The shower faucet had been dripping for three weeks. Greg knew because he'd been counting — every plink against the porcelain like a metronome for his procrastination. He stretched his arms along the rim of the hot tub, the steam clinging to his chest hair in glistening droplets.
The water around him sloshed lazily as he adjusted his weight, his thighs spreading slightly under the surface. His hand drifted downward, fingers brushing through the dense trail of hair leading to his groin. His cock was already half-hard, the heat of the tub and the idle motion of his palm coaxing it thicker, heavier between his legs.
He let his head loll back against the padded edge, eyes shut. The distant creak of the back door opening didn't surprise him — Logan was never quiet, even when he tried to be. Greg smirked, dragging his thumb over the bead of pre-cum smeared across his tip. He didn't open his eyes yet.
Footsteps crunched on the patio stones, uneven, like Logan was already stumbling a little. Greg imagined him kicking off his shoes by the door, stripping in the hallway like he always did, clothes dumped in a heap. The sliding door hissed open. A gust of cool air cut through the steam.
"Jesus, you're really going for it already," Logan's voice rumbled, gravelly with arousal. Greg finally cracked one eye open to see him standing there, backlit by the porch light, his broad silhouette framed by the glow. The details came slower — the dark thatch of hair across his pecs, the way his stomach clenched as he took a step forward, his dick bobbing obscenely with each movement. A thick strand of pre-cum stretched from the tip to his thigh.
Greg exhaled through his nose, deliberately slow, and wrapped his fingers around his own cock, giving it a lazy stroke. "You're late," he said, voice rough. The water rippled as he spread his legs wider.
Logan’s nostrils flared. He didn’t bother with steps — just gripped the edge of the tub and swung one leg over, sinking into the water with a groan. The heat flushed his skin immediately, pink spreading across his chest. His knee knocked against Greg’s thigh underwater, deliberate.
"I got held up," he muttered, reaching out to swipe a thumb through the wetness on Greg’s lower lip. His other hand found Greg’s wrist underwater, guiding his grip tighter around his cock. "You gonna make it up to me?"
Greg chuckled darkly, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s collarbone, tasting chlorine and sweat. The movement made their cocks slide together under the water — hot, slick friction that drew a sharp breath from both of them. Logan’s hips jerked instinctively, grinding forward, and Greg bit down harder in response, teeth scraping skin.
Logan groaned, fingers twisting into the damp curls at the nape of Greg’s neck. His other hand roamed lower, palm sliding over Greg’s ass, kneading roughly before dipping between his cheeks. Greg arched into the touch, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. "Fuck," he hissed, breath hitching as Logan’s fingertip pressed against his hole. "Been thinking about this all day —"
"Yeah?" Logan’s voice was ragged, his breath hot against Greg’s ear. He crooked his finger slightly, teasing, and Greg shuddered, his cock throbbing against Logan’s stomach. The water distorted everything — sound, movement, the way Logan’s muscles flexed as he pushed deeper — but the sting of it, the stretch, was unmistakable. Greg’s toes curled against the textured floor of the tub.
Their mouths crashed together, sloppy and desperate, Logan’s tongue shoving past his lips. Greg could feel the scrape of Logan’s beard, the way his pulse hammered under his skin. He reached between them, wrapping a hand around both their cocks, squeezing just shy of too tight. Logan swore, hips stuttering, and Greg grinned against his mouth. "That’s it," he murmured. "Come on, big guy — let me feel it."
Logan growled, twisting them until Greg was braced against the tub’s edge, water sloshing onto the deck. His hand slid from Greg’s ass to his hip, gripping hard enough to leave marks as he guided Greg’s leg over the side. The air hit Greg’s wet skin, raising goosebumps, but Logan’s mouth was already on his neck, sucking dark bruises into the damp hair there. Greg tipped his head back, groaning as Logan nipped at his earlobe. "Fucking tease," he panted, fingers digging into Logan’s shoulders.
Then Logan was sinking to his knees on the wet tile, his breath hot against Greg’s inner thigh. He licked a broad stripe up the underside of Greg’s cock before swallowing him down in one smooth motion. Greg’s hips jerked, his toes curling against the tub’s ledge. "Christ —" His voice cracked as Logan hollowed his cheeks, bobbing ruthlessly, spit dripping down his shaft. Greg fisted a hand in Logan’s hair, tugging just to watch his eyes water.
