Inside

Eli didn’t remember falling asleep.

One minute he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, still feeling the ache of Adrian inside him, and the next the room was darker and quieter. His body had given out. Exhaustion pulled him under hard.

When he woke again, it was to the feeling of a hand on his bare hip.

Eli’s eyes opened. The apartment was still dark. Only a thin line of light came through the curtains. He was on his side, facing the wall, and someone was pressed along his back — solid, warm, unmistakably still there.

Adrian.

“You’re awake,” Adrian muttered near his ear. His voice was rough with the middle of the night. “Took you long enough.”

Eli tried to move forward. Adrian’s arm tightened around his waist and pulled him back against his chest.

“Don’t.”

“You were supposed to leave,” Eli said, voice hoarse from sleep.

“I told you I wasn’t.”

Adrian’s hand slid lower, over Eli’s stomach, then down between his legs. Eli was only wearing underwear. Adrian pushed his palm against him through the fabric, slow and deliberate, and Eli’s breath caught before he could stop it.

“Adrian—”

“Quiet.” Adrian’s mouth brushed the back of his neck. “I’ve been lying here thinking about how you felt around my cock. Got hard again just from remembering it.”

His hand slipped inside Eli’s underwear. Cooler fingers wrapped around him, stroking once, twice. Eli’s hips twitched despite himself.

“Stop.”

“You don’t sound like you want me to stop.” Adrian’s grip tightened just enough to make Eli inhale sharply. “You’re already getting hard for me.”

“That’s not—”

“It is.”

Adrian stroked him slowly, taking his time, while his other arm kept Eli locked against his chest. Eli’s breathing changed. He hated how fast his body responded, hated the heat building low in his stomach under those unhurried strokes.

Then Adrian’s hand moved lower.

Two fingers slid between Eli’s cheeks and pressed against him. Eli tensed.

“Adrian—”

“Relax.” Adrian’s voice stayed low and close to his ear. “I’m not rushing this time.”

He rubbed slow circles there, then pushed one finger inside. Eli made a tight sound in his throat. Adrian worked the finger in and out carefully, then added a second, stretching him open with patient, steady movements. The angle made it feel deeper than it should have.

“Fuck,” Eli whispered.

“Yeah.” Adrian curled his fingers and searched until Eli’s whole body jerked. “There it is.”

He rubbed that spot deliberately while his other hand stroked Eli’s cock again. The dual sensation forced another broken sound out of Eli. His hips moved without permission — pushing back onto Adrian’s fingers, then forward into his fist.

“Listen to you,” Adrian muttered. “Acting like you don’t want this while you’re fucking yourself on my hand.”

“Shut up—”

“Make me.”

Adrian pushed a third finger inside and kept working him open, slow and thorough, until Eli was shaking and leaking against his palm. Every time Eli got close, Adrian eased off just enough to keep him from coming.

“Adrian—please—”

“Please what?”

“You know what.”

“Say it.”

Eli’s forehead pressed against the pillow. “Let me come.”

“Not yet.”

Adrian pulled his fingers out. Eli made a frustrated sound at the loss. Behind him came the quiet tear of a condom wrapper and the sound of Adrian stroking himself once. Then the thick head of his cock pressed against Eli’s entrance.

“Breathe.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated. Both of them groaned. Adrian stayed still for a second, buried deep, one hand gripping Eli’s hip hard.

“Shit,” Adrian said against his neck. “Still so fucking tight.”

He started moving. Deep, steady thrusts that filled Eli completely. The angle from behind made every stroke drag against the sensitive place inside him. Eli’s hands fisted in the sheets as soft, helpless sounds were pulled out of him with every movement.

“Faster,” Eli heard himself say.

Adrian huffed a dark breath and gave it to him faster. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the quiet apartment. His hand slid back around to stroke Eli’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“You feel better than I thought you would,” Adrian muttered. “Should’ve followed you home weeks ago.”

“Don’t—talk—”

“I’ll talk as much as I want while I’m inside you.”

He fucked him harder, stroking him firmly, until Eli was trembling and close again.

“Adrian—I’m gonna—”

“Come,” Adrian ordered. “Do it. Come on my cock.”

Eli came hard with a broken cry, clenching around him, spilling over Adrian’s fist and the sheets. Adrian kept thrusting through it, chasing his own release, then buried himself deep and came with a low, guttural sound, hips pressed tight against Eli’s ass.

For a long time afterward, neither of them moved.

Adrian stayed inside him, breathing heavily against the back of his neck, arm locked around his waist. When he finally pulled out, he dealt with the condom and dropped back down behind Eli, pulling him close again like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Eli stared at the wall, body aching, pulse still uneven.

“You’re still not leaving,” he said quietly.

Adrian’s mouth brushed his shoulder.

“No,” he said. “I’m not.”

His hand settled possessively on Eli’s bare stomach.

“Go back to sleep, pretty boy. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Eli didn’t answer.

But he didn’t try to push him away either.