3. 3

Chris was surprised when his phone pinged just after ten that morning. He thought Joaquin would change his mind for sure. It was just an address for a city hotel, nothing too fancy, nothing too shabby either, Chris thought that evening as he crossed the lobby, the floor and room number pulsing in his head with the same nervous energy he'd had when he received the text with those final details a few minutes before arriving.

He didn't get why he was so nervous. He'd done this before. Well, he normally went on a date, or two if the guy was holding out for some reason, but then he got down to this part. Liked it. Was good at it. But something about turning up to a hotel room just to fuck made him feel like a nervous prostitute on their first job.

He couldn't figure out if it turned him on more or less. He'd used the apps—he'd built an app himself, a gaming platform intended to meet people for dating. And that was the thing—he liked the wine and dine beforehand. He liked the build-up. He sucked at the aftermath, which is maybe why he liked the before part.

The elevator doors glided open with a ping and he went in, hit number twenty-three and shoved his hands in his pockets. He shouldn't even be here—Brendan had given him an incredulous look when he said he needed to leave the party early. The celebration of the app booming so quickly and with such an enormous following, of getting the go-ahead to take it public. The gamble had paid off. He had the family back in the black and he hadn't lost a single one of their assets in the process; all of the equity loans he'd taken out were now safely reimbursed, while he retained his position as the majority shareholder and CEO. "High risk, high reward," his grandfather would say.

He felt his stomach lurch as the elevator sped up, slowed, opened on the floor, the sign helpfully directing him left to room eleven. He walked briskly on the carpeted floor, rolled his shoulders when he was outside the door, knocked quickly. He couldn't tell if he was nervous or excited; his dick was certainly on board—he'd been turned on since he got the first message and it hadn't really abated.

The door opened and Joaquin stood before him, his smile small but there, his white shirt unbuttoned at the throat and untucked, feet bare at the bottom of his dress pants.

"Hey," he said. "Come in."

"Hi," Chris replied and walked in when Joaquin stepped back. Chris tucked his hands in his pockets and crossed the room. The city was stretched before them, twinkling lights beyond the floor to ceiling windows, the curtains wide open. The room was furnished perfunctorily—king sized bed with white covers and pillows, armchair next to it, a desk, mirror, bar fridge, bedside tables bolted into the wall, an alarm clock blinking 7:01 with condoms and lube next to it. He swallowed, his palms and stomach tingling on the unpleasant side of nervous.

"How are you?" Chris asked at the same time as Joaquin said, "Hang your suit in the closet if you want to keep it crease free."

Chris turned away from the city view to look at him, his nervous laughter bubbling up. "Jesus, does this make you feel like a prostitute?"

Joaquin gave him a wry smile. "First time?"

"First time, what? Fucking?" Chris asked.

Joaquin shook his head, bemused. "No, hooking up."

"No, but," he blew out a breath.

Joaquin had come back into the room and he was just standing near the end of the bed, relaxed, like he did this all the time.

"Drink? Should we have a drink first? Talk?"

Joaquin gave him that smile again—it was like he was laughing at Chris. "What do you want to talk about?"

Chris didn't know why, but that look made him feel even hotter for it. "I don't know, we could get to know each other."

"So far," Joaquin replied, actually smiling this time, "you've suggested I'm a prostitute and I fuck around enough to not remember the guys I fuck."

Chris huffed, but the way Joaquin's voice slid over those words, his smile, it was doing things to Chris, making him wonder if he could just walk in here and fuck.

Still, he didn't want to insult Joaquin. "I didn't mean it like that, I just," he gave Joaquin a deliberate look up and down, watched him allow it, "You make me nervous."

Joaquin raised both eyebrows. "Why?"

Chris waved his hand at him. "You're so calm and I, you know," he looked at his feet, then met Joaquin's eyes. "Like you."

"You don't know me," Joaquin said, his voice losing the sexy edge from before. "This was a bad idea."

And he was turning for the door.

Chris crossed the space between them quickly and pressed up against his back, his hand sliding around his waist boldly. "Don't go," he leaned down to say against his ear. "I'll stop talking."

Joaquin craned his head back and oh yes, this felt good—the warmth of him, the way Chris' hardening dick rubbed up against the top of his ass.

"Promise?" Joaquin asked.

Chris felt his nerves evaporating under the arousal of having their bodies pressed so close. "Yeah."

