The Deep End Of The Pool

Song for this chapter: “Silver Lining” (Hurts)

The Deep End of the Pool

Chris had no idea how they had made it to Zach’s bed or how they had lost their clothes en route. He only knew there was more of Zach to touch and to taste. And apparently there’d been some truth to that one blind item years ago, or maybe he was just lucky that way, because Zach very obviously had a thing for biting, and – OW FUCK! – Chris didn’t mind that one little bit. Or bite. When Zach grasped his dick with a practiced grip, Chris almost hyperventilated, gasping for breath with futile moans, before he managed to make himself understood.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he cried, writhing, then begged even before Zach could freeze mid-motion, “Don’t want to come just like that. Want the real thing, the real— Just fuck me, Zach. Please.”

“Damn it, Chris, calm down. What the hell did they put on your pizza?” Zach held him down effortlessly, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head. His eyes were almost black now, blazing with irritation and desire.

“I just …” Chris stared up at Zach while his dick pulsed against his stomach, slick with pre-come and sweat. “… want you. And – want you to want me. So much.”

At those words Zach melted against him, heavy and hot. He kissed Chris again, on his lips, his jaw, his cheeks, on his temples.

“I do,” Zach promised. “Want you. So much. More, even.”

“Okay.” Chris sighed. “Okay.” For some reason he could relax a little now, come back to himself. As if his body was beginning to believe in Zach, because he could feel Zach all over: awkward bones pressed together, hips and shoulders, legs tangled, arms linked; naked skin, smooth or rough with body hair, hot and good and oh God, Zach’s taste in his mouth – and their smell, skin and sweat and sex, better than any radical hipster perfume in the whole damn world.

Zach rolled off to his side. He reached for the nightstand and rummaged for the necessary paraphernalia. But his left hand he kept on Chris’s stomach – as if Chris might drift away and disappear the moment they stopped touching. Chris covered Zach’s hand with his, pressing Zach’s fingers into his skin, holding on, Zach’s hand his anchor.

A moment later, Zach pushed himself up and bent over Chris. He touched his lips to Chris’s fingers in a brief caress before he slid their joined hands away, before he stared in obvious fascination at Chris’s belly button.

“So weird,” Zach murmured. “As if you can’t decide whether you want to be an innie or an outie.” He swirled his tongue around it. “I love it. Been wondering for years what it would feel like to kiss you there. Been wanting to do that to you for so long.”

“Fuck—” Chris convulsed, torn between the effects of tickling and desire. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare—”

But Zach was already blowing a raspberry against his belly button, and he didn’t give Chris the chance to retaliate. Because the next thing Chris knew was how Zach’s mouth fit around his cock, how his hand cupped his balls with gentle, insistent pressure, how he still had enough strength and control to hold him down with the other arm … Chris’s brain short-circuited again into a state of mindless pleasure. Instinctively, he spread his legs for Zach, although he was beginning to doubt they’d last long enough for that to happen tonight, no matter how much he wanted it.

Zach was paying close attention to his body, however, and drew away just in time. The unmoving, unrelenting pressure of Zach’s palm on his penis pulled Chris back from the brink once more. “You’ve never done that before? With anyone? Or anything?”

“Well …” Chris couldn’t stop himself from trying to push upwards into Zach’s hand. But Zach was a lot stronger even than he looked. “Fingers, of course. Not all girls are shrinking violets. Toys, sometimes. I can find my prostate without Google maps, but—”

He’d always been attracted to men, too. But for some reason he’d rarely felt compelled to do much about it beyond some fooling around in college that had merely involved heavy petting and mutual handjobs. Later on, there’d been just this one insane, drunken night with blowjobs and rimming during a junket years ago. For the most part he was okay with restraining those desires to the safe realm of masturbatory fantasies. That was easier on his career and his publicist’s and agent’s nerves.

“No, not really,” he summed up his personal experience with gay sex honestly. “But I do want you to fuck me, okay?”

“No worries,” Zach promised. “Will do.” He stretched upwards once more to kiss Chris. “I’m sorry; this isn’t the ideal position for that kind of thing, like, definitely not for the first time. But I need – I need to see you. Your eyes.”

“I don’t …” Chris couldn’t help himself. He had to pull Zach closer, wrap his arms around him, his hands gripping Zach’s ass, hungry, greedy for more. “… I don’t mind pain.”

