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“I’d like to stroke you. Like how you stroke yourself,” Edwin said. “But I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. What if I’m too rough?”

“I’d tell you if you were,” Andrew promised. “But you won’t be.”

Edwin nuzzled Andrew’s cheek with his nose as he wrapped his hand around Andrew’s shaft. After a brief pause, Edwin began to move his fist, first only barely and then finally enough to reveal the rest of the cock’s pink head with each lovely stroke.

“Yes, like that, Edwin,” Andrew whispered in ecstasy. “Exactly like that.”

Edwin began to pump his fist faster, finding a rhythm. Heat pooled in Andrew’s pelvic area, and he squirmed against the mattress. Pleasure needled up his spine, and his hand shot out to fist the covers. Twisting them, he let out a moan, and his legs began to shake.

“I’m coming,” he rasped out.

Edwin sat up and caught Andrew’s mouth in a kiss as Andrew climaxed. Moments later, Edwin broke away. Andrew fluttered open his eyes. Dazed, he lay frozen while Edwin retrieved a handkerchief from his suit pocket and cleaned the ejaculate from his hand. Afterward, Edwin began to clean Andrew’s softening cock as well.

Once Edwin was finished, he set the handkerchief aside. Andrew waited for Edwin to lie next to him, but instead, Edwin walked on his knees, moving lower on the mattress. His gaze was transfixed on Andrew’s pelvic region. He looked . . . mesmerized. After a moment, Edwin took Andrew’s mostly flaccid cock in his hand.

“Edwin,” Andrew gasped.

Edwin began to pull the foreskin back. Andrew startled, lifting his hips.

“Sorry,” he whispered through a chuckle as he settled back down on the mattress. “It’s sensitive now, as I’m sure you know.”

Suddenly, Edwin’s expression changed, transforming from curiosity into something practically unreadable. His cheeks turned pink, and he retracted his hand.

“You can touch me,” Andrew encouraged with what he hoped would be a reassuring smile. “I promise I wasn’t implying that you shouldn’t.”

Shutting his eyes, Edwin only shook his head. Andrew’s stomach knotted with worry, and he sat up. He found Edwin’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked as he interlaced their fingers.

Edwin reopened his eyes, and the knots in Andrew’s stomach tightened when he saw that they were filled with tears.

“You really can touch me,” Andrew tried again. “Or not. Or . . .” He sighed. “Oh, Edwin, I keep hurting you somehow. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, Andrew,” Edwin said, his voice tight. “I’m just . . . tired, I think.”

Edwin wasn’t being truthful, but Andrew couldn’t make himself push him to say more. He didn’t want Edwin to pull away. So, instead, Andrew squeezed Edwin’s hand once, just in case it might provide a bit of comfort. Edwin squeezed back.

Seven long seconds ticked by on the wall clock—Andrew couldn’t help but count them—and then Edwin let go.

“Do you want to lie down with me?” Andrew asked. “I’m a little tired, too.”

“Yes,” Edwin said. “Please.”

Andrew put his clothes back on. Edwin waited, keeping himself propped up on his elbow as Andrew refastened the buttons on his pants. Once Andrew was finished, the two men lay facing one another. Andrew’s eyes fell to Edwin’s clothes, and even though a part of him wanted to suggest that Edwin remove some of them, if only to be more comfortable, he somehow knew he shouldn’t.

Seconds passed, and then Edwin nuzzled his nose.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He pressed a soft, quick kiss to Andrew’s lips. Then he shut his eyes, and his mouth curled into a small, peaceful smile, every trace of sorrow or hurt or whatever had been there before vanishing.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Andrew closed his eyes, too.

***

A series of knocks pulled Andrew out of his slumber, and he bolted upright as his heart slammed into his rib cage. For a few seconds, he was too stunned, too frightened, not only to make a sound, but even to breathe. Edwin lay frozen beside him, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Knock, knock, knock.