The weirdest part is that Peter is tempted. Not just a little tempted, but really tempted. Sebastian makes it sound so easy. And Peter had expected to go to university after his service ended. Politics had gotten in the way of that.
But now the opportunity is here to just try it out, and he wouldn’t have to be on his own.
“It’s probably not a good idea,” he says reflexively.
“Oh, is that something you Republicans are known for? Good ideas?”
“They’re not all bad. Both sides have their strengths.”
Sebastian is staring at his mouth.
“We should go,” Peter says.
7
Peter wakes up to Sebastian’s hand sliding over his hip and cupping his hard cock. Sebastian squeezes the shaft, and as soon as Peter moans, his hand slides down to Peter’s balls. Peter huffs in annoyance, positive Sebastian stopped touching his cock because he enjoyed it. The sadist.
“I want to fuck you,” Sebastian says, his voice sleep rough. Thank god, Peter thinks, positive those are the best five words in the English language.
He shivers and goes to his stomach. “Knock yourself out,” he murmurs, smiling into the pillow. He tries to play it a little calm, like this isn’t a desperate necessity. Sebastian will make fun of him, might make him beg for it if he figures out how much Peter wants it.
The covers get thrown off him. “Hey, it’s cold!” Peter says.
Sebastian’s warm finger runs down his back as Peter breaks into goose bumps. “Then turn up the heat, cheapskate.”
Peter snorts and throws him a look over his shoulder. “Is that an order? You have temperature requirements now?” What does it say about Peter that he hopes the answer is yes?
Sebastian spanks Peter on the ass and Peter yelps, turning his head on the pillow so he can see Sebastian properly. Sebastian’s hair is a wreck. His eyes are a lovely blue, and he has crease marks on his cheek from sleeping on his side, cock pressed up against Peter’s ass all night, unwilling to let him go. He’s naked and hard, touching himself idly.
“Yeah, actually, I do. Go see what it’s at and turn it up.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Peter argues. “Just fuck me already.”
“No,” Sebastian says after a long moment. “Go tell me what the temperature is. Come on, Peter. Don’t you want to be good for me?”
Peter gets out of bed with a long-suffering sigh and checks the thermostat. “It’s fifty-seven.”
“Fuck. No wonder my nipples are about to break off. Turn it to sixty-eight. Let’s be civilized.”
“Sixty-eight? Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you know how expensive that is?” Peter demands. He turns it up and goes back to the bedroom.
“Did you put it to sixty-eight?”
“That’s too hot,” Peter says. He did actually, but he doesn’t want to let on just how easy he is. Not if he doesn’t have to.
“So what did you put the temperature to, Grandpa? Sixty-two?” Sebastian grabs the covers and pulls them back up like he’s freezing. He’s peering over the top. “I’m not fucking you if it’s sixty-two.”
“What a delicate constitution you have,” Peter murmurs, crawling back into bed. Sebastian’s gaze shifts, watching Peter’s cock and his everything as he prowls up the bed. “The way you’re looking at me makes me think that’s a hollow threat.”
“Yeah,” Sebastian says, chewing idly on his bottom lip as he ogles Peter. “God, look at your tits.”
“I thought they were moobs,” Peter says, annoyed. Still.
Sebastian grins. “Please tell me you put it to sixty-eight so I can just get on with it.”
Peter rolls his eyes, lying back down. “It’s sixty-eight, just like you asked for, Your Highness.”
“Highness? Nah. You want to call me Sir?” He gets out from under the covers, attention already fixed on Peter’s ass.
