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He does. Skates them back up and down again until I’m panting so hard I have to drop my head to his shoulder. He moves the touch to my abdomen, alternating between rubbing the pads of his fingers over my abs and scraping his nails along my sides.
It’s one playful tug on my nipple that has me crashing our bodies together: chest to chest, groin to groin, and there’s no mistaking the hard on pressing into my thigh.
I’ve never wanted to hump someone before, but as my hips start slowly rolling into his, I’m not sure I’m entirely in control. We’re wrapped in each other, so tangled it’s hard to tell where one of us ends and the other begins. I don’t even know what I’m heading towards because my dick is still soft, but it’s filling slowly with the friction.
Blair’s breath is hot on my neck as he holds me close, his own body rising to meet mine. It doesn’t feel sexual. I know two dicks rubbing up on each other should be, but that isn’t what this feels like. Not for me.
It’s a closeness I’ve never had with a partner when we get physical. There’s always this layer of separation between the ‘us’ that’s together and the ‘us’ fooling around. This doesn’t feel like fooling around. It feels like fitting together in the most intimate way.
I turn my lips to his skin, dragging my tongue through the sweat on his collarbone and feeling him shiver.
“Atlas.” His mouth brushes my ear, his body starting to tremble as his hips pick up speed.
It hits me at that moment that he’s going to come. He’s falling apart in my hold, the noises he’s trying to hide, but they leak into the space between us. My cock is somewhere between semi-hard and uninterested, so I don’t feel the same pleasure that’s making him cry my name under his breath, but it’s exactly those sounds that make me want to keep going.
I don’t care about an orgasm, but I care about giving Blair this high we’re chasing.
I pull back just enough that I can angle his face and slot our lips together. He pants into my mouth, only half heartedly kissing me back.
“Do you want to come?” I ask, and his lips drag over mine as he nods. “What can I do to get you there?”
He groans and pushes his ass into my hand again, but quickly resumes rocking into me. His body flexes like a bow, and I slip my hand under the top of his jeans, running a finger along his crack and gripping his bare cheek in my palm. The rougher I grip him, the more moans slip out until he has to take my tongue in a battle to keep the noises down. When I brush over his rim with the pad of one finger, he jolts in my grasp.
“Fuck.” Blair throws his head back, hips slamming forward one last time before he stills.
I’ve never seen a man come up close. Sure, I’ve caught dudes jerking off, but I’ve never been right there in the action when the climax hits.
Blair is fucking beautiful: the way his back arches, his neck strains and the muscles bulge; his fingers dig into me hard enough to bruise.
I’m fully hard after I feel his cock thicken where it’s pressing on mine followed by the pulse of cum that leaves a damp spot on his jeans. But I have no desire to get there myself.
I hold onto him as his body relaxes, as his breathing goes from labored to shallow, and his hands fall from around me.
“Oh my god,” he whispers, looking up at me with a disbelieving smile. “Guess I was a little pent up.”
“Was that okay?”
Blair blinks, frowns, and tilts his head, smiling slightly again. “I would have told you if it wasn’t.”
I must look like a mess: biting my lip raw and still holding him tight like the world’s going to come crashing down if I let go, because his smile drops entirely.
“Atlas.” Blair’s hands warm my cheek, and he guides my forehead to his. “Was that okay with you?”
I nod, but my head is swirling, and he smiles tightly. He drops a hand to my chest and gently pushes me back. My arms fall from around him, and he makes us put a foot of distance from each other.
“Atlas.”
He thinks I’m going to panic again. I’m not. This just… happens sometimes. Usually it’s after I orgasm and not someone else, but it’s like all of my nerves go into shock. Like they don’t know what to do with themselves.
I bite down on my tongue to see if the pain clears my head—which it mostly does—but before another word can pass between us, the front door of the trailer slams open and we both jump away from it.
“If you think I can’t hear that whole damn shamble of a porch shaking, you must think I’m an idiot. Take that bullshit behind a closed door.”
It definitely sounds like Mr. Novak has been drinking, which isn’t surprising, but my face still flames with embarrassment, while Blair just leans an arm on one of the sturdy porch boards and cocks his head.
“We were behind a door, Dad. Besides, we’re probably about to call it for today. Got all of the supports up. Tomorrow I’ll reinforce them and get the floor done. Stairs if there’s time, if not it’ll have to be this weekend.”
What he doesn’t say is that even then it’s just the bare minimum, and I saw him looking up more materials to build a ramp—even though he knows his dad will protest. The good news is we can add that in later and hopefully not piss the old man off by holding up the process.
