|| Chapter Twenty-Two || Sebastian – “Stay tonight?” #3
Sebastian poured more oil into his hand and warmed it quickly before returning to him.
This time, his strokes were slower and less easy to pretend were only massage.
He ran one hand up Marcos’ hamstring, over the curve of his ass, then down between his cheeks, fingers gliding through the slick oil before smoothing away.
His other hand moved beneath him, sliding along Marcos’ cock from base to head as far as the angle allowed.
Marcos’ hips pushed down against the table.
Sebastian watched the head of his cock drag against the padding again, slick and leaking, and had to bite his lower lip before he made a sound.
He wrapped his fingers around Marcos’ shaft as much as he could from behind, stroking him once, slow and awkward at the angle, then let his hand slip back to his balls.
He rolled them gently in his palm, thumb brushing underneath while his other fingers returned to Marcos’ ass.
The next stroke between his cheeks went deeper.
Marcos’ back arched slightly.
Sebastian repeated the motion. Up Marcos’ thigh, across his balls, along the underside of his cock, then back over the heavy curve of his ass. His fingers slid between the cheeks again, slick and warm, moving further this time until they brushed directly over Marcos’ hole.
Marcos’ whole body reacted.
His hips pushed back into Sebastian’s fingers. His shoulders tensed. His cock twitched against Sebastian’s hand, more precum leaking onto the padding beneath him.
Sebastian ran his fingers over him again.
“Fuck,” he moaned.
“You like that?” Sebastian asked, running his fingers over Marcos’ hole again with a little more pressure.
“Yeah, fuck.” The words came out broken, and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself.
He didn’t push in. He kept it at pressure and movement, circling slowly, dragging oil over the tight ring of muscle, then sliding away to stroke Marcos’ cock again.
Marcos’ breath came rougher now, each sound feeding something in Sebastian until his own cock throbbed against the front of his briefs.
Sebastian’s hand slid to Marcos’ ass, spreading him with one palm while the fingers of the other hand traced over his hole again. Marcos pushed back into the touch.
He glided lower, palming Marcos’ cock from beneath, rubbing him against the table in a slow, firm stroke before cupping his balls and rolling them gently.
Then back up. Inner thigh. Ass. Slick fingers over his hole.
The same path, again and again, until Marcos’ body started anticipating it before Sebastian got there.
His back would tense. His hips would shift. His breath would catch right before Sebastian touched him where he wanted it.
Marcos’ hand shifted near the edge of the table.
Sebastian thought he was reaching for the padding at first, trying to grip something. Then Marcos’ fingers found Sebastian’s thigh and moved higher, searching blindly until his knuckles brushed the front of Sebastian’s briefs.
Sebastian paused as Marcos’ palm settled over his bulge, warm and broad through the red fabric.
His breath caught.
“You don’t have—” Sebastian started, but Marcos cut in, voice even rougher.
“Shut up.”
Marcos’ hand pressed firmer against him.
Sebastian looked down, watching Marcos palm him through the briefs with slow, uneven strokes. His touch was clumsy. But the intent was there. Marcos’ fingers dragged over the outline of Sebastian’s cock through the fabric, then circled back and pressed again.
Sebastian’s hands returned to Marcos’ body, one sliding over his ass, the other moving beneath him again. He stroked Marcos from behind, fingers slick with oil, palm dragging over the shaft. Marcos groaned into the table, and his hand tightened over Sebastian’s briefs in response.
The rhythm built between them slowly.
Sebastian’s fingers circled Marcos’ hole, and Marcos’ palm rubbed over Sebastian’s cock.
Sebastian slid down to stroke him, and Marcos’ hand lost rhythm before finding it again.
Each time Sebastian touched his ass, Marcos pressed harder.
Each time Marcos pressed harder, Sebastian’s own control thinned.
Marcos’ hand was warm through his briefs, and the fabric dragged against Sebastian’s cock with every rough pass. Sebastian’s knees felt less reliable than they should have, and when Marcos’ fingers curled around him through the red material, Sebastian had to swallow before he could speak.
“Alright, turn over,” Sebastian said.
Marcos didn’t wait, pushing himself up and turning over. His cock rested heavily on his stomach, leaking even more. As he settled, his hand found Sebastian’s waistband again and tugged at it.
“Take them off,” he muttered, eyelids half-closed, mouth twitching.
Sebastian did what he was told, taking his briefs off and placing them with the rest of his clothes. Marcos’ hand found his cock right away, running up the length of it.
“Good boy,” Marcos mimicked, and Sebastian’s cock twitched. “Oh, you like that, too?”
Sebastian didn’t respond and just rolled his eyes, walking back down to the foot of the massage table. His hands settled on Marcos’ ankles, thumbs brushing over the skin above his heels before sliding slowly higher.
Marcos lay bare in front of him, oil still shining across his thighs, cock heavy against his stomach.
Sebastian’s grip tightened around Marcos’ ankles, planning what to do next.