Page 33 of Under Construction

"Bold of you to assume I'd let you do any of the work." Chris's thumbs press circles into the muscle of Dennis’s ass.

His lashes lower for a moment, then he's looking up, eyes boring into Dennis’s with an intensity that makes Dennis’s stomach flip. "Just want to make you feel good, princess. Let me?"

"Chris..." Dennis’s voice hitches. Everything feels too exposed, toomuch. He's half-hard and aching but he's never—

"Hey." Chris's hand slides up Dennis’s spine to cup the back of his neck, drawing him down until their foreheads touch. "Focus here." He catches Dennis’s mouth in a slow kiss, tongue sliding against his.

Dennis feels his shoulders drop, his fingers unclenching where they'd been twisted in the sheets.

"Just this. Nothing else."

Dennis’s hips rock forward instinctively, their cocks pressing together again.

Chris groans into his mouth, and Dennis freezes, guilt flooding his chest.

"But you want—"

"I want you," Chris breathes against his lips. "However I can have you."

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, but the way he's looking at Dennis makes something smoulder hot in his chest.

"Let me show you something else?"

Dennis’s shoulders hunch up, fingers digging into Chris's shoulders like anchors. His heart's pounding so hard he's sure Chris can feel it.

Chris presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Hey,” he says—gently, lightly—pulling Dennis back into the moment. “Trust me?" The words vibrate against Dennis’s skin.

"Ngh," is all Dennis manages, throat too tight for words.

Chris guides them onto their sides, legs tangled together.

The new position brings their cocks flush against each other, making Dennis’s lungs stutter.

Chris's hand slides between them, wraps around both of them at once, and Dennis’s brain whites out at the sight.

"This okay?" Chris's thumb swipes over their heads, spreading wetness to twin groans. “Can I touch you like this?”

Dennis can only nod, fascinated by how they look together. His hand joins Chris's before he realizes what he's doing.

Chris slides his grip lower, letting Dennis explore their tips.

They're about the same length—no one could ever say Dennis was small—but next to Chris...

Dennis has seen his share of locker rooms, but he's never encountered anything this thick. Not anything that’s ever made him stop andlook.

When he clenches his fingers, Chris's cock twitches against his palm.

Dennis loses himself in the sight and feeling. It makes him forget his own arousal, transfixed by Chris’s dick.

Both hands move without thinking—one wrapping around Chris's base, undressing his cockhead from its hood and holding it taut, the other tracing the sensitive pink band under his foreskin.

His breath comes fast and shallow, eyes fixed on how his fingers barely meet around the girth. He doesn't notice he's biting his lip until Chris's thumb pulls it free.

"Like what you see?" Chris's voice comes out rough, strained. His skin simmers hot against Dennis’s palms, cock leaking steadily over his fingers. The scent of sex, sweat, and cologne fills Dennis’s lungs with each breath, intoxicating him.

Chris’s hips jerk when Dennis’s thumb finds the pinched ridge under the head.

"Fuck." His hand shoots out to grip Dennis’s hip, hard enough to leave marks. "You're killing me, princess,” Chris pants, chest heaving now, “turn over for me, beautiful."

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