He came with a groan, grinding his crotch into Miles’s face and spilling deep into Miles’s throat. His orgasm seemed to stretch into forever, his body and voice out of control. It didn’t help that Miles kept sucking, as if he expected him to come a second time.
When Ian managed to open his eyes, he found Miles between his legs, his cheek pressed against Ian’s oversensitive cock. Miles still looked overwhelmed, his eyes closed and his breathing unsteady.
“Was I too rough?” Ian said with a grimace, brushing his thumb against his cheek.
Miles opened his eyes—and Christ. They looked completely gone, glassy and full of lust. Miles had actually loved what Ian did to him.
His stomach clenching, Ian threaded his fingers through Miles’s hair, watching as Miles’s eyes cleared, little by little.
“All right?” Ian said.
Miles brows furrowed thoughtfully, as if he was evaluating his own mental state, before a small, crooked smile appeared on his face. He nodded, his gaze dropping before darting back to Ian’s. “So, was it better than mediocre?” he said. At least Ian guessed that was what he said. His voice was half-gone, hoarse and barely recognizable.
Miles’s eyes widened. He glared at Ian and cleared his throat a few times.
Ian laughed. “Sorry,” he said, tucking himself back and zipping up. “I’ll tell Winifred to get you something for your sore throat.”
“Don’t you dare!” Miles hissed, blushing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you got your throat fucked up by sucking my cock. I’m not suicidal. She will have my balls for this. She’s taken a real shine to you.”
Miles got to his feet, adjusting himself. “I’ll go take care of this,” he said, almost defiantly.
“You don’t have to go,” Ian said, returning his gaze to the TV. He patted the place beside him. “Take a seat and finish off. That doesn’t look remotely comfortable.”
He half-expected Miles to leave anyway, but he seemed really determined to act as if what they’d done was perfectly normal and nothing to be embarrassed about. Ian hid his smile as Miles flopped down beside him and fumbled with his zipper.
Ian kept his gaze on the TV as Miles jerked off beside him.
Or tried to.
After a while, Ian heaved a sigh and said, “Relax, Miles.”
“I can’t,” Miles said, his frustration clear in his voice. “I want to get off, but I’m too… something.”
“You’re too worked up,” Ian said. “You’ve hit the plateau and can’t relax enough to come.”
Miles grunted in affirmative.
Ian wondered for a moment if he really should do it before laying an arm on the back of the couch behind Miles’s head and looking at him. “Come here.”
Miles dropped his gaze before shooting Ian a look that somehow managed to be both shy and eager.
It did strange things to Ian’s insides.
He pulled Miles toward him and arranged them so the young man was snuggled up against him cozily, his head on Ian’s chest.
“Go ahead,” Ian said when he felt Miles relax into him. “Touch yourself,” he murmured into Miles’s ear.
He felt him shiver. Then, Miles slipped his hand down and wrapped it around his erection.
Ian didn’t look. He held him loosely against him as Miles touched himself.
It felt strangely not strange at all. Distantly, Ian was aware how inappropriate what they were doing was. They were in a semi-public movie room. Despite the late hour, there were at least a few maids still working. Any of them might enter the room and see him holding his son’s male nanny in his arms as the latter jerked off.
Ian found it hard to care. This felt weirdly natural: the way this ridiculous boy fit in his arms, the way he smelled, the way his breathing hitched when he stroked himself just right.
The closer to the edge Miles got, the closer to Ian he squirmed until his one leg was thrown over Ian’s and he was gasping into Ian’s neck. “Tighter,” Miles demanded breathlessly, and Ian obliged, tightening his arm around him harder and harder. He was sure it must have hurt, but Miles moaned and came, shuddering against him.
“This is the second shirt you’ve ruined,” Ian commented mildly when Miles’s breathing evened out.
“I’m sure you have more,” Miles muttered, sounding completely out of it. He showed no inclination to move away, still snuggled up to Ian, all sweet and soft.
After a while, he yawned, blinked at Ian owlishly before lifting himself and planting a chaste, affectionate kiss on Ian’s cheek. “Thanks.”
Ian’s insides felt decidedly strange.
He cleared his throat a little and gently moved him off his lap.
Miles stared at him in a way that could only be described as longingly.
Ian wanted to feel weirded out or annoyed about it, but he couldn’t summon either feeling. Maybe he would, later. But at that moment, all he could feel was contentment.
“You’re welcome,” he said, not without amusement and got to his feet. “I’m beat. Put the movie on pause and go to sleep, too. We’ll finish watching it tomorrow.”