Page 73 of Under Construction

Dennis props himself up on an elbow, openly appreciating the view. His fingers trail through Chris's happy trail, down to where his pubes are newly trimmed—so different from their first hookup when they were wild and natural.

Dennis misses tugging those curls when he's stroking Chris's tired cock, misses the coarse texture against his palm.

He'll tell Chris to stop trimming later. Chris is always doing these little things for Dennis’s comfort, but he wants all of Chris, exactly as he is.

"You could put some clothes on first."

"Why?" Chris scratches where Dennis’s fingers have been teasing, completely at ease in his skin. "Ashamed of what you did to me, princess?" He grins to himself, facing the ceiling, smug as anything.

"Ashamed isn't the word I'd use." Dennis’s eyes follow Chris as he rolls over and off the mattress with a groan, then pads across the room, muscles shifting under tan skin.

His cock sways with each step, and something possessive curls in Dennis’s chest at the slight bow to Chris’s walk—evidence of how thoroughly Dennis had sucked and ground against him earlier.

"No?" Chris throws a grin over his shoulder, catching Dennis staring. "What word would you use then?"

Satisfied.

Claimed.

Mine.

Dennis pushes these dangerous thoughts away. Instead of answering, he gestures him closer with two fingers. "Come here."

"Thought you were cold." But Chris is already moving toward him, dick starting to chub up just from Dennis’s hungry gaze.

"I am." Dennis reaches up, wraps gentle fingers around Chris's balls, using them to guide him closer. "Guess you'll have to warm me up."

Chris's laugh catches in his throat as Dennis nuzzles against his cock, now properly hardening. "Insatiable."

"Your fault." Dennis’s tongue darts out, catches a bead of precum from Chris's slit. Then he wiggles the tip of his tongue inside until Chris's hips jerk. "Making me wait all day at that site meeting."

"You're one to talk, bent over that model explaining the sustainable features to those investors." Chris's fingers thread through Dennis’s hair. "Like I was the only one who couldn't take his eyes off your ass."

Dennis laughs, low and throaty, when Chris's eyebrows pinch together, his full lower lip pushing out into a pout that looks ridiculous on his angular face.

Dennis dips his head without a word, wrapping his lips around Chris's cockhead, letting his pleased hum vibrate through them both.

Triumphant.

Reassured.

Desired.

He takes his time now that they're alone. No rush. No hiding. Just this—the weight of Chris on his tongue, the salt-sweet taste of him, the way his breath hitches when Dennis pulls his foreskin back, tongue finding that tender pink band now exposed and utterly his to toy with.

"Fuck, princess." Chris's grip tightens slightly in Dennis’s hair, drawing a soft exhale at the delicious sting.

Dennis watches Chris's abs clench as he fights not to thrust forward, letting Dennis take his time exploring. Perceiving how the edges of his mouth strain wide around Chris's girth, overstretching the skin and making his jaw ache—a dull, interesting discomfort he welcomes.

"The way you study my dick like it's one of your architectural drawings… it’s like you've never seen one before." Chris's chest shakes with a low laugh.

Dennis pulls off with a wet pop, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. "It's the only one I've ever seen up close," he admits.

He rubs his nose along the prominent vein running up Chris's length, breathing in the musky scent—one he always regrets sucking away with his mouth—that's become oddly familiar. Comforting, almost.

"Maybe I just like knowing what makes you tick."

"Pretty sure you've got that figured out by now." Chris's voice sounds strained as Dennis squeezes his base, making everything tighten and darken. "Christ, look at what you do to me."

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