Page 18 of Checking Out the Librarian

“Do you want to mess up my clothing?”

“Nooo.” Connor whispered, watched, and yearned.

“I think you’re lying, aren’t you, Connor?”

He nodded.

“Stay there.” He’d moved out of the narrow strip of light coming from the bathroom. Having a dark and indistinct blur tell him exactly what to do, and what not to do, made Connor feel light-headed.

Then Jonathan adjusted the bathroom door to angle the golden light toward Connor, illuminating him before he stepped closer and wrapped his fingers lightly around Connor’s cock, with such perfect pressure that Connor shuddered against the door.

“I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I?”

“Yes.” The word was barely a sound, or maybe not a sound, only a thought. Fuck, his breathing was louder than his answer.

“Would that get on my clothes?”

Jonathan traced slow half-circles across the base of his cock, and one of his rings caught in the hair, pulling Connor’s gaze away from Jonathan’s face and down to his own body. The only movement was Jonathan’s thumb, tracking left and right and back again, and again, while Connor watched the dark gleam of polish swipe slowly through his hair.

“I know you would be messy.”

“Nooooo, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t.” He would promise to be very careful, very good, he was one breath from babbling, agreeing to anything, if only Jonathan would tighten his fingers. Move his wrist. Go faster.

“Maybe I should wrap this and make you come into a condom right here.” Even though he was quiet, Jonathan’s voice wasn’t soft. It made Connor think he could be more than a little bit strict, and fuck, that also made him shudder.

Jonathan putting a condom on him. Jonathan standing there stroking him. Jonathan watching him. Jonathan telling him when to come.

Finally, he got what he’d been wanting for so long he couldn’t remember not wanting it, and Jonathan rotated his hand and slid his fingers underneath Connor’s cock, lifting him and then sliding closer to cradle his balls. Connor felt his shaft rub across the inside of Jonathan’s wrist, the catch and bump of his bracelet on Connor’s sensitive skin somehow as erotic as a full grip.

The sliver of light illuminated their point of connection like artistic porn, creating an otherworldly space inhabited only by his need, his cock, and Jonathan’s hand and wrist. He thrust, trying to push into Jonathan’s grip or nudge farther along Jonathan’s forearm, anything to deepen this feeling. Anything to make Jonathan speak again.

But Jonathan released him and stepped away.

Connor took one step to follow.

Jonathan held up his hand, palm out. “Did I say you could move?”

He thudded back into the door.

“Good boy.”

Oh. That was…

He was going to be a good boy. He was going to be the best boy he knew how to be. So he said nothing, and watched Jonathan walk to the desk at the other side of the shadowed room with no idea why, and that was also fucking exciting.

He wanted to plead with Jonathan to take off his own clothes or let him take them off but that was a lot of words to use right now. A lot.

Then Jonathan dragged the chair toward the door, and that was even more fucking exciting, at least according to Connor’s aching cock. Jonathan could fuck him while he leaned on the chair. Or he could sit in the chair and Jonathan could straddle him. Or Jonathan could stand on the chair and Connor could suck him, although that might be dangerously unstable. He could⁠—

“Look at me, Connor.”

That was easy, because Jonathan was unfastening his buttons, a thing he could watch for a long time. They were black and glinted in the dimness while Jonathan slowly revealed the skin that had teased Connor through the mesh. He slipped out of the sleeves with a grace unlike any that Connor had ever witnessed, folded the shirt neatly down the middle, and laid it carefully on the chair, all while Connor waited and watched.

His brain fuzzed at the sight of Jonathan’s tattoo, something large and botanical twining around his upper arm, but then Jonathan turned sideways, putting his arm on the far side of his body. He didn’t mind, because Jonathan immediately ran a hand down the center of his bare chest. So smooth.

Then Jonathan let his shoulders drop backward past all possibility, until his body created a curve that Connor wanted to follow in both directions. If he allowed, then Connor could hold him in the small of his back and let him bend away just like this, presenting his stomach and the ladder of his ribs so that Connor could lick and suck on each indent and rub his weeping cock all over him.

He straightened too soon, but then he lifted his arms above his head and threaded his fingers together, like a diver preparing. He wasn’t dancing for Connor, more like stretching, but his body was more beautiful than Connor had imagined, even more than his profile photo had promised. His arms were so fluid that Connor yearned to take him dancing. He’d shaved his armpits and Connor wanted to stand behind him and raise those elegant arms to twine around his head while he licked from his elbow to his shoulder and nuzzled him everywhere.