down slowly, pausing on Bjorn’s belly for a caress before dropping to Bjorn’s dick and taking it in a loose grip.
Bjorn groaned. “Mate…” He braced his hands on Dennis’s chest, trying to keep himself upright on his newly weak knees.
Dennis jacked him slowly, teasingly as he went up on his toes to press their lips together. His tongue invaded Bjorn’s mouth just as teasingly, flicking at his lips.
The kiss heated quickly, and soon Bjorn was enthralled by the simultaneous thrust of Dennis’s tongue and squeezes of his hand. All he could do was let out breathy sighs and moans as Dennis backed him up against the shower wall without letting up his ministrations.
The cold tile against his back shocked him out of his stupor for long enough for him to get a hand of his own up, caressing Dennis’s neck, shoulder, and then down to flick his nipple.
Dennis groaned deeply. “Fuck yes.”
Bjorn laughed breathily into his mate’s mouth and humped his hips forward into Dennis’s hand. He pulled back from their kiss just enough to whisper, “Let me, too.”
“Be my guest.” Dennis scraped his teeth over the thin skin of Bjorn’s neck, then bit gently.
Oh god, teeth. Bjorn shuddered, but managed to get a hand around Dennis’s cock and begin stroking it in the same rhythm Dennis was stroking him.
Dennis’s hot breath against his neck raised goosebumps on his skin, and he buried his lips in Dennis’s hair and whimpered weakly.
He could already feel his orgasm rising despite the fact that they’d only been at this for a few minutes.
“Gotta…” he gasped. “Gotta slow down, or…”
Dennis snorted and raised his head to meet Bjorn’s eyes. His smirk was a thing of beauty. “Come for me, mate. We’ll have plenty of time to go slow later.”
Later. Wow. There was going to be a later. Holy fuck. That realization, combined with Dennis’s hand moving just a bit faster, was too much for him. Bjorn came with a deep groan, all over both their stomachs. He wilted into Dennis’s shoulder for a long moment of bliss as the shocks tore through him.
Dennis chuckled in evident satisfaction. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He gently turned them back into the spray and rinsed them clean, then picked the body wash up again. “Let’s finish up in here and go to bed.”
“But…you…” Bjorn realized his hand had fallen lax around Dennis’s cock, and he tightened it and began stroking again. “You didn’t come yet.”
Dennis shook his head and gently redirected Bjorn’s hand to his belly. “Nope, I didn’t. But once we get to bed, all bets are off. I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
“Oh, god.”
“Is that a complaint?” Dennis asked with a raised eyebrow, scrubbing Bjorn’s pits in a businesslike manner.
“Definitely not.” Bjorn allowed himself to be maneuvered back into the water to rinse, then leaned down to kiss his mate again. “You can have me any time you want me, love.”
“Mmm, good.” They switched and Dennis gave himself a distracted wash-down as well. “I hope you have lube, because – Fuck!” he yelped as the water pouring down on them abruptly turned frigid.
Oh god, that was freezing. Bjorn shot a hand out and slapped at the shower knob, turning off the water as quickly as he could. “Shit.”
Dennis shivered. “Shit, indeed.” He laughed. “At least that didn’t happen mid-getting you off. That would have ruined the mood.”
Bjorn shook his head. “I’ve got to talk to Gran about upgrading her water heater.”
“Ok, let’s not talk about your grandmother while we’re standing here naked preparing to fuck,” Dennis said, wrinkling his nose.
Oh, that was fair. “Right, sorry.” He grabbed two towels off the rack, wrapped one around his hips, and unfurled the other to start drying his mate. He patted Dennis dry, surprised that the man was allowing him to do it and seemed to even be enjoying the attention.
“Your hair,” Dennis pointed out, and seized a third towel to blot Bjorn’s dripping locks. He clumsily tried to make a turban of the towel for Bjorn, but couldn’t quite manage it.
Bjorn grinned. Clearly his mate had never had long hair.
“I’ll get it.” He tucked Dennis’s towel around him and stepped back just enough to towel the water out of his own hair.
While he might normally wrap his hair up to dry over a longer period, if they were going to be rolling around in bed, which he sincerely hoped they would be, a turban would just be one more thing for them to get tangled in.
“You look like a drowned chihuahua,” Dennis teased, picking up a piece of Bjorn’s damp, dangling hair. “I mean, a sexy drowned chihuahua, but still.”
“A sexy…drowned chihuahua?” Bjorn asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically. “Is there something you need to tell me about your proclivities, mate?”
Dennis chuckled. “Don’t get smart with me, dickhead. C’mon.” He opened the bathroom door, peeked out to make sure Gran hadn’t snuck in, and then tugged Bjorn toward the bed.