Logan pulled off with a wet pop, panting. His lips were swollen, slick with spit. "Turn around," he rasped. Greg didn’t hesitate — he hauled himself onto the deck, water cascading off his body, and braced on all fours. Logan’s hands spread his ass, thumbs digging into the meat of his cheeks before his tongue swiped over Greg’s hole. Greg shuddered, pushing back into it. The sound was filthy — Logan eating him out like he was starving, lips and tongue working him open, spit dripping down his taint. Greg could feel the vibration of Logan’s groan against his skin. "You taste so good," Logan muttered, biting the curve of his ass. "I'm gonna wreck you."
Greg’s cock hung heavy between his legs, dripping onto the deck. He reached back, dragging Logan up by the hair, twisting to kiss him messy, tasting himself on Logan’s tongue. "Then do it," he breathed. "Quit fucking around." Logan’s answering grin was feral.
Hands slid down Greg’s spine, then gripped his hips hard as Logan pressed forward, his cockhead catching against Greg’s loosened hole. The first push burned — a sweet stretch that made Greg’s breath hitch. Logan didn’t ease in; he shoved deep in one brutal thrust, bottoming out with a groan. Water sloshed violently as Greg arched, fingers scrabbling against wet tile. "Jesus —"
Logan’s rhythm was relentless from the start, hips slamming into Greg’s ass, their skin slapping obscenely. Every withdrawal left Greg clenching around nothing until Logan speared him again, his balls slapping against Greg’s taint. Greg reached back blindly, grabbing Logan’s thigh to pull him deeper. The angle shifted, and Logan’s next thrust dragged against his prostate. Greg swore, his vision whiting out for a second.
Breathless, Greg twisted under him, shoving Logan onto his back on the deck. Water from their bodies pooled around them as Greg straddled him, sinking down onto Logan’s cock with a groan. He braced his hands on Logan’s chest, rolling his hips slow at first, grinding just to watch Logan’s abs clench. Then faster — harder — until they were both panting, Logan’s fingers digging into Greg’s thighs.
Logan sat up suddenly, wrapping an arm around Greg’s waist to haul him close, their sweat-slick chests pressing together as he fucked up into him. His other hand wrapped around Greg’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Greg sucked Logan’s shoulder to muffle his moan, saliva smearing over damp skin. The air smelled like sex and chlorine, their gasps mingling as Logan’s pace turned erratic.
"I'm ... gonna come —" Logan gritted out, his grip tightening. Greg felt him pulse inside, hot and deep, and that was all it took — his own orgasm ripped through him, sperm striping Logan’s stomach as he shuddered, thighs trembling. Logan kissed him through it, sloppy and uncoordinated, teeth clacking together.
Greg collapsed against him, boneless, their hearts hammering in sync. Logan’s cum dripped out of him onto Logan’s softening cock, the mess mingling with the sweat and chlorinated water between them.
Neither moved for a long moment, just breathing in the thick, humid air, until Logan chuckled against Greg’s temple. "Shit," he muttered, trailing a lazy finger through the mess on his stomach. "We’re gonna need a shower."
Greg snorted, peeling himself off Logan with a wince. His knees ached from the tile, his ass throbbed pleasantly, and the night air raised goosebumps on his damp skin. He swiped a hand through the mess on Logan’s abdomen before licking his fingers clean, watching Logan’s pupils dilate despite his exhaustion. "Later," Greg said, voice rough. He reached for Logan’s discarded towel, tossing it at his face. "First, beer."
Logan caught it with a grin, wiping himself down with exaggerated slowness, like he knew Greg was watching. His thighs were slick, his pubic hair matted with spit and cum, and Greg couldn’t help reaching out to squeeze his hip, thumb rubbing over the mark he’d left earlier. "You’re insatiable," Logan teased, swatting Greg’s ass as he stood.
Greg rolled his eyes, stretching his arms overhead with a satisfied groan. The hot tub bubbled invitingly behind them, steam curling into the night. He dipped a hand in, swirling the water absently. "You gonna join me or just stand there looking smug?"
