by M. K. Lee
Matthew gives him a minute then helps him up and guides Joel to lay back down fully. He strokes a hand over his lower back and worries again that perhaps he's broken him. Joel's just lying there still whimpering softly to himself, and every now and then grinding his hips down against the bed.
Once Joel's breath has evened out he looks up at Matthew through half-lidded eyes, tiredly smiling at him for a second before dropping his head back down with a thud against his pillow, and shakily reaching out a hand to loop around his waist. "Give me a few minutes," he says in a delirious murmur. Matthew keeps on stroking over his back and watching for any signs he's in any kind of discomfort.
Matthew's hand stills when Joel goes silent, and then it's falling to the side as Joel jolts up, kneels, and bends to kiss him with such determination the very air is sucked from Matthew's lungs. "Can you wait for me?" he asks softly with a sweeter kiss as he waits for an answer. At Matthew's nod Joel is standing shakily and sauntering away out of the room.
Joel returns with two bottles of water, already drinking one and passing the other to Matthew to uncap. "Sorry," he says, a blush to his cheeks as he sits back down and clearly is wriggling there to feel the aftermath of those beads inside him. "I get... I always get a little spaced out after that," he admits, screwing his face up as he turns to him.
"I've got no idea why you're apologising," Matthew laughs, leaning and kissing his shoulder. "Just... I didn't... I wasn't sure if I'd hurt you, or—"
"Fuck, no," Joel tells him adamantly and ducks in to kiss him, firmly shaking his head. "That was... fuck no. That was so, so good, I can't... I can't even tell you," Matthew is mostly reassured to hear that and allows Joel to slip the bottle from his fingers and on to the bedside cabinet, then nudge him to shift over a little so that they can lay side by side.
They kiss a little, with Joel pulling Matthew steadily closer to him until they're flush front to front. "You need to come," Joel tells him, though his voice is so low with sleepiness it's a wonder Matthew can hear him at all.
"Unless you're kicking me out straightaway I can wait a while," Matthew tells him; Joel makes a strange disgruntled moan of protest and pulls him closer still.
"Stay. All day if you like. I'd like you to," Joel mumbles into his ear before kissing him again. Matthew grins at him, dropping a kiss down on his nose that has Joel squinting and grinning back at him.
They wriggle beneath the duvet and doze for a while, and though Matthew's got that undercurrent of arousal keeping him from fully sleeping he's peaceful, content enough to lay in Joel's warmth and do nothing else at all. He tells himself he's not reading anything into the way Joel's arms are around him—it's not possessive, or claiming, he argues in his head, it's just friction. And warmth. And post-come glow.
Matthew pretends he isn't watching when Joel wakes properly and goes willingly when he's rolled on his back. Joel proceeds to kiss every inch of him until his skin is singing. Joel's hands can't seem to stop stroking him either, and the nuzzled kiss to his stomach is nothing but tender and the first of many that he presses all the way up his chest before reclaiming his mouth.
"Roll over for me," Joel whispers into his ear as he shifts to give Matthew room, holding a hand out to guide him up on to his knees. Joel angles him exactly how he wants him: splayed legs, upper chest and head pressed flat on the bed, hips tilted and his ass presented ready for Joel to do whatever he's intending. The joint slide of Joel's hands up over his ass has Matthew humming, then groaning as he grips and moulds his cheeks with firm fingers, repeatedly pulling them apart.
Matthew closes his eyes as he feels himself stretched like that, imagining what Joel must be fantasising about looking at his hole. There's a soft puff of warm air over his rim that sends a shiver right through him that's followed by a warm wet lick that's such a surprise he's wailing out an incoherent groan. Another lick over his rim and Matthew's breaths are already coming out in short, startled bursts. A press of tongue blunt against his hole forces out a filthy moan. And then he feels it, the first breach of his ass with a firm, wet, warm tongue licking into him and Matthew is a wreck. He's rocking back without any control over it and is frantic to get more of that warmth inside.
