Chapter Seven #3
“Don’t get me wrong; dried come has its place in the slutty hookup.” Aubrey gently worked Nate’s thighs and stomach and then eased the rough cloth over his cock and balls. “But since we’re going for round two, I want a clean slate.” He looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “No glue-come handicap.”
“That seems… fair,” Nate said, biting back a hiss as Aubrey swirled the cloth over the head of his dick. It was still too sensitive to feel good, exactly, but some part of his body hadn’t gotten the memo, because his hips bucked up into it anyway.
Aubrey snorted. “I hope we can do better than ‘fair.’” Then he had Nate’s oversensitive dick in his mouth, hot and wet and gentle.
It felt like his whole body wanted to turn inside out. Aubrey knew exactly what he was doing. The dark, close room filled with the slick wet noise of Aubrey’s mouth and Nate’s ragged breathing.
The moment Nate gave himself over to the pleasure and stopped bracing himself against it, Aubrey coaxed his thighs apart and went in with two fingers, smooth as anything, like he knew Nate’s body could take what it craved.
Nate submitted to thirty seconds of necessary stretching only because he’d been up close with Aubrey’s dick and he had to sit still on a plane tomorrow, but before he could even nudge Aubrey to move on with it, he was curling his fingers up instead, making Nate swear and fist the sheets.
“You should,” Nate began, but Aubrey was already withdrawing his fingers and making an impatient motion for Nate to turn over.
“I’m gonna,” he promised, arranging Nate’s hips.
Nate almost laughed. They’d spent four weeks sniping at each other, and all it took to get them agreeing on everything was—
“Now would be good,” Nate prompted, but the last word came out strangled because Aubrey slid in deep, one smooth thrust that Nate felt in his tonsils.
Okay, yes. Hookup sex. That was a thing.
“Jesus Christ,” said Aubrey, sounding exactly like Nate felt. “Your ass is criminally undersexed.”
This time Nate did laugh, and Aubrey made a sound like he was dying and dug his fingers hard into Nate’s hips to hold him still. “What’re you gonna do?” he asked, biting down on a moan as Aubrey pulled out. “Arrest—fuck—arrest it?”
“Nnnnno.” Aubrey grunted in apparent dissatisfaction and then leaned over his back and shoved Nate’s shoulders toward the mattress. Nate’s breath hitched as Aubrey nailed the angle to hit his prostate just right. “I think… it can be… rehabilitated.”
Nate could only nod in agreement.
Together they set a punishing rhythm. Nate spared half a thought for the room’s neighbors, but then Aubrey laced their fingers together and guided Nate’s hand to his cock, and that killed any misguided civic-mindedness.
Aubrey didn’t ask if he was okay or draw it out or attempt anything fancy.
He seemed happy to fuck Nate until his teeth rattled, chasing the high of orgasm until a particularly brutal thrust sent Nate cursing over the edge, coming over his hand in spasms that felt like they were wringing his whole body dry.
Aubrey fucked in another handful of times, and then his hips stuttered as his fingers clenched bruisingly tight on Nate’s skin.
The world took several moments to right itself. Nate realized he’d collapsed into the wet spot and honestly couldn’t give a fuck. Aubrey pulled out and flopped beside him on the bed, gasping up at the ceiling.
Nate’s freshly Zamboni’d brain was blissfully, completely silent.
“So filthy, no-strings-attached sex, huh?” he said after a moment, half muffled by the pillow. With great effort, he turned his head. “Who knew.”
Aubrey held up a finger without otherwise moving. “Don’t forget the ‘hottest guy you can find’ part.”
Nate’s mouth made a noise that might have been agreement if it could’ve found a brain cell capable of conveying it.
After a moment Aubrey groaned, pulled off the condom, and snagged another of the washcloths from the bed. Nate grabbed one too, wondering if he couldn’t ameliorate some of the damage. He felt bad for the hotel cleaning staff.
“I think traditionally this is the part where I kick you out.” Nate fought the urge to giggle into the pillow, but a snicker sneaked out. “But considering the conditions, I’m okay with breaking protocol for one night.”
“And my mom said my philandering would never get me anywhere.” Aubrey flung a cloth toward the washroom.
“I reserve the right to kick you out of bed for snoring, though.” With effort, Nate dragged himself into the bathroom.
Just a quick shower, and then he could crash.
But when he returned, suddenly self-conscious enough that he’d put on the track pants he brought for working out, Aubrey was sitting up in bed watching Sports Night with a room service tray.
“I worked up an appetite,” he said sheepishly. “My treat. Got you the salmon, but if you’d rather the tenderloin, I’ll trade.”
Nate’s stomach growled on cue. Apparently a few dates and fries hadn’t been enough for him either. “Salmon sounds great.”
At first, it was odd to eat dinner in bed next to a guy who’d just fucked his brains out.
It felt like a date gone backward. Then Aubrey said something stupid about the show and that feeling disappeared—and Nate realized that the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders for God knew how long had left too.
Maybe there was something to this hookup thing after all.