Page 95 of In at the Deep End

Owen couldn’t help himself. He kissed Matt’s shoulder blade. “Thank you.” He threw back the duvet, climbed out of bed, and strolled naked into the bathroom. He opened the frosted glass door and flipped the water on. Seconds later, steam filled the enclosed space, the warm water washing away the last traces of sleep.

Barely a minute after that, the door opened, and Matt got in.

Owen did his best not to react. His cock, however, didn’t get the memo.

He peered at Matt’s empty hands. “Where’s my coffee?” he quipped.

“I decided it could wait.” A heartbeat later, Matt reached for the shower gel, worked it into a lather, and began washing Owen’s shoulders, the scent of bergamot filling his nostrils. Owen relaxed into Matt’s touch, loving the firm, easy strokes, the little noises Matt made as his hands slipped further down Owen’s body, Owen’s cock rising to greet him.

Owen closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensations.

“This is new,” Matt murmured.

“You’re surprisingly good at it.”

“I aim to please.”

Owen laughed and opened his eyes. “If gardening ever dries up, I imagine you’d get excellent customer reviews.”

Matt snorted. “Is that your subtle way of asking me to wash your back?”

“Well, since you’ve volunteered…”

Matt stepped behind him. “Turn round.”

Owen obeyed without argument.

“See?” Matt said. “Bossy suits you less than you think.”

“I’ve been told otherwise.” He stilled as Matt’s hands encountered his arse cheeks, then slid upwards again. Owen glanced down his body to where his shaft curved up, clearly with ideas of its own on how to start the day.

“My turn to wash you.” Owen turned him gently but firmly. “Hands on the tiles.”

Matt chuckled. “Why? Are you planning on destabilising me?”

Owen said nothing, but grasped Matt’s wrists and guided his hands to the tiled wall.

The hitch in Matt’s breathing was delicious.

He filled his palm with gel before spreading it over Matt’s shoulders and back.

Matt bowed his head, and Owen kneaded his shoulder muscles with soapy hands, working his thumbs into the flesh, moving downwards. He dug his thumbs into the fleshy part of Matt’s arse, and Matt moaned.

Owen’s dick switched onto autopilot.

He added more gel to Matt’s firm arse, working it into a rich lather, then pushed his cock through Matt’s crease, brushing over his hole.

Matt arched his back. “Oh. Oh yeah.”

Owen slid faster, tilting his hips, and Matt let go of the wall to reach back and spread his cheeks, the action almost instinctive.

Oh fuck.

Owen wanted in.

Instead, he put a brake on his desires and rubbed over Matt’s pucker with his dick, short, quick glides, his chest sliding against Matt’s back, both of them making noises now.

Too close.