His.
Harlow took hold of Simon's hips, putting more pressure between them. The resulting sensation brought them both to moan, and Harlow couldn’t help but arch his back and push against Simon in return. Desire blinded him, narrowing his world into pinpoint focus.
Himself. The Kid. The pleasure they shared.
“Want you,” Harlow uttered. It was a fixation now, hooking itself deeper into him with every roll of Simon's hips. “Fuck, Kid…”
His hands roamed, following Simon’s slender thighs to the indulgent globes of his ass. Breathless, Harlow squeezed, then pressed Simon down against him all over again. What would it feel like to take him? To let responsibility fall by the wayside and enjoy without guilt? It had only been two days since they’d met in person, and despite three years of professional contact, they were still largely strangers. Simon was both familiar and a mystery—someone safe, but someone new and exciting that Harlow was eager to explore. But it wasn't circumstance or convenience that made Harlow lift his hips and thrust against Simon's clothed body.
It was Simon.
Simon, who was sweet and loyal, and who'd risk his life for the ones he loved. Simon, whose laugh made Harlow grin, and whose perpetual frump was beyond adorable. Simon, who was too young for him, but who felt right. Simon, who wanted this, too.
Harlow wanted to give him everything.Wouldgive him everything.
Whatever Simon wanted would be his.
“Fuck me,” Simon whispered. The words were jarring coming from a creature so innocent. “Want you inside me. Wanna feel your cock ruin my hole. Wanna train my body to take you.”
Ohfuck.
Harlow’s cock pulsed. Pleasure invigorated him, and at the same time, loosened his inhibitions. Where had Simon picked up such a dirty mouth?
It made Harlow want to hear more.
“How can we get you ready for me, baby?” Harlow’s hands had taken possession of Simon’s ass, guiding him through one bounce after another. “Wanna give you everything you want. Wanna make you happy…”
“Then come.” Simon’s hand traced down Harlow’s arm until Harlow freed his hand from Simon’s ass. Their fingers locked together, and Simon rose from the couch, tugging Harlow with him.
Simon didn’t have to say it twice. No matter his meaning, Harlow intended to.
Again, and again, and again.