Logan’s grin turned wolfish as he stepped back into the tub, sinking into the heat with a groan. His knees bumped Greg’s under the water, and he hooked an ankle around Greg’s calf, dragging him closer. Greg let himself be pulled, settling between Logan’s spread thighs with a contented sigh. Logan’s hands found his shoulders, kneading the tension from his muscles, thumbs pressing into the knots along his spine.
Greg tipped his head back against Logan’s collarbone, eyes drifting shut. The porch light flickered overhead, moths batting against the bulb in erratic orbits. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and Logan’s chuckle vibrated through Greg’s back as his fingers traced idle patterns through the hair on his chest.
Beer cans glistened with condensation on the tub’s edge. Greg reached for his, taking a slow pull, the bitterness sharp on his tongue. Logan’s lips brushed his shoulder — not quite a kiss, just the damp press of skin. “We’re gonna prune up,” Logan murmured, nipping lightly.
Greg hummed, noncommittal. His thighs were still trembling faintly, the water easing the ache in his muscles. Logan’s cock nudged against his ass, half-hard again already. “Don’t,” Greg warned, but there was no heat in it. He tilted the beer toward Logan, who leaned in to sip from the same spot Greg’s mouth had been.
A breeze rustled the shrubs lining the yard, carrying the scent of jasmine and the faint tang of chlorine. Logan exhaled against Greg’s neck, his breath warm. “Do you think the neighbors heard?”
Greg snorted, rolling the can between his palms. “I doubt they care.” He twisted just enough to catch Logan’s smirk, the way his stubble scraped red marks into Greg’s skin earlier now shadowed in the dim light.
Logan’s hand slid down Greg’s stomach, fingers trailing through coarse hair before dipping lower, teasing. Greg swatted him away, but Logan just laughed, gripping Greg’s hip instead. The water sloshed as he shifted, his erection unmistakable against Greg’s lower back.
“Seriously?” Greg tipped his head back against Logan’s shoulder, staring up at the stars. One hand drifted to Logan’s thigh underwater, fingertips tracing the wiry hair there.
Logan’s teeth grazed his ear. “Just seeing if you’re still awake.”
Greg huffed out a laugh, twisting to face him. Water lapped at their chests as he straddled Logan’s lap, the movement familiar, effortless. Logan’s hands settled on his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his hip bones.
The porch light buzzed faintly. Greg leaned in, tasting beer and salt on Logan’s tongue.
Logan groaned into his mouth, hips lifting instinctively, and Greg grinned against his lips. “Like you said,” he muttered. “Insatiable.”
Logan’s grip tightened. “And whose fault is that?”
Greg didn’t answer — just rocked forward, dragging a ragged noise from Logan’s throat as their bodies slid together again. The water rippled around them, warm as breath.
This time, Logan moved differently. His fingers traced the curve of Greg’s ribs like he was mapping him — slow, reverent. His kisses softened from biting to lingering — slow drags of lips against stubble, the occasional press of tongue so tender it made Greg’s chest ache. He shifted Greg onto his back in the water, cradling his head against the tub’s edge before sinking down between his thighs. Logan’s mouth was obscenely gentle now — kissing the inside of Greg’s knee, the jut of his hipbone, the trail of hair leading to his cock — before taking him in with a sigh rather than a swallow.
Greg’s breath hitched. The contrast was dizzying — Logan’s calloused hands gripping his hips, the scrape of his beard against Greg’s thighs, but the rhythm of his mouth was achingly sweet — slow sucks punctuated by wet, open-mouthed kisses to the tip. His tongue swirled lazily, savoring. Greg tangled his fingers in Logan’s hair, not to push, just to anchor himself as pleasure coiled slow and syrupy in his gut.
When Logan finally lifted his head, his lips were slick, his gaze dark. He surged up to kiss Greg — deep, unhurried — while his fingers slipped between Greg’s legs, circling his hole with slick from the tub. Greg exhaled sharply, thighs falling open wider as Logan pressed in — one thick finger, then two — crooking them just so, dragging against his walls until Greg was panting, arching. “Easy,” Logan murmured, lips against Greg’s temple. “I got you.”
