Aaron shut his eyes. Then he went to his knees, and Joel thought he might come there and then.

He reached out, running his hand lightly over Aaron’s face. The shudder he got made him do it again, then more firmly, sliding his fingers over ear and jaw and finally lips, which parted for him. He slipped the end of his finger in, just a little, and felt the cautious touch of Aaron’s tongue.

“Oh Jesus,” he said. “You’re going to be wonderful.”

Aaron made a noise, a little moan. Joel was finding it hard to think. He suspected that breathing and staying upright were about to pose their own challenges.

“Touch me,” he rasped.

Aaron moved silently, easing the cloth of Joel’s opened trousers out of the way, loosening his drawers and pushing them down, letting his hard-on loose. He exhaled, the breath ruffling Joel’s groin, and ran a very light finger across a tangle of hair. “Red.”

“The carpet matches the curtains.”

“It’s beautiful.”

That wasn’t what most people said about ginger pubic hair, but whatever smart-alec reply Joel might have made was lost as Aaron gently circled his prick with a thumb and finger. “God!”

“Tell me,” Aaron said, very softly. “Please.”

“Suck me. I want your mouth on me.”

He felt the tentative flick of a tongue, the light slide of lips, and Aaron took him in his mouth.

Joel had had his prick sucked as often as the next man, and probably quite a lot more than the man in front of him. Aaron was not a rank amateur, this wasn’t his first, but he was clearly no expert either.

And he didn’t have to be, because this was lovely. He was kneeling, sucking Joel, hand and mouth moving with more confidence as he found a rhythm. Serving him, and moaning as he did it, little pleading sounds Joel was sure he didn’t know he was making.

He was loving it. Joel wished his hair was longer: he wanted to grab a handful.

“Perfect,” he said. “Fuck, yes. God, you’re good on your knees. Can you take a little more?”

A fractional pause. Then Aaron leaned in, and Joel’s breath rushed out. “Christ. Oh, you’re good, you’re so fucking good. Just the way I like it.” He slid his hand to the back of Aaron’s head. Not exactly pushing, just a little bit of firmness, and Aaron panted around his prick and took him that tiny bit deeper, and Joel was hanging on by his fingernails now. “Jesus Christ. Lovely. Bit harder— oh, fuck, going to come, move if you don’t want—I’m not joking, Aaron, oh shit—”

He came. Hard, compulsively, hips jerking with the relief and release, right down Detective Sergeant Fowler’s throat.