He was just about to excuse himself from the bed, fromthe room, from whatever was happening here when Emerson finally spoke.
“Your turn.”
He rolled onto his side so they were facing each other, chest to chest. His voice was still unmistakably sleepy, though.
“You don’t have to,” Luca said, honestly. He was tired, too, and the way Emerson had just been looking at him had been—he didn’t know. He didn’t know how his own face had looked, looking back.
“I want to,” Emerson said. “At least I want to try. I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it, but—please.”
Luca released a slow breath. Emerson had sounded so fucking earnest. “Okay.”
“I think I only have the energy to use my hands. Is that okay?”
A small laugh escaped Luca’s lips. His dick hadn’t necessarily gone to sleep, but it was certainly waking the fuck back up now. “Yeah, Emerson. Of course that’s okay.”
“Can you—I’m sorry. My body still isn’t quite working. Can you get the lube? It’s in the drawer next to you.”
Smiling, Luca retrieved the lube. When he turned back, Emerson had shuffled an inch closer to him.
“Thanks.” Emerson smiled. Luca’s heart thudded some more. He’d just had his face shoved in Emerson’s ass for a not insignificant amount of time, but this felt much more intimate. They were so close, it was impossible to look away. To see anything but every single line of Emerson’s face.
But when Emerson’s warm, lubed-up hand gripped the base of Luca’s dick, he couldn’t handle it anymore, and his eyes fluttered closed. His pelvis tilted into Emerson’s hand, his left leg lifting and hooking over Emerson’s right.
“Yeah,” Emerson encouraged, voice soft but alert now. “That’s good. Is it comfortable for you, like this?”
Luca only nodded. Emerson’s palm swirled up, holdgentle, until his thumb swiped against Luca’s slit. It was all almost too gentle; he wanted Emerson to jerk him off hard and fast so he could get the hell out of here.
And then Emerson leaned forward and kissed him.
Luca kissed him back; of course he did, was helpless not to. Distantly, he wished he’d been able to use some mouthwash first, but Emerson didn’t seem to mind. Emerson’s hand sped up, his grip finally tightening as their tongues tangled, and god. God, it was perfect. Luca wished sex didn’t feel so fucking good. He wished?—
“This okay?” Emerson broke off the kiss to say, and Luca almost laughed, it was such a ridiculous thing to ask.
“Yeah, Emerson,” he managed, and if Emerson needed reassurance, the fact that Luca’s voice sounded so fucking wrecked within, like, two minutes of Emerson touching him should have been proof enough. “This is perfect.”
His eyes had cracked open despite himself, and so he was able to see the smile that Emerson gave him in response, so happy that he looked years younger, decades lighter than Luca had ever seen him.
Luca forced his eyes closed again, found Emerson’s mouth again. His hands fumbled into action, grabbing at Emerson’s side, his jaw, as he pushed into Emerson’s hand. Emerson’s fingers—fuck, they were exactly as Luca had imagined. Even through the slipperiness of the lube, it was like Luca could feel every single detail of the calloused, rough perfection of them. He would’ve told Emerson to slow down, if he could, if he had even an inch of self-control. Because even if it was what he’d just told himself he wanted, he was going to come too fast, any minute, and he didn’t possess the ability to stop. He was making sounds, he knew, that were too loud, that were embarrassing; their kiss had turned sloppy around them, but Luca couldn’t stop kissing Emerson anyway. He was still kissing him, still gripping the side of Emerson’s face when he cameseconds later, all over both of them, all over Emerson’s already-wrecked comforter. Luca should have put a towel down, should have gotten under the covers, should have never made this sex agreement with Emerson in the first place, should have never approached him at that bar.
Emerson was still kissing him, Luca slowly realized, even if Luca had been frozen for who knew how long. It wasn’t sloppy anymore; there were no tongues or teeth involved, just Emerson’s soft lips, gently caressing Luca’s mouth, his nose, his chin.
“I should get cleaned up,” Luca said. “You should, too.”
Emerson, finally, put a breath of space between them, a small, crooked smile on his face.
“No kidding.”
With heroic effort, Luca got himself off Emerson’s bed. He didn’t know if Emerson expected them to get cleaned up together; he didn’t know what Emerson was thinking at all. All Luca knew was that he had to ride the aftereffects of his orgasm into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as fucking possible.
He gathered his jeans, walked to the door with them crumpled in his hands.
“Sleep well, Emerson,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
He closed the door without waiting for a response.
fifteen
They madeit all the way through dinner the next night without touching each other.
