Page 90 of Poolside

Tommy brushed his thumb over the wet tip of his cock, shuddering at the soft touch. “Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he growled as he resumed stroking himself. “It’s hot and pretty and I want to look at it when I come.”

For a moment Chuck looked like he didn’t believe him.

“Please, baby,” Tommy pleaded, the frenzy of arousal burning away any desire to play it cool.

The confused look remained on Chuck’s face as he tugged off his shorts and briefs. It was still there when he splayed his legs back open, giving Tommy a perfect view of his soft cock resting in a thatch of red curls.

Tommy’s hand sped up, working his shaft as he drank in the sight of Chuck’s naked body. His breathing grew shallow and heat twisted at the base of his spine, tightening and tightening until he felt himself approaching his release.

“Baby,” Tommy breathed, sliding his free hand down to cup his heavy balls. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His fingers slipped lower, brushing over his taint before dropping lower still. His finger pressed against his hole, not doing anything but teasing, but it spurred the hand on his cock into overdrive. “Gonna come,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Gonna come and it’s all because of you, pretty boy.”

He came with a silent shout, back arching as his cock pulsed in his hand, spilling cum over his fist. He bucked his hips, chasing his pleasure to the very last drop, even as his mind went blissfully blank.

Good.So fucking good.

He cracked an eye open, finding Chuck at the other end of the couch, still quiet, still watching Tommy, his mouth slack.

Tommy’s lips tugged up into a smile. “So,” he began. “That happened.”

Chuck just nodded at him.

Tommy sat up, grabbing his boxers from the floor and using them to clean the mess off of his hand. “Was that okay?”

Again, Chuck nodded.

“Not too much?” He needed to know he hadn’t pushed too far. That he hadn’t fucked up.

Chuck leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on Tommy’s cheek. “I’m so glad it’s you, T.”

CHAPTER26

ALL LAID OUT THERE

CHUCK

“How are you sleeping?”

“Fine.” Chuck curled his toes inside his Converse, frowning down at the place where the white rubber lifted from his movement. “Actually, no. Not great. I drift off fine, but when I wake up in the middle of the night, I have a hard time falling back asleep.”

Dr. Anderson smiled understandingly. “Loud thoughts?”

“Screaming thoughts,” Chuck admitted. “And just, loneliness? I don’t know.”

“Have you talked to your boyfriend about it?”

Chuck shook his head. “He’s already doing enough for me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Chuck shrugged. “He’s taken everything I’ve thrown at him in stride. He’s been patient and understanding. When I tell him I need space, he gives me space. If I’m quiet and withdrawn, he keeps me company. He cooks me dinner and brings me homemade cookies. It’s got to be too much for him, right?

Dr. Anderson watched him with a quiet discernment that always made Chuck squirm, and tapped his pen against his thigh. “And what about what you do for him? Are there ways that you take care of him?”

Images flashed through his mind: Tommy, red-eyed and defeated on his front stoop in the wake of his divorce with nothing but a duffel bag clenched in his fist. Tommy asking if he could come over. Tommy asking if he’d help him train for an open-water swim.

When Tommy had been at his lowest, he’d come to Chuck.

“Yeah,” he finally said. It was an honor to support a man like Tommy. To be the one he came to when he needed someone. It was something Chuck cherished.

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