Page 169 of Should the Sky Fall

Surprise fills Dawson’s features. “Yeah?” Cal nods eagerly. “Okay. Um…maybe like this?” He gestures at the position Cal’s in. “Or I can lie back, but it’s harder if you have to lie on your stomach.”

“Like this is perfect.” He couldn’t care less, but whatever gets Dawson’s cock in his mouth faster works for him.

They rise to their feet, Cal shedding the rest of his clothes. He guides Dawson to sit at the edge, then bends down for a kiss. He means for it to be quick and chaste, but Dawson makes a noise that sets something inside him off, and then he’s plundering Dawson’s mouth like a starving man.

He's already out of breath when he finally pulls away and drops to his knees, imitating their previous position. Dawson seems half-gone already, but he sobers up a little when Cal’s fingers curl around his erection.

Uncertainty makes Cal’s stomach clench. “I’m sorry if I’m not very good. I watched some videos, but they weren’t very detailed.” Maybe he can just replicate whatever Dawson did to him? Not that he remembers much; he was too lost to the sensation to focus on the mechanics.

“Just be careful with the teeth and—wait. Videos?” Dawson blinks at him slowly, his eyes going wide. “You mean you watchedporn?”

“A little. Ellis came in and he yelled at me.”

“You watched porn in Ellis’ office?!”

He thought Ellis was overreacting when he found Cal like that, but judging by Dawson’s reaction, he might’ve been wrong.

“I was waiting for him to finish a meeting. I couldn’t stop thinking about last night and wanted to make sure I did it right.”

Dawson’s mouth opens and closes, then he lets out a bark of laughter. “I think that’s one of the most disturbing, sweetest things I’ve heard.”

“I’ll tell Ellis you said that.”

Dawson’s answering chuckle transforms into a soft moan when Cal presses a kiss to the tip of his cock. It’s hot and a little wet, and when Cal’s tongue darts out, he tastes something bitter and sweet. His eyes slide shut—he knows he should probably keep them open to gauge Dawson’s responses, but he can’t help it.

Praying that this is going to be one of those things he can wing by letting his muscle memory take over, he parts his lips and takes Dawson as deep as he can, wanting to feel him everywhere. He can’t take all of him, but it’s okay because Dawson is perfect in his mouth, stretching his lips in a way that feels strangely satisfying.

Cal starts bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks when he pulls up just as he saw Dawson do. It earns him a beautiful moan, and Dawson buries his hands in Cal’s hair, giving it a tug. Can answers with a moan of his own, the sensation of having his hair pulled sending sparks through his scalp and down his spine. Dawson shudders, as though he likes hearing Cal enjoying himself.

“Yeah. That’s…that’s good. Fuck,” Dawson stutters out, his thighs tensing and relaxing sporadically. So, Cal does it again, making every sound under the sun as he sucks Dawson’s cock. The bitter-sweet taste spreads across Cal’s tongue, making his own cock throb.

“Cal, I’m close. You have to…have to slow down.”

He doesn’t want to. He could listen to Dawson’s desperate, wanton sounds forever. But Dawson keeps pulling on his hair, harder now, trying to get him to stop.

He pulls off regretfully, licking his lips to chase the remnants of Dawson’s taste.

Dawson’s face and neck are flushed, his lips bright red like he’s been chewing on them. He cups Cal’s jaw and leans down to capture his mouth, the kiss slow and tender, but it rekindles the fire inside Cal all the same. Everything about Dawson does.

His thumbs stroke Cal’s cheekbones, and he smiles; a shy, precious thing. Then he’s letting go and moving up the bed until he’s resting against the pillows. He keeps one of his legs bent, letting it fall to the side.

He grins. “Do I have to start without you?”

Cal has never moved so fast. He’s still dizzy from bringing Dawson pleasure with his mouth, but seeing him like that, all spread out and waiting for him, calls out to Cal’s most primal part. There’s another part that would love to see Dawson touch himself, but that’s for another day. Hopefully.

Getting lube from the nightstand, he joins Dawson on the bed, kneeling by his side. He looks so open and trusting, and it has Cal’s protective streak awakening with a vengeance.

He wants to ask if Dawson is sure, but what comes out instead is, “You’re stunning.”

Dawson gives a nervous laugh and runs a hand over his face, as if trying to hide. “Shut up.”

“No.” Not a chance.

He squeezes some lube onto his fingers and stretches himself out alongside Dawson, propping up on one elbow so his other hand is free. “Stunning,” he repeats, kissing along Dawson’s collarbone and up the column of his neck as he slowly brings his hand between Dawson’s parted legs. “Beautiful.” He touches Dawson there, between his cheeks, spreading the lube around his entrance before pressing in with one finger. “Perfect,” he whispers against Dawson’s lips that just opened on a gasp. He kisses his mouth and his face, anywhere his lips can reach while he works him open. He adds a second finger when Dawson starts pushing down onto his hand. “Mine.”

Dawson makes a sound like a sob. It sets off alarm bells in Cal’s head, but before he can draw back and put a stop to everything, Dawson’s nodding frantically and whimpering, “Yours.”

Cal has to kiss him again. He has to. He’s sure he’ll die otherwise.