"What cat?"
I swallowed him down again, all the way this time, my nose pressed against his stomach and my throat working around him. He made a choked sound and his grip tightened in my hair, finally pulling the way I wanted. I moaned around him, and the vibration made his whole body shudder.
I pulled back slow, dragging my tongue along the underside, then sank down again. I found a rhythm that was just fast enough to keep him on edge, just slow enough to drive him crazy. His breathing had gone ragged, punctuated by small desperate sounds every time I took him deep.
"I'm gonna—" His hand tugged at my hair, trying to pull me off. "Joel, I'm close, you have to—"
I didn't pull off. I sucked harder, worked the base with my hand, and looked up at him through my lashes. His face was flushed, his mouth open, his eyes barely focused.
"Is that your schedule on your fridge?"
I pulled back, my hand still wrapped around him, spit and pre-cum slicking my fingers. "Are you serious right now?"
"It looks really detailed." He was breathless, trembling, his cock twitching in my grip. "Is it color-coded?"
The laugh caught in my throat before I could stop it. I turned it into a cough and glared up at him.
He grinned down at me, unrepentant. His fingers brushed through my hair, gentle in a way that didn't match the situation, gentle in a way that made something twist in my chest.
I took him back into my mouth without warning, all the way down, and his head cracked against the door. His hands scrambled for my hair, my shoulders, anything to hold on to, and when I swallowed around him, his hips jerked forward, pushing deeper into my throat. I let him.
I pulled off slowly, a string of spit connecting my lips to his cock, and looked up at him. "Any more questions?"
His chest was heaving. His mouth had gone slack, his eyes dark and unfocused.
"What’s your favorite color?"
Red.I closed my eyes and bit my lip to keep from blurting it out. Red was the color of blood. Of his jersey. Of the freckles onhis shoulders, of his stupid hair. But if I told him that, I’d never survive what followed.
I stood up, caught his mouth with mine, let him taste himself on my tongue. He groaned into the kiss and his hands went to my waist, fumbling with my pants, but I grabbed his wrists and walked him backward toward the bedroom. When Wonton appeared at our feet, Red actually tried to stop and greet him.
"Hey, buddy—"
I bit his earlobe. "If you pet my cat right now, I swear to God."
Red laughed and let me shove him through the bedroom door.
He was still smiling when I pushed him onto the bed, still smiling when I stripped off my own clothes and climbed over him, still smiling when I pinned his wrists above his head and rolled my hips down against his.
The friction made us both groan. His cock was still wet from my mouth, sliding hot and slick against mine, and I did it again just to watch his smile falter into something needier.
Red wasn't cooperating.
He kept watching me, studying my face like I was something he was trying to understand. When I let go of his wrists to reach for the lube in the nightstand, he didn't grab me or pull me closer. He ran his hands down my arms, slow and curious, tracing the muscle like he was memorizing the shape of me.
"You're so fucking hot," he said, sounding almost awed. “I can’t believe…”
I got the lube open and slicked my fingers. "Shut up and let me fuck you."
"What’s the rush?" He was still watching me, still touching me like I was something worth being careful with. "Maybe I wanted to talk first."
"I don't want to talk." I reached between his legs and circled his hole, not pressing in yet, just teasing. His breath caught. "I want this."
"Then take it."
I pressed one finger inside him and his body opened for me, hot and tight around the first knuckle. I worked it deeper, slowly, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. There was none. Just his lips parting, his eyes going half-lidded, his hips tilting up to take more.
"Another," he said.
