Jarheads

Rig rolled his shoulders, sighed. "Rock, what are you getting the kid this year?" He didn't have any fucking ideas.

"Huh? Like for Christmas?"

"Uh-huh. You know -- big holiday, lights, tree?"

"I know what fucking Christmas is. We could go in together."

"Sure. On what? I can't think of a damn thing." He rolled his shoulders again. Tense. Damn.

"I'm counting on you for the brilliant ideas." Rock's hands landed on his shoulders, fingers digging in.

"Oh." His knees buckled, eyes crossing.

"Shit, Rig, you're tight."

Rock was Mr. Obvious tonight, but as long as he kept doing what he was doing, Rig would go with it. "Uh-huh. Don't stop."

"That's what you always say."

Rig chuckled. "It's what I always mean."

"Usually what I'm doing is more fun, though." Rock kissed the side of his neck.

That made him shiver. "Hmm?" Yum.

"Usually I'm fucking you when you say it." More kisses slid over his skin, Rock's tongue hot.

"Uh-huh." He spread, the offer easy, simple. Heartfelt.

Groaning, Rock rubbed a hand along the seam of his jeans, rubbing it against his crack.

Oh, hell yes.

Hell yes.

He leaned forward, letting Rock have every inch.

"These need to come off." Rock sounded sure. Very sure.

He chuckled, grinned. "You think so?"

"I know so. Can't fuck you through them."

"What if I'm not horny? What if I have pre-holiday frigidity?" Rig couldn't hold in his laughter.

"What the fuck is pre-holiday frigidity?"

"Fuck if I know."

Rock snorted, chuckled, and started picking at the button on the front of his jeans. He sucked in, let Rock unbutton him. They could talk presents later. Maybe.

Rock's fingers pushed into his jeans, forcing the zipper down as Rock wrapped that big hand around his prick.

Oh, yeah.

Later.

For sure.