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“Jack and Harry?” Leo’s voice shook slightly.
“They’re not invited.”
Leo let out a hitching laugh that turned into a gasp when Tristan captured a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tugged. Tristan grinned and did it again. Leo made a needy sound. “Upstairs,” he agreed, slightly breathless. Tristan grabbed his hand and dragged him up the steps.
Tristan flicked on the light and was pleased to find that this one worked—except his room was a mess. Somehow in the process of pulling everything out of his closet in his effort to get dressed for his date, he’d completely forgotten to shove everything back in again in case he actually brought Leo home. It looked like H&M had exploded and there had been no survivors. He flicked the light off again.
Leo didn’t seem to care about the state of the floor or the lack of lighting. He shoved Tristan through the hummocks of clothes on the floor towards the bed. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
Well, yeah.
Another shove had Tristan landing on his back on the bed, and Leo climbed on top of him, his knees settling on either side of Tristan’s hips. They kissed some more, heat building between them. Tristan shivered with pleasure when he rocked his hips up and Leo ground against him.
“We are wearing too many clothes for this,” he said, pressing a line of kisses along Leo’s jaw.
Leo stared at him and bit his bottom lip. He ground down again to really make his point. “We are.”
Leo sat back up, peeled his shirt over his head then threw it to the side. Tristan had to take a second, because under all those boring polo shirts he wore, Leo was hiding a gloriously muscled chest and an actual set of abs.
“Bullshit,” Tristan blurted out. Leo stilled with one hand on the button of his jeans and cocked his head to one side. “You’re not meant to look that good under there,” Tristan said. “You’re meant to be all—accountanty or something, but you’re bloody gorgeous.”
Leo’s face split in a wide grin and he laughed. “Thanks. You do know I’m not an accountant, right?”
“Gorgeous,” Tristan repeated, unwilling to be distracted by something as unimportant as Leo’s day job. He sat up and tugged his own shirt off, running his fingers through his hair so it fell in soft waves around his shoulders because he knew Leo liked it.
Except, Leo wasn’t looking at his hair.
He was looking at Tristan’s pierced nipple, and his mouth was hanging open like he’d seen a particularly ripe strawberry and wanted to take a bite. “Can I—?” He extended a fingertip.
And fuck, Tristan really wanted to feel those fingers on his skin, but. “First things first,” he said. “Pants. Off.”
Leo blinked. “Oh. Right.” He scrambled off the bed and turned his back as he started to peel out of his pants and underwear all at once.
Tristan kicked his shoes off then arched his hips up and shimmied out of his skinny jeans and underwear. He had getting naked in seconds down to an art form. He was down to his skin while Leo’s pants were still tangled around his ankles, which was hilarious, actually. Who forgot to take their shoes off first? That was a rookie error. Clearly, he had a lot of things to teach Leo if he was truly going to live a glorious slutty butterfly life. A slutterfly life. He’d never been someone’s sex Yoda before, but he was definitely here for it. Or, here for it he was, if he was going to embrace the Yoda thing. He probably wouldn’t do the voice, though. That’d be weird.
Leo turned around, a frown creasing his forehead. “What are you grinning at?”
“Nothing. Fuck, you’re hot.”
Leo’s cheeks stained pink. “So are you.” Having shed his clothes, he clambered awkwardly onto the bed and straddled Tristan where he was propped half-sitting against the headboard. He cupped Tristan’s face in his hands and kissed him, long and slow and sweet, completely at odds with the way his hard cock was pressing urgently against the crease of Tristan’s hip. Tristan closed his eyes and lost himself in the softness of Leo’s mouth and the heat of his hands as they roamed his shoulders and chest. Then Leo was pulling away, and Tristan snapped his eyes open at the sharp tug on his nipple piercing. Leo quirked his mouth in a smile as he tugged on the barbell again and Tristan let out a gasp. “Sensitive?”
“Fuck, yes.” Tristan arched his back, rolling into the touch. Leo fixed his gaze on the sliver of steel in his chest as he kept up the teasing, light pinches and soft tugs that made Tristan’s blood fizz and sent tingles down his spine. It didn’t take long before the touches had Tristan desperate for more. In a well-practised move, he flipped them so Leo was lying under him on the bed.
Tristan sat back, his knees on either side of Leo’s hips, and captured Leo’s wrists in one broad hand and pinned them gently above his head, hoping it was okay. It must have been, because Leo did nothing to stop him, just gazed up at him wide eyed.
Tristan had to remember to breathe at the sight of Leo spread out underneath him, his body bathed in the moonlight that was flooding in through the open curtains. With his flushed cheeks, lust-dark pupils and his dark curls in disarray, he was fucking beautiful, and Tristan wanted to rail him until he begged, but he also wanted to bring him breakfast in bed the next morning and make plans to go to the farmer’s market.
He pushed those confusing thoughts aside and focused on what he did best, leaning in for more tequila-flavoured kisses. “How are we doing this?”
Leo blinked up at him like he was suddenly speaking a different language.
“You want me to top?” Tristan clarified. “I’m vers, for the record.”
“Yes.” Leo sounded breathy. “I mean, me, too, for the record, but yes, I want you to top. If you’re cool with that.”
“I am very fucking cool with that.” Tristan released Leo’s wrists so he had another hand to work with, because there was a lot of skin in front of him and he wanted to run his hands over every inch of it. He smoothed his palms over Leo’s pecs and slid them along his ribs before settling them on the points of Leo’s hips, which earned him a shudder and a soft sigh. Tristan ran his hands farther down, tracing across the treasure trail on Leo’s stomach and stroking the skin that led to his inner thighs, rubbing small circles against the flesh with his thumbs there when his hands came to rest.
Leo’s cock throbbed visibly, straining upward like it was begging to be touched, and Tristan wrapped a loose hand around the shaft just to feel the weight of it against his palm. It was as pretty as he remembered. Leo let out a groan and rocked his hips. Tristan leaned over and scrabbled in his bedside drawer, pulling out the lube and condoms that lived there. He squirted a dollop of lube into his palm before taking hold of Leo’s cock again, stroking more firmly this time. Leo arched his back like a longbow and a shuddery breath escaped him.
