He slams into me, over and over. My horn seizes up, and I can tell my release is imminent.
“Sean, I’m close.” Suddenly, it hits me what a mess I’m about to make. “The tarp is great, but… the wall. The nightstand.”
“I don’t care.” He’s panting, his cock throbbing inside me, and I sense he’s teetering on the edge, too. “We’ll clean up after.”
I let go of every worry and give in to the pleasure. He’s thrusting inside me, hard and unrelenting, and before I even realize it, he pulls out. His dick, slick with lube, hovers above me, coating me in hot, long ropes of cum. Sure, it’s nothing like my orgasm, but for him, it’s a lot. The heat on my skin pushes me over the edge, and I reach down, ready to take care of myself—but Sean’s faster. Still coming himself, both his hands wrap around me, stroking me through the euphoria until I explode, unleashing a torrential flood.
“Holy… fuck.” Sean’s voice is low, awed, and trembling—but he doesn’t let go. “Yes. So fucking much.”
There’s cum everywhere. I’m coated first, slick and sticky, and then I hear it hitting the wall behind the bed—thwap. The nightstand gets its share. The floor, too, with a satisfyingsplat. I can’t help but let out a laugh through my moans. “Seriously, this is ludicrous,” I gasp and do my best to open my eyes as my cock unleashes a cum storm on his tiny studio. “We’re going to need a mop… or a small excavation crew.”
“Totally worth it.” Sean chuckles, eyes dark andmischievous, like he’s already plotting the cleanup—or maybe just enjoying the chaos we’ve made together.
When I finally finish, it’s quiet except for our breathing. The tarp crumples beneath us, silly and perfect. Sean looks half-asleep already, sprawled across my chest like an exhausted cat.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, kissing the top of his head.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbles. “But practical.”
“Speaking of.” I kiss his cum-covered head with my cum-coated lips. “We need to clean up.”
We grab towels and start wiping down the wall, nightstand, and floor, carefully rolling up the tarp Sean brought. Little drips still manage to escape, but we work together, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Once it’s curled up, we drag it into the shower to rinse it off. The tarp crackles and flops under the spray as Sean turns the water on. Steam fills the tiny bathroom as we step in, pressing together under the warm stream. Hands reach for each other, playful splashes turn into teasing kisses, and every once in a while one of us smacks the tarp just to make it wriggle. By the time we’re done, the tarp and our bodies are clean, and we’re still dripping and laughing, tangled up against each other like we’ve never been happier.
Back in the tarpless bed, we snuggle under the covers. I wrap my arms around Sean’s warm body, the smell of soap clinging to both of us. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the part that still runs on logic and checklists, I’m thinking: This is what compatibility looks like.
I reach over, turn off the lamp, and let the soft sounds of the city fade around us.
For once, I’m not thinking about tomorrow. Not about work or schedules or system updates. Just Sean.
Warm. Breathing. All mine.
And when he finally drifts off, drooling a little against my chest, I smile into his damp hair and think, yeah—maybe love is the ultimate patch upgrade.
19
DEBUGGING WITH SYRUP
SEAN
The morning sun spills through the shades, turning my tiny kitchen golden. Greg hums to himself, absorbed in the quiet ritual—pouring batter and coaxing perfection out of the iron like it’s a piece of delicate machinery. The light hits his beautiful skin, making him look half myth, half miracle, standing there as if he’s always belonged. I don’t even own a waffle iron, and yet he’s conjuring perfectly crisp, golden magic like a domestic god.
I lean against the counter, watching him, and feel a deep, steady calm I haven’t felt in… forever. It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel this safe, this content. But seeing him like this, so utterly himself and unselfconscious, it hits me like a pile of bricks: Greg is my mate.
“Did you actually bring a waffle iron over?”
He turns around, smiling, all teeth and tusks. “I did.”
I slip my arms around his waist from behind, resting my head on his back. “I love you.”
Greg freezes for a moment, then spins, eyes wide and sparkling. “You… love me?” he asks, voice a mix of disbelief and delight. “I mean, I know we said it last night during…”
“Yeah, I meant it then, and I mean it now. Even without being inside you.” I try not to grin. “This is me. Loving you. With breakfast.”
He laughs, brushing a stray bit of flour off his naked shoulder. “Well, in that case, I love you too.”
“Please feel free to cook naked for me anytime.” I take his hand. “Breakfast with a view.”
