Page 64 of Under Construction

Chris has already got Dennis’s zipper down, fingers hooking into pristine white cotton to free his half-hard cock.

His eyes study Dennis’s face. Travel down to watch his chest heave. Then that mouth wraps around him, slow and wet and hot, god, so hot around his tip before sliding halfway down his shaft.

Chris sucks and drags, circles with his tongue and laps just under the flare of Dennis’s head until all thoughts of permits and professionalism and propriety dissolve into static.

After a month of this—of being absolute shit at keeping their hands off each other—Chris's mouth is as skilled as it is demanding.

It twists Dennis’s stomach in ways that make him spread his legs wider. Cant his hips up a little more. Make rambling, panting noises spill from his lips, completely unfiltered.

Dennis would rather not stop, but he does when he notices Chris palm and squeeze himself through his jeans, the bulge there huge and tempting.

Because Dennis has got other plans tonight.

He grabs Chris's hair, yanking his head back until Chris pops off with a wince.

"Get up," Dennis hisses, skin practically crawling with need.

It's been a wholetwenty-four fucking hourswithout Chris all over him and he's done waiting.

"Bossy," Chris snarks from the corner of his mouth, one eye closed at the sting in his hair.

But he rises, lips red and shiny with spit, and Dennis wants nothing more than to wreck that gorgeous full mouth even more.

"Iamyour boss."

Dennis stands up, fingers shaking with impatience as he unclasps Chris's belt. He yanks it out in one fast motion like a whip and throws it across the room.

His fingers attack Chris's jeans buttons next, ripping them through their holes with apop pop pop.

He steps forward, backing Chris towards the leather couch on the other side of the room.

When Chris doesn't move fast enough, Dennis shoves him, palms flat against his chest.

"Remember?"

"Hard to forget when you—" the back of Chris's knees hit the couch and he drops onto it with anoof. "When you keep reminding me." His eyebrow quirks up and lips twist, playful and curious.

"Someone has to keep you in line." Dennis stares him down, then hooks his thumbs into the sides of his pants and underwear and strips them off in one smooth motion.

He steps out of his clothes and kicks them aside, watching Chris's eyes go wide.

Dennis straddles his lap, knees caging Chris’s thighs. Grabs the hem of Chris's shirt and rips it over his head, chucking it to the side to join the mess he’s made.

"Since you clearly can't behave yourself."

"You like it when I misbehave." Chris's hands slide up under Dennis’s shirt. He hums appreciatively at what he finds there, having discovered something tasty. "Like it when I push your buttons."

His touch slides back down and onto Dennis’s hips. Then his grip tightens and he's twisting Dennis around.

Dennis catches on fast, using Chris's shoulders for leverage as he lifts himself. They pivot together, Chris's strength and Dennis’s quick reflexes making it work.

His thighs land on either side of Chris's legs facing the mirror, fingers grappling for Chris's forearms to steady himself.

"Push this." Dennis grinds down hard, watching in the mirror as Chris's head falls back with a strangled noise.

Twisting at the waist to face him, Dennis reaches back, weaving an arm behind Chris's shoulders. His fingers thread through Chris's hair from the back of his head, before closing a loose fist in the strands to prop his head back up.

"Eyes on the mirror."

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