Chapter Ten #3
Fuck, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Austin blinked at him, tilting his head. A teasing smile lifted the edges of his lips. “You have trouble pulling out?”
God damn it. Joe groaned, slouching on the couch. “Give me a break.”
“I mean, that would explain how you ended up with four kids—”
Joe flipped him off. “Don’t make fun of me. It feels like it’s been that long since I got laid.”
Austin hooted. “God, and I thought fixing up the house was putting a crimp in my sex life. How long’s it been for you? I’m guessing eighteen years is a stretch.”
“I don’t wanna do the math. It’s depressing. Spring sometime, I think.” Last spring, but Austin didn’t need to know that.
Austin made a noise of disbelief. “You think?” He looked aghast.
Joe groaned again. “We gotta talk about something else,” he complained. “Fucking red wine. Disaster.”
A glance into the wineglass, then back at Joe. An eyebrow went up. “I’m not making the connection.”
Fuck, Joe was going to have to say it out loud? He sighed. “I forgot red wine makes me horny.”
“Are you sure it’s not just the dry spell?”
Joe rubbed his fingers against his thigh in an attempt to distract himself, uncomfortably aware of the fact that the subject had had a predictable effect that was probably visible in his jeans.
“Although….”
Something in Austin’s tone made Joe look over. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “What?”
“I was just thinking the wine would explain my problem too.”
Joe’s heart thudded in his ears. Was Austin suggesting…? “Oh?”
“Maybe we could help each other out with that.”
Somewhere in the back of Joe’s brain, a little voice started to say, Hey, remember why this is a bad idea? Joe’s neglected libido shoved a gag in it and took over Joe’s stupid wine-drunk mouth to say, “Flip a coin to see who tops? Loser gets next time.”
It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had for more reasons than Joe was going to give passing consideration. The only one that mattered right now was What if Austin loses this coin toss and backs out of the whole thing because he’s not into being fucked.
But Austin didn’t back down, he just laughed. “Seriously?”
Joe narrowed his eyes. “We could wrestle for it if you prefer.” He dug in his pocket and came up with a nickel. “Call it.”
Somehow he still expected Austin to flinch. To back out. To roll his eyes and pass the whole thing off as the same kind of joke as his pillow-princess accusation.
But the coin had barely left Joe’s thumb when Austin called, “Tails.”
It was kind of funny, Joe thought, when the thing landed. “Huh,” he said.
Across the room, Austin’s eyes had gone dark. “Hmm?”
Joe flicked the coin toward him. “Bet you’ve never been so glad to see a beaver.”
Austin’s gaze went predatory. That was cute, Joe thought. Maybe that control-freak allegation had been as much a shot in the dark as the pillow-princess one.
But no way was Joe leaving this up to chance. He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the living room until he was standing in front of Austin’s chair, their feet almost touching. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have an alley handy—”
He reached down and hauled Austin to his feet. The minuscule space between them crackled with electricity.
“—and I don’t think the bathroom counter is really up for the job unless you wanna redo that before Christmas too—”
“Should I make another guess?” Austin asked. “You’re all talk and no action?”
Joe barked a laugh. “You’re so bad at this. Some of us can talk and fuck at the same time.”
“Prove it,” Austin said, eyes flashing. And then he added, because he was hilarious and kind of a shithead, “Baby.”
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Joe kissed him.
They stumbled toward Joe’s bedroom, half tripping over stray furniture, occasionally bumping into walls.
They really needed to get some overhead lighting.
But by the time they got to the bed, the only casualties were Austin’s hoodie and Joe’s T-shirt, along with the cats’ respect at their clumsiness.
Austin shut the door behind them, and Joe dragged him onto the bed and tumbled them onto it.
How long had it been since he’d felt this kind of rush?
The anticipation burned through him as they pulled at each other’s clothing.
Austin tasted like Chianti and kissed like he hadn’t eaten in a year.
His skin was hot and smooth under Joe’s hands, his fingers demanding and firm on Joe’s body.
When Joe rolled them on the mattress so he could reach for the bedside table, he braced himself on his right hand and accidentally caught Austin’s hair under it.
Austin hissed and arched his back, rubbing his dick against Joe’s ass.
Yeah, it had definitely been too long since Joe took someone to bed. He dropped the lube and condoms onto the mattress.
There was a fruitless scramble to get out of the rest of their clothes. The wine buzz didn’t help. Eventually Joe laughed into Austin’s mouth and pulled back. “Fuck it, take off your own pants.”
For a second he thought Austin would argue on principle, but after a beat he just said, “You know what? Good plan,” and pushed Joe off him.
Rude.
But then they were naked and Joe could drink his fill of Austin’s lean, compact body—the muscle definition in his arms and chest, the dark trail of curly hair between his pecs leading down, the frankly gorgeous cock lying plump and hard against his stomach.
Okay, yeah. Joe could definitely work with this.
“Nice,” he said appreciatively as he reached out to give Austin’s dick a slow stroke.
Austin made a close-mouthed sound and thrust into it. Then he fumbled in the covers for the bottle. “Wait ’til you feel it from the inside.”
Joe wanted to laugh—would’ve laughed—but somehow Austin already had the lube open and his fingers wet, and he smeared them over Joe’s hole without preamble. The laugh died before it could escape his lungs. “Jesus—do those lines work on people?”
“Who needs lines?” Austin said breathlessly and pushed his fingers inside.
Brat.
Joe leaned into the touch, savoring the feeling.
