It felt nice to be admired in the way that Ollie was admiring him. Even though Floyd liked himself plenty, it was still a nice feeling to know that Ollie liked him plenty, too.
“Bedroom?” Ollie asked when he was finished.
“Yeah,” Floyd said, taking the wet cloth and dropping it into the water. “Let me carry you.”
Ollie wrapped his arms around Floyd’s neck, and Floyd hoisted Ollie into the air, reminding himself not to move too fast. Ollie’s legs wrapped around him, and Ollie nuzzled the side of Floyd’s face.
“Thank you,” Ollie whispered.
Soon, they were in bed together, and Floyd climbed on top of Ollie, which was kind of new for them. Ollie probably couldn’t hold himself up much because of his shoulder, though, so Floyd wasn’t minding the newness, really, even though he normally loved when Ollie took control. Floyd started peppering kisses all over Ollie’s face and neck and chest, pausing for a moment before moving lower.
“I want to take care of you,” Floyd said. “Can I?”
“I’d like to take care of you, too,” Ollie said, some sadness in his voice.
Floyd came up to kiss that sadness away, first lightly pressing his lips to Ollie’s hurt shoulder and then kissing him once on his plump, pink lips.
“We’ll figure something out even with your shoulder like that,” Floyd said. “But let me care for you first. I been pushing you away when you needed me to love you. I feel so bad about that. I want to show you how important you are to me, Ollie. I want you to know how much you mean to me.”
Ollie pulled Floyd in for another kiss. Floyd continued to kiss him for a while, rolling his hips to massage his erection against Ollie’s thigh. He was so happy, so excited for the two of them to be close again that he could feel himself inching toward the edge already.
Remembering that he wanted to focus on Ollie, Floyd broke their kiss and moved lower on the mattress, coming to hover above Ollie’s cock.
“Tell me what you need.”
Chapter Fourteen
Oliver
Tell me what you need.
For those first few seconds, Oliver had trouble finding his words. What did he need? Anything. Everything. For the majority of his life, people had been telling him what he needed—the salad fork, not the fish fork; piano lessons, not cello; a homburg, not a fedora; and on and on—and now Floyd was sweetly hovering above his cock, asking what it was that he needed. God, Floyd looked so magnificent like that—his eyes hungry, his hair a mess, his lips slightly pursed.
“Kiss me,” Oliver finally managed.
Before Oliver could even clarify that he meant on his cock, Floyd’s lips brushed the tip and the sensation made Oliver shudder, excitement rolling through his body like thunder. Floyd wrapped a hand around Oliver’s length, slowly pulling back the foreskin, and then he planted another kiss on Oliver’s naked head.
“Oh, sweetheart, your lips are so soft,” Oliver said, enthralled by the sight before him.
Floyd kissed him once more.
“Can I lick you, Ollie?” Floyd asked, his low voice husky and raw.
Oliver kind of wanted to kick him for that. Why the hell was he even asking? But then, Oliver looked into Floyd’s big blue eyes, so wide and caring, and realized how much he loved that Floyd was considerate enough to ask. He was probably the most selfless person Oliver had ever met. Oliver could ask him to do whatever he wanted, and fucking hell, he would do it, too.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’d love that.”
Oliver watched Floyd’s tongue slowly encircle the head of his cock. Feeling the wet warmth slide over his skin sent hot tremors of pleasure rippling through him, each exquisite enough that Oliver thought he might finish on the spot.
“I want you to take me into your mouth,” Oliver said before realizing that he’d better be more specific since he was already so close. “Slowly. Please.”
As soon as Floyd’s mouth was around him, Oliver sucked in a breath. Bucking his hips, Oliver clutched the sheets tightly, as though they could tether him to the earth, even though with every passing second, Floyd’s beautiful mouth was bringing him closer to heaven. Floyd bobbed his head. Once. Twice. Three times. With each repetition, Oliver’s cock moved farther toward the back of his throat. On the fourth, Floyd made a little choking sound, and, fuck, it was so perfect, Oliver thought that he might collapse.
“Shit,” Oliver rasped.
“Hm?”
Floyd was looking up at Oliver with slightly teary eyes, his lips still stretched over the head of Oliver’s cock, and Oliver was hit with a fierce rush of fondness.