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“My grandfather’s,” Chris replied. He seemed nervous. He was still the confident young man Joq barely knew, but there was a hint of nervousness in the way he stood like he was trying to be still when what he really wanted to do was move.
But that explained it.
“Is he here?” Joq asked hoping to fuck not.
Chris cracked a smile. “No, he’s dead. I inherited,” he kept his eyes on Joq and went on, though he didn’t seem invested in what he was saying, “I’ve got my eye on a place in Brighton, but this does the trick for now.”
Brighton was prime real estate, which made Joq wonder again what the fuck Chris did.
What Chris was doing now was nothing but stare.
Joq was about to get things started when Chris moved forward. “I was going to offer you a drink, I’ve got food as well,” he slid his hand around Joq’s waist, eyes checking in just before he made the move, which Joq welcomed with a slight tilt of his head, “but I think I need to kiss you first?”
Joq was walked back until he was against the wall and Chris was looming over him.
“Why is that a question,” Joq replied.
“Because,” Chris braced one arm against the wall and crowded him in, tucked his hair behind his ear with the other and stroked his cheek, “we never talked about it. What’s the kissing etiquette if we’re just hooking up? Can we do it if we’re not doing anything else?”
“I thought we’d do everything else,” Joq stated.
“Kiss hello,” Chris leaned down and brushed his lips against Joq’s and pulled back in the world’s worst tease, “then drink and eat, then bed.”
Joq shook his head. “Kissing,” he leaned up, kissed him, and it felt exceedingly intimate as he broke away to finish, “then I’m going to suck you off.”
Chris groaned and kissed him. He shuffled forward and pressed him against the wall, his hands cradling Joq’s face, brushing his cheekbones with his thumbs.
Joq had to break away. It was too much.
“Okay?” Chris asked, he brought his head back slightly, his breathing harsh. “Too fast?”
“I think,” Joq replied and was surprised he needed to keep his voice even—Chris was just looking too closely, too intensely. Joq reached under Chris’ shirt and undid his pants quickly, “I promised to blow you.”
He slid down the wall before Chris could refuse, hooking his thumbs into his waistband and dragging so Chris’ jeans were slung lower on his hips.
“Shit, are you sure, I’m not—”
Joq got his hand around Chris’ half-hard dick and stroked, cutting Chris off with a gasp. He knew what he was going to say—I’m not hard yet—but Joq could get him there. He leaned in and sucked the tip into his mouth.
Chris groaned, braced himself on the wall with his forearms and looked down. Joq flicked his eyes up and smiled around his dick. Chris laughed, rocking his hips forward. Joq could feel him hardening already as he shifted in polite increments into Joq’s mouth, his eyes never leaving Joq’s. Joq had to squeeze his eyes closed as he sank all the way down to the base. He pulled back as Chris cursed above him.
He was suddenly assaulted by the memory of George going soft in his mouth, his bullshit excuses, and the depleted feeling that had sunk in afterwards. But worse, and barely acknowledged, he’d felt like he wasn’t desirable, like he was the kind of guy who inspired other guys to go soft.
He choked a little on nothing because he only had the tip in his mouth, and he had to pull off and smother a broken sound that came out of nowhere. He put his hand on Chris’ dick and stroked him—he was hard and getting harder the more Joq worked him over—but Joq had to hide his face, squeeze his eyes shut tightly as he tried to shake it off.
“Hey,” Chris’ hand wrapped around Joq’s on him while he reached down with the other one to stroke over Joq’s hair, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” Joq croaked.
Chris removed his hands and before Joq could stop him he was tucking himself away with a pained sound, which made Joq crack a nervous laugh, but—
“I can keep going,” he said as Chris planted himself in front of him.
“In a sec,” Chris said completely unfazed.
He was sitting cross-legged in front of Joq in the entryway to his million-dollar townhouse and saying that like it was nothing.
“I’m fine,” Joq said, flicking his eyes up and then down to where his hands had fallen uselessly in his lap. “Just, ah, haven’t done that in a while.”
