When Julien opens his eyes, he immediately notices Greg’s apprehension. Between his legs, the cock ring has only preserved part of Greg’s erection. “I don’t think I’m up for that right this moment.”
“That’s okay,” Julien says, trying to convey reassurance and need in equal measure. “Grab the medium-sized purple plug and the lube for me, will you?”
Julien watches Greg’s apprehension splinter off. He returns to the bed with the toy and ready-to-learn eagerness. Greg slicks Julien’s hole with more than spit and slowly, ever so slowly, inserts the plug until it pops into place and Julien yells with vigor, “Fuck!”
With the plug repeatedly caressing the spot Greg already stimulated with his finger, Julien moves to his knees, grabs the oil, and coats his right hand before grabbing Greg by the cock and tugging. He does so with intention. He does so with care. He does so with absolutely no expectations.
He wants Greg to know that, even if he won’t speak it. He wants Greg to understand, just through his touch, that it doesn’t matter if he’s hard or if he comes. All Julien cares about in this moment is making Greg feel good and confident. Nothing else matters.
As Julien strokes Greg, Greg takes it upon himself to reach around, brush the pads of his fingers across Julien’s ass cheeks, around the hole, and then he fiddles with the base of the plug. Each micromovement of Greg’s fingers serves to heighten the experience for Julien until he feels like he’s standing atop the world’s tallest mountain, light-headed and ready to fly.
“That feels nice, Julien.” Greg’s voice is barely more than a whisper.
Julien likes how Greg’s body responds to him. The way his strokes seem to dictate Greg’s breathing pattern. He feels Greg’s cock getting harder under his touch. The more he toys with the underside of Greg’s circumcised head, the more little jumps it makes.
Julien isn’t worried about how long this will take or if his arm will cramp. He’s enjoying the intense, focused, madly sexy squished looks on Greg’s handsome face too much to consider anything but this very moment.
Greg lets out agrr. “I want to fuck you.”
“I have condoms laid out over there.” Julien tries hard to temper his voice; he doesn’t want to come across too desperate for it. Even if he is and it’s probably already obvious.
Greg exhales hard, pulls his cock away from Julien’s grip. As he goes to get the condom box, Julien notices him stop as his eyes land on a transparent eight-incher with buttons on the bottom. “What does this do?”
“Vibrate.”
Greg smiles to himself. “I don’t think this is up for it right now.” He waggles his dick. “Would this do?”
“It would do. It would do very nicely.” The phantom stretch of it already has Julien in a state of utter bliss.
Julien lies back once more, pulls up his legs, maximum exposure achieved. Absence floods his body when the plug is removed, but ecstasy takes its place when Greg works him over with the dildo, transitioning between speeds and depths. Julien couldn’t be more far gone if he tried. “I think I’m gonna...” He doesn’t finish his sentence before he’s spilling across his torso.
It takes Julien several moments before he can find clarity again. Once he regains his sight, Greg sits there, smiling faintly, holding the cock ring. “Can I help you now?” Julien asks.
Greg shakes his head, resolute and winded. “I think I want to stop there if that’s okay.”
“Of course. As long as you’re not just saying that because you think I’m tapped out now.” Julien doesn’t want to be one of those guys who comes and then rolls over and falls asleep. He may be grumpy and standoffish sometimes, but he doesn’t ever want to be selfish.
“I’m not,” Greg says quickly. “I’m just tired and satisfied. That was intense. I enjoyed myself. A lot, actually.” He goes quiet for several seconds, then adds, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me decant you.”
Julien cracks up at this callback to their conversation last week. Julien does sort of feel like a merlot spilled all over his sheets, which reminds him: he needs to clean up. “My pleasure. Now, I need to shower. Don’t go anywhere, though. It’ll only be ten minutes or so.”
Then Julien surprises himself by kissing Greg on the cheek. Not the lips. Even his unconscious impulses know that would be too far for two friends who are just helping each other out with a common need.
Julien brushes his teeth, takes a quick but thorough shower—scrubbing himself free of come and lube and oil—and then slips back into his robe. When he returns to the bedroom, he’s surprised to see that Greg has redressed and also stripped the bed; he is holding the soiled sheets in a ball while checking his phone.
“If you can point me toward the washing machine, I can get these started for you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Julien says, though he appreciates the kindness. He does have a hard time transporting his sex sheets. He usually does that before he showers, but he was so rocked by the intensity of his orgasm that his mind got his practiced order jumbled.
“I want to.” Greg smiles winsomely.
Julien refills their water glasses as Greg starts the laundry. And instead of saying good-night right then and there, Greg showers again before coming to sit with Julien in the living room where they discuss at length next steps for making happy hour...well,happy. For them and the patrons.
The slosh of the washing machine muffled by the slatted closet doors underscores the start of something very new for them.
