Chapter Nineteen #2
Joe barked a laugh. “God, probably. Why, you thinking about leaving me for Uncle Luca? The way he looked at you when you were talking about the Ferrari, I thought he might propose.”
Speaking of heated seats, Austin flipped his on and snuggled back against the headrest. “How dare you. You’ve seen the car I drive. My affections cannot be bought with money or automobiles. Only houses and house pets and asshole teenagers.”
He felt more than saw Joe’s eyes on him as they passed under a rare streetlight on a back country road. “Bullshit,” Joe said. “You’re also a slut for homemade dinners and red wine.”
God, Austin liked him so much it felt like he might burst with it. It was a heady feeling and a terrifying one. Austin had never had a boyfriend before, but he’d never had a family either—never had so much to lose if this went sour.
Please, please don’t let it go sour.
“Tell you a secret,” he said, a handful of tire rotations before they reached the driveway.
“Mm,” Joe said again.
Austin nudged the bottle braced between his thighs. “The wine’s not really necessary.”
Linda had messaged midafternoon when the Romanos were serving up the Christmas feast, which Austin hadn’t seen until his kitchen self-banishment.
I’ve stolen your dog for the day so you don’t have to worry about her. The cats are in the breezeway. Merry Christmas and see you in the morning!
Now Austin thought warmly of her as he considered the empty house that awaited. Nothing and no one stood between him and Joe enjoying each other the moment they walked in. The moment they shed their boots and coats, Austin pounced.
He twined his arms around Joe’s shoulders and pulled him into a scorching kiss. After two days of family time and Christmas cheer and tradition, Austin was warmed from toes to head, full of happiness and affection like he couldn’t remember. And he had Joe to thank.
He had very specific thoughts about how to thank him.
“Fuck,” Joe whispered, sucking bruises into Austin’s neck.
Austin moaned and agreed, “Yes, that.”
Joe chuckled. “Thinking about fucking me again?”
Austin had definitely thought about that since the first night. But he was also aware of the deal they’d struck. He licked his lips and said, “I think it’s your turn.”
Joe froze, then pulled back enough to look Austin in the eye. “Are you sure?”
Austin didn’t bottom with his random hookups. He didn’t trust them enough to be so vulnerable. But Joe wasn’t a random hookup.
Instead of answering aloud, he leaned in for another kiss. Hopefully the passionate press of lips and tongue would hide his uncertainty. Besides, it didn’t need to be his favorite physical experience if it brought him closer to Joe in this specific intimate way.
Joe gripped his hips and guided him backward, pushing and shoving him with a clear goal in mind, but when Austin pulled back to gasp for air, he found they were farther from the master bedroom, not closer.
“What?”
“I had an idea about you and the table.”
Austin swallowed, flushing at the thought. “The table?”
“Well, you did make it hip height for me.”
“Oh.” He swallowed, flushing with heat. “A happy accident.”
“Think our work is strong enough to hold you?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“I’ve got faith in us,” Joe said, and then he gripped Austin under the thighs and hoisted him onto the table.
Austin grunted and pushed his tongue into Joe’s mouth to muffle it. Manhandling hadn’t been a major feature in his sex life before, but it looked like Joe was keen to make it a regular occurrence.
The next few minutes passed in a blur of kisses and touches and hasty clothing removal.
“The problem,” Austin gasped as Joe bit his neck.
“Hmm?”
“Wha—? Oh, the problem with the table is the lack of, of lube—oh!”
Joe pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “That’s not a problem,” he asserted. Then he pulled up a chair as if settling in for a feast and then… got eating.
Austin arched his back, stunned by the touch of Joe’s tongue against his hole. He’d never—
Joe didn’t seem to have any such inexperience.
He pressed in so he could lick, swipe, and stab.
With nothing else to grab apart from the smooth surface of the island, Austin tangled his fingers in his own hair and gasped at the ceiling, stunned.
His thighs trembled under Joe’s hands, Joe’s fingers pressing into the muscle as he held Austin open.
There’s a tongue—that’s Joe’s tongue in my ass, oh my God.
The filthy thought made it hotter. So did the dirty, sloppy, wet sounds Joe was making.
The longer he ate, the louder he got, and the louder Austin got in turn. He couldn’t… he—
Joe pulled back gasping and—Austin peeked down between his legs—looking at Austin’s wet hole. Austin slammed his eyes shut and shuddered. A trembling moan escaped him when Joe placed a teasing, closed-mouth kiss to the twitching muscle.
