His eyes were flickering with gold as he finished, his gaze roaming over Tyler. As always, Tyler shuddered in response; those burning eyes were like a caress, leaving a trail of fire everywhere they traveled. His cock, half-hard between his thighs, jumped as though to attract a more physical touch. Smiling ruefully, Jeremy shook his head.
“He’d know,” he said again, reaching inside the shower to turn on the water. “I doubt you’re ready to see him quite that annoyed. Get in.”
He accompanied the last words with a swat at Tyler’s ass that truly did nothing to calm Tyler’s need. The spray of cool water when Tyler climbed into the shower, on the other hand, did wonders to reduce his cock’s interest. He couldn’t stop a quiet yelp, and heard Jeremy chuckle on the other side of the frosted glass.
“It’ll warm up,” Jeremy said. “Wash your hair.”
“Aren’t you joining—”
Before Tyler could finish, Jeremy was stepping in behind him. The shower wasn’t very large, but Tyler didn’t mind being so close to Jeremy that their arms or cocks brushed against each other with every move. The water was starting to warm up and Tyler moved back to let Jeremy enjoy it too. When he turned to face him, Jeremy was setting a tube of lube on the shower’s recessed shelf.
Tyler’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead and he grinned. “I thought you said he’d know if—”
Jeremy stopped him with a cluck of his tongue. “I also said to wash your hair,” he said reproachfully. “He hates hair gel. And we’re taking too long here. Come on, hurry up.”
More than Jeremy’s words, it was his tone that sent a cold shiver down Tyler’s spine. Never before had he heard Jeremy sound so nervous, and his own edginess ratcheted up in reply. He stuck his head directly under the spray of water to soak his hair. When he reached for the shampoo bottle on the ledge, Jeremy’s hand was already closing over it.
“Turn around,” Jeremy said as he poured a dollop of clear shampoo into his palm. “I’ll do it.”
Tyler flashed him a smile before turning back to face the wall. Jeremy’s hands were on him at once, guiding Tyler’s head backward before Jeremy started scrubbing, his fingers digging into Tyler’s scalp hard enough to draw a hum of contentment from him. The next second, Jeremy shuffled forward, and his cock slid, hard and slick, against the crack of Tyler’s ass.
Even with what Jeremy had said about the lack of time and Alan’s certain disapproval, Tyler couldn’t help himself and pushed back against Jeremy’s cock. It twitched in what Tyler imagined was hope, and Tyler’s own desire flared up in reply.
“Behave,” Jeremy said, the reproach clear in his voice, but his hands were still gentle when he pushed Tyler’s head directly under the water to rinse the shampoo. His fingers fell away too fast—but they soon returned, slick with lube and gently massaging Tyler’s opening.
Tyler gasped at the unexpected touch. Soapy water trickled into his mouth and he sputtered.
“What…you just said—”
“I said he’ll be mad if we touch ourselves, or each other,” Jeremy cut in. His voice remained steady, almost cool even as he pushed his thumb inside Tyler. “He’ll be just as disappointed if we’re not prepared when we go to him.”
His free hand rested against Tyler’s back and stroked in slow circles. “Relax,” he murmured. “You want this, don’t you?”
Tyler bent forward, holding himself up by pressing a hand to the cool tiles, and tried to force his body to accept Jeremy’s touch—two slick fingers, now—without resisting. “I do,” he said, a little breathless.
He wasn’t lying, not really; he just would have been a lot more confident if he had known exactly what was ahead. Did Jeremy even know? And was he avoiding Tyler’s prostate on purpose? Tyler widened his stance as much as the shower stall would allow and tried to shift to guide Jeremy’s fingers where he wanted them, but he only received a light swat to the back of his head for his trouble.
“Stop that,” Jeremy said, and he, too, sounded breathless when he pressed one more finger inside Tyler. “Do you want him to be even angrier than he is? This isn’t about getting off. It’s about being ready for him if he wants this. If.”
After a last twist of his fingers, Jeremy pulled away. Tyler bit back a moan at the sensation of loss, and, a little unsteady, turned around to lean back against the tiles. His mouth dropped open when he saw Jeremy squeeze more lube onto his fingers.
“Turn off the water,” Jeremy said, already reaching behind himself.
Tyler’s heart thundered once or twice—or maybe a dozen times—before the request finally made it to his mind. He did shut the water off, but couldn’t tear his gaze off Jeremy.
“Do you…” He swallowed hard and told his cock to stand down, with little result. “Do you want me to do that for you?”
Jeremy grinned at him. “In your state? I don’t…” He closed his eyes tightly for a second or two. “Don’t think it’d be such a good idea. Get out and dry yourself.”
Moving was really not appealing in the least, but when Tyler was slow in obeying, Jeremy flashed a narrowed-eyes look at him. Pulling his hand away from his own ass, he stepped out of the stall.
“You’d better move faster than that when he tells you to do something,” he chided. “Or I’ll have prepared you for nothing.”
He threw a towel at Tyler, who caught it by pure reflex. He looked down at his hand, belatedly remembering what the towel was for, but didn’t use it right away. Instead, he couldn’t help but ask a question whose answer he already knew; he just needed to hear it aloud.
“Is he going to fuck me?”