twenty-three years old. He knew that. He knew that taking off his godforsaken trousers was the logical culmination of all this kissing. He also knew that he wanted—well, whatever Will wanted.
“Or we can keep them on,” Will said, in the same easy tone of voice. “We can keep kissing or we can stop. We can go for a walk. We can have supper. You can read to me.”
“What do you want?”
“Any of those things. I want a chance for us to make one another feel good, and any of those options would do that, I think.”
Martin raked his gaze down Will’s body, from his untidy hair to his red mouth down to the extremely obvious erection in his trousers. “Go for a walk, indeed. I’d like to see you try in that condition.”
“What would you suggest, then?” Will said, adjusting himself so casually Martin had to catch his breath.
“Trousers off,” Martin whispered.
Will had his own off in about two seconds, and then lay a hand on Martin’s waistband, his fingers curling suggestively under the fabric. “May I?”
Martin nodded, unable to take his eyes off Will, fully naked now, kneeling beside him, his cock jutting up toward his stomach. Then he felt his trousers sliding down his hips, cool air on his exposed skin.
“Oh fuck,” Will whispered, looking down at him with something like reverence. Martin almost rolled his eyes, but then he felt Will’s hand wrap around him. It was too much, the feeling of someone else handling him when he had tried so hard not to even handle himself.
“Wait,” he choked out, and Will withdrew his hand immediately. “Let’s go back to kissing.” Kissing was good. Will seemed to agree. They were in perfect accord. As they kissed, he could feel Will’s hard length against him. Martin wanted to touch him but didn’t know if he was allowed—and he knew he was being incredibly stupid because Will had just touched him as if it were a perfectly normal and expected thing to do while naked and in bed with someone, which was compelling evidence that he would not mind his own cock being touched. And yet—
“You all right?” Will murmured.
“It’s. Um.” He waved a hand in the general direction of their pelvises. “You,” he added eloquently. “My hand.”
That was probably the moment Will realized he was in bed with a lunatic. Something crossed his expression like sudden understanding. But instead of scrambling to get dressed and beating a hasty retreat, he nodded. “Will you touch it for me?”
Fuck. Martin went utterly still. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How did he know? How could he possibly know that Martin needed to be asked? Martin himself hadn’t known he needed that. He put his palm on Will’s stomach, then slid it down until his littlest finger was near the head of Will’s prick. He glanced up at Will, whose gaze was flickering between Martin’s face and his hand.
“It’ll feel good for me if you touch it. I’d really like it.”
On the one hand, this should have been obvious. On the other, hearing it from Will in that gentle voice made all his thoughts turn into warm syrup. It was like the Shaving Incident all over again, Will’s gentleness and praise working like witchcraft on Martin’s warped mind. Or maybe it was just that Will was so good; if he was asking for something, praising something, then it must be good too. He wrapped his fingers around the silky skin, heard Will let out a breath.
“That’s it,” Will said as Martin stroked. “You’re doing so well.” And he pulled Martin in for a kiss. Kissing was good, already familiar, a reminder that this was Will he was touching, Will he was pleasing—and there his thoughts went dissolving into treacle again. Will was pushing tentatively into his fist and Martin realized he was rocking his own erection into Martin’s hip.
“You could bring it alongside mine,” Will whispered. “And hold us both together. That would feel good for me.”
It was a testament to how far gone Martin was that he did it without hesitation. It took nothing at all after that—well, it took a steady stream of praise from Will, and the usual kissing and hair petting and general coddling, but very little in the way of actual touching—and Martin was spending onto Will’s stomach, followed promptly by Will.
They lay there for a bit, still kissing, Martin feeling simultaneously very clever and like an absolute dolt, Will in some kind of post-orgasmic fugue state during which