Joel's hands stretch his cheeks a little further apart and a dart of tongue is soon pressing in once again. And then Matthew feels Joel shifting behind him, not knowing what to expect. The insistent lapping at him has him jumping and whimpering out. He feels lips glancing over the pucker of his rim and their warm press around it before Joel's tongue dives in yet again, lapping and licking and swirling inside in a hot slide, tasting as much of him as the tight ring of muscle will allow.
Matthew feels Joel shifting once more and hears a sucking sound followed by a pop behind him. He realises the reason for it when two saliva-slicked up fingers slide right into him in ever deeper plunges that feel so filling, so warm, so very good Matthew doesn't know what he's done to deserve this. He's happy to take it though, and babbles out a string of nonsensical words, as Joel continues to pump him full.
A jolt and Matthew's howling. Joel's scissored him open and is holding him wide like that, licking his tongue in the gap between his fingers and as deep inside him as he can get. And then he hears Joel's complaint of not enough and trembles. Seconds later he's empty of fingers and a warm tongue is licking over his hole once again.
Two fingers slide back into him soon after. The index fingers of both Joel's hands gently though steadily pull and press and open his hole. And then there's the lick, that probing tongue sliding a little deeper inside of him in thick, warm thrusts, feeling so, so good that Matthew's weeping, writhing, pitiful and incoherent, and leaking a stream of pre-cum as his cock jolts and juts beneath him.
Joel keeps lapping at him, insistent and humming out against him intentionally with how much he's enjoying what he's doing to him. Those fingers slide out and Matthew feels the seal of a mouth around his hole before a hard firm suck has him howling all over again. The noise that trembles through him vibrates out in rippling spirals as Joel forces in his tongue and presses up as tight against him as he can get, then rapidly shakes his head back and forth with another exaggerated hum.
Matthew cries, begging for something, anything at all. The sheer pressure of arousal that's weighing down on him and just out of reach becomes unbearable, and his hips are jolting and rocking without any control. Joel teases him with further licks and sucks for a minute or two longer before he's kissing his way up Matthew's back and easing him over.
"I won't make you wait," he promises, shifting between his shaking splayed legs and sucking his leaking cock straight into his mouth. His tongue swirls out to lap up all that pre-cum that's spilt out of Matthew, and then he's swallowing him down greedily and hollowing his cheeks out, sucking him hard. It takes exactly two long drags of lips up the length of his cock before Matthew's coming, hard and arched and all into Joel's waiting mouth. Joel takes every last spurt of it, holding still until Matthew's finished jolting brokenly then pulls off, licking him over until there's not a single pearl of come left.
"Do I need to ask how that was?" Joel asks teasingly, but then he's letting out a soft oh of what sounds to Matthew like sorrow, and sliding his way up the bed. "It's okay," he whispers, pressing kisses all over Matthew's face. It's only at the gentle sweep of Joel's fingers to his temple that Matthew realises he's let out actual tears.
Joel continues to soothe him with kisses, gathering him as close as possible and wrapping him up tightly in his arms. He doesn't let up, not for one second, not until he hears Matthew's self-deprecating laugh at himself and pulls back just enough to look at him. "You doing okay?" he asks, sounding worried. Matthew's boneless and broken and so thoroughly mind-blown that he can't even form basic words. What he does do is submit completely to however Joel shifts him, falling asleep almost immediately in the curl of his arms.
It's an hour or so when he wakes again and Joel's in a snug curl fit behind him, his knees pressed firmly up into the bac
ks of his own and a warm hand splayed wide across his stomach. Fingers card through his hair so gentle it takes him a few seconds to notice it, and when Joel realises he's awake he's gently turning his head, angling him back and raising himself up to press a solid kiss to his lips, nuzzle against his cheek, and grin.
"How are you doing?" Joel asks, careful as anything. Matthew squeezes his fingers in the gaps between Joel's and nods, giving a tired smile. "Did I break you?" Joel asks again and gives a soft burst of laughter when Matthew's unable to utter more than a simple mmhmm, then nuzzles against him once more and tucks himself back fully along the length of his back.
