“I can’t believe you did that,” I say.
He pulls back, and panic floods me. My whole body goes cold.
Oh, God. This was a joke. Of course, this was a joke. Axel still hasn’t completely forgiven me for ghosting him. Of course he would prank me. That’s what bros do, right? Tease each other?
They don’t actually invite them into their bed, slide down their pajama bottoms and boxer briefs and start touching their cock. That’s not a thing. I’ve been in locker rooms for a decade. That is definitely not a thing.
My face flames. I pull my pajama pants back up.
This was a joke.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “You got me. For a moment, I actually thought?—”
“Did you say something?” Axel is suddenly beside me again.
He reaches for my cock, then frowns, maybe wondering why he’s touching flannel and not skin. “You cold, Enz?”
My chest is too tight. I can’t find the right words.
“Hey. You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“You thought I’d left?”
“I—”
“Well, now you have to take your pajama bottoms off completely,” Axel says matter-of-factly. “I just rubbed lube all over them. Good thing they’re not silk.”
And with that he pulls my pajama pants back down, then pulls my boxer briefs down, then flings both off the bed. “You’re going to have to sleep naked.”
“Axel! You can’t do that!”
“Orgasms release oxytocin and prolactin,” he says, like he’s reciting from a health textbook. “Knocks you right out. Works every time.” His hand wraps around me again—warm, slick—and yeah, I don’t protest anymore. His hand is covered with lube. Guess he wasn’t pranking me, just going to his bedside cabinet.
My cock comes back to life immediately.
“Just relax,” Axel says soothingly. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ve got me.”
Axel strokes me in steady movements. It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this. He holds it differently than I do. His stroke is the perfect mixture of gentle and strong.
“Do you often stroke men’s cocks?” I ask.
“Are you saying that I’m doing it wrong?”
“No,” I say, “you’re not doing it wrong.”
“Good. Would be embarrassing to know that I’ve been doing it wrong on myself all these years.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“I might be doing it wrong if you’re still speaking though.” He does more interesting things, and I can’t think anymore. I can’t remember why this is a bad idea, and surely it can’t be if it feels so good.
He shifts nearer, close enough that his hair grazes my skin. His breath is warm against my shoulder.
His hand moves over me, and I inhale his scent and the sound of his soft breathing as he concentrates.
“That’s it,” Axel murmurs. “Just let go.”
