“Obiora.” Ejiro tried to ease his strokes, his hips lifting and his eyes rolling back at the torture of it. He wanted to come. He needed to come. His prick ached with it, throbbing and leaking into his palm. But he wanted to hear more.
“I thought about fucking you on the balcony,” Obiora continued coarsely. “Just—bending you over right there, your pants around your hips, your hands clutching at the railing, your moans so fucking loud while I fucked you so hard you couldn’t see straight.”
“Uhn.” Ejiro arched, his balls cramping up. He tried to stop, to pull his hand away, but he was so fucking close, his dick so stiff, so sensitive it hurt.
“Obiora,” he moaned, his hand flying across his length. “Oh God. I’m gonna come.”
“Oh fuck.” Obiora’s voice was a sob. “Me too, baby. Oh fuck. Christ. God!”
They came at the same time, both of them going silent and still, before exhaling in a rush, Ejiro collapsing onto his mattress. He didn’t stop stroking himself, milking every drop until he was whimpering and oversensitive and had to yank his hand away.
“Jesus,” Obiora whispered, panting, his voice shaky. “Holy shit. Fucking hell.”
“Fuck.” Ejiro grinned, stretching lazily like the cat who’d gotten the cream. They were silent for a moment while they both caught their breaths.
“Best sex I’ve ever had,” Ejiro said when he was breathing semi-normally, “and it wasn’t even sex!”
Obiora laughed. “It’s sex if we say it’s sex.”
“Okay.” Ejiro giggled. He fucking giggled.
There was a grin in Obiora’s voice when he said, “I love you.”
“I—” The words nearly slipped past Ejiro’s lips; he was so relaxed, his guard completely down, that he’d forgotten he hadn’t yet said them out loud.
And he wanted to say them, desperately. But he didn’t want to say it for the first time over the phone, and after they’d just had sex.
“I’ll let you go to sleep, yeah?” Obiora’s voice was soft.
Ejiro loved him so fucking fiercely. “Okay.”
“Sleep well, baby.”
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Thought I was your alarm?” Obiora teased, referring to how his phone calls in the mornings always seemed to be the thing to wake Ejiro up.
“Shut up,” Ejiro said, but he was smiling. “So I like waking up to your voice first thing in the morning; sue me.”
“Aw, baby. You’re so fucking cute.”
Ejiro blushed. “I’ll wake you up this time; you’ll see.”
“Sure thing, grandpa.”
Ejiro laughed and clutched his chest, trying and failing to stop the warmth spreading underneath his ribs, like his heart was growing. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight.”
The bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to come only after an intensely satisfying orgasm hit Ejiro from all corners after the call ended and Ejiro had cleaned himself up and gotten back into bed. When he said this had been the best sex he’d ever had, he meant it.
He still wasn’t ready to progress further physically, but he knew there was no rush. Plus, he was still kind of trying to get used to the brand-new desire of wanting someone—specifically wanting Obiora—over him—inside him. He’d never even spared … back there … with a single thought before, but after Obiora talked about—about fucking him, it was suddenly all he could think about.
How would it feel? He knew his prostate was up there somewhere, and was supposedly sensitive, but still, wouldn’t it feel weird? Invasive?
A picture flashed through his mind, of Obiora leaning on his elbows over him, his face taut with pleasure and concentration as he smoothly pumped his hips.
“Oh.” Ejiro shivered and pressed his thighs together.
