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He shifted again and felt a rumble under his hands, which were braced against Caleb’s chest, and he looked up into his eyes and saw his pupils dilated and his lips gently parted. He was moaning.
Bodhi dipped his head in without really thinking, taking Caleb’s warm lips against his own. They moved to a rhythm Bodhi didn’t quite understand yet, but Caleb was slow and easy to follow. He grunted when Caleb’s fingers twisted into his hair and tugged lightly. It sent a shower of sparks down his spine and made his cock twitch.
He was probably going to come in his pants if they did this much longer, but he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t think he could.
His breath came out ragged and panting as Caleb’s other hand curled around his backside. The grip tightened, Caleb’s arm tugging, urging him to rock faster—harder. Bodhi lost himself to sensation, the feeling of his erection trapped behind his sweats the most frustrating thing in the world—and yet erotic to the point he was losing control.
For a brief, wild moment, everything in the world narrowed down to the place where Bodhi’s dick was rubbing up against Caleb’s—both of them hard, both of them throbbing. And with a soft cry, it was over. He let go with a shudder, spilling ropes against the fabric separating them. He felt the warmth of it, and then the instant, terrible feeling as it began to cool.
He shuddered and grimaced, pulling back, and it was a fuckingactual wonderthat Caleb immediately understood what was wrong. He tipped Bodhi back against the couch cushions and his fingers twisted into the waistband of the sweats.
With a single tug, they were off, and Bodhi’s damp dick lay exposed, half-hard and nestled in his thick pubic hair. Caleb tossed the pants off to the side without looking away from Bodhi, his gaze trained on his dick. One hand moved up Bodhi’s thigh—the pressure firm but tentative, like he wasn’t sure he had permission.
The thought made Bodhi want to laugh considering Caleb had just made him ruin his damn sweats, and he curled fingers around Caleb’s wrist and urged him up until Caleb’s warm palm was touching him.
It felt so good. No, it felt better than good. It evoked an emotion in him Bodhi couldn’t name because it was brand new. It tore a moan from his chest and a feeble twitch from his spent dick which would get hard again. And probably soon.
He could feel the blood rushing south already.
Caleb’s gaze trailed up his chest, then met Bodhi’s gaze, and he just smiled softly when Bodhi lost his ability to keep eye contact and settled somewhere around the front of Caleb’s throat.
“That was beautiful,” Caleb signed after a beat.
Bodhi flushed. “Pathetic,” he corrected.
Caleb shook his head, then shifted his body and was suddenly leaning all the way over Bodhi, pinning him to the sofa with his weight. He kissed Bodhi again, soft and slow—just a little touch of tongues before he pulled away and nuzzled against his jaw. After a long beat, he flopped to the side and curled his body around Bodhi’s side.
“Was that enough for you?”
Bodhi frowned until his fucked-out brain understood what Caleb was asking, then he laughed and shook his head. “No. It didn’t count.”
Caleb’s eyes went wide. “You came!”
Bodhi laughed and covered his face with one hand while the other signed, “I know, but you didn’t touch me.”
Caleb tapped him until Bodhi was looking at him again. “I want to touch you. How do you want me?”
“In bed,” Bodhi told him.
Caleb’s grin widened. “Yes. I’m too old for any more couch sex. But how do you want me?”
He repeated the question in the exact same way, and Bodhi struggled for a half a second to understand. His mouth formed anO. How did he want him? In every single way he’d ever fantasized about having a man. But there weren’t enough hours in one night for that.
“I want you to put your mouth on me.”
Caleb’s cheeks erupted into an immediate flush, and he looked down at Bodhi’s dick which was already starting to plump. “You want me to suck you?”
Bodhi knew dirty signs. He’d seen enough of them with Ravi and his friends to have a better lexicon than the average student when it came to that. But he’d spent a good portion of his life not sure if he’d ever see any of them directed at him—asking him what he wanted. Encouraging him to spell it all out on his nervous hands.
Caleb traced a touch over his jaw, and his eyes went soft with worry. “Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s hard to believe I’m here,” Bodhi confessed. The emotions were making his chest tight, and he realized that maybe this was a bit too much. Maybe it was too fast. He turned his body to face Caleb. “Can I touch you instead?”
It was easier that way. Better. Taking the focus off him allowed him to breathe a little deeper.
Caleb traced more shapes along Bodhi’s neck as he nodded. “Yes.”
The permission felt almost as good as rocking his erection against Caleb’s. He was wearing loose jeans, so Bodhi was able to pop the button and stick his hand down the front, past the elastic of Caleb’s boxers.
