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But Joq could see it too if he wanted. He’d told George a thousand times to put a band-aid or blue-tack over his camera. George always snorted, ‘Whose gonna wanna watch me staring at my screen?’
Right now, Joq wanted very much to see what George was about to do on his screen. He slid his laptop closer and hacked the camera. The image that accosted him almost made him gasp. He hit the mute button.
Finn was standing over George in nothing but loose sweats, chest bare, his legs shifting like he was rolling his feet on the carpet. George was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands reaching out to slide up the side of Finn’s thighs.
“What do you want?” George asked shakily, but sure too; it was a genuine question.
Finn breathed out above him, equally shaky. “What do you want?” He placed his hands on George’s shoulders tentatively.
George arched up and Finn bent to meet him.
Joq watched them kiss. It was so careful—their lips barely brushing, the sound of their breathing obscenely loud. It was George who added the hint of tongue.
Joq’s own breathing had grown loud in his ears as he watched them feel the other out and find the same overwhelming desire, held back by some shyness that said more about what Joq was witnessing than anything else.
This was their first time.
Finn spoke against George’s lips. “I want to suck you off.”
George groaned and deepened the kiss.
Finn met him, panting. He broke the kiss and searched George’s eyes then surged back in for more. He pulled away again and they moved as one to get Finn to his knees between George’s spread thighs—Finn slunk down while George wrapped a big palm around his nape.
Finn’s breathing was laboured as he looked at George’s dick—hard and thick as it strained against the fabric.
“The idea is to suck it,” George said.
“George,” Finn whined, but he cracked up and dropped his head on George’s abdomen. His body shook as he laughed, and Joq watched George smiling down at him, the hand on Finn’s nape tugging his hair.
Finn got himself under control, sat back and flicked his eyes up.
“I want…” Finn trailed off.
“Whatever you want,” George replied, heartbreakingly sincere, and Joq realised he’d never heard him sound like that. He was the one about to get his dick sucked, but he sounded like he was completely at the kid’s mercy.
Finn leaned forward and rested his head on George’s thigh, let out a harsh breath. George’s hand went into his hair as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, his voice a murmur. “You want to stop, you tell me.”
Finn’s head jerked up. “I don’t want to stop.”
George kissed him and slid Finn’s hand to his dick.
Joq watched as Finn gripped him through the material. He rubbed, uncoordinated, and George tilted Finn’s head back with the hand in his hair, seizing his mouth in a kiss like he couldn’t stop himself. Finn melted into it, his body going lax at the assault.
It was George who slid his hand down and under Finn’s, got his dick out and brought Finn’s hand back.
Finn stroked and leaned forward. Joq could hear his breathing, loud through the speakers as he gusted a breath over George’s erection. George’s breathing was just as loud, and Joq’s eyes snagged on things—the tiny creases of skin in George’s lower abdomen, the steel quality of his dick, the brown of Finn’s fingers wrapped around his shaft.
Joq felt it in his own dick when Finn licked the head. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried—he was reaching down, squeezing his dick as he watched the most intimate porn he’d ever seen.
Finn was sucking the head into his mouth, air coming out of his nose harshly. George gripped and released his hair as he rocked his hips up, his own breathing so laboured it was devastatingly loud through the speakers.
Finn took his time, whether from inexperience or reverence, Joq had no idea, but he was mesmerised as he watched the kid slide down, slide off, lick around the head before sucking George back down like he was driven by need and not thought. George’s eyes were fixed on him and Joq could see he was doing his best not to buck into Finn’s mouth.
But then Finn sank all the way down, and Joq had to squeeze his dick to stop from coming at the guttural sound George made, his hips driving in without his control. Joq thought Finn would pull off, but he did it again—slid up until the tip was in his mouth, his eyes flicking up to George’s before he sank down again.
“Fuck, baby. Finn,” George panted and rocked his hips up. “Can I fuck your mouth?”
Finn pulled up and off. His voice was a husk: “Yeah. Please.”