Austin crooked his fingers, and Joe cursed. Why had he let it go so long? Sure, he maybe would prefer to top most days, but tonight he had no complaints. He tipped his hips for a better angle and demanded, “There. Like that.”
Austin huffed. “Bossy. Should have known.” But he followed Joe’s directions.
“Don’t you want to know that you’re making me feel good?” He moaned as Austin got the angle just right. Austin’s eyes went darker, and he redoubled his efforts. No matter what else he said, he clearly liked the feedback and encouragement—and some direction.
“Of course I do… baby.” Austin smirked and pressed.
Joe was too busy moaning to protest the dumb pet name. “Get dressed so we can do the fun part.” Then Joe proceeded to ignore his own words, snatched up the condom from the bed, and tore it open. With fumbling hands—stupid wine, stupid fingers—Joe slid it down Austin’s perfect length.
Austin grunted under Joe’s touch, and he paused for a few more strokes. God, it was such a pretty cock. Joe couldn’t wait.
Speaking of….
Joe pulled himself off Austin’s fingers and straddled his waist, keeping hold of Austin’s dick so he could hold it steady as he sank onto it.
Austin clung to Joe’s hips and gasped openmouthed. When his ass met Austin’s hips, Joe paused a moment, adjusting to the feel. He squeezed down and then released. Austin grunted and stared up at Joe.
Joe could work with this.
He pulled up, and when only the head of Austin’s dick remained, Joe clenched and slid all the way back down.
“Fuck!” Austin bucked and tightened his grip. Joe was going to bruise. “You’re—you’re so good at this.” Austin licked his lips. “Baby.”
Joe narrowed his eyes, and Austin smirked. Right. Time to get Austin to scream his name. Just because it had been a while didn’t mean Joe had forgotten how to do this.
Adjusting his stance, Joe went to town, riding Austin like he was the prize bull at the rodeo. Beneath him, Austin panted and groaned, staring up at Joe wide-eyed and heated, clearly enjoying the view.
But that was a little too good. If Joe was going to get only one ride on this cock, he was getting his money’s worth. Austin could lay back and look pretty and let Joe have his fun.
Joe slowed to a grind, hardly lifting his hips, clenching and watching Austin fall apart beneath him. The stimulation definitely wasn’t enough for him. He squirmed and tried to buck, but Joe’s thighs were stronger.
Joe twisted his hips, breathless. That delicious length was pressing just right against his prostate. He leaned forward, ran his nails over Austin’s pecs, and caught his nipples.
“Fuck,” Austin gasped as he raked his fingers down Joe’s thighs, trying to spur him on. “Move. Baby.”
“That’s not my name.” He pinched and clenched, and Austin lost it.
“Fuck. Joe. Please!” He scrambled to find purchase on Joe’s hips, trying to push and pull him into movement.
“Say it again,” Joe teased.
“Please,” Austin begged, “Joe.”
Such good behaviour deserved a reward. “Good boy,” Joe teased and pecked a quick kiss to Austin’s slack mouth. Then he straightened up, leaned back, and fucked himself until Austin was groaning and coming beneath him.
He looked obscene doing it, head thrown back, skin flushed and sweaty. It was that as much as the sweet pressure of him in Joe’s ass and his hand, loose on his cock because the lube was drying out, that pushed him over the edge.
Finally his thighs wouldn’t lift him anymore, so he rested his weight on Austin’s hips and legs, his chest heaving, as he came back to himself. Austin’s eyes were still closed. When he opened them a second later, they were dazed, unfocused. He looked like someone had slapped him silly.
Joe was going to feel really smug about that. Just as soon as he got enough blood circulating in his brain to feel more than hnnng. He’d come all over Austin’s chest. He was going to be smug about that too.
Who’s the pillow princess now?
But he only got a few seconds to bask, because Austin took a deep breath, regained his faculties, and complained, “You’re heavy.”
“Yeah, well, you’re filthy,” Joe shot back, but he wrangled himself up and off to the side almost without falling over. The red wine reminded him it existed at the last moment, and he lost his balance and went face-first into the pillows. “Go bring me a washcloth.”
Austin wrinkled his nose. “Why do I have to get it? I’m the one who’s going to drip everywhere.”
“Top handles cleanup. Them’s the rules.”
“I feel like these rules should’ve been negotiated along with the coin toss,” Austin grumbled, but he got up. A few seconds later, Joe heard the water in the bathroom come on.
When he returned, he threw a washcloth at Joe’s head, and Joe caught it without looking—pure luck.
Austin didn’t get back into bed, so when Joe finished with the cloth, he looked up.
Austin had put his boxers back on, and he was standing awkwardly in the doorway. His hair was a whole disaster. Joe could’ve spent the whole night running his hands through it, the way it looked. He was pissed he hadn’t, and equally pissed he was going to pass out now before he had a chance to.
Joe blinked at him. “What are you doing? Get back in bed before you freeze to death, Jesus. Or, shit, do you think we have to let Pepa out first?”
“I’ll get her,” Austin said. “Yeah… be right back.”
The wine and the orgasm combined with the busy day and conspired to drag Joe’s eyelids down. Somewhere in the house, a door opened and closed.
The pillow swallowed Joe up.
Some time later, the mattress dipped once, deeply. Then three more dips, just in the covers this time, as the cats rejoined them. One of them walked unsteadily up the mattress until it was curled up by Joe’s head. Walker, he assumed.
“Night,” Austin said.
Joe didn’t answer, already mostly asleep.