(Inspired by this photo)
“Fuck…” Jesse mumbled into Miguel’s lips. This hadn’t been the point, this wasn’t what he planned. “I didn’t know you were in here, I really–”
“Shut up,” Miguel groaned. His sweater was rubbing against Jesse’s bare chest, chafing, and it should have hurt — hell, it did hurt, but it was a good hurt. Good because he’d wanted this, dreamed of this from Miguel and his thick lips and strong arms since they’d met, but this was the one time he hadn’t been trying. “Fucking dancing around shirtless, teasing me.”
“Teasing you– Jesus–” The lick of Miguel’s tongue against his sent his hips rolling forward in an involuntary rush. “I didn’t know–”
“You think I didn’t notice?” Miguel growled, and his mouth traveled down across Jesse’s chin to his neck. Jesse convulsed and cried out, hands scrabbling to hold tight to that damn sweater and tug. “You’ve been trying too hard, Jess. I know you want this.”
“OK,” Jesse rasped between quick, shallow breaths. “OK, I want it, but right now I didn’t– I wasn’t trying… fuck!” His head came down onto Miguel’s shoulder at the first whisper of Miguel’s fingertips on the inside of his waistband. His cock was straining upward, trying to break free, and Jesse couldn’t help little thrusts of his hips to help close the gap between the unbearable heat and the enticement of Miguel’s fingers.
When they finally dove down, took him in, Jesse’s shout was embarrassing.
He found Miguel’s lips, kissed him hard, and hitched himself up into that hot hand. But Miguel’s fingers had gone still, holding him firmly, not allowing the friction Jesse wanted so bad. He whimpered and broke off the kiss to aim pleading eyes at Miguel’s wicked ones.
Miguel’s grin broke slowly across his face. “You’re still trying too hard,” he said.