Seth was in the hallway outside the bathroom. Wet hair. Towel around his hips. Water droplets tracking down his chest, his stomach, disappearing into the terry cloth. He'd been eating regularly for weeks now and his body was responding, still lean, still angular, but alive with it now. Color in his skin. Strength in the line of his shoulders.
He looked up. Saw Zain. Went still.
Neither of them spoke.
Zain was across the hallway in three steps. His hands found Seth's hips, bare skin, still warm from the shower, and pushed him back against the wall. Seth's breath punched out of him. The towel slipped. Neither of them noticed.
"This is a mistake," Zain said, already leaning in.
"Worst mistake of your life," Seth agreed, already pulling him closer.
"I'm serious."
"So am I. Shut up and kiss me."
He kissed him. Pressed him into the wall with his full weight, one hand in Seth's wet hair, the other sliding up the bare skin of his back. Seth's hands were everywhere, Zain's shoulders, his chest, the waistband of his pants, urgent and graceless and desperate.
"Bedroom," Seth gasped. "Now."
"Mine's closer."
"Don't care."
They made it to Zain's room. Barely. The door shut and Zain had Seth against it, lifting him. Seth's legs wrapped aroundhis waist, the towel gone, nothing between them but Zain's sweatpants and the five days of wanting that had been building behind a dam that was now in pieces.
Zain carried him to the bed. Set him down. Stood over him and looked.
Seth was laid out on his sheets, naked and flushed and hard and watching Zain with those green eyes that dared him to look away.
Zain didn't look away.
"Hands above your head," he said.
Seth's breath caught. He raised his arms. Crossed his wrists against the pillow.
"Don't move them."
Seth's palms flattened against the pillow.
"Good." Zain knelt on the bed. Leaned over him. Kissed the side of his neck, soft, almost tender, and then bit down, just hard enough to leave a mark. Seth's hips bucked. "Stay still."
He took his time.
Ran his hands down Seth's body, over his chest, his ribs, the hollows of his hips. Every touch slow and deliberate, mapping skin, learning the places that made Seth shiver and the places that made him gasp. He kissed his way down Seth's sternum, his stomach, the sharp line of his hip bone. Seth was trembling, his hands gripping the pillow above his head, knuckles white with the effort of not reaching down.
"Zain. Please…"
"Please what?"
"Pleaseanything,just, don't stop."
Zain wrapped his hand around Seth's cock and stroked. Slow. Torturously slow. Seth keened, his hips trying to buck, but Zain's free hand pressed flat against his stomach, holding him against the mattress.
"What did I say about moving?"
"I can't. I can't. "
"You can." His thumb swept over the head, spreading slick. "Youwill."
