Page 120 of Under Construction

While Chris tidies up gala debris, Dennis finds Chris's old phone—his gaming phone—and taps on his game. The volume blasts through the apartment, followed by the distinctive sound of gems being spent.

"Princess, what the fuck? I was saving those gems for the Dragon Slayer sword!" Chris's voice, high and panicked, carries over from the baskets at the other end of the room where he's sorting through their laundry.

Dennis keeps tapping the screen, the corners of his mouth twitching. The little spending noise keeps pinging until Chris runs over and lunges for the phone, but Dennis rolls away, cackling.

"You're lucky you're pretty," Chris grumbles, landing a sharp smack on Dennis’s ass that leaves a bright red handprint. He shakes his head as he returns to the clothes, muttering about ungrateful princesses and their expensive habits.

Dennis feels a happiness that makes him dwell on Chris's seemingly ridiculous suggestions about running away. About living together. About it just being them.

Sometimes Chris talks shit. Always running his mouth, always playing around. Dennis tries not to take everything he says to heart. It hurts less that way.

In the shower, Dennis kisses Chris with his eyes closed. His palms explore Chris's chest, feeling his nipples harden under his touch. Chris hums into his mouth when Dennis gently tweaks and pinches them. Dennis watches Chris's reactions closely—he loves when Chris plays with his chest. Wants to return the favor. But Chris just focuses on shampooing Dennis’s hair, working the product out with careful fingers. Until they both spit and sputter when shampoo suds slip between their lips.

Chris's words about running away, about just them—they stick in Dennis’s head until they're dried off.

Until Dennis takes their clean clothes from Chris's hands and drops them on the counter.

Until he pulls Chris by the wrists from bathroom to bed.

Chris's eyebrows shoot up, then his mouth curves into that knowing look.

"Baby, we need to head out before everything closes. This isn't LA, you know,” Chris drawls, but he follows anyway.

Dennis pecks his lips. "I know. Just something quick. I really appreciate what you did for me today—what you do for me all the time." His eyes keep darting to Chris's face then away, teeth catching his bottom lip like he's trying to say more.

But it’s hard to know how to say it, sometimes.

Instead, he pushes Chris down by the shoulders so both of them are on their knees.

Then pushes Chris down until he’s on his back.

Then straddles his hips.

Crawls up his chest.

Past his neck.

Finally, he positions himself over Chris's face.

Chris's breath hitches. "Oh my fucking god, is it my birthday?" His hands grab Dennis’s ass, squeezing hard as he turns his head to mouth and suck at his inner thigh. "Am I dying?"

"And to apologize for spending all your gems," Dennis adds sheepishly.

Chris laughs, spreading Dennis’s thighs wider, sweeping his thumbs over the flushed skin. "Ride my tongue, baby,” he instructs. “Best apology ever—spend all my gems, I don't care. You should spend them more often." He yanks Dennis down and shoves his tongue deep, making Dennis gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Dennis doesn’t say a word. This is Chris's reward, and Dennis won't touch himself. Chris gets to control their pleasure now.

"Fuck, you should thank me more often too." Chris's words come out muffled and wet. "You taste amazing, smell amazing, you're so fucking amazing, princess." He pats Dennis’s ass. "Move for me."

Dennis rocks against Chris's mouth, switching between his rim and balls—Chris loves being smothered by them—then positions his taint for Chris to suck. When Chris's grip tightens, Dennis knows to wiggle his ass until his ring is around Chris’s tongue, then rise and fall, fucking himself on it.

His fingers card through Chris's hair over and over. He can't look away from that gorgeous jaw working, that perfect nose wet with spit, those full lips sucking and pulling at the edges of his hole like they own it. Chris's face is pure bliss. Theslurping sounds of his mouth mix with his strokes below as he beats himself off.

Chris never lasts long eating Dennis out. Despite all their earlier fucking, Dennis feels Chris spasm under him as he comes, breathing hot and fast as he pants and moans between Denni’s legs.

When Chris’s muscles stop twitching, he spreads Dennis wider with his hands, tongue delving into that soft, pink heat until Dennis’s thighs tremble. When their eyes meet, Chris works his fingers inside through Dennis’s orgasm—his own way of saying thank you for Dennis’s sweetness tonight.

They're up soon after, getting dressed between kisses.

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