“Of course,” Aaron said on a breath. He unfastened his trousers, pushed at his drawers, released himself. He had a substantial prick in a nest of thick black hair, the end glistening wet.

“God, you’re ready,” Joel said. “I love it. Shove up.”

Aaron moved, not that it left much space. Still, Joel got a knee on the bed, and bent forward. He ran his fingers delicately over Aaron’s chest, flicked a nipple, heard him inhale.

Nice. He dallied over the nipple a little, rolling it in his fingers, then moved to the other. Aaron’s breath was coming short. Joel skimmed his pectoral muscles, which were impressive, then traced a line up, over his powerful shoulders, up his neck which was rigid with tension, but, he thought, in a good way. He brushed his thumb over Aaron’s lips, nudged it between them, felt him suck at it.

“Oh, damn, you’re good,” he said softly.

It wasn’t what Aaron was doing: it was simply what he was. The man was trembling with desire, stiff and aching with it. Those beautiful eyes, the magnificent body, all of it being offered up to him.

He moved the thumb gently in, pushing Aaron’s lips apart because they looked good like that, wet and open. Then he shifted down to the floor so he could get his mouth to Aaron’s nipple.

“Jesus,” Aaron said thickly, around his thumb. “Joel.”

Joel sucked a little harder. Dragged his hand down to get hold of the other nipple, working them both in turn, moved his mouth down to trail his tongue over Aaron’s belly, until Aaron was writhing under him.

He pulled his mouth off at last, and shifted round to seat himself on Aaron’s powerful thighs, looking down at his painfully erect prick, slick with moisture where he was leaking like a Government department. A drop had fallen onto his belly, but was still connected with a line of glimmering spiderweb. It was beautiful.

“Fuck me,” he said. “To be clear, I’m actually going to be quite disappointed in myself if you don’t blow when I touch you.”

Aaron made a sound that might have been a laugh or a gasp of agony. Joel looked at him a second longer, then ran his hand up between Aaron’s thighs, over his balls, up his shaft.

And that was all it took. Aaron convulsed, hips up and head back, gasping aloud, spending like a sailor in a spurt of white pleasure. Joel gave a crack of gleeful laughter. “Fuck. Yes.” He held on, making sure he’d milked every drop, until Aaron made a pleading noise and he reluctantly let go.

Aaron looked like he’d been hit with a brick. Joel sat back on his thighs, watching, until he blinked his eyes open.

“Great God,” he said. “God. That—”