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“Yes! The one inside me right now.”

“Who else’s?”

“What?” He squeezes his eyes shut again but then seems to remember because they fly open a second later.

“Tell me who else’s dick you want.”

He grits his teeth. For a second I don’t think he’s going to answer, which will be rough because I’m close.

“Whose, Dean?”

Maybe I’ve got some masochist in me, because I don’t know what I’ll do if he says someone’s name. Or names, plural.

“Nobody’s.” His body tenses, squeezing my dick inside him. “I don’t want anyone but y—anyone’s dick but yours. Only yours.”

Oh fuck. Fuck me, I will definitely have to unpack this later on. When I’m alone.

“This dick’s owning you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You. Yours. Please. Please.”

The way my heart’s flying right now, I’d swear I’m on the verge of a major cardiac event.

“Use your words, Dean.”

“Please fuck me harder, Mike. Please. I’m so close. Fuck me hard.”

I’m not so far gone I don’t notice he’s back to calling me Mike now.

Hell. I wish I could see his lips right now. More than the lines of tension in the back of his neck.

“Are you mine, Dean?” I shouldn’t ask. I can’t seem to help myself.

“Gah—yes, okay? I’m yours. You have all of me. You always have, Mike. Aah!”

He shudders beneath me, letting loose a low and long groan as he comes without me even stroking him once. The way his shoulders bunch, it almost looks like he’s in pain.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against the bedsheets. “Fuck,” he says again.

For a guy whose mission has been to eradicate swearing from his vocabulary, I’ve gotten an impressive number of fucks out of him today.

When I can’t hold back my release much longer, I pull out and rip off the condom. He gets no time to recover as I roll him over, probably right into the wet spot.

“Open your mouth.”

I don’t aim well. I don’t try. Some goes in his open mouth, most of it doesn’t. I hold his cum-drunk gaze as I squeeze out the last few drops, resisting the urge to brush his hair off his forehead. He still hasn’t had time to cut it, and the shaggy bits up front keep curling into his eyes.

There’s a moment when I forget the client. Neither of us is looking at him anymore. It’s just me with my pants open, straddling Dean’s chest and squeezing the last drops of my release onto his tongue.

Even though we’ve never fucked before, being with him this way feels exactly like home.

He feels like home. Always has.

The way he’s looking at me now, all sated and quietly proud, it’s got my chest threatening to crack open.

The client’s words shatter the moment when he speaks again. “Jesus Christ, that was hot. You two do this a lot? You’re amazing together.”

I look at Dean and he looks at me. Neither of us says a word.