Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brogan
Brogan returned to the bedroom, his bare feet padding against the hardwood floor, only to find the room empty.
The faint sound of running water and the low hum of a tune carried from the bathroom.
Archie was already in there, belting out some off-key rendition of a pop song under the shower’s spray.
Brogan smirked, his pulse quickening. He crossed the room in a few strides, peeling off his shirt as he went, the fabric catching briefly on his broad shoulders before he tossed it onto the bed.
His jeans followed, kicked off with a little more urgency.
He opened the nightstand drawer, revealing a stash of supplies: a vibrant pack of condoms in every color of the rainbow and a sleek tube of lube that promised “silky-smooth glide.” He plucked a bright red condom from the pack, its wrapper glinting under the lamp’s light, and grabbed the lube, tucking it under his arm.
As he approached the bathroom, the door was ajar, steam curling out in sultry invitation, along with Archie’s voice, now clearly singing to the tile audience. Brogan pushed the door open, the red condom packet dangling between his fingers like a prize.
Archie, half-hidden behind the fogged-up glass of the shower, caught sight of him through the haze.
His song cut off mid-note, replaced by a burst of laughter.
“Oh my God, Brogan, really? Red?” he called out, his voice teasing as he leaned against the tiled wall, water streaming down his lean frame.
“Are we role-playing as firefighters tonight?” He opened the shower door.
Brogan grinned, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s bold. Matches my vibe.” He waved the condom playfully before setting it on the counter. “Besides, you’re the one singing like you’re auditioning for a rock band.”
Archie snorted, flicking water at him through the open shower door. “Get in here, you dork, before I change my mind.”
Brogan didn’t need to be told twice. He paused by the sink, where a wicker basket overflowed with an assortment of rubber bath toys.
He grabbed the basket, setting it on the counter with a dramatic flourish.
“In case we need backup,” he said, winking at Archie, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin.
Brogan tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth, the sharp sound cutting through the steam-filled air.
He rolled it on with practiced ease, the bright red latex a stark contrast against his skin.
Then he grabbed the lube, its cool weight reassuring in his hand, and stepped into the shower.
The warm water hit him like a wave, soaking his hair and running in rivulets down his chest.
Archie passed him the handheld showerhead, its chrome surface slick and warm.
“You’re gonna have to work for it, you know,” Archie teased, turning to face the wall, his hands braced against the tiles.
The water cascaded over his shoulders, highlighting the curve of his spine and the dimples at the small of his back.
“Oh, I’m ready,” Brogan shot back, his voice low and playful. He fiddled with the showerhead’s settings, cycling through the options—pulse, mist, jet—until he landed on a steady, focused stream. “Let’s see how you handle this.”
He grabbed a bottle of body wash from the shower shelf, squirting a generous dollop into his palm.
The scent of citrus filled the air as he worked it into a lather, his hands gliding over Archie’s skin, starting at his shoulders and moving lower.
His fingers were firm but gentle, kneading the tension from Archie’s muscles before slipping down to his ass.
He took his time, soaping thoroughly, his touch both teasing and deliberate, making Archie squirm and let out a soft, impatient huff.
He changed the setting and shot into Archie’s ass until he screamed for him to stop, which he did, then he changed it to a mist that calmed him down.
“That’s better.” Archie said, glancing over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed from more than the hot water.
“Just making sure you’re sparkling,” Brogan replied, his grin wicked.
He adjusted the showerhead again, directing the stream with precision, rinsing away the soap in slow, deliberate sweeps.
The water pulsed against Archie’s skin, drawing a surprised gasp from him as Brogan aimed the spray lower to his front area, teasingly thorough.
“Brogan!” Archie laughed, half-protesting, half-encouraging, his voice echoing in the tiled space. “Stop teasing me.”
Brogan set the showerhead back on its mount, the water now falling in a steady rain around them. “Oh, I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured, stepping closer, the heat of their bodies mingling with the steam as the shower enveloped them in a private, hazy world.
Brogan made Archie face the wall.
“Put your hands up on the ledge to the window.”
Archie faithfully followed Brogan’s request as Brogan grabbed the lube from the shelf, squishing some in his hand, then greased Archie’s crease, slipping a lubed finger inside his entrance.
He wiggled it inside, then slipped in another one, and moved them in him fast and hard.
When his fingers left, Brogan’s hard, slick cock plowed inside.
Archie whimpered when he broke through the muscles. The stretch must have burned a bit. All thoughts left Brogan’s mind when he banged his prostate and heard his sounds of glee. He picked up his pace, shoving his cock deeper and harder with each thrust.
“Harder!” Archie said.
Brogan’s cock continued to nudge his gland while his fingers stroked Archie’s slippery erection. Brogan slammed his cock in so hard Archie’s body jerked. He wasn’t sure which one of them was losing control faster, but Brogan was close to shooting.
“Hard enough, love?”
Archie choked on his screams. “Oh Fuck…can’t.”
Archie released his warm cum into Brogan’s hand, shaking and sweating.
Brogan ignored Archie’s cum in his hand and continued to fuck him hard and fast. Then he came inside, moaning.
They allowed the water to rinse them as they held each other, both catching their breath.
Brogan made the first move to kiss Archie.
Their lips met, a gentle press before Brogan’s tongue explored the warmth within.
“I love being with you, Archie…I love you.”
“I love you, Brogan. I’ll be with you as long as you let me.”