his towel, Paolo shot after him and grabbed his arm. “Luis. Stop.”
Luis whirled around, wrenching his arm free before it seemed to click that it was Paolo.
His expression was like nothing Paolo had ever seen. Haunted, lost, confused. As if he’d started walking in one direction and ended somewhere entirely different.
Paolo tugged on his arm. “Come in. It’s cold.”
“You’re the one flashing the neighbours.”
“Only because you knocked once and walked away three seconds later.”
“I knocked three times.”
“Why didn’t you call then?”
“Thought you’d gone to bed.”
Without you? I’ve forgotten how. Paolo hustled Luis inside and shut the door. Luis reached over his head and slipped the chain on, then bolted it top and bottom.
Paolo eyed Luis as he leant on the door and blew out a long breath. “Expecting burglars?”
“You don’t lock your doors at night?”
“You know I don’t. Those bolts haven’t moved in years.”
Luis treated him to a dead-eyed stare, the kind that made it clear he didn’t want to explain himself, and Paolo didn’t feel like making him. After fretting away his evening, he was just glad Luis had showed up. “Do you want to—”
A gentle finger to his lips quieted him. Luis’s other hand moved to Paolo’s towel and loosened it enough to unwind it from Paolo’s waist. He brought it to Paolo’s chest and wiped away the water that still clung to his skin. “You never dry yourself.”
Though he was far from cold, Paolo shivered. “I forget.”
“Why?”
“It’s not important.”
“It’s cold, P. Of course it’s important.”
P. Luis had taken to calling Paolo that when his guard was down. When it was just them, bare skin and nothing else, or at work before the doors opened, and after, when they cleaned up side by side. It was intimate and yet so innocent, Paolo wanted to cry. He let Luis dry every inch of his damp skin and fought the urge to interrupt him with his own wandering hands. He’d learned this about Luis, that sometimes, when he wasn’t quite himself, focussing on Paolo seemed to help.
Besides, Paolo was powerless beneath his light touch. He shuddered and closed his eyes, slumping against the wall as his cock hardened and rose, chasing Luis’s electric palms. For long minutes, Luis evaded, exploring every inch of Paolo except where he needed him most. Then he closed his hand around Paolo’s dick and quickly found a rhythm that had Paolo lurching forward and bracing himself on the opposite wall of the narrow hallway.
Luis slipped into the small space behind him, still working Paolo’s cock. “Do you remember when you did this to me? When you turned me inside out with your hands and put your tongue in me?”
Paolo gasped, lost in the pleasure of Luis’s wicked touch and, at the same time, blindsided by the filthy turn their encounter had taken. He’d expected Luis to be quiet, silent even, not to kill him with dirty words and sinful hands. “I remember.”
“Good.” Luis nudged Paolo’s legs apart and sank to his knees. He kept his hand on Paolo’s cock and softly, like a dream, slipped his tongue inside Paolo.
“Fuck.” Paolo’s head dropped another inch, and his mouth fell open. Rimming Luis had turned his world upside down, but he’d never considered, despite Luis’s fondness for giving out skull-numbing blowjobs, that he might return the favour. Perhaps if he had, he’d have figured somewhere better than the dark hallway as a venue.
Not that it mattered. With his eyes screwed shut, Paolo couldn’t see a thing, not even Luis, with his face buried between Paolo’s legs. I need a mirror for this shit.
Luis drove Paolo wild with his tongue, teasing and light, it set his nerves on fire, only for the steady stroke of his hand on his dick to obliterate them. Paolo’s knees turned to jelly. He moaned loud enough for his neighbours to call the police and choked out a warning. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.”
The words had barely left his mouth when his limbs began to seize. White spots danced behind his eyelids, and he came with a harsh groan.
Luis eased off slowly, his hand first, then his tongue. He got to his feet and peeled Paolo from the wall. “Wanna go to bed?”
Paolo stared at him, lost for words despite having so many to say. He nodded and tried to put some semblance of himself back together, but he had nothing, and Luis had everything, even if he didn’t want it.
Luis led Paolo to his bedroom and sat him