“Happy Christmas,” Devan said.
“Happy Christmas. Guess what?”
“What?”
“I love you.”
Devan sucked in a breath.
“You know I do, even though I haven’t said it,” Jonty whispered. “You brought me to meet your family. You stood up for me against them. How could I not love you? I love you when you yell at me when I’m driving. I love you when you complain about me eating all the peanut butter. I love you when—”
“Is this going to be a list of all the things you do that annoy me?”
“It might be.”
“That’s going to take ages and we do need to go downstairs at some point. What about telling me the good things that make you love me?”
“I’m saving those for another day.” Jonty cleared his throat. “I love you when you get all huffy about me listening to Coldplay. I love—”
“Are you going to freak out if I kiss you before you’ve cleaned your teeth?”
“Not if you’ve not cleaned yours.”
Devan had, but he pulled him close, pressed the rigid length of his cock against Jonty’s thigh and tongue-fucked his mouth in time with the rocking of his hips. Jonty wrapped his arms around him and moaned “Liar,” into his mouth.
Slow down! Devan pulled back and nibbled at Jonty’s lips, brushing his tongue back and forth over them, trying to stay calm.
“I’ve got…a present…to give you,” Devan mumbled between kisses.
“It’s the gift that keeps on giving and giving.” Jonty slid a hand down to Devan’s cock and Devan jerked away.
“Not that.”
Jonty’s eyes widened. “Are you feeling okay? Oh God, have I broken you already? We could buy some of those little blue pills if—”
“What do you think that was pressing against your thigh?”
“Your finger? You have big fingers.”
Devan laughed, reached for the present and handed it to Jonty.
“Are we opening gifts now? Just when I was about to get lucky and you were about to get even luckier?”
“Some, but this one first.”
Jonty scooted up the bed, leaned back against the headboard and carefully opened the paper. “I don’t want to rip this sexy paper. We can use it for your mother’s present next year.”
Devan’s heart was banging against his ribs.
“On the twenty-fifth day of Christmas…” Jonty sang the words on the card that Devan had written. “My true love gave to me… One ribbed-for-his-pleasure condom… Hmm, only one? Two sachets of wickedly sensual lubricant. Three photos of…” Jonty gulped. “Is that your bum?”
“You can’t tell? I’m very offended.”
Devan watched and waited as Jonty worked it out.
“Are you sure?” Jonty’s voice cracked as he spoke.
“I did think about adding four festive sex aids to the card and putting furry handcuffs, ball gag, spreader bar and nipple clamps into the package, in case I panic.”
“Nipple clamps?”
“The pain will distract me. You taught me that, oh wise one.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Devan stroked his cheek. “You won’t.”
“Oh God. You want to do this in your parents’ house? What if you scream? Fuck it, you will scream. If you don’t, I’ll be so disappointed. I want you to scream More, Jonty. Deeper, harder, faster. Ooh, you sexy stallion. Ream my arse!”
Devan laughed. “I’ll bite the pillow.”
“You do remember that I’ve never topped before. I did tell you, didn’t I?”
“You also told me that you wanted to.”
Jonty threw himself on top of him and kissed him. “You’re going to let me be in charge?”
“Yes.”
“All day?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“For the next two minutes? Well…one?”
Devan chuckled. Jonty’s lips slid from Devan’s mouth to his neck and Devan gulped air into starved lungs. Their cocks rubbed together, precome flowing. Jonty wasn’t doing anything to him that he hadn’t done before but knowing he was soon going to was enough for desire to flood Devan’s veins along with a large helping of anxiety. Jonty slowly kissed his way down Devan’s body, pinching his nipples with his lips and fingers, licking his ribs, fluttering his tongue around his navel, then breathing on his cock.
“Open your legs, you sexy beast,” Jonty whispered.
“I would if I could.”
“Does your dad have a spreader clamp in his garage?” Jonty pushed at Devan’s thighs until rigid muscles finally surrendered to his mental pleas.
“Make a note,” Jonty said. “Devan is afraid of spreader clamps.”
When Jonty’s finger brushed over his hole, Devan gave a strangled moan.
“Have you been playing with yourself?” Jonty whispered. “Getting ready for my monster cock.”
“Yes. Don’t fucking talk about monster cocks.”
Jonty laughed. He pushed Devan’s legs further apart and settled between them. “Do you mind how long this lasts?”
“Jonty! Just shut up and do it. No tongue, though it kills me to say it, but I need you inside me. Not your fingers. I’ve done that bit. Used plenty of lube. I’ve used so much you’ll probably slide straight in and hit my appendix. And yes, I know that’s not possible. I see now why nerves make you chatter. It’s catching.”
Jonty smiled.
“I want to feel you inside me,” Devan whispered.
“Are we doing dirty talk now? You don’t usually.”
“That’s because you don’t let me get a word in edgeways. Please. Before I freak out and call for my mum to come and save me.”
“Next time, I get to be in charge, right?”
“You’re assuming there’ll be a next time.”
“You’re going to be so impressed; you’ll be begging me to fill you with my love stick.” Jonty grinned.
“Is that the best you can do?”
“My pleasure spear? Mr Vlad the Impaler? My cock-a-doodle-doo?”
“Stop. Please.”
Devan watched as Jonty rolled on the condom, ripped open the lube and trickled it onto the tip of his dick. They both watched it roll down the sides of the condom.
Jonty shivered. “Like icing a cake.”
“It’s nothing like icing a cake.”
“Have you ever iced a cake?”
“Jonty?”
“Mmm?”
“Shut up about cakes.”
“Okay. Obviously, I can’t touch myself and you can’t touch me anywhere. It would be like setting off a short-fused firework. We have to wait for the icing—oops—wickedly sensual lubricant to spread. Tease me with the beauty of maths and that might delay the inevitable.”
“What’s the square root of 361?”
“Er…Fourteen?”
“No.”
“Sixteen?”
“No.”
“Seventeen?”
“No.”
“Nineteen?”
“Yes.”