Chapter 6: The Bedroom Door
Stefan led him past the small living room, past the kitchen doorway, into the bedroom at the end of the hall. The bed was unmade, sheets tangled from a night of restless sleep, and he felt a flash of embarrassment. Diego didn't seem to care. He walked in like he belonged there, hands sliding up Stefan's chest, over his shoulders, settling warm on either side of his neck.
"You still with me?" Diego asked.
"Yeah." Stefan's voice cracked. "Fuck, yes."
Diego kissed him again, slower this time, one hand slipping down to the hem of Stefan's tank top. He pulled it up, and Stefan lifted his arms without thinking. The air hit his chest, cool and sensitive. Diego looked at him, really looked, and something in Stefan's stomach turned over, too much and not enough.
"Can I touch you?" Diego asked.
"Yes. Please."
Diego's palm flattened over Stefan's sternum, dragging down through the dusting of hair, over the hard ridges of his abs, thumb circling his navel. Stefan's breath came short. Then Diego guided him back, hands gentle but firm, and Stefan let himself tip onto the bed, the sheets cool against his bare back.
Diego pulled his own shirt off, tossing it beside the bed. He climbed over Stefan then, heavy and warm, and lowered his mouth to Stefan's chest. A slow kiss at the collarbone. A drag of tongue across a nipple that made Stefan's hips buck. Diego hummed against his skin, working lower, teeth grazing a rib, lips pressing into the tender hollow just under his sternum.
Stefan's fingers found Diego's hair, thick and dark, and tangled there. He held on like anchor. Like prayer. Diego's stubble rasped his belly, and Stefan's whole body trembled with it.
"Okay?" Diego murmured against his skin.
"Fuck yeah!" Stefan said. "Don't stop."
Diego's hands slid to his waistband, and his mouth followed the trail of hair lower, heading toward the waistband. His fingers hooked the elastic, and he looked up, dark eyes waiting for one last permission.
"Yes," Stefan breathed, before the question could form. "Fuck, Diego. Yes."
His answer was still hanging in the air when Diego tugged. The shorts came down over Stefan's hips, over his thighs, the fabric dragging against his eager cock. Diego pulled them off entirely and tossed them aside, and then he was there, hands on Stefan's naked thighs, pushing them gently apart.
The air hit Stefan's skin and he shivered, his dick jumping against his belly. Diego ran a palm up the inside of his thigh, slow, deliberate, and Stefan's breath caught at the touch. Then Diego lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the tender skin at the base of his shaft, just above his balls.
"Fuck," Stefan breathed.
Diego's stubble rasped against his inner thigh. His mouth trailed lower, pressing into the crease, and Stefan's hips lifted on instinct. Diego's hands held him down, firm on his hips.
"Easy," Diego murmured, his breath hot against Stefan's skin. "Let me take care of this."
Stefan nodded, gripping the sheets beneath him. Diego's tongue traced a slow line up the length of his cock, from base to tip, and Stefan saw stars. Diego licked his lips, his dark eyes fixed on Stefan's face, and then he opened his mouth and took him in.
The heat was overwhelming. Diego's lips sealed around the head, tongue circling, and Stefan's whole body arched off the bed. He let out a ragged groan, fingers finding Diego's hair again, holding on.
"Jesus," Stefan gasped. "Fuck, Diego."
Diego took him deeper, one hand working the base, the other pressing flat against Stefan's stomach. His pace was unhurried, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world in this bedroom. Every slow drag of his mouth pulled a sound from Stefan he'd never heard himself make before.
"You like that?" Diego asked, pulling off just long enough to speak, his lips wet and swollen.
"Yes," Stefan choked out. "God, don't stop."
Diego grinned and swallowed him down again, and Stefan's head fell back against the pillow, his whole world narrowed to the warm, wet suction of Diego's mouth and the quiet sounds of his own pleasure filling the room.
Diego slowed, pulling off with a wet sound, his lips slick and swollen. He looked up at Stefan through dark lashes, thumb stroking the slick head of Stefan's cock. The stillness between them felt charged.
Stefan's chest heaved. He pushed himself up on his elbows, then sat fully, the sheets pooling around his hips. His hand moved without permission, palm flat on Diego's hairy belly, feeling the heat of him, the muscle tensing under all that dark fur.
"What about you?" Stefan asked.
Diego laughed, low and surprised. "What?"
Stefan's fingers traced lower, through the coarse trail of hair, finding the thick bulge straining against Diego's gym shorts. He cupped it, squeezed gently, felt the weight of him and the way Diego's breath hitched.
"You've been working on me ," Stefan said. "My turn, now."
Diego's eyes went dark. He watched Stefan's hand work him through the fabric, and a slow grin spread across his face.
"Fuck, that feels good." Diego's voice was rough. "You sure?"
Stefan answered by pushing Diego onto his back him and moving to straddle his legs. He pulled the gym shorts down, and Diego's cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the head flushed dark against his hairy belly. Stefan wrapped his hand around it, felt the heat, the pulse, the way Diego's whole body shuddered at the touch. He cupped his balls, squeezing gently.
"Fuck."
"Christ," Diego breathed.
Stefan stroked him slow, feeling the texture, the shape, the weight of another man's cock. This man. Diego. Diego's cock, now in his hand, under his control.