He’s never seen Zac shy before. It’s captivating.
“Hey,” he whispers, and cups Zac’s cheek. Zac’s breath shudders out of him and he turns his face into Cal’s palm. “Do you want that?”
Zac swallows hard. “I—I...”
Cal is charmed. He leans in, kisses Zac’s temple, his cheek, his throat. He can feel Zac’s heart racing beneath his lips. “We don’t have to. But it’s okay if you want to. Do you want it?”
Zac’s eyes fall closed. He manages to nod. His lips brush the base of Cal’s wrist as he does so, and it makes Cal’s whole body tighten.
“Now?” Cal asks, and Zac nods again, so Cal draws him to the bed.
Unlike in the studio, Cal takes his time with Zac here.
It turns out he has all the time he could want.
He searches out the sensitive spots on Zac’s body, nuzzling at his sides, licking his collarbones, biting gently at his nipples. He mouths every crease and bend, the vulnerable hollows of his elbows, throat and knees. He buries his face against Zac’s long, strong thighs, breathes deep. He’s seen so much of Zac in bed, and touched him, certainly, but never like this, with the freedom to do as he likes because he knows Zac wants him to.
Cal’s painfully hard already, need thrumming through him, but he tells himself to calm down. He doesn’t want to take even the smallest risk of hurting Zac by rushing.
Anya appears beside him, opening the bottom drawer in the nightstand and pulling a big flesh-toned dildo out of a box tucked inside. When Cal raises an eyebrow, she smirks.
“For when you’re finished. He can never quite get enough,” she says, and Zac moans in embarrassment and turns his face deeper into the pillow. It’s the sweetest thing Cal’s ever seen, but it makes him angry too. Someone made Zac feel bad about liking this once. Or at least Zac got the idea somewhere that this is dirty or wrong. Cal makes a silent promise that he’ll never let Zac feel anything but safe and clean when he’s in Cal’s hands this way.
“It’s okay.” He whispers the words against Zac’s throat, presses hot, wet kisses against the skin until Zac’s shivering. “It’s okay to like it. I won’t hurt you. I won’t make fun of you.”
“God,” Zac groans, eyes squeezed closed. “Stop talking. Just...just do it.”
His belly trembles under Cal’s touch, and Cal wants to bundle him up and take care of him forever. Cal gets distracted by those trembles for a minute, touching that lean muscle, sucking bruises over freckles, testing one of those perfect hipbones with his teeth.
Anya slides onto the bed. She’s wearing the harness but hasn’t attached the dildo yet. She looks like a dominatrix with all those black straps around her hips. It’s a really good look on her. She lies on her side and props her head up on one arm as she watches. Her gaze is warm. She likes the sight of them together. Cal’s relieved. He’s been worried she might feel excluded, but he can see that’s not the case.
Finally Cal sits up, kneeling between Zac’s spread thighs, only to realize that he’s not quite sure what to do next. He’s never done this before, and that pink circle of flesh between Zac’s cheeks looks very vulnerable and small all of a sudden. He’s terrified he’ll hurt him.
Anya holds out a tube of lube. “Better too much than not enough. Slow, steady pressure.”
Cal follows her directions, liking how low and rough her voice gets as she watches them, and she even reaches out once, guiding his hand to help him find the right angle. When he does, Zac sounds—oh, he sounds like he might cry. For a second Cal’s scared that he’s done something wrong, but Anya gives Cal the most wonderful smile, quiet and happy and proud, like she’s pleased to be sharing Zac with Cal because she knew Cal would take care of him the way he deserves to be taken care of. I will, Cal wants to promise her. I’ll take care of him always.
He draws it out as long as he can, working his way up until Zac can take four fingers, until Zac’s arching beneath him, half-wild. His hands scramble at the sheets. He hasn’t said an unprompted word this whole time, hasn’t touched Cal once. He won’t look at Cal, keeps his head turned to the side, even as small, helpless moans escape.
By the time Cal’s stroking lube over his dick, Zac’s completely gone, every inch of him desperate and needy and straining. Even after taking so long to open him up, it’s not easy to slide inside him, and Zac is panting for air, his spine going rigid.
“Holy God,” Zac whispers. His hand fumbles for Cal’s. “I don’t—I can’t—”
Cal freezes, even as his pulse throbs with the urge to thrust, to take, to fuck. It’s overwhelming, Zac lean and taut beneath him, knees clutching at Cal’s sides, chest heaving, sweat nestled in the hollow of his throat. “Do you want me to stop?”
It takes an age for Zac’s tense muscles to begin to unlock. “Go ahead.”
“I can wait. Take as much time as you need.”
Zac shudders under him, his hands clutching tighter. “Don’t make me beg for it.”
“Never. Don’t you know I’d give you anything, Zac?”
“Stop trying to make love to me, you nerd.” Zac laughs, a thin, desperate sound, but his fingers tighten on Cal’s. “C’mon. Do it.”
Anya’s hand on his hip helps him find the right angle again, and Zac gets quieter and quieter and quieter as Cal moves, as Cal tries to hold on, and it’s so good, it’s so damn good, Zac’s hot and tight and wet inside, clinging to Cal like a limpet now, his head thrown back, and Cal’s whole body aches to come, but he can’t, he won’t, not until Zac—
Anya reaches over, slides her hand around Zac’s cock, and Zac comes with a long sob of a sigh, his legs tightening briefly around Cal’s hips before going limp. Cal can’t hold on through that, thinks he’s never seen anything hotter than Zac giving it all up like that, so shy and lost and perfect, and he comes too, only a few strokes later, holding on to Zac tight enough that he hopes there won’t be bruises later.
After, Cal slumps onto the mattress, out of breath and rocked to his foundations. Zac presses his face against Cal’s chest, sweetly needing, and Cal holds him tight, finding his temple with his lips. He only pulls back when Zac’s body curves, his mouth going still as Anya slides inside him, the soft hum of a vibrator starting up. Cal will have to take a look at the strap-on stuff later, because he has no idea what’s going on over there, but whatever it is has her flushing rosy, those big blue eyes going heavy-lidded.
She’s had practice, that much is clear—this isn’t the second or third or even the tenth time they’ve done this. She knows exactly what to do, knows exactly where to cup Zac’s knee to get him to lift his hips, knows exactly how to press his thighs open to make it good for him. She’s rougher than Cal was. Zac’s breathing takes on a sharp, scraping edge, his head rolling back and forth on the pillow. He’s getting hard again already because of Anya inside him, and Cal has to kiss him again, kiss him for long minutes. Anya slows down, dragging it out, giving Zac time to recover, and she comes at some point in there, slumping down for a minute to recover before she keeps going, straightening and putting her back into it.