Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

ato-the-bean:

From my new Birthday Fic for rabidchild67, “What Spring Does…”

“Are you reading porn?”

“What?” Chris asks, lowering his book and looking up at Zach. “No. It’s poetry.”

Of course it is. Chris has an intimate relationship with
words, after all. This shouldn’t be surprising. “You’re hard. And you’re
fondling yourself. Which has me hard.”

Chris raises his eyebrows.

“You’re not reading?”

“Oh, I am. Just… not my book.” Zach takes a deep breath and eyes the
way the fabric of Chris’ shirt drags as his fingers move against it.
“You’re not allowed to use this anymore,” he adds, taking the offending
hand a pulling it across his lap, over Chris’ head. “Keep reading if you
want to, but I’ll be the one fondling you.”

Chris doesn’t resist his right hand being pinned over his head, and
he seems torn between finishing the page he’s on and focusing on Zach,
at least until Zach’s right hand drops to that spot Chris had been
worrying on his thigh and starts scratching circles of his own.

Chris’ reaction is almost violent. He nearly jackknifes at the touch,
and then his book falls and his hand drops to his chest, and he squirms
his legs open to grant Zach more access.

“My, you are wound up. You sure it’s just poetry?”

Chris’ eyes have fallen shut. “Neruda.”

“Ah, emotional porn in sensual language. No wonder you’re hard.”