He brought Seth to the edge three times. Each time, he backed off just before Seth could fall, reading his body with the same precision he used on an op, the quickening breath, the tightening muscles, the way his voice broke on Zain's name. Each time he pulled back, Seth cursed and begged and trembled, and the sounds he made went straight through Zain like electricity.
"Fuck,Zain, please, I need…"
"Tell me what you need."
"I need to come. I need you toletme.Please!"
"Not yet."
"Why? "
"Because I'm not done with you."
Zain turned him over. Seth went willingly, boneless with need, past fighting, past defiance, stripped down to pure want. Zain pressed his chest to Seth's back, skin to skin, and reached around to stroke him again while grinding against him from behind.
"You feel this?" Zain murmured in his ear. "This is what you do to me. Every day. Every time I look at you."
"Then stop looking and start. " Seth choked on the words as Zain's grip tightened. "Please. Zain. I'll do anything."
"You don't have to do anything. Just let go."
He stroked him hard and fast and relentless, and Seth came with a sob, his whole body seizing, Zain's name torn from him in a voice that was wrecked and grateful and something else entirely, what sounded, in the quiet aftermath, a lot like trust.
Zain held him through it. Stroked him down. Pressed his face into Seth's hair and breathed him in, soap and sweat and the clean, sharp scent of surrender.
After, Seth turned in his arms. His eyes were blown wide, glossy, unfocused. He blinked at Zain like he was trying to remember how to form words.
"Your turn," Seth said, reaching for him.
"You don't have to. "
"I want to." Seth's hand slid into Zain's sweatpants. Found him hard and leaking and aching. Zain's eyes closed. "Let me."
He did.
Seth's hand was clumsy and eager and perfect. He watched Zain's face the entire time, studied the way his jaw clenched, the way his breath stuttered, the way his control finally,finallycracked. Zain came with Seth's name on his lips and Seth's eyes on his face and the feeling of falling from a height he hadn't known he'd climbed.
After, they lay tangled together. Sticky. Breathing hard. Seth's head on Zain's chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.
"Still a mistake?" Seth asked.
Zain's arm tightened around him. "The worst one I've ever made."
"Good."
"Why good?"
"Because your worst mistakes are the only honest thing about you."
Zain huffed what might have been a laugh. Pressed a kiss to Seth's forehead. Felt Seth relax against him in increments, the tension draining out of his body like water from a cracked vessel.
"Still think this is a mistake?" Seth asked.
"The worst one I've ever made."
"Good."
"Why good?"
