Page 83 of Contested

Marcos tore the condom wrapper open and pulled it on clumsily. Sebastian’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t say anything. Marcos reached for the lube next, flicking the cap open and squeezing some into his palm.

He coated himself carefully, working the lube down over the condom with slow strokes that had his jaw tightening before he forced his hand to stop.

When he looked down, he saw Sebastian slick his fingers with some lube as well, and watched as he slid them in his hole, eyes closing as he did.

When his eyes fluttered open, he pulled his fingers out and rested his hands near Marcos’ legs. His face was flushed, his cock still hard against his stomach, and his eyes were on Marcos in a way that should have made him feel steadier.

Instead, uncertainty started filling him again.

It came quieter this time. The fact that wanting this badly did not mean he knew how to do it. That Sebastian might be experienced, but Marcos wasn’t, and he was kneeling there with lube on his hand still trying to figure it out.

Sebastian noticed. He shifted, then adjusted himself again, raising his legs and resting his ankles on Marcos’ shoulders.

Marcos’ thoughts stopped as he noticed Sebastian was still wearing his white socks.

He stared for half a second too long before he realised what he was doing, but realising didn’t make him look away. Sebastian was naked under him except for the socks, legs lifted, thighs opened, ankles pressed against Marcos’ shoulders, and he couldn’t stop the heat rushing through him.

Sebastian’s mouth twitched. “You right?”

Marcos swallowed and nodded, dragging his eyes away from the socks. “Yeah.”

“Did…the socks do something for you?”

Marcos’ gaze snapped to Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian’s grin spread.

“Shut up,” Marcos muttered, heat crawling up his neck.

Sebastian did shut up, but he looked too pleased with himself. He shifted his hips closer, moving his ass toward Marcos’ cock until the slick tip rested near the entrance.

All other thoughts left Marcos.

Sebastian’s face changed. The grin faded back into something softer and more focused. His hands came down, firm on Marcos’ thighs, and he watched him closely.

“Okay,” Sebastian said softly, watching Marcos closely, and placing his hands firmly on Marcos’ thighs. “Just…feel me.”

Marcos watched Sebastian, a little confused by the words.

Then Sebastian’s palms pressed into his thighs, not pushing him away, not pulling him forward either. Just letting Marcos know how much pressure existed between them.

Marcos understood. He adjusted his weight, one hand at the base of his cock, and helped slide the slick, lubed-up tip across Sebastian’s waiting hole. Sebastian quivered as he did, a low moan escaping him. Marcos did it again, slower, feeling the tight ring of muscle under the head, feeling how Sebastian’s hands pressed slightly harder into his thighs.

Not stopping him, but preparing.

Marcos pushed forward.

Resistance came instantly.

Sebastian didn’t push against his legs, so Marcos kept going forward, careful and steady. The tip slowly started slipping in.

Sebastian let out a hiss. His hands pressed harder into Marcos’ thighs, and Marcos stopped at once.

He didn’t pull out. He just waited, holding himself there, feeling the tight heat around the head of his cock while Sebastian breathed deep beneath him. Everything in him wanted to push, to sink in, to know what the rest of that heat felt like, but Sebastian’s face had tightened, and Marcos made himself stay exactly where he was.

Sebastian’s eyes shut. His breathing came deep and careful. One inhale. One exhale. Another. His fingers flexed against Marcos’ thighs, then eased.

Marcos watched every bit of him. The line of his mouth. The tension in his stomach. The way his legs stayed where they were on Marcos’ shoulders.