Pran starts counting off the reasons on his fingers. “My mother is across the hall. Your mother is basically across the hall. Your sister could come into your room and see us through the window. And, I don’t care what your dick is doing.”
A fatal lie. Pat snatches Pran’s raised arm by the wrist and drags his hand, palm turned up, inexorably forward until it rests firmly on Pat’s crotch.
“You care.” Holding Pran still, Pat’s other hand lifts and then lands between Pran’s legs, cupping him softly even as he presses Pran’s hand down firmly against his—yes, definite erection. “You know how I can tell you care?”
See, it’s not Pran’s fault that he’s getting hard. Anyone would be if Pat, made of muscle and smiles, whispered about his hard-on in their ear. And Pran is getting hard. The bright grin spreading across Pat’s face is confirmation.
And then Pran has, as often happens in his work as a designer and architect, a moment of clarity. Design is a set of flexible solutions to human problems. Pat is a human problem, and Pran…he has learned to be flexible.
What if Pat wasn’t satisfied with the virtual hugs? What if Pran found a way to make his annoying boyfriend shut up? In an incredibly sexy way that manages to feel absolutely spot-on for these two.