“Damn it, Chris. Don’t say things like that.” But after another kiss, Zach moved lower, biting again, his nipples this time, and none too gently. Chris hissed at the hurt, but he’d been honest. And right now he was way too aroused to tell pain from pleasure anyway, so he just pressed his erection harder against Zach’s hand.

With a pleased growl, Zach turned his attention to other, more relevant areas of Chris’s body. At a pointed nudge, Chris hitched up his right leg and spread himself open as wide as he could. Zach took the time to shove a pillow under Chris’s ass before he slid his hand to Chris’s cock and down to his balls again, then even lower to his taint, rubbing, circling, pressing fingertips into his hole. Then Chris heard the plastic sound of a bottle being popped open, followed by a liquid squirt. The cool slide of lube startled Chris, but just for a heartbeat. A moment later, his body seemed unable to figure out what was more important: Zach’s hot, wet mouth on his dick or Zach’s slick finger in his ass. When Zach added another finger and began to rub Chris’s prostate with skilful pressure, the electric surge that shot up his spine decided the question in favor of his ass.

“More,” Chris groaned and involuntarily pushed down. “Fuck, Jesus.”

The interruption of Zach fiddling with the condom jerked Chris out of his daze again. A sudden, unexpected rush of adrenaline catapulted him into almost surreal hyperawareness. He hissed through the burning ache of what felt like way too much dick in his ass that followed a moment later. But when Zach stilled inside his body, the descriptions he’d read in one of Iris’s gay porn novels proved to be true. At this stage, he didn’t feel good or bad, just full, full to bursting. A weird sensation, so much pressure inside his body, but it was all kinds of incredible, too, to feel so full, so complete … And Zach had been right about eye contact. Because he definitely needed to see Zach’s eyes. Burning, feverish, exclusively focused on him.

Then Zach gripped his shoulders with bruising force. “Legs up, Christopher,” he ordered, his voice rough with lust. “I know how much you work out. Let’s put those muscles to good use.”

Chris obeyed, and before he had a chance to feel stupid for lying on his back in the exact same vulnerable position he’d enjoyed a dozen girls in, Zach was pulling out, only to push in again. Slow, then fast, pressing close enough against Chris’s stomach to rub against his cock in the process. His calculated, controlled rhythm drove all coherent thought from Chris’s mind. The indistinct pressure of Zach’s body on his dick provided not enough friction to make him come – just enough to make him go crazy with arousal. They kept staring at each other as they moved together, couldn’t look away from each other’s eyes, their gazes locked together. Pain melted away into pure passion, into more than desire, into sensations and emotions Chris couldn’t even begin to define.

Suddenly, Zach hesitated. “Close now.”

Chris couldn’t even nod, and he was way beyond words. Just knowing that Zach was about to orgasm pushed him to the point of no return, too. His balls tightened in aching anticipation. With a wicked grin, Zach slid his hand down between their bodies and gripped his cock, thumbing roughly over the head until Chris moaned, almost too close to climax for comfort.

With a harsh sigh, Zach thrust into him with more force than before, the strokes of his hand around Chris’s dick keeping up the same relentless rhythm. Three times, four times. The pace, the pressure, it was almost too much. No. Not almost. When Chris thought he had to scream or explode, Zach convulsed deep within his body, shuddered all over in an intense, helpless release, his groan muffled in a messy kiss. Even as he slumped over Chris’s body, drained and exhausted, Zach tightened his grip around Chris’s cock once more. He jacked him once, twice – and that was that. Chris came so hard he could feel each spurt in his whole damn body, in every muscle and every nerve.

Afterwards, Zach extricated himself quickly, and yeah, that was rather unpleasant, hurting him in a surprisingly emotional way. But before Chris had time to process the loss of their physical connection, Zach was back with a warm, wet cloth. After he’d cleaned them up some, he pulled Chris into his arms. Not spooning, but face to face. Their legs tangled under the warm duvet, and Zach entwined their fingers with his left hand.

“Need to see your eyes,” Zach whispered, as if he had to justify the position.

“Need you,” Chris murmured his answer, but he didn’t want to look away from Zach’s eyes, either.

They managed to fall asleep like that, looking into each other’s eyes, hopelessly entangled, drifting from post-climactic daze into deep slumber together.

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