Chapter Sixteen

Ethan

"WELL, HELLO ," JUSTIN said, and Ethan squirmed in his seat as Justin's eyes seemed to darken. He dropped his things by the door, then pulled his shirt over his head. "I'm game for whatever this is."

And Ethan laughed as Justin pulled off his jeans and boxers after fighting his way out of his shoes in his rush, stumbling across the room.

"You said you wanted to try this, so I thought the chair might be something I could handle…" Ethan started to explain his big plan but stopped as Justin's knees eagerly hit the floor, and his hands landed on Ethan's thighs, a hungry look in his eyes.

"Yes," Justin said, and Ethan couldn't speak after that, only stared down, hanging on to the arms of the chair, white-knuckling with Justin's mouth on him for the first time. As Justin struggled, Ethan saw the determination in his eyes when he looked up for approval, and experienced Justin figuring things out in record time.

Ethan had never felt anything like the sensation of Justin's mouth, his firm hand holding his thigh. It seemed to anchor Ethan in a new way, keeping him with him . Justin's other hand wrapped around his base, working in tandem with his mouth. It was mind-blowing, the sensations almost too intense to handle.

"Justin," Ethan said through a groan, then covered his mouth to keep quiet as Justin got the hang of it, surpassed amateur hour in seconds flat, and sent Ethan on a ride no thirty-nine-dollar desk chair should endure.

Afterward, Justin shared his latest idea. "I want a soundproof beach house," Justin panted while they showered together, and Ethan shushed him as he jerked Justin off. He'd desperately wanted to return the favor, but Ethan was still struggling with that next step.

Being on his knees instantly brought back images he was working hard to move past. He couldn't even dig around in the bottom of his closet for a lost shoe without it all rushing back, consuming him. Then Justin had arrived only to find him curled in the fetal position, protecting his head with his arms from his past. That had been one of their worst days together. Ethan never wanted Justin to find him like that again.

Ethan kissed him, trying to show Justin how much he meant to him. His mind wandered to the memory of Justin showing up that next afternoon with a box containing a shoe rack and a drill, of Justin mounting the tall rack to the inside of the closet door. Justin had fished out every shoe from the floor, paired and hooked them on the stand. He'd lined up Ethan's laundry baskets and a tub of summer clothes across the bottom of the closet and didn't say a word about any of it.

Ethan kissed him harder, holding him tighter as the shower washed away the slickness from his hand and Justin's stomach. Justin's hold, his arms around him, was just as fierce as he kissed Ethan back.

It was good; their intimacy was improving, with Ethan growing more comfortable, beginning to break down some of those high walls he'd built to protect himself. Ethan knew he was healing.