Page 39 of Under Construction

These aredefinitelynot his body parts.

Oh.

Right.

Every inch of Chris presses against his back—muscles, skin, even his breathing making itself known with each tiny movement.

His exhales tickle Dennis’s neck. One arm locks Dennis to his chest, the other stretched above them both. Their legs weave together, bare skin on bare skin.

Last night comes flooding back.

Heat crawls up Dennis’s cheeks.

The balcony. The song. Everything before that.

Everythingafterthat.

Holy shit. What was he thinking?! This was supposed to be simple—no strings, no complications.

Now it's messy and weird and all fucked up,ohgodohgodohgod.

"Your brain's too noisy," Chris mumbles against his shoulder.

"Your face is too noisy," Dennis shoots back amidst the panic.

"Your comeback needs work." Chris's arm tightens. "Must've worn you out last night."

Dennis’s whole body stiffens at the reminder. Oh mygod, thesoundshe made.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"I wasn't even that loud!"

"Just calling it like I heard it, princess. And I heard plenty."

"Maybe your ears need ears because that's ridiculous."

"So is your ass—"

Chris rolls his hips forward, his morning hardness pressing against Dennis in a way that makes him suddenly very aware they're still naked.

"Mmm…” Chris breathes him in, long and slow, nose buried in his hair, “ridiculously sexy, that is— but here we are."

Dennis’s eyebrows scrunch together at the remark and he elbows backward.Hard.

It gets him anoofand a laugh that sounds far too pleased about being jabbed in the ribs.

"Too early for this," Chris murmurs against his ear, squishing himself right back, flush against Dennis. His skin prickles when Chris catches the lobe between his teeth, nipping at it then sucking off. "How you feeling?"

Dennis sinks deeper into the mattress, morning haziness making everything soft and fuzzy, lazy and all too comfy, despite himself. "Awful,” he mumbles to the room at large. “Hate you."

"Didn't hate me last night."

No. He really didn't.

Chris's hand slides lower, fingertips finding the bruises on Dennis’s pelvis he left hours ago. His mouth traces from Dennis’s nape to his shoulder, each kiss waking up more nerve endings Dennis didn't even know existed. When he pushes closer, his cock rests heavy along the cleft of Dennis’s ass, no longer urgent but definitely present. "Want breakfast?"

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