“Good?” Joe breathed, the word a hot whisper on wet, stubble-burned skin.
Austin let out a shaky laugh, incredulous.
As if Joe didn’t know. Austin would be lucky if Linda hadn’t heard him moaning.
“Yeah, sweet thing, feels real good, but you’re gonna need to work a little harder if you want me to take your cock.
” If they had to abandon the plan to fuck on the table, well, there was always next time.
“I can work harder,” Joe promised the top of Austin’s thigh.
Maybe Austin should’ve phrased that differently. It was the lube situation he was worried about, not Joe’s work ethic. But he didn’t need to; a second later Joe mouthed sloppily at the base of Austin’s cock and a plastic click echoed through the kitchen.
Austin twitched at the sound, felt Joe smile into the crease of his thigh. “Did you… did you have lube in your pocket all day?” At Christmas with your family?
The blunt pressure of a fingertip sliding in the wet mess around his hole. Joe sucked gently at his balls. “Wanted to be prepared.”
“To fuck me as soon as we got in the door? I’m—” Joe pushed the finger inside. Austin breathed through it, let his thighs fall open farther. It felt—strange, but good. “I’m flattered.”
The strangeness evaporated in a spark of pleasure as Joe curled his finger up to press on Austin’s prostate. Precome blurted from his cock as his hips tried to thrust upward, but he didn’t have any leverage; his heels were hanging off the side of the table.
At least until Joe decided Austin’s left thigh was in the way of him getting fingered properly, and propped it up on his own shoulder.
“Okay?” Joe asked, hoarse and breathless, like he was the one with two fingers in his ass and Austin’s mouth between his legs, sucking bites onto his thighs.
“Good,” Austin told him, shamelessly using Joe’s shoulder to lift his hips.
Fuck it, he basically asked for this, and Joe’s fingers—he was playing Austin a lot better than he played piano, and he was pretty good at the piano.
The world started melting around the edges.
Austin scrabbled his nails against the tabletop.
He felt like he might fly off it. “One more.”
Joe obeyed immediately, no second-guessing, which Austin appreciated even if the stretch burned.
But he couldn’t focus on that when Joe was fucking three fingers into him, not particularly carefully, but controlled enough to hit the right spot every fourth stroke or so, so that Austin’s dick was hard and leaking.
He could feel the precome dripping down his cock, over his balls, down to where Joe was fucking in and out of him.
Austin couldn’t have said what did it, if it was the squelching noise, the breadth of Joe’s fingers, or just weeks of anticipation, but something—the slack-jawed expression on Joe’s face, the way he was looking at Austin like his own personal Christmas miracle—was the last straw.
He leveraged his right foot up too, hooked it around the back of Joe’s neck, nudged him up.
“Joe.” He meant to sound demanding; the word emerged plaintive. “Give me your cock.”
He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Joe hadn’t scrambled to pull himself to his feet, to lube his dick with a hand Austin could see plainly, even in the dark, was shaking.
Begged, maybe, but he didn’t want to, and Joe didn’t seem to need it.
He pulled Austin toward the edge of the table with two hands under his ass, and holy fuck that was Joe’s cock sliding between his asscheeks, nudging against his open hole—
“Fuck,” Joe said brokenly as the tip of him pushed inside.
Fuck, Austin agreed as he arched his back on the table. Pleasure rocketed up and down his spine, and he curled his leg to pull Joe forward. His hearing went out, his eyes rolled back in his head, his muscles clenched, and—
Joe’s hips slapped against his ass and the head of his cock ground into Austin’s prostate.
“God,” Austin said—thought he said—he didn’t hear the word as it escaped him, but he shaped it on his lips as his breath caught in his throat and his dick spasmed between them, shooting up his chest.
Above him, Joe stilled, chest heaving, eyes dark and wanting as he ran them up Austin’s body. “Did you just—?”
Austin didn’t have the blood to spare for a flush or the brain space for embarrassment. His body still crackled with electricity. He wanted more. “Don’t stop,” he demanded, light-headed.
Joe swallowed audibly but didn’t argue. He gently rolled his hips, as if testing Austin’s ability to keep going. But Austin hadn’t been lying; the body was as willing as the mind.
As Joe slowly pressed back in, his cock slid over Austin’s prostate once again, sending shivery sparks to the tips of his toes. Austin arched his back. God, it was—