"Okay," Joaquin went to turn in Chris' hold.

"Can we kiss?" Chris asked as Joaquin looked up at him.

"I thought you were going to stop talking?" Joaquin leaned in and Chris pressed forward to meet him, their lips brushing.

Chris felt his heart pound, just from a hesitant caress of lips. Oh yeah, he fucking loved this part; he brought his hands up into the fine strands of Joaquin's hair, tilted his head and pressed their lips together firmly.

Joaquin parted his lips and Chris slipped his tongue in, felt Joaquin answering him, stroking his tongue over Chris'.

He slipped one hand down to Joaquin's ass to haul him closer, get their dicks lined up. Joaquin was hardening up and Chris pushed against him, his own dick straining against his pants. The kiss turned rough—Joaquin pushed into it with a desperation Chris could really get behind.

He broke the kiss but stayed close. "What do you want to do here?" he asked.

"Not talk," Joaquin kissed him again.

Shit, but Chris was not going to come in his pants while they rutted together in the doorway. He knew once he came, it was game over, and he really, really wanted to drag this one out.

"No, but," he broke away again, his lips brushing Joaquin's as he spoke. "Do you want to fuck me? Can I blow you?"

Joaquin reached between them and ran his hand up and down Chris' length—a measuring touch. "I don't usually get fucked by my hook-ups, but," he squeezed and Chris bucked into the touch. "I think I'd like that tonight if you can get there."

Chris laughed, surprised against his lips. "I can get us both there," he smirked. "But can I blow you first? Do you like to get fucked after you come?"

"I like to talk a lot less than this," Joaquin kissed Chris again and Chris was helpless to do anything but kiss back.

"Okay," Chris stepped away. "I'm going to blow you, then fuck you. You can come in my mouth." He walked briskly to the bed and got a pillow.

Joaquin chuckled behind him, but when Chris turned, he was standing there, rubbing his cock over the material of his pants, his blonde hair dishevelled, his lips wet where he licked them around his answering smile.

Chris swallowed and walked back to him. "For my knees," he said as he dropped the pillow and surged back in for more kissing, his hands holding Joaquin's head.

Joaquin broke the kiss. "Are you ninety?"

Chris laughed, his hands slipping down to Joaquin's pants. He unbuckled his belt, undid the buttons, pushed Joaquin's hand away in the process, and slid his hand inside his boxers. He was rock hard and hot in Chris' palm—good length, thick—a nice dick that matched the body.

Chris felt his saliva pooling in his mouth as he stroked him, couldn't wait to lick him, get him deep in his throat.

"No," he replied, a little breathless. "I just like to be comfortable."

He dropped to his knees, working Joaquin's cock out of his pants once he was down there. He felt Joaquin shudder above him as he leaned in, one hand holding the base, stroking slightly as he licked around the head, sucked the tip into his mouth, getting it nice and wet.

Joaquin groaned above him and slipped his hands into Chris' hair, "That feels so good." His grip was firm but not impeding movement, just holding on.

Chris sucked him down further, pulled off, licked up and down the side to get him all wet, slicked his cock with his palm before he took the crown back in his mouth and sank down, letting his hand fall away so he could reach down and caress Joaquin's balls.

"Oh, fuck," Joaquin said, his hips rocking forward.

Chris pulled off. Joaquin gave him an incredulous look. Chris laughed.

"No, I'm not stopping, but you can fuck my mouth," he said.

Joaquin panted above him—he was gorgeous, Chris thought as he ran an open palm under his shirt, over his lightly muscled torso.

Joaquin grabbed his dick at the base, slid it past Chris' lips and started to thrust.

Chris moaned, the assault on his mouth and throat immediate. He pressed a hand onto his dick and squeezed to stop himself from coming. He could not come. He could not come, he chanted to himself as he felt Joaquin fucking into his mouth, heard the wet sounds of it sliding over his lips, hitting the back of his throat over the sounds of his constant moaning.

He opened his tear-filled eyes and looked up.

Joaquin was watching him.

Chris blinked, whimpered, felt tears drip down his cheeks, squeezed his cock to stop from coming.

"Fuck, you like that? You ready?" Joaquin panted and quickened his pace.

Chris held the eye contact, moaned around the length punishing his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Joaquin said and tipped his head back as he started to come.

Chris swallowed around him, felt it sliding down his throat.

