Chapter Seventeen #2
“Nice job.” He paused. “You want to do the other one too?”
Alex grinned brightly and situated themself before pulling the shield back down and lighting the torch.
Before they knew it, the legs were done, and Austin and Alex carried them into the house.
The things were as heavy as the tabletop, and assembling it anywhere but on-site would be nonsensical, so they set the enormous hunk of metal in the kitchen to await assembly.
But it looked a bit sad without its other half.
Not that Austin could fix that, since he didn’t know the status of it.
So for now, Austin’s legs were without their top. Heh.
Alex agreed to stay for dinner—some of Joe’s leftovers—and accepted a cup of cocoa while they waited for Joe to get home.
They were sitting together at the dining room table, drinking their cocoa with whipped cream and crushed candy canes.
Alex wasn’t exactly a talkative kid, but they were quieter than usual as they sipped their drink and fiddled with a spoon.
They opened their mouth as if to say something, then sighed and took a sip of cocoa.
Austin was starting to wonder if they were building up to something when the front door opened and Pepa and Walker bolted from the kitchen.
“Looks like Joe’s home.”
Alex nodded. “Can’t sneak in, can he?”
“Nope. Walker’s a stalker,” Austin agreed and stood up to pull the leftover enchiladas out of the fridge.
Alex had to run after dinner—they realized they’d forgotten about an assignment that was due the next day—so it was just Joe and Austin cleaning up the kitchen.
“Good day?” Joe asked. He waggled one of the empty cocoa mugs with the dregs of candy cane.
“Treat after Alex helped me finish the legs for the table. Well deserved. They’re a natural with a welder.”
“Yeah?” Joe asked, voice full of dad pride.
“Yup. Was able to finish the legs up faster than expected. They’re all ready to go. Just need the top.”
Joe waggled his eyebrows, and Austin snapped him with a towel.
“Well, lucky for your bottom, the top’s ready to go. I polished up the wood last night.”
Austin groaned and definitely did not think about Joe getting well oiled wood into his bottom. “So we could assemble it tonight?”
“If you wish,” Joe said amiably.
Forty minutes later, they stood admiring their new kitchen island.
Joe gave the surface one last polish, not that it needed it, and stepped back next to Austin. “Not bad.”
“If you do say so yourself,” Austin teased.
Joe knocked their shoulders together and grinned. “We make a good team.”
The table’s mix of their skills—of wood and metal, natural and man-made—was impressive.
It worked in a sort of seamless way that felt counterintuitive.
Looking at the table set Austin’s heart thumping with a rush of affection.
Without thinking, he turned, wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck, and kissed him.
Joe groaned into the kiss and snaked his own arms around Austin’s torso to pull him closer.
“Furniture-making get you going?” he gasped.
Austin huffed. “Nah, just your wood.”
Joe laughed and pulled him in for another kiss. “Keep making jokes like that and it’ll get you laid,” he warned.
“Mm,” Austin hummed and tilted his head back to give Joe access. “What about heavy petting on the couch?”
“Oh, that I can definitely do,” Joe promised between nibbles.
They shuffled toward the living room, neither of them wanting to let go.
So it was several minutes before Austin found himself stretched out on his back with Joe’s solid weight above him, a dirty mirror of their cuddle the other night.
He could get used to Joe the personal heater, especially if he kept being so obliging.
“You like this,” he murmured against the skin of Austin’s neck.
Sure, if by like this you meant all Austin’s blood had rushed to his dick and he’d lost voluntary motor function below the waist. His hips kept hitching up toward Joe without his conscious input.
Austin didn’t think he could be blamed; Joe had a pretty mouth and obviously knew how to use it, and guys exchanging hand jobs in bar bathrooms didn’t tend to go right for Austin’s throat like this. It was the novelty factor.
Having Joe’s weight pinning him to the couch wasn’t terrible either.
“Yeah, baby,” Austin managed, much smoother than he expected, “I like it.”
Joe scraped his teeth up the side of Austin’s neck. “Not baby,” he grumbled. The sharp pressure of a bite followed, just enough to hurt in the good way, as Joe shoved his thigh firmly between Austin’s legs.
Someone made a desperate sound—they were close enough together for Austin to have plausible deniability—and Austin worked one of his thighs open to better slot Joe between them and hooked his ankle around Joe’s back.
He couldn’t touch Joe properly like this, but he could score his nails over Joe’s scalp to the back of his neck until he shuddered.
“No?” God, he felt good. Joe’s thick, solid thigh made a perfect surface to rut against, and the pressure against his balls and taint sent something zinging through Austin’s body.
“Hnn.” Joe had released Austin’s neck, but he left his head tucked there, his breath hot and tantalizing in Austin’s ear, which somehow felt even better than the pressure on Austin’s dick.
“You, uh—” Joe tongued his Adam’s apple. Austin forgot how to make words for a handful of seconds. Then, “You want a substitute?”
It wasn’t like Austin had forgotten their first trip down this road.
Joe wanted Austin to say his name, repeatedly.
Austin couldn’t blame him; everyone liked a little ego stroking.
But Austin had never gotten to tease a partner, and he was enjoying it.
“One that’s just for you?” He curled his fingers in Joe’s hair and tugged a little, pulled back until he could see Joe’s face. “How about ‘sweet thing’?”
It wasn’t supposed to be serious, but Joe flushed scarlet to the roots of the hair Austin was still holding and thrust down against him a little too uncontrolled to be on purpose, and—okay, right, Joe wanted Austin to call him sweet thing while they made out. That got him hot.
What the fuck, why did that make Austin’s brain feel like it had boiled over?
Joe kissed him again, and Austin decided he didn’t care, even if this meant he couldn’t use this new knowledge to his advantage.
But then Joe pulled away, still bright red, and squashed himself sideways on the couch next to Austin instead of on top of him. Not ideal—now Austin was cold, sliding dangerously toward the floor, and sadly dick-frictionless. “What—” he squawked.
Joe wrapped an arm around him before gravity could finish him off and pulled him back onto the couch, on his side this time, so their chests were pressed together. “Sorry, uh.”
Austin blinked.
Joe’s cheeks were scarlet. “I’m too old to dry-hump to orgasm.”
On the one hand, Austin definitely wasn’t cold anymore. A wave of heat had just washed right over him. He’d been enjoying himself, obviously—he was hard and there was a damp patch in his underwear—but he wasn’t in danger of coming in his pants.
Joe was, apparently, which was… surprising. Hot. Interesting.
“What got to you?” Austin asked. It had to be something. Austin’s neck was pretty nice, but not have-an-orgasm-about-it nice.
“I’m not answering that,” Joe said. “You got enough ammunition tonight.”
Fair. Austin would figure it out soon enough. “Okay,” he agreed. “Different question—do you think I can get off the couch without falling on my ass?”