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Whatever Jack was going to say next, and Harry had no idea, it was buried under the moan he made when Harry leaned in and pressed his tongue to the head of his cock. That feeling of being powerful and in charge ran through him, and he did it again, catching the tang of salt and sweat. It wasn’t terrible. It tasted pretty much like he’d thought a dick would taste—he’d given the subject some consideration in the past few weeks. But the best part was the way that Jack shuddered underneath him, all the muscles in his abdomen and thighs tensing as though Harry’s tongue was electric. A thrill ran through Harry, and he was seized by the determination to take Jack apart using nothing but his tongue. Okay, probably his hands too, as soon as he figured out the mechanics of how to do that without face-planting on Jack’s cock and choking himself to death.
Elbows. They were a thing. He just needed to get at least one of them under him.
“Okay?” Jack asked as Harry did some impromptu contortionist work.
“Uh huh.” Harry panted against his dick, and didn’t that make Jack writhe in new and interesting ways? He realised with a rush of elation that Jack was right—it would be good, because everything that Harry was doing, as clumsy as it was, was turning Jack on. Not that he wanted to rest on his laurels or anything. But right here? Right now? Harry was a blowjob god, and he hadn’t even put Jack’s dick in his mouth yet!
Which, once he attempted it, actually made things a bit trickier, and necessitated getting both his elbows under him, as well as beaching himself like a scrawny whale on Jack’s thighs.
“What are you—?” Jack sat up, which complicated things again. “Just—hang on a second.” He shifted, and space opened up between his thighs. Harry remembered that he had knees as well, and that it was okay to use them to get some leverage. Honestly, he was starting to see why one guy standing and one guy kneeling was such a popular configuration. Much simpler.
But it worked in the end, and at last Harry found a way to position himself that wasn’t a pretzel impersonation. He even had a hand spare, so he curled his fingers around Jack’s shaft—Jack moaned and gave a full-body shiver—and finally closed his lips around the head of his cock. It throbbed in response, and Jack groaned like he’d been punched. Harry took more in his mouth, and found he liked the weight and the silky-smooth texture of it against his tongue. He sucked lightly, unsure if he should treat it like an Icy Pole or a thermometer, but erring on the side of caution. When Jack’s thighs shuddered in response though, he sucked harder.
“Fuuuck,” Jack groaned. He tugged at the hair on top of Harry’s head, the sweet sting of it sparking and fizzing under Harry’s skin. He’d wondered how, exactly, it was meant to be sexy having someone else’s junk in his mouth, but it was all becoming crystal clear as Jack squirmed and panted and fell to pieces. Harry’s dick drooled in response and his balls pulled up tight. Being a sex god was one hell of an aphrodisiac, apparently.
Jack gave a sharp hiss, hips rolling furiously as Harry tried to keep pace, and Jack’s hand tightened and pulled Harry back off his cock. Harry stared up at him, uncomprehending, but then Jack said, “I’m gonna?—”
And he did.
Holy shit! Harry’s mouth wasn’t even on him at the time, though his fingers were still curled around his shaft. By the time he’d registered what Jack was telling him, it had already happened. Spurts of cum hit Harry’s chin and throat, and it was gross and messy and hilarious and hot as hell all at the same time.
Harry stared, wide-eyed, as Jack’s cock twitched and pulsed under his hand, like it had a mind of its own. Now he thought about it, it probably did if it was anything like his own, which was currently hard and aching, curved up against his belly and threatening to blow without any input from Harry at all.
“Get up here,” Jack murmured, and Harry squirmed his way up Jack’s naked, sweaty, body. Jack met him with a kiss, and slid his hand between them, unerringly finding Harry’s dick. “Want me to jerk you off?”
“Nggh,” Harry said, and came all over Jack’s hand. He blinked down at the mess between them. He laughed, breathless. “Apparently you didn’t have to do much at all.”
Jack laughed right along with him and wiped his hand on the corner of the sheet before flopping back against the mattress, pulling Harry with him so he ended up curled against Jack’s side. After a minute he said, “So, I guess you didn’t hate that?”
Harry snuggled in closer, his entire body boneless from his unexpected second orgasm. “I really didn’t hate it. I liked watching you be all overwhelmed by my sexual prowess.”
Jack pressed a kiss to his temple. “You were amazing,” he said, and warmth flooded Harry at the words. It wasn’t that he needed to be told, exactly, but more that Jack had thought to reassure him. He sighed and let his eyes close, only for them to snap open a moment later when his phone started ringing.
He groaned and reached out for the bedside table, frowning when he saw Amanda flashing on the screen. That was next week’s client. He was almost tempted to let it go to message bank, but in the end, he answered it. “Amanda?”
“Harry? Thank God.”
That didn’t sound good. “What’s up?”
“Okay, so you know dinner next Sunday? My parents have moved it to tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Shit. Amanda was desperate for her parents to accept her girlfriend, and Harry was being well paid to be the awful straight-boy alternative. He couldn’t let her down.
Except, Harry was in Goulburn. “I can’t,” he said. “I’m out of town meeting my boyfriend’s family.” The irony of that wasn’t lost on him.
“Shit,” Amanda said, a slightly desperate note to her voice. “I need someone really awful. Is there anyone else?”
Harry ran a hand through his hair and tried to think. He was pretty sure Ambrose was out of town as well this weekend—something to do with the vineyard. And Harry didn’t think he had many friends he could both explain the concept of Bad Boyfriending to and get them to agree to it without them hardcore judging him forever, which really only left…
Oh no.
“Amanda, let me call you back in five, okay?” He ended the call and took a deep breath.
Jack looked at him worriedly. “Everything okay?”
Harry slumped against the headboard as the last of his afterglow dissolved. “It’s a Bad Boyfriend date. She wants to move it to tomorrow. And I don’t want to let Amanda down, because I really like her, but obviously Mia’s wedding is much more important. And meeting your parents. Properly, I mean.”
Jack nodded, brow creased in confusion.
