Cool air hit Greg.
He felt… exposed didn't begin to cover it. He didn't have Dustin's tattoos, his scars, the lived-in skin that told stories. Greg's body was plain and unremarkable.
And Dustin waslookingat him.
“Don't stare,” Greg said, which was hypocritical given what he'd done approximately forty-five seconds ago, but his face was on fire and his cock was justthere, hard and exposed and he hadn't even known it couldgethard before tonight.
“Fair's fair.” Dustin's grin was crooked, his scraped cheek flushed, his eyes dark. “You stared at mine.”
“That was different. Yours hasjewelry.”
Dustin laughed again and then he settled his weight back against Greg and all thoughts of embarrassment fled Greg's mind.
Because there was nothing between them now.
Just skin and heat and the entire searing length of Dustin pressed against him and Greg couldn't breathe.
The feeling of Dustin's body against his, the piercings dragging against his hip, the heat of him, the weight of him, it all combined into an overwhelm of sensation.
Everything hit at once. Every nerve. Every point of contact between them lit up.
“Oh—” Greg's hand flew to Dustin's back, fingers pressing into muscle, pulling him closer when there was no closer left to go. His hips moved on their own, grinding up against Dustin, and the friction tore a sound out of him that he would never, ever be able to take back.
“Yeah,” Dustin breathed against his mouth. “There you go.”
He rolled his hips and Greg saw stars.
“I didn't—” Greg gasped. “I didn't know. That it could be like this.”
“I know, sunshine.”
They found a rhythm. Slow at first, then faster, Dustin's weight pinning him down as they moved together, the friction building between them. Greg could feel the piercings against him, hard metal dragging on sensitive skin, and every drag sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure through him.
It was messy. It was clumsy. Greg's movements were uncoordinated and desperate.
But Dustin didn't seem to mind—which was good because Greg couldn't act any different. He couldn't say anything either. Words had left him. All he had were the sounds, the helpless little gasps and moans he was making as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his stomach.
Dustin's mouth was on his neck again, sucking, and Greg's hips bucked hard. One of Greg's hands was tangled in Dustin's hair and the other was gripping the sheets and his body was singing with tension and he was so close to something.
He didn't know what.
But itwas right there.
And it was massive.
“I—” Greg's back arched. “Dustin?—”
“I've got you,” Dustin said. “Let go. I've got you.”
Greg did.
The world fractured.
It broke apart into a blinding, silent white light that washed through him, and for one terrifying second, he thought he was finally, truly dissolving. But he wasn't scattering. He was coming apart and being held together all at once, anchored by the weight of Dustin on top of him and the sounds Dustin was making as he shuddered and followed him over the edge.
They lay there, a tangle of limbs and damp skin, the only sounds their ragged breathing.
Greg's mind was a vast, quiet expanse.
