Page 64 of Diamond Ring
“You look good like this,” Alex says. He vees his fingers so Jake can lick between them, mouth wide enough that spit starts to escape. “I thought I lucked out. Meeting a guy on an app with abs and a job and a decent sense of humor who liked to fuck the way I like to fuck.” He withdraws his hand and wipes it across Jake’s chin.
“Just me,” Jake says. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I liked it better when you were moaning.”
“So did I.”
“I want to—” Alex shakes his head. “Are you gonna answer me this time?”
“Depends on the question.”
“I want to finger you, then I want to fuck you.”
“Neither of those is a question,” Jake says, and Alex looks like he’s about to stick his hand back in his mouth, if only to shut him up. “But yes, I want that too.”
Alex rolls off him. “Anything in your nightstand drawer you don’t want me to see?” He begins rummaging through it when Jake shakes his head, then chucks lube and a box of condoms onto the comforter. He pauses, looking at Jake with an expression somewhere between turned on and surprised, before withdrawing the package Jake hasn’t had time to open, still in its discreet wrapping.
“I did some shopping at that website you sent me,” Jake says.
“That was two days ago.”
“I can afford next-day shipping.”
Alex runs his nail down the tape sealing the box. “Just meant you seemed eager to try it out. Maybe some other time.” He puts the box back without further comment, then kneels on the bed. “Tilt your hips up.”
It takes some maneuvering; Jake shoves a pillow under the bedspread then lies on it, huffing when it shifts and wriggling to get it square. Alex watches him, laughing a little.
“What’s funny?” Jake says.
“I forgot you can be a little...” Alex trails off.
“Compulsive?”
“I was gonna say high-maintenance.” He drops a kiss on Jake’s knee. “I didn’t say I minded.”
Whatever Jake expected, a warmup, a token press of Alex’s fingers, doesn’t match the coating of lube, the careful way he reaches down, shifting to bypass Jake’s cock, a wet rub of knuckles behind his balls, then a circling push.
That watching flicker is there, Alex studying him, and Jake doesn’t know how he’ll be able to see that same look from sixty feet away on the mound and not think about the two of them like this. Alex’s fingers are like the rest of him: thick, blunt, more perceptive than people give him credit for, because he presses against Jake’s prostate a minute later, a series of rolling strokes. Jake doesn’t moan, exactly, but he says a word without beginning or end or clear syllables.
It’s easy to get lost in it, in the movement of Alex’s hand, the weight of him as he settles by Jake’s side, the firework burst behind his own eyelids as Alex varies his motions, as he adds another finger and the pressure of his thumb.
Jake starts to get hard, a stirring he doesn’t want to think about in case he jinxes it, and he half expects Alex to say something, but he doesn’t, just fucks Jake with the steady rhythm of his fingers and the occasional encouragement and the even more occasional press of his mouth.
“I’m good,” Jake says eventually, when his hair is sticking to his forehead, when his bedspread is probably done for from Alex’s continual application of lube.
“Are you good or you think I’m getting bored?” Alex punctuates it with another thrust of his fingers that edges on too much.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Alex gives a considering hum.
Jake tries again. “Please fuck me.”
“Eventually.”
“Alex, I swear to fucking god—”
Alex withdraws his hand, wiping it on the comforter, then reaches for the condoms. “Is like this okay?”