Matthew lets his eyes drop closed, smiling in contentment at the kisses Joel presses to the back of his head, the curve of his neck, the length of his shoulder. It's not supposed to be like this, he thinks to himself, never having considered the nurturing side of this intimate experiment between them. But it's easy to let the thought pop out of his head as quickly as it came when he feels so very safe and comfortable in Joel's arms.
"You know," Joel says then, soft, and with another kiss pressed into the back of his ear, "I'm not really one for sleeping in. Not when I'm on my own, anyway," and Matthew tells himself he doesn't grimace at the thought of Joel with other people, though presses back against him to tell him to keep talking. "But once, when I'd been backpacking, I'd been on two overnight buses, slept, sort of, half-propped up in the most uncomfortable seating in an airport, and then got delayed on a flight. My bus was late, and it was one of those old bone-shaker ones. I don't even know why it was still running; you could feel every pebble the thing drove over."
"I get travel sick on things like that," Matthew manages to contribute, and Joel hums in response, nuzzling into his neck.
"By the time I got home, I was so exhausted, I went straight to bed, barely remembering to kick my shoes off first—which stank, by the way—and fell asleep face down. Woke up something like ten, twelve hours later. Called for pizza, took a shower, and went back to bed again. Didn't surface properly again for another two days. Lived on takeaways and an online shop that resulted in a lot of bad food decisions."
"Sounds like you needed it," Matthew replies, smiling to himself, and after hesitating, raising their joined hands so he can kiss the back of Joel's.
"I felt like death," Joel laughs, sighing against him. "I didn't even care about wasting the day: that's what I always tell myself when I'm too lazy to get out of bed."
"Sometimes lazy is good," Matthew says, and Joel hums in agreement.
"I mean, I wouldn't mind spending a whole day in bed being lazy with you," Joel teases, and Matthew squeezes his fingers in response, angles his head back just enough to claim a kiss.
Matthew listens as Joel whispers more stories into his ear, eventually finding his voice and whispering back with ones of his own. He turns in the circle of Joel's arms and is rewarded with a slow, luxurious kiss that actually curls his toes, which, Matthew decides, is ridiculous. They fall asleep again and this time as they do it's somewhere between the press of one kiss and the next.
When they wake, they're both too sated and comfortable to do much of anything. The rest of their Sunday is taken by quiet conversations and kisses that map the drain of light from the sky. When it's time for Matthew to go there is a long, long hug beside the front door that neither one of them seem ready to pull away from. Their kiss goodbye is brief and quick because their eyes are saying if it isn't there will be no going home.
Matthew collapses into his bed face first, shimmies out of his clothes down to his boxers, and has just enough energy left to plug his phone into his charger and set an alarm. When he checks for messages, which he's helpless against not doing, he sees one from Joel. "You were incredible today. I can't wait to see you again. x," and Matthew's eyes linger over the solitary x at the end of it for far too long.
Matthew grins, that warmth in his chest that's related to Joel just expanding. He types back, "Broken: please come break me again anytime you want," and then a "Goodnight, Joel, I can't wait to see you again either," with a kiss of his own to end it, closing his eyes to find images of Joel painted there: proof of how rarely Joel is from his mind. As he drifts off to sleep he admits how much he doesn't mind that, not one bit of it at all.
Chapter Six
The following week is a busy one for them both, with Matthew working extra yet also having to study more as well. Joel's got his own deadlines, as well as an ongoing dispute with a head technician dealing with a batch of materials returned from an irate customer that he's determined to prove are not faulty, meaning that Joel's barely had any free time of his own either.
They've kept up a steady stream of messages all week long, with Joel managing to come good on one of Matthew's often repeated suggestions of sending him a picture in nothing but one of his lab coats. Matthew expresses his gratitude for it with a string of filthy promises and apologises that he doesn't have much to respond with given he works in an office cubicle shared with three other people. "Accounting's just not sexy," he tells Joel one day by text, scowling at the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him when the formulae he's entered throws back a string of error messages.
