“I can get myself ready,” he starts, but Robbie interrupts him by shaking his head, taking him by the waist and turning him so his back is to the bed.

“Lie down,” Robbie commands softly, and Lance obeys.

The fever pitch of earlier slows to the careful steps of a new dance. Robbie sheds his boots and jeans, holding Lance’s eyes as he does the same. He helps Lance with the second part, getting two handfuls of the calves of the khakis and pulling after Lance finishes with the button and fly. The sight of his cock, outlined by the cotton briefs, makes Robbie’s mouth water on sight, like it’s a conditioned response. He’s almost sorry that his mouth isn’t what Lance asked for. He’s gotten a taste for sucking off Lance, and he’s pretty sure he’d be content if they never did anything else.

Lance tugs his briefs down and rolls onto his stomach, revealing his perfect ass, and Robbie swallows convulsively, hastily withdrawing the errant thought. He definitely wants to fuck Lance. He’s never wanted anything quite so much, though his hands are shaking with uncertainty.

Maybe sensing Robbie’s unease, Lance looks over his shoulder and smiles reassuringly. “Put some lube on your fingers, and touch me,” he instructs softly, and Robbie fumbles with the cap of the lube in his eagerness to obey. He gets a liberal amount of slick on the pads of his fingers, rubbing them together, testing the lube’s viscosity. He’s barely used lube, but he instantly appreciates the feel of it on his skin, the promise of how it will feel elsewhere. He crawls onto the bed behind Lance and trails the fingertips of his left hand over the curve of his body, wonderingly, then reaches in with the slicked fingers of his right and draws a line through the shadow between his cheeks, toward his hole.

“God,” Lance breathes, falling forward onto his elbows, face buried in the sheets and ass raised obscenely. Robbie swallows, wondering if he could come just from seeing him like this, from feeling the wrinkled skin around Lance’s hole beneath his fingertips. When Lance guided his hand before, everything felt different, and he wasn’t able to see exactly what he was doing. Even when Lance straddled his face, he only got a glimpse before he closed his eyes and used his mouth. The change in perspective, and the addition of the lube, hypnotizes him. He can see Lance’s balls suspended in the shadows of his thighs, and he’s filled again with the urge to try to get them in his mouth.

Before he’s consciously decided to do it, Robbie turns his head sideways, leans in, and pulls one of Lance’s testicles past his lips, his right hand still gently fingering Lance’s rim. Lance gasps and swears and pushes back, just enough that Robbie’s fingertip breaches him and is suddenly squeezed between the tight, smooth muscles, made slippery with just a pinch of lube.

It’s overwhelming, having Lance’s smooth-skinned sack on his tongue, the weight of his testicle in his mouth, the smell of the clean sweat between his legs filling his nose, and Robbie’s finger inside him, offering a tiny pantomime of what he intends to do with his cock. He could come from this eventually, if Lance would just touch him, just a little. But that’s not what either of them wants, so instead he pushes his finger in deeper, to the next knuckle, and opening his mouth wider and using his tongue, he pulls both Lance’s balls past his teeth, caressing them one at a time with his tongue, moaning at the sensation of having his mouth so full in a way that makes Lance shake and moan above him.