Chapter 7: The Taste of Him
Stefan's hand moved slow along the length of Diego's cock, learning the heat, the weight, the way it pulsed against his palm. There was a musk rising off the man's skin, sharp and salty, and the scent filled his head like something he'd been craving without knowing it. He looked down at Diego, face open, chest rising and falling beneath its dark mat of hair, and then he lowered his head.
The first touch of his lips was uncertain. He pressed a kiss to the side of the shaft, then the head, tasting the slick salt of the pre-cum gathered there. Diego's hand settled on the back of his skull, gentle, steady, the contact alone communicating his patience and his desire.
Stefan opened his mouth and took the head in. The weight of it was foreign, a strange new intimacy; the heat of it made his own cock throb. He tried to go deeper, but his jaw resisted, the tip nudging his palate.
"Am I doing okay?" Stefan asked, pulling off just enough to speak. A strand of spit and pre-cum connected them, glistening.
"Fuck, yes, you're doing incredible."
Diego's hand stayed on his head, not pushing. Just there, offering guidance. Stefan took a breath and tried again. He wrapped his hand around the base, so his grip found the length his mouth couldn't accommodate, and he began to move. A clumsy rhythm at first, a lost beat, then Diego's low groan told him he'd found something right. He licked the ridge under the head, and Diego's hips bucked involuntarily, the flex of his thighs pressing against Stefan's chest. As he registered the sounds this man was making, sounds caused by him, his own confidence returned. He sped up, bobbing harder, sucking with intent, wanting to hear more of those sounds.
Diego arched beneath him, hands gripping the sheets. "Christ, Stefan. Where the hell did you learn that?"
Stefan pulled off, mouth slick, a string of spit connecting his tongue to Diego's cock. He looked up at him, breathless, his eyes sparkling. "Porn," and they both laughed.
"You want me to keep going?"
Diego laughed, rough and broken. "Fuck, yes."
Stefan's hand tightened around the base of Diego's cock, stroking slow as he looked up with spit-slick lips.
"Before you keep going," Diego said, voice rough and low, "I want you to know something."
Stefan waited, thumb circling the head.
"I'm going to cum." Diego's chest rose and fell, dark hair matted with sweat. "And if your mouth is on me when I do, I want you to swallow. You don't have to, but I want you to."
Stefan's throat tightened. The thought of it sent a pulse straight to his own cock, heavy and aching where it pressed against the sheet.
"I'll swallow," Stefan said. "Every drop."
Diego let out a shaky breath. "Fuck. That's all I needed."
Stefan lowered his head again, taking him back into the wet heat of his mouth. He found the rhythm faster this time, the earlier clumsiness gone, replaced by intent. His hand worked the base in counterpoint, twisting on each upward stroke, and Diego's groan came deep from his chest.
"That's it," Diego breathed. "Just like that."
Stefan sucked harder, hollowing his cheeks, tongue tracing the thick vein along the underside. Diego's hand tightened in his hair, not pushing, just holding, grounding them both. The scent of him filled Stefan's head, salt and musk and skin, and he wanted more. He took him deeper, jaw aching, spit running down his chin.
"Stefan. Wait. Fuck, wait."
Diego's hand tugged gently at his hair. Stefan paused, pulled off, lips swollen and slick.
Diego eased back on the bed, shifting his hips, and hooked a hand under Stefan's arm. "Come here. Up here. I want you in my mouth too."
Stefan blinked, heart slamming, then understood. He crawled up Diego's body, knees on either side of his shoulders, and the heat of Diego's breath hit his own aching cock a second before Diego's mouth closed over him.
"Oh, fuck," Stefan gasped, head falling forward.
He gripped Diego's thighs for balance and lowered himself, taking Diego back into his throat. The two of them moved together, a shared rhythm, each man's cock in warm, wet surrender.
The 69 was a tangle of limbs and heat, both of them lost in the slick rhythm. Then Diego's hands clamped around Stefan's waist, and with one smooth roll of his hips he flipped them.
Diego loomed over him, chest heaving, sweat glistening in the dark hair. His thighs pinned Stefan's head, his weight a warm, hairy prison.
"You ok with this?" Diego asked, voice rough.
Stefan just gripped Diego's thighs and pulled him and his cock back into his mouth. Not long after, Diego again pulled off Stefan's cock and flipped himself around, face to face with the man laying on his back. He again pinned him to the bed with his chest, the hair tickling Stefan's nipples. Holding Stefan's head in both hands, he kissed him full on the lips. Both men tasted themselves on the other's tongue. When they broke apart, Diego's mouth began to trail lower, down his throat, over his chest, tongue tracing the line of hair down his belly.
"Where are you going?" Stefan asked, breathless.
"Making you cum," Diego said against his stomach. "I want to taste your cum, Stefan. I want to feel you fight it, and lose, and then I want to swallow you like you were going to swallow me."
Stefan's head fell back, a moan escaping him. Diego's big hands pushed his thighs apart, spreading him open on the rumpled sheets. The cool air hit his wet cock, and then Diego's mouth descended, hot and hungry.
"No more trade-off," Diego breathed, lips brushing the head. "No more counting turns. Right now, it's just you. You're going to lie there and let me make you feel so good you forget your own name. How does that sound?"
Stefan's whole body trembled. "Fuck, yeah."
Diego smiled and opened his mouth wide.