“Come here.” Adrik motioned to the space in front of himself.
Without hesitation, he crossed the small space between them, his skin humming with anticipation. He adored this—the push and pull, the way the power dynamic shifted like sand.
“Next time we fight for it. Deal?” Adrik’s fingers were at Hans’ waist now, certain and warm. He unsnapped the denim and slid the zipper down, his knuckles grazing Hans’ skin in a way that made his breath hitch. He pushed the jeans and black fitted underwear to the floor.
“Deal,” Hans rasped, looking down at him.
Adrik just nodded, his expression softening into something Hans hadn’t expected. Then, Adrik leaned in. He brushed his lips against Hans like the sweep of a butterfly wing—just a ghost of a touch, but enough for Hans to catch the smell of mint and feel the radiating heat of his skin.
Hans didn’t let him pull away. He leaned into the kiss, pouring every emotion into it. It wasn’t a battle for dominance; it was a slow, deep-seeking of union. He craved Adrik’s mouth, their shared breath and rhythm. When their tongues met, there was a wave of genuine wonder. How did I get so lucky? The deliciousness of the man’s scent mingled with pine shower gel overwhelmed Hans.
“Are you sure?” Hans asked, voice low.
Adrik stilled, searching his face. “Hans… what are you afraid of?”
“Hurting you.”
Adrik’s expression softened, all heat and certainty. “You won’t. I want this. I want you.”
“I want to do all kinds of things to you,” Hans whispered against his lips, the words a promise and a threat all at once.
“Whatever you want,” Adrik replied, his voice a low vibration. “Do it so we can both feel like we’re one.”
“Take off your clothes, Adrik,” he commanded.
“Yes, Professor!”
Hans leaned back against the dresser, taking his time, savoring the sight of Adrik peeling off each layer. Adrik sat on the edge of the bed wrestling with his boots. A small V-shaped scar above Adrik’s earring caught Hans’ thumb. A desperate need to know the story behind every scar and every inch of his skin overwhelmed him.
When Adrik stood up to undo his belt, the playfulness was gone. He looked vulnerable, yet strong. The snap of the belt through the loops sounded like a roar in the silent room. Adrik shrugged out of his jeans, kicked them away, then let his black thong fall to the floor, standing nude in the soft light.
Hans’ gaze dropped, and he couldn’t help lingering too long at Adrik’s enormous erection. Adrik was built as Hans had imagined—and then some. “I’d like to take a shower first, are you okay with that?”
Adrik nodded as he walked to the bathroom and turned the water on. Hans followed him in, staying as close as a second skin. Steam swirled in the cramped stall, thick, carrying the sharp, clean bite of pine-scented gel. Hans squeezed a dollop of the green liquid into his palm; his gaze fixed on Adrik. He watched the way the lather broke into white trails against Adrik’s damp skin.
“Turn around,” Hans murmured, his voice low against the hiss of the spray.
After Adrik turned around, Hans stepped into his space. He pressed his palms flat against Adrik’s back, the gel acting as a slick lubricant. He moved his hands in slow, deliberate circles, mapping the muscle beneath. As he worked his way down, his fingers didn’t just pass over Adrik’s backside—they lingered, kneading, claiming, enjoying the friction and the heat.
Every time Adrik looked back over his shoulder, Hans met his gaze with a heated, challenging smirk. He was looking for a flinch, a tremor, or a sign of hesitation, but found none.
Hans moved his hand back up to Adrik’s neck to pull him closer.
“You’re very calm,” Hans noted, his thumb tracing the line of Adrik’s jaw as they swapped places. “I like that.”
He leaned back against the wet tile, letting Adrik use the gel on him, but his eyes never left the other man. Bravery and experience were all the same in the steam. For now, Adrik belonged where he was. They rinsed the shampoo from each other’s hair and then their bodies, letting the water wash away all the bubbles.
Adrik stepped out first, drying his hair with one towel, then throwing it on the tile, and wrapped a clean towel around his waist. When Hans followed, Adrik was waiting for him and reached out, drying Hans’ damp hair with another towel, and pulling him in for a lingering kiss. Hans leaned into the attention, soaking up every second. Hans wrapped his own towel around his hips, ready to see just how far this “anything you want” promise would go.
The steam from the bathroom followed them into the bedroom, clinging to their skin. A strange, beautiful tension settled between Hans’ legs as his cock swelled.
He led Adrik toward the bed, but before they reached it, Hans stopped. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of a scar on Adrik’s shoulder, making sure his touch was light, almost reverent.
“I just want to feel every inch of you, and know where you end and I begin,” Hans murmured, stepping behind him. He inhaled the man’s scent.
An audible tremor ran through Adrik as he shivered in agreement. Hans moved his hands to Adrik’s chest, his palms flat against those firm muscles, touching the rapid, heavy beat of Adrik’s heart. It was a rhythmic confession of just how much power Hans held in this moment.
“You’re shaking,” Hans whispered.
