August moved his arms down and held his hands over Dylan’s stomach. He rubbed over Dylan’s t-shirt, subtly pushing him back against his bulge before letting his hands come to rest on Dylan’s sides. They were nearly big enough to wrap all the way around the boy’s waist.
If he squeezed, he might be able to get his fingers to touch.
“Funny in a good way, right?”
Dylan nodded, and August had to swallow so that he wouldn’t drool. He could see Dylan’s expression reflected in the TV, and he was visibly turned on.
August was tempted to take advantage of Dylan’s obvious arousal – to reach down and grab his crotch while he ground his bulge into his back – but he held back. Dylan was in no state to be having sex.
It also wouldn’t do for Steve to come back to the hotel to find that August and Dylan had spent the morning fucking while he buried his father.
Thinking about Steve and the funeral put a damper on August’s lusty mood. He was glad Ryker had gone with him. Steve wasn’t just burying his father, he was confronting the fact that his father hadn’t been the man he thought he was. It was a loss twice over, and no matter how much John deserved his fate, Steve deserved to be given time to grieve both losses.
“Can you find the movie?” August asked, reaching for the remote on the nightstand and handing it to Dylan.
If he hadn’t been watching Dylan’s reflection in the TV, he would have missed the flash of disappointment that crossed the boy’s features.
“Sure,” Dylan said, taking the remote and turning on the TV. He flipped to the on-demand menu and selected the third Jurassic Park movie, pressing play. He looked up at August. “I don’t remember this one at all. Do you?”
August shook his head. “Not even a little bit.”
Dylan turned his attention back to the TV, relaxing even more and letting his body slump into August’s embrace. He reached down to August’s hand over his stomach, placing his hands over it and absentmindedly stroking up and down August’s fingers. He traced his fingertips over August’s knuckles, pressing the tip of his index finger against the tip of August’s claws, exploring them one by one.
The gentle touches made August’s cock twitch. Dylan froze, feeling the movement against his back, and then huffed out a little laugh. He stopped touching August’s fingers, letting his hands come to rest over his lap instead.
August breathed through his nose, the scent of his omega potent and sweet, and tried to ignore his throbbing cock. He had started leaking pre-come, and it wouldn’t be long before the front of his briefs and Dylan’s back were soaked.
Dylan pushed pause and twisted his neck to look up at him.
“Do you want to squeeze my head between your thighs and jerk off while I lick your balls?”
August’s brain came to a screeching halt, the brazen request catching him off guard and making his twitching cock throb with want.
“Do you want me to squeeze your head between my thighs?” he asked.
Dylan gave a quick nod. He was blushing something fierce, but he looked determined.
“While I’m like this?” August nodded down at his shifted body. Dylan swallowed and nodded again.
August wrestled with himself. He didn’t want to have sex with Dylan while Steve and Ryker were at the funeral, but on the other hand, jacking off didn’t really count as sex, did it?
Dylan was still looking at him, his expression hopeful, as though getting to lick August’s balls while he squeezed him between his thighs was a treat he was hoping against hope that he’d get to enjoy.
August was powerless against that look. “Okay. Show me how you want it.”
Dylan turned around and lay down on the mattress between August’s legs, on his stomach, and before August could prepare for the sensation, Dylan shimmied up until his face was pushing firmly into the bulge of August’s underwear.
He lay there, face buried in the mound of August’s cock, breathing in the scent of August’s crotch and rubbing over his balls.
August reached into his underwear and freed his erection, leaving his balls in the pouch of his underwear where they pressed against Dylan’s face.
“Is this what you want?” he asked, bringing his thighs together on either side of Dylan’s face, trapping him between the muscular limbs and locking him into place against his balls.
Dylan made a noise of agreement.
August squeezed a little harder, lifting his legs over Dylan’s body and crossing his ankles. When he looked down, all he could see was his cock and the top of Dylan’s head between his legs.
“Tap out if you need a break,” August reminded him. He could feel Dylan’s mouth against his balls, lips parting, his tongue poking out to lick at the heavy orbs through the stretchy cotton.
