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“Tell me.”.
Chris chuckled. “I dunno, it’s pretty boring.”
“Tell me anyway. I’d love to know more about you.”
Chris exhaled and took a sip of his champagne before replying. “Well, I was brought up by my mom. Dad died when I was little. I was a really skinny, sick little kid.”
“No way!”
“Yes, way!” Chris grinned. “I got pneumonia a couple of times, picked up every virus going, joint problems…”
“Shit, Chris!” Jamie laughed. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I joined the army!” he replied cheerfully. “I started getting a bit better by the time I got to college, I grew a little taller, hit the gym a bit. Then my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, and she had to stop working and I had to quit college. I ended up working three jobs just to keep us in a home and it was getting increasingly hard to pay her medical bills. So, I joined the army.”
“They should not have taken you with those health problems,” mused Jamie, still stroking Chris’s hair. “How did you bypass that?”
“One of the doctors took pity on me, I guess. Anyway, by that time I had grown out of the asthma and working out had helped with the joint problems. I was okay. I did okay.”
“You did better than okay, Soldier!” Jamie chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris’s head. “How is your mom doing now?”
Chris paused for a moment. “She died, six weeks after I rotated back to the States.”
Jamie bit his lip. “Shit. I’m sorry. That’s really sad.”
“It’s okay,” Chris replied, shifting around on the sofa and setting his now empty glass on the table before kneeling between Jamie’s thighs and kissing him. “It was two years ago. I’m a big boy now, I can handle it.”
Jamie smiled and kissed Chris again. His Chris. Jamie’s Chris. Chris that used to be skinny and sick but was now strong enough to pin down Jamie with almost no effort. Not that Jamie had ever made him exert any effort thus far, and probably never would.
“Like you can handle me?” he murmured against Chris’s lips.
“Oh, I can handle you.” Chris grinned, drawing back slightly.
“Can you?”
“Yeah.”
Jamie raised his champagne glass, taking the tiniest sip, barely enough to wet his lips, which he then licked deliberately, watching Chris’s eyes follow the movements of his tongue.
“Prove it.”
* * * *
Chris was already half hard as Jamie slipped from the couch, champagne glass still held loosely in one hand as he stood and pulled up Chris with the other. They left Boomer on the deck, playing with the discarded bottle cork, and Jamie led Chris inside, both shedding their coats as they went down the mahogany stairs and into the small bedroom in the belly of the yacht. Jamie pushed him against the door and Chris’s weight caused it to swing closed.
Jamie’s eyes were wickedly playful as he pressed his free hand against Chris’s hip before unbuckling his belt and popping open the buttons on Chris’s pants with one hand. Chris gasped as Jamie’s hand, cold from being outside, ran over the front of his underwear and pulled down the waistband . Chris assisted in working them over his hips and pushed until they rested on the tops of his thighs.
Jamie’s eyes never left Chris’s face, a smile playing at his mouth. Chris watched as Jamie tipped back the glass one last time and drained the contents before dropping to his knees and letting the glass fall to the floor. As his lips ghosted over the head of his now-erect cock, Chris realized that Jamie hadn’t swallowed his drink.
The light bubbles of the pale gold liquid surrounded his flesh, cool against the heat of Jamie’s tongue dragging along the underside of the shaft, lips keeping a tight seal. Chris groaned at the differing sensations concentrated in the same area, at the intense wetness, the bubbles that tickled, the tongue that swirled and lapped, the air that hit his skin as Jamie’s mouth moved up to the lip, sharp and cold. He buried the fingers of a hand in Jamie’s hair and tugged gently.
Jamie was on his knees, his hands anchored on the back of Chris’s thighs, and his blue eyes looked up at him through thick dark eyelashes, gauging his reactions. Chris was dizzy with the knowledge that Jamie was giving him deliciously slow blow job with the most expensive drink that Chris had ever had before.
Jamie’s mouth moved again, inching all the way down the shaft, right to the base, his nose touching the skin on Chris’s belly, his chin nudging the two globes that hung heavy between Chris’s thighs. The head of his cock hit the back of Jamie’s throat, and Chris saw stars, his head hitting the wooden door with so much force that he thought it might have cracked.
Jamie made a noise halfway between a choke and the most appreciative moan Chris had ever heard before sliding his mouth off, a few droplets of pale champagne spilling from his lips and rolling down the side and onto his throat. He looked at Chris very deliberately before swallowing the liquid and running the back of his hand over his mouth, a wicked smile playing about his lips as he got to his feet again.
Chris grabbed Jamie’s sweater, dragging him in and tangling his fingers in the soft dark hair of his head. Jamie’s mouth was open and receptive, allowing Chris easy access to lick his way inside and taste himself on Jamie’s tongue, mingled with the sweet flavor of champagne. Jamie’s lips suddenly clamped down on Chris’s tongue, and so hard that Chris’s knees almost buckled with the flash of heat that hit his belly.