Joaquin pulled him back with the hand in his hair so his cock was resting on his tongue and Chris got the message and let his mouth fall open.

"Oh, fuck, yes, just like that," Joaquin said breathlessly as he shot his come over Chris' tongue before sliding back in deep.

Chris licked around him, sucked him down again until Joaquin shuddered and pulled back.

Chris flexed his hand on Joaquin's hip and closed his eyes, willed his dick to settle down.

"You alright down there?" Joaquin asked, breathless laughter in his voice.

Chris panted. "Yeah, just, need to not come."

Joaquin laughed at him. He tugged Chris to his feet; he was about to say something but Chris was kissing him before he could.

Joaquin groaned when he tasted his come there, Chris could tell, but he broke the kiss first and dragged Chris over to the bed.

Chris was a mess as he tried to get his pants undone. Joaquin looked over his shoulder and smiled. Chris forgot about his pants and crowded Joaquin from behind, hooked his chin on his shoulder and rutted against his ass as he undid his buttons, kissed his neck.

"Are you gonna last?" Joaquin joked, his ass rolling back in a leisurely rhythm.

"I better," Chris replied but it was a fair question.

"Come on," Joaquin turned, made a space between them and got Chris' shirt open with quick fingers, slid it off, went for his pants.

Chris kissed the side of his throat, leaned down to suck on his nipple, got himself in the way, but Joaquin just huffed as he got his pants shoved down, urged him forward with a firm squeeze of his ass.

"Yeah, Joaquin," Chris said as he rubbed his bare cock on Joaquin's abs.

"Joq," Joaquin said, his voice amused. "Everyone calls me Joq."

Chris stopped watching his dick sliding on skin and met Joq's eyes, he looked sated, amused; Chris grinned at him—he liked that look.

"Jock? You're nothing like one."

"Short for Joaquin," he replied sleepily, but he was taking Chris in his hand and stroking and Chris forgot the conversation.

"Bed. Pants off," Chris said as he bucked into the touch.

Joq let him go, pushed his pants off his hips and stepped out of them as he moved onto the bed. Chris followed, caged him in as he lay back, Joq watching him steadily.

And then they were kissing again, their naked skin sliding together. Chris wanted to touch, everywhere, so he did—hands roaming over Joq's torso, past his dick down to his groin, over his thighs. He pushed them open, broke the kiss and slid down, kissing all that skin as he went, gratified by the way Joq's chest heaved, his dick hardening again already.

Chris bypassed his dick, slid his hands under his ass and lifted at the same time as he swiped his tongue over his taint, went lower and licked his hole, getting him wet before he pushed inside. Joq panted above him but otherwise didn't say anything; he cupped the back of Chris' head and held him there, pushing down until Chris gave him what he wanted, breached him with his tongue and fucked in and out a few times.

"Okay," he said shakily and lunged up for the condoms.

Chris dropped the lube and condom by Joq's hip, bracketed himself over him to kiss him.

He had to fuck him now. He felt a tinge of regret but he was too turned on to worry about it.

He sat back, opened the lube, wet his finger and hoisted Joq's leg over his shoulder before he dragged his finger down over his balls, rubbed his taint, and pushed inside as Joq bared down.

"How much prep do you need?" Chris asked. Joq was blindingly tight.

"Not much," Joq panted.

"I need to be able to get my dick in there," Chris said, eyes fixed on where he was fucking Joq with a finger.

Joq laughed around his panting. "You're not that big."

"I'm pretty fucking big," Chris replied, amused.

Joq fucked himself on the steady assault on his ass, and Chris added another finger, stretched him quickly and decided to take him at his word.

He pulled out, ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, got it out and slid it down himself. He lined up, flicked his eyes up to check in before he pushed.

"Would you like me to write it down?" Joq asked, smirking.

"What?"

"An invitation to fuck me?"

Chris smiled, but he saw for the first time something fragile behind the snark. He pushed so the tip was inside. It was so tight that he groaned as Joq arched his back to sink down further. Chris thrust shallowly, opening him up. He hooked Joq's thigh under his arm to give himself more room as he forced himself all the way in with a jagged breath.

It was rough from the first thrust. Joq was clearly struggling to take him and yet he urged Chris on with a hand clenching on Chris' ass painfully.

Chris cracked a smile as he pulled out and then slammed in again.

Joq gasped, arched his back and pushed down for more.

