Page 163 of Under Construction

"Hey." Dennis leans down, pressing his lips to Chris's temple.

Chris rolls his head back to look up at him, forehead creased. Dennis smooths the lines with his thumbs.

"We're past that, okay? If I hadn't been such an ass when you tried to tell me that night at my apartment, you wouldn't have had to go back to LA in the first place." Dennis swallows hard, guilt sitting heavy in his throat. "I could've been less of a dick about the whole thing."

"No, you had every right to be mad."

"I mean, if we're keeping score, I did attack you first. Twice."

Chris's laugh comes soft. "I missed you so much I thought I was gonna die."

"Please, I missed you way more. Like, I thought I was going to die way… um, bigger."

Chris nuzzles hard into Dennis's crotch, making him yelp at the tickle. "Not everything's a competition, Dennis Kim," Chris grizzles. He rubs his face into his thigh. "Unless I’m winning, and I can’t like this, I feel like crap."

Dennis chuckles, running his fingertips through Chris’s hair, capturing strands between his fingers, then letting them go again. "Come on, you're clearly not sleeping. Let's get you into a bath so you can unwind a bit."

Dennis finds two bathrobes in the closet and helps Chris to the bathroom, Chris still leaning against him more from a need for contact than unsteadiness now.

"Gotta pee?" Dennis asks. "Haven't seen you go once since we got here."

Chris shakes his head but when Dennis presses into his bladder, just below his underwear waistband, Chris doubles over with a hiss.

"Go pee, baby, okay?"

Chris grumbles but walks over to stand at the toilet. He lifts the seat and takes himself out of his boxer briefs. Then he stands there, waiting.

Dennis walks past the sink, noting the counter lined with everything anyone might need—men's razors next to tampons, hair ties and band-aids beside deodorant like they never knew who'd need sanctuary here.

He grabs a bottle of bubble bath and runs the water, testing the temperature before pouring it in. As foam starts building, he hears Chris sigh and grunt behind him.

"C’mon, c’mon," Chris mutters, frustration clear in his voice.

Dennis goes over, props his chin on Chris's shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Ugh." Chris sighs again, giving his dick a useless shake.

Dennis reaches for it but Chris twists away. "Princess, stop…” His eyebrows crinkle. “That’s like, gross."

Dennis snorts into Chris’s shoulder. He smacks Chris's blocking hand aside, then hooks his thumb into the front of Chris's waistband, sliding it around to the small of his back. He pulls the elastic down until it’s under the curve of his ass.

Dennis gives one ass cheek a reassuring squeeze before moving back to take Chris's dick gently in his hands—one cradling underneath while the other strokes down. Dennis nestles his head into the crook of Chris's neck, and Chris gradually leans back against him.

"It's not gross, and I'm not stopping," Dennis murmurs. "You go to town on my ass all the time, you know."

"That—that's different," Chris stammers.

"How is it different?" Dennis asks lightly, breathing Chris in as he keeps massaging his pelvis, one hand still holding his dick while the other works the tight muscles around his bladder, drawing a grunt of discomfort.

"Because I love your ass, it's mine," Chris groans, clearly warring between an increasingly urgent need to go and embarrassment.

"And isn't your dick mine?"

"Yeah, course it is, but—ahh!” Chris jolts with a shiver. “You're really not making this easier, princess!" Chris's whole body trembles with the effort of holding back.

Dennis turns his head to plant small kisses up Chris's neck, another behind his ear, sucking his earlobe while his hands keep their steady work. "Come on baby, I loveyou, I love you being safe, being here with me. I love your dick, your pee, thetaste of your sweat—even if you blow your nose on me, I’d love it."

After everything they’ve been through, Dennis means it too.

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