Though Jeremy stayed quiet throughout the process, Reg knew he was enjoying the attention because his dick had been hard from the first touch, and by the end, it was curving up toward his belly button. With the water flowing around them it was hard to tell, but Reg was pretty sure the drops seeping from Jeremy’s slit were precum, not water, and he longed for a taste.
“Bikini line next,” Reg said hoarsely and tried to ignore his own throbbing shaft. “Spread your legs.”
Jeremy moved his left leg to the side, exposing himself more fully. “Don’t cut me, okay?”
“I won’t. Promise.” Reg spread the shaving gel over the area, rinsed his hand, and said, “But I’ll cup you just to make sure.” Without waiting for a reaction, he placed his palm over Jeremy’s balls and shaft, covering them.
“Ah!” Jeremy cried out. “Reg, I don’t think—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Reg cooed. “I have you.”
Slowly, methodically, he shaved the area free of hair and then did the same to the other side. By the time Reg was completely done, Jeremy’s chest was heaving, his nostrils were flared, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists.
“You should probably go so I can, uh, I need to—” He gulped. “I—”
“You’re hard,” Reg rasped as he set the shaving supplies on the edge of the tub and rose to his feet. “I can feel.” Reg stepped forward until he was close enough that Jeremy had to tip his chin back to meet his gaze. Though he was done doing his job and no longer had an excuse, if anyone could call his flimsy rationale for touching Jeremy an excuse, he took Jeremy’s shaft in hand anyway. “I can help you out with this, JJ.” He gazed into Jeremy’s eyes and hid nothing. “Do you want me to help you?”
Trembling, Jeremy looked at him, his gaze searching, questioning.
“We can talk later, okay? Everything will be fine, I promise. But right now you need to let go.” He stroked up Jeremy’s shaft. “And I want to give this to you.” Bending forward so he could inhale Jeremy’s scent, Reg kissed his shoulder. “Let me.” He swallowed hard. “Please let me.”
“Yes,” Jeremy said, the word barely audible. He raised his arms and clutched Reg’s waist. “Please.”
In no time, Reg was scrambling for the body wash and drizzling it on Jeremy’s shaft. Then he gripped it, not too tightly, but not loosely either, and started stroking with one hand while he cupped and fondled Jeremy’s balls with the other.
“Reg,” Jeremy moaned.
“That’s it. Let yourself enjoy it.”
“I do.” Jeremy’s breathing quickened. “I’ve never liked… not like this, not like with you.” He dug his fingers into Reg’s sides. “Why is that?”
“Because this is right.” Reg twisted his hand at Jeremy’s crown, making him cry out. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”
There wasn’t time for more explanations because Jeremy rose onto his tiptoes, threw his head back, and screamed Reg’s name as he came.
Excited beyond belief at the sight in front of him and the feel of Jeremy’s hot seed spilling over his fingers, Reg breathlessly said, “Will it freak you out if I jack off, JJ?” His entire body shook. “I’m really close.”
“Do it,” Jeremy said, his gaze glued to Reg’s groin. “I want to see.”
Making sure not to let the water wash Jeremy’s ejaculate off his fingers, Reg smeared it onto his dick. “Using your cum for lube,” he explained.
“God,” Jeremy gasped. “Yeah.”
It didn’t take long, not with as turned on as Reg was, not with Jeremy looking at him with heated eyes and running his long-fingered hands up and down Reg’s chest. “JJ,” Reg said reverently. “Fuck, yes, JJ.” With one last pull, he shot hard, coating his hand and stomach.
Jeremy held on to him through it, watching, touching, and when Reg was finally spent, Jeremy blinked up at him and said, “Reg?”
Reg slid his arms around Jeremy’s waist, cupped his backside, and tugged him close. “Yes?”
“I think maybe I’m not straight after all,” he said, his expression earnest.
Reg tilted the corners of his mouth up. “I think maybe you’re right.”
Chapter 13
AFTER THEY’D finished the most erotic shower—most erotic anything—of Jeremy’s life, Reg had insisted they table any conversation and go have fun. Though he hadn’t thought it would be possible, Jeremy had managed to do just that. Somehow he had shut his brain down and gone along with Reg from bar to bar, laughing, dancing, and drinking.
Remarkably, Reg wasn’t the only person who had come up with the idea of a shirtless costume. In fact, there were lots of guys who seemed to think merely taking off their shirts meant they were in costume. No capes or masks or any indications of a character, just seminudity.
New awareness of his feelings made Jeremy wonder whether the fact that he could appreciate those exposed male forms meant he was gay. He assumed if the appreciation gave him tingles below the belt—the thick, yellow, faux-patent-leather belt with a black bat emblem—the answer was probably yes. Regardless, any appreciation he had for the strangers he saw that night was exponentially dwarfed by his appreciation for the man at his side.