Page 65 of Under Construction

Chris's eyes lock onto their reflection—Dennis perched on his lap, bare from waist down except for those expensive dress socks hugging his calves. His work shirt is still crisp and proper above the waist, though his tie's long gone, and he has a couple of buttons undone at the collar.

They both look fucked out already, before they've even started.

Dennis’s cock fills out against his stomach. Chris's jeans are strained where his crotch is still trapped between them.

"Fuck," Chris breathes. His hands tighten on Dennis’s hips. "You planned this too?"

"The mirror's new." Dennis rolls his pelvis, watching their reflection. His dick bobs against his belly while the friction of Chris's jeans against his ass draws a soft moan from his throat.

Chris's hand slides up Dennis’s inner thigh, inching higher and higher, until his thumb starts stroking the V of Dennis’s pelvis and his knuckles brush against Dennis’s balls.

"Decorator's choice last week," Dennis pants, grinding down harder as they both stare at the decorator's impeccable taste. "Happy accident."

"Nothing's an accident with you," Chris groans.

His other hand glides around Dennis’s waist, dipping lower to cup his balls. Chris weighs them in his palm as his mouth finds Dennis’s nipple through his shirt. His teeth catch the fabric, hot through the cotton until Dennis makes little encouraging sounds in the back of his throat.

"I swear this actually is,” Dennis giggles, “promise!” But Chris doesn’t seem to be listening.

He’s busy watching his fingers slip down Dennis’s shirt buttons one by one. He eases it off Dennis’s shoulders, then pulls a packet of lube from his pocket.

God, that still makes Dennis blush—the way Chris is always so ready to finger fuck him, so shameless and blasé about it.

Despite his own shyness, Dennis helps tug Chris's jeans and underwear down over his ass, eager to finally say hello to his cock.

“Holy shit," Dennis breathes when Chris's dick springs free.

He reaches for it on instinct, but Chris makes them shift themselves instead. Adjust their positions until Dennis’s legs spread as wide as they can over Chris's parted thighs, hooked over his knees.

Chris's hardness presses fat and heavy against Dennis’s spine. Dennis can feel how thick and throbbing it is, long upon his skin.

"Definitely didn't plan how good we'd look together," Dennis admits.

“Let me see your fuckhole, princess,” Chris says, as casual as he’s asking Dennis to pass a report over at work. “Lean back on me,” he instructs as his own hands prop Dennis’s ass up from under his ass cheeks.

Dennis does as he’s told, comfortable with Chris taking charge where his hole is involved.

In the mirror, Dennis’s small, pink, puckered asshole comes into view.

Chris has never disappointed whenever he’s asked Dennis to present himself to him. It always feelssonice, the way he pays attention to it like he can’t get enough of this opening into his body.

With the tip of his longest finger, Chris traces Dennis’s rim over and over as they both watch their reflections. He circles it. Presses against it with a pad. Jiggles it while Dennis stays heavy against Chris's left shoulder, breath coming faster as arousal pools low in his gut.

"I love your hole, princess," Chris murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Dennis’s shoulder.

His fingers pull gently at Dennis’s rim, spreading him just enough to see the pink crinkle smooth out. "Always so pretty for me, so clean and perfect."

Dennis flushes hot—Chris doesn't need to know about his extra-long showers these days, or the discrete black toiletry bag he keeps in his office drawer. But the way Chris worships his body makes all that preparation worth it.

"Beautiful," Chris breathes.

Dennis’s rim flutters at the praise, making Chris groan. Making him slide his palms up Dennis’s inner thighs until they're framing his balls, his taint, his hole.

He pulls Dennis’s thighs wider still, like he’s trying to spread him open completely—revealing every last detail of Dennis’s most private parts, making sure nothing is hidden from him.

Thetoo muchstretch sends delicious tingles radiating into Dennis’s core.

"Look at it winking at me." Chris’s mouth sucks a blotch onto a smooth spot of Dennis’s arm just below his shoulder, then he adds with complete sincerity: "I think it wants me to kiss it."

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