Page 119 of Under Construction

Dennis sinks into the feeling, head falling back as Chris's cockhead finds his hole. Chris pops just the fleshy bulb into Dennis’s waiting, slackened rim, then brackets Dennis’s head with his hands. He huffs a laugh when whimpering noises float up from under him.

Dennis’s tongue peeks out, seeking kisses. Chris dips down to trace Dennis’s lips with his own, pulling back each time Dennis’s tongue darts out to catch his.

"Baby, need you now," Dennis breathes, eyes closed, hips moving in slow circles. His fingers trail the backs of Chris's arms, up and down, pinching the soft skin at his elbows. Everything, everything, everything about Chris floods through him like a tide. "Please."

He never, never, never gets enough of this man.

"Anything you want, princess." Chris rises up and hooks Dennis’s legs over his shoulders, then drags him closer with his thighs as he pushes in.

A shared sound of relief escapes them.

Chris rocks into him unhurried, steady. He takes his time until Dennis melts beneath him—arms bent, hands curled by his head, small smile playing on his lips. Happy enough as Chris claims him inch by inch. His lashes fan dark and thick over closed eyes.

"You know, if we ran away you could have this whenever you want." Chris eases Dennis’s legs down, spreading them wide. "No one to answer to. Do things our way. Take the work we're passionate about." He leans in close, voice dropping. "Could fuck my baby princess stupid every day until you're so spoiled you forget anyone else exists. Until you're ruined for anyone but me."

Chris pulls out to the tip, then sinks back in. He repeats this a few times, making Dennis feel every new breach.

Dennis nods, encouraging him. His eyes glaze over, body loose and pliant, offering himself up for whatever Chris wants.

At his next push in, Chris presses his palm into Dennis’s belly.

"Ahh!" Dennis’s spine curves off the bed, a high sound catching in his throat as his nerves light up.

Chris chuckles. His fingers work into Dennis’s skin, following his dick's movement underneath. Fingertips massage around the head, then slide along the shaft, pressing deep to map its shape through Dennis’s belly.

"Press your back flat on the bed, princess."

When Dennis obeys, Chris rises on his knees. The new angle creates more drag on Dennis’s rim, more pressure under his belly, making Chris’s cock more visible beneath the skin.

He watches Dennis grip and stroke along the bulge, before he moves up to circle his protruding belly button with trembling fingers.

When Dennis curses, then nods, Chris slides two fingers under his shaft, pushing them into Dennis’s hole alongside himself. He uses his fingertips to press upward again and again, making it bulge through Dennis’s skin. Each push forces Dennis’s navel to pop out, over and over

Dennis loves this—Chris's special treat just for him. Seeing and feeling Chris's whole length tunneling inside, boring him out so wide he'll feel empty and horny all day after. Just thinking about it makes his cock twitch. The way Chris fills him, owns him—messes with his head like nothing else.

"Don't worry, your highness, there's still wifi." Chris swivels his hips in figure eights, making Dennis feel him chart new territory inside. "You could share that genius brain with the world from anywhere."

Dennis can't think about plans anymore. "Mmm, you've really—ah—thought this through. Yes, yeah, that sounds—mmm—perfect, Chrissy," he slurs as Chris carves him open deeper.

"Yeah?" Chris pulls out, then pushes in slow and deliberate, one last time, feeding Dennis his fat, thick log until his pelvis meets Dennis’s ass. He grinds there, making Dennis sob out little sounds.

Fuck, Chris wasn't joking about making Dennis taste him in the back of his throat—Dennis swears he can feel him there.

"Will you go with me, then?"

Dennis is close. "Ahh,hah, yes, Chris,yes," he gasps. Both hands frame Chris's dick where it moves under his skin, each word matched to a grind that can't go deeper because Chris has already bottomed out. He's agreeing to something but his brain's too fuzzy to remember what.

His yes's tumble from his lips faster and louder until he spills between them. Chris fucks him long and slow through it, holding back just long enough to make it good for Dennis before pulsing deep inside him too.

After, Chris stays buried in him. Dennis forgets the gala drama, Chris's earlier mood—nothing matters except this moment.

*****

They doze until darkness falls, waking to the evening breeze.

Dennis sprawls naked on the bed, making the shapes of skyscrapers and suspension bridges in the ceiling shadows with his fingers. Chris rescues their formal wear from the floor, hanging each piece carefully for dry cleaning.

They debate dinner plans—Dennis can't decide, Chris digs through clean laundry for regular clothes.

---