Page 39 of They Were Roommates
Frankie lay next to him, pressing his lithe body against Diego’s side, tracing his fingers softly down Diego’s happy trail. Diego whined, low in the back of his throat, and Diego circled his cock a few times before slowly trailing lower.
“Oh, shit, you said we need lube.” Frankie started to turn over, but Diego grabbed his wrist and pressed his hand against him. Frankie let out a soft gasp and slowly stroked two fingers through his wetness.
“I want you, so badly Frankie. I’m already wet enough. Please.”
Frankie slowly teased just the tip of one of his fingers into Diego’s hole, who moaned, arching and squirming on the bed. Frankie pushed himself up onto his elbow and stared down at where their bodies were joined as he slid his finger all the way inside.
“Oh fuck, D… you’re so tight… and you’re absolutely dripping for me.”
Diego groaned, shifting his hips, pushing down farther on the bed as Frankie slowly began to work a second finger into him.
“Now… where is your prostate… ah ha.”
Diego let out a guttural shout and then a long, sustained moan as Frankie stroked and then pressed against the spot. When he played with himself, he never assigned words to his parts in his head, in fact, he usually avoided them all together. But something about having Frankie call his anatomical G-spot his prostate lit him up inside even brighter than the spikes of pleasure that cascaded up his spine every time Frankie touched him there.
“How’s that, D? Feel good?” Frankie asked. He dropped soft kisses along Diego’s shoulder and chest.
“Y…yes… oh, fuck, Franklin,” Diego moaned, slowly beginning to rock his hips down onto Frankie’s hand.
“That’s it,mon chéri… take what you need. Show me how to make you feel good, and I swear, I’ll never stop.”
Frankie made good on his promise, working Diego like an expert musician, pulling sounds and noises out of Diego he didn’t even know he could make.
“I’m close, Franklin, please, I’m so close,” Diego whimpered, and Frankie rolled over on top of him, his leaking erection pressing into Diego’s thigh as he pushed his fingers deeper.
Diego came with a shout that started soft and built and built until he didn’t know if it was pleasure or pain he was expelling.
Frankie held him, doing his best to keep his slick hand off of Diego’s skin. Diego shook in his arms for a few minutes but as he settled back down, he felt arousal stir in his stomach again at the tight press of Frankie’s body against his.
Frankie must have noticed because he let out a low sound, almost like a purr. “You can absolutely say no,mon chou, but… I’d really,reallylike to taste you.”
Diego searched his face, looking for any sort of hesitation or question, but all he saw was warm, sensual desire.
“Okay,” he breathed, and Frankie slithered down his body, coming to rest on his belly in between Diego’s splayed open legs. He started slow, tonguing at his dick, and slowly dragging his tongue lower, tracing the small folds with soft licks. He slowly went deeper, mapping out the inside of Diego like Diego had done to him the few times he’d rimmed Frankie. It was amazing and affirming and just so fucking wonderful how similar this experience felt. Frankie slowly worked him open until he could slide two fingers in and then he began stroking his dick with his tongue.
“Oh god, Frankie… I’m not going to last.”
“Good, cause honestly I’m pretty out of practice and my jaw is already starting to cramp,” Frankie commented from between Diego’s legs.
Diego laughed and threaded his fingers through his lover’s hair. He pressed his face down and Frankie let out a soft laugh before he really went to town.
His second orgasm was less shattering. Instead, it felt sort of like he was coming down from a high, but also somehow up from a low. Mellowing out into a beautiful space where he held Frankie, slowly stroking him until he too came with a soft moan, and they slowly drifted off to sleep.
“It was a really beautiful service,”Frankie remarked quietly, and Diego had just enough energy to grunt and squeeze his hand.
They were in the back of an Uber on the way to the funeral reception, which was being held at his mom’s favorite restaurant downtown.
The servicehadbeen beautiful, and Diego had cried like the dutiful son he was, even if his mom had died never having accepted that she had a third son. His siblings and father had been receiving the family when they’d arrived. Diego held back, giving them all head nods but not bothering to approach since he knew most of the people who had come weren’t there to see him.
Diego hadn’t been back home since before he graduated from college, which had also been the last time he’d seen his father and siblings. The church the service was being held in was the one he’d gone to as a kid and young teen, but he’d stopped going at fifteen when the youth group he’d been in had condemned one of the members of the congregation for being bisexual. By then, Diego had begun suspecting he wasn’t a cisgender heterosexual woman, and he’d stopped attending services.
He recognized a lot of people from the congregation at the funeral, and he kept his distance from them as well, standing off to the side and doing his best to be invisible. For the most part, they didn’t recognize him. The few people who did approach him merely nodded their heads in greeting, or looked at him strangely, perhaps trying to reconcile the man he was now with the angry, sad child he had been.
Sofia bustled over to sit with them for the ceremony. She held Diego’s left hand and Frankie held his right. Diego tried to ignore the glares his father was throwing at him for not sitting with the rest of the family.
“I don’t think any of the church peepstotallyhated me,” Frankie said. “So that’s a good thing, I think. I absolutely love Sofia, and I figure she’s really the only person I had to impress, so I’m fairly sure she’s not going to ban me from future family gatherings.”
Diego let out a small grunt. “No, but the rest of the family might ban me for being both trans and gay.”