"Well, that's bull. I never got turned on by numbers until I met you. Sixty-nine's my favourite in case you were wondering," is rapidly sent back to him and leaving Matthew with a goofy smile on his face all through a difficult afternoon.
Saturday night and they're meeting up with Sarah for the first time since they began this thing between them, which is now several weeks long—not that Matthew is counting, he tells himself. They've seen her separately long before now of course: Matthew's had to endure several of her excited squealing fits when she presses him for news about how it's going every time they talk—which is always. And which he's tactfully sidestepped with nothing more than a good so far, but he knows that's not going to work for much longer.
When Matthew arrives at their usual pub he sees Joel already sat in the corner, and even from this distance Matthew can tell he's a little subdued. He sees Sarah at the bar and wraps his hands around her waist to pull her in for a quick hug in passing, then makes his way over to the table contemplating back and forth with himself over whether it's okay to kiss Joel in greeting like he wants to do, or if he's just supposed to slide into the seat beside him and smile.
Joel answers that conundrum for him the second Matthew sits by giving a quick squeeze of his hand around his thigh and leaning in for the briefest of kisses that they've shared. "Everything okay?" Matthew asks, eyeing him carefully. Joel nods and gives a smile that doesn't really reach his eyes, and tilts his chin back over at Sarah.
"We need to find Sarah a boyfriend," Joel says, firm and decisive. "Girl's got far too much interest in what we're doing," which makes Matthew groan a little and shake his head, planning on having a quiet conversation with her later out of Joel's earshot telling her to back off. He knows how over-enthusiastic she can get when she's living vicariously and can imagine if Joel's not used to it why he's sat there looking so overwhelmed.
Sarah heads back to the table with the biggest smile on her face that Matthew can't help returning. It's so good to see her finally looking happy again since she's been so sad for so long. The three of them clink their glasses together and begin an easy conversation that proves to soften Joel's caution a touch, turning the corners of his lips up into a proper smile of his own.
"How come you always sit on this side?" Joel asks an hour or two into the evening, nodding to the table and then over towards the bar.
"People watching," Sarah tells him without hesitating. "We sit here and watch people. Make up stories about them. Invent back stories and exotic adventures for them when they're probably just working down at the local chippy selling fish to the masses. Pretty wild times, huh?" she laughs, leaning easy into Matthew's side.
"We're not the most outgoing of people," Matthew laughs, shaking his head as he leans back into her unthinking. "We're... you're probably never g
oing to get an invite to join us clubbing, or like... pub crawling, or something. Even when we were at university we'd end up drifting away from the larger groups with a couple of other people and just... sitting in a corner somewhere. We're kinda dull."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Joel assures him, also pressing into his side with a smile. "Sounds more like my kind of night anyway. My own time with people I actually enjoy the company of, and what I do with them." The wink he gives Matthew has him smirking and sliding his fingers up Joel's thigh.
"So essentially, all you two do is meet up and fuck," Sarah surmises from Joel's words, grinning between them both, clearly delighted. "You don't go out together at all? Get a coffee or something when you come up for air?"
Matthew feels Joel flinch beside him before he's pulling away, and a cold blast of air insinuates in the gap between them that Matthew's sure is largely his overactive imagination. "That's... well, that's what you suggested," Joel replies, quiet with caution in his tone. Matthew's stomach starts doing somersaults of panic and he doesn't quite know why.
"Then I'm glad you're enjoying the, uh... the benefits of my wisdom," Sarah grins, looking proud of herself. "Guess I'll have to find my own scratching post now you're off the menu, huh?" She adds, with a leaned in wink to Matthew that's barely an inch from his face. "Unless you're willing to share, Joel?"
Sarah's words are punctuated by a slide and squeeze of her hand up Matthew's thigh which Joel's eyes fall to immediately and narrow at. Matthew knows she's only teasing, though the look on Joel's face tells Matthew he doesn't understand that at all, and is uncomfortable with what he's seeing. Matthew grips his fingers lightly around Sarah's wrist and lifts them firmly away, dropping them into her own lap.
