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Chris fell back and caught his breath, watched Joq’s bare ass as he disappeared into the ensuite. He heard water running and mourned the thought of his come being washed off. Shit, what was wrong with him? That was filthy.
Joq came out of the bathroom, scrubbed clean, leaned down for his pants and boxers, slid them on and watched his hands as he fastened his pants.
“You’re leaving?” Chris asked.
Joq flicked his eyes up. “Yeah?”
Chris did this all the time; he’d never been on the other side of it—wanting to cuddle then go again.
But Joq was focused on buttoning up his shirt, that focus already cutting Chris out.
“But you’ll call?” he asked and suppressed his cringe.
Joq huffed a laugh. He was fully dressed now and leaning over the bed. Chris pushed up to meet his kiss.
Joq pulled away far too soon. “Thanks,” he said. He smiled a genuine enough smile but it was like he was thanking a particularly accommodating shop assistant for finding him what he needed.
“Room’s booked all night if you want to stay.”
“Why would I want to stay?” Chris asked as he got up, grabbed for his pants off the floor. “Do you really have to go?”
“I do,” Joq replied and moved for the door.
Chris was pulling his pants on, at a loss as Joq opened the door.
Joq paused, looked over his shoulder. He was smiling, something like relief in it. “Thank you. That was good.”
“So you’ll stay and we can do it again,” Chris moved towards him without bothering to fasten his pants.
Joq cracked a grin like Chris was joking and opened the door. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut softly behind him.
“Well, fuck me,” Chris huffed.
He could still make the party if he wanted. Yes, he should do that, he thought as he got dressed, the smell of Joq lingering on his skin.
He ignored Brendan’s raised eyebrow when he arrived and proceeded to get thoroughly drunk.
Later, as he fumbled with the lock on his door, the sun rising behind him, something occurred to him.
He crashed into his house and ran a hand through his hair and grinned. He wanted to see Joq again. He wasn’t repulsed, quite the opposite.
“Boom!” he shouted at his living room and laughed.
4
“You never called,” came from behind Joq where he was waiting for his coffee.
“Again,” Chris finished as he came to stand beside him, a ridiculously happy smile on his face.
“Neither did you,” Joq replied easily, surprised by his answering smile.
Chris grinned.
His phone started blaring in his pocket. Joq frowned and looked away; it was none of his business, but who the fuck was calling this guy all the time? He had a horrible flash of memories—George’s phone going off constantly at weird times, the way George would hastily leave a room. He’d been so stupid.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and faced forward. He was not doing that again. If this guy had a boyfriend or other guys he fucked—Joq didn’t want to know.
“Would you like me to call?” Chris asked, his tone still playful but like he read the mood change and toned it down.
