John jolted like he’d been shocked. Zack bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from how sexy John’s reactions were. His brain whirred with possibilities. There was so much he wanted to do—an endless catalog of sexual possibilities—but they needed to be quick and discreet. They only had one first orgasm together, though. Zack needed it to be more interesting than a blowjob in the backseat.

Zack had never been much for frottage, but it seemed their best bet given the current situation. He straddled John’s lap, slotting their hips together, and pleasure bloomed in front of his eyes.

“Oh,” John moaned. Zack was certain he hadn’t intended to speak.

Zack rocked experimentally against him. It wasn’t nearly enough, just the barest hint of friction through denim, but it still made pleasure surge through him. He rolled his hips forward again, and John threw his head back.

“Fuck,” he panted, “that feels good.” He trailed his hands down Zack’s sides and dug into the small of his back.

Zack picked up the pace, eager for more contact. John matched his rhythm, and soon they were rutting together. The air grew thick with body heat and the sound of their ragged breathing. Zack was so hard, so desperate to get off. He needed more.

He grabbed John’s hips and forced them to still. John mewled in protest, but Zack shushed him and fumbled with the button on his jeans. When John realized what he was doing, he hurried to help him. Together, they managed to open their flies and free their straining erections.

Zack took himself in hand and squeezed. It felt so good, a choked sob fell unbidden from his lips. This was what he’d been missing: direct contact. He looked between John’s legs, not even bothering to be subtle about it. John had a beautiful, long-fingered hand wrapped around himself. He wasn’t as thick as Zack, but he was longer and ruddier. His cock arched out from a nest of light pubic hair. Zack wanted to bury his face in it.

“Like what you see?” John asked with a smirk.

Zack pointedly licked his lips. The cocky smirk flew off of John’s face and was replaced with raw need.

“Let me feel you,” John rasped.

Zack lost all semblance of coherent thought. He lined his bare erection up with John’s and thrust. At the first touch of velvety-hot skin, pleasure coiled tight in his abdomen. When John curled his hand around them both and gave a clumsy stroke, Zack saw stars.

“Fuck,” he panted, “fuck, that’s good. Do that again.”

John obeyed, pumping them leisurely, but then his hand stilled.

“Calluses,” he said. “I’ve been dying to feel them.”

Zack huffed a breath and nodded. He pushed John’s hand away and took its place, skimming the rough tips of his fingers over John’s length.