Chris slid his dick out all the way before sliding back in to the hilt. He leaned down and kissed Joq, a messy crash of panting mouths as he fucked him, Joq's breaths punching out of him against Chris' lips.

Chris let his legs go so he could settle in deep, his arms coming to rest on either side of Joq's head so he could fuck him deep and close, kiss him properly. Joq gripped his ass, squeezed to urge him on. The sound of Chris' groin slapping against his ass turned into a tighter, wetter sound, mixed with the sounds of their kissing, their groaning.

He felt himself rapidly approaching the edge—his lower abdomen tingled, the tight, wet heat around his dick too good. He pulled back, sat up, slid his hands down to grip Joq's hips and yank him back into his thrusts.

Chris pulled out and slid the condom off, got a hand around himself and stroked his dick.

"Oh, fuck," he started to come, watched the ropes of white shoot over Joq's hard dick, his abs. He knee-walked forward and aimed higher, shooting over Joq's chest, hitting his throat, the side of his mouth.

Joq laughed breathlessly under him.

"Kinky," Joq said.

"Sorry," Chris smiled breathlessly as he reached down to take Joq in hand. He jerked him off and watched his face. Joq watched him back. The feel of his dick was hot in Chris' palm and as he breathed roughly, licked his lips, caught some of Chris' come with his tongue, Chris realised he liked it.

Joq arched as he started to come.

"Yeah, fuck, feel good?" Chris asked.

Joq's eyes were closed and he didn't answer as he finished.

Chris let him go and fell forward, hands on either side of Joq's head as he caged him in and watched him come down.

Joq opened his eyes. Chris grinned at him.

"Don't ask if it was good," Joq slurred.

Chris chuckled. "Okay."

He reached down and started to rub his come into Joq's skin.

Joq's torso vibrated under his hand as he laughed softly.

Chris watched the path his fingers made through their come and waited to feel turned off, to feel like he wanted to get out now.

He didn't feel it. He leaned down and kissed Joq.

Joq made a surprised sound into his mouth. Chris liked that. He let his body settle on top of him and kissed him slowly.

Shit, but if they stayed the night, he could definitely go again—he liked the feel of Joq's skin, liked his smell, loved the feel of his tongue sliding against his own. He was relishing in it, chasing it, amazed by it—

Joq broke the kiss. "Up," he said and pushed at Chris' shoulder gently.

Chris pulled back. Joq patted him on the ass and slid out from under him.

Chris fell back and caught his breath, watched Joq's bare ass as he disappeared into the ensuite. He heard water running and mourned the thought of his come being washed off. Shit, what was wrong with him? That was filthy.

Joq came out of the bathroom, scrubbed clean, leaned down for his pants and boxers, slid them on and watched his hands as he fastened his pants.

"You're leaving?" Chris asked.

Joq flicked his eyes up. "Yeah?"

Chris did this all the time; he'd never been on the other side of it—wanting to cuddle then go again.

But Joq was focused on buttoning up his shirt, that focus already cutting Chris out.

"But you'll call?" he asked and suppressed his cringe.

Joq huffed a laugh. He was fully dressed now and leaning over the bed. Chris pushed up to meet his kiss.

Joq pulled away far too soon. "Thanks," he said. He smiled a genuine enough smile but it was like he was thanking a particularly accommodating shop assistant for finding him what he needed.

"Room's booked all night if you want to stay."

"Why would I want to stay?" Chris asked as he got up, grabbed for his pants off the floor. "Do you really have to go?"

"I do," Joq replied and moved for the door.

Chris was pulling his pants on, at a loss as Joq opened the door.

Joq paused, looked over his shoulder. He was smiling, something like relief in it. "Thank you. That was good."

"So you'll stay and we can do it again," Chris moved towards him without bothering to fasten his pants.

Joq cracked a grin like Chris was joking and opened the door. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

"Well, fuck me," Chris huffed.

He could still make the party if he wanted. Yes, he should do that, he thought as he got dressed, the smell of Joq lingering on his skin.

He ignored Brendan's raised eyebrow when he arrived and proceeded to get thoroughly drunk.

Later, as he fumbled with the lock on his door, the sun rising behind him, something occurred to him.

He crashed into his house and ran a hand through his hair and grinned. He wanted to see Joq again. He wasn't repulsed, quite the opposite.

"Boom!" he shouted at his living room and laughed.