He nodded, and I led him away from the crowd to my car.
The drive back to my apartment was quiet. Matt was still clutching his laptop, like it was the most precious thing in the world. When we got to my place, he put it down on my coffee table. Then he let out a small laugh.
“Matt?” I questioned. Was he losing it? I wouldn’t be surprised if the stress of the night had gotten to him. It hadn’t been my apartment, and I was stressed.
“I don’t have my charger,” he managed to choke out. “I went through all the effort of grabbing my computer, and it won’t matter. I don’t have a charger.”
I didn’t see how that was funny, but it was clearly amusing him. “We’ll add it to the shopping list.”
He nodded, still laughing. His laughter was contagious, and I pulled him in to me. The smell of smoke was still lingering, answering my earlier question about whether the smoke was in the air or on his clothes. Both. The answer was both.
“You need a shower,” I whispered.
“So do you.” I did not need a shower. I’d showered before bed. I’d done my entire nightly skincare ritual. “You smell like smoke.”
“That’s you.”
“Nope. It’s both of us.” He had a stubborn set to his jaw that I remembered from our youth. There was no arguing with him once he got his stubborn jaw, and it was too late to argue with him anyway.
Besides, there was a part of me that didn’t want to let him out of my sight. The fear of losing him was still too fresh.
I led him down the hall to my bedroom. My bed was still rumpled from where I’d rushed out of it when he called, and it was inviting me back to its warm embrace. But Matt was stripping off his smoke infused shirt, and that was a lot more tempting than anything my bed could offer me. I picked up his shirt when he dropped it, tossing it into my hamper. My clothesfollowed suit, and soon, we were both naked in my bedroom. I motioned to the en suite bathroom.
I watched as he started to walk toward it, my eyes focusing on the newly defined muscles in his back and his ass. Oh god, his ass had improved over the years. The thoughts in my head were definitely not appropriate for what he’d just gone through, but could anyone look at him and blame me for them? I shook my head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts, and followed him into the bathroom.
He stood aside and let me start the shower. I could feel his eyes on me, as tangible as a touch, as I adjusted the temperature of the water. When the water was finally warm enough, I stepped inside. Matt stepped in behind me. My shower wasn’t made for two full grown men, and it was impossible to move in it without our skin brushing against each other’s. I wet my hair and moved aside for him to do the same.
He looked impossibly sexy as the water rushed over him, wetting his hair and clinging to his sun brown skin. His eyes met mine, and it was like someone had thrown a match over us. We moved as one, colliding in the middle of the small shower. Our mouths crashed together, and he pushed me a few steps until my back was pressed against the cool tile wall of the shower.
The difference in temperature was a shock to my system. The heat from his body at my front, the cool tile at my back, and it was driving me insane. I didn’t know if his lust was fueled by the fire or by something else, and I didn’t want to question it. I only knew that I needed this, needed him. I needed the feel of his body against mine, the taste of his tongue in my mouth. I needed the tangible proof that he was okay, that he was safe, and he was giving it to me.
He was giving me everything.
He fed me his moans. He rutted against me, his hard cock brushing against my thigh, desperate. I gave him my moansback and found myself grinding against him, too. I was just as desperate for him, just as desperate for anything that I could get in that moment.
He pulled away from the kiss, just as the tension was beginning to build behind my balls. I grunted, trying to pull him back, but he didn’t go. “I need…” he exhaled.
“What do you need?”
He answered by dropping to his knees in the shower. He kissed the tip of my cock, his tongue gathering the precum at the slit, and jolts of pleasure coursed through my body. He teased the head of my dick, kissed down the shaft. One of his hands braced on my thigh, and my entire existence narrowed down to that spot. To the spot where he was touching my thigh, to the spots his mouth touched my cock. When he swallowed me down, even his hand on my thigh no longer existed.
He worked my dick expertly. He sucked and licked, alternating between shallow bobs and taking me down his throat. Every time I thought I caught what he was planning, he changed things up. The hand on my thigh moved around to my ass, and I felt the brush of his finger against my hole. I gasped as my nerves lit up.
He pulled away from my cock and looked up at me. “You like that?”
“Yeah,” I moaned. “Love that. Love all of it.”
His finger continued to circle my hole as he went back to my cock. I wanted more. Needed more. I reached down, my hands gripping his wet hair, and pulled him off of me. “One second,” I grunted.
He sat back on his heels, and I leaned across the small shower. I found the small bottle of lube tucked behind my shampoo, kept in there for the rare shower hookup or the more common shower masturbation session. “Might want this,” I told him, passing the bottle to his greedy, outstretched hand.
He grinned as he closed his fingers around the bottle. “I do want this.” I could hear the lust in his voice, the desire, and it matched the desire coursing through me.
Matt pulled me back into his mouth, and I lost track of everything again. The warm heat of his mouth and the things he was doing with his tongue was heaven. It was made better when I felt the first finger breach my hole. I was pretty sure my neighbors could hear the loud moan through the walls, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything other than the pleasure my boyfriend was sending through me.
And all I could do was hold on for the ride. One hand in his hair, one hand struggling for purchase on the wall, as he fucked his fingers in me and took me down his throat. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to fuck myself on his fingers or fuck myself into his throat, but it didn’t matter. No matter which way I went, I was met with pleasure. So much pleasure.
He had me panting and moaning like a slut, pushing me closer to the edge. “So good, baby, so good,” I groaned out. He switched the angle of his fingers, brushing my prostate. My vision whited out, and my toes curled. “Baby, so close. I’m so close, Matt.”