Greg shuddered, wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders as Logan eased inside him — no rush, no force — just a steady push until their hips met. The stretch burned, but Logan kissed him through it — soft, lingering presses that made Greg’s toes curl. When Logan finally began to move, it wasn’t the brutal pace from before — just slow rolls of his hips, each thrust deliberate, each withdrawal leaving Greg gasping. Logan’s hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones as he whispered, “Look at you,” his voice wrecked.
Greg could feel every ridge of Logan’s cock inside him, the way their bodies fit — the sweat and water mingling between them, the frantic thud of Logan’s heartbeat against his chest. He hooked his legs over Logan’s hips, pulling him deeper as their mouths met again — messy, breathless, endless. Logan groaned when Greg clenched around him, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck — Greg —“
Greg dug his fingers into Logan’s back, his nails scraping skin as their pleasure crested — white-hot and overwhelming — his release crashing over him with a muffled cry against Logan’s shoulder. Logan followed with a choked gasp, his hips stuttering as he spilled his sperm deep, his arms locking around Greg like he’d never let go.
They stayed like that, tangled and breathless, until the water around them began to cool. Logan finally pulled out with a wince and a filthy sound that made Greg’s spent cock twitch. He collapsed beside Greg, their legs still entwined beneath the surface, their shoulders bumping whenever one of them shifted. The night air prickled against their wet skin, but neither moved to grab towels.
Logan’s fingers brushed Greg’s wrist underwater, tracing the raised veins lazily. “Still think the neighbors heard?” he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction.
Greg smirked, tilting his head to study the hickey blooming across Logan’s collarbone. “If they didn’t, they’re deaf.” He reached for his abandoned beer, warm now, and took a swig before passing it to Logan. Their fingers lingered a beat too long in the exchange.
Logan drank deeply, his throat working, then exhaled with a contented sigh. His free hand drifted to Greg’s thigh, kneading the muscle absently. “I'm staying over,” he said, not a question.
Greg arched a brow. “Was there ever another option?”
Logan’s grin was slow, wicked. He leaned in, his lips grazing Greg’s ear. “Nope. I'm gonna wreck you again before dawn.”
Greg shivered, though not from the chill. He caught Logan’s chin, pulling him into a kiss that tasted of beer and sweat and promises. The water lapped at their chests, the steam long gone, but neither noticed. The shower could wait. The dripping faucet could wait. Everything could wait.
Logan's hand slid up Greg's inner thigh, fingers dancing dangerously close to where he was already growing hard again. Greg bit Logan’s bottom lip in warning, but Logan only chuckled, low and knowing. "You love it," he murmured against Greg’s mouth, thumb pressing a slow circle into the sensitive skin just below his balls.
Greg’s breath hitched. He could feel Logan’s smirk as his fingers trailed higher, ghosting over his shaft before wrapping around it with practiced ease. The touch was lazy, unhurried — a tease more than anything — but Greg’s hips jerked anyway, chasing the friction.
Logan pulled back, just enough to watch Greg’s face as he stroked him, slow and filthy. His other hand gripped Greg’s hip, holding him still. "Nah," he murmured, thumb swiping over the leaking tip. "You don’t get to rush this time."
Greg groaned, head thudding back against the tub’s edge. The stars overhead blurred as Logan’s grip tightened, his pace agonizingly deliberate. Every drag of his palm sent sparks up Greg’s spine, but Logan kept him teetering on the edge, denying him release with infuriating precision.
A mosquito buzzed near Greg’s ear, but he barely registered it. His entire world narrowed to Logan’s hand, the callouses scraping just right, the way his breath hitched whenever Greg clenched around nothing. Then, without warning, Logan stopped entirely.
Greg’s eyes flew open. "You bastard —"
Logan silenced him with a kiss, swallowing his protest as he hauled Greg into his lap. Their cocks slid together, slick with water and precum, and Greg’s voice broke into a moan. Logan’s arms locked around him, holding him close as he ground up against him, their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.
The night hummed around them, alive with crickets and the distant rumble of a passing car. But all Greg heard was Logan’s ragged whisper against his lips: "Now."
Greg gasped as Logan surged up inside him, the angle deeper this time, relentless. His thighs trembled as Logan gripped his hips hard, slamming into him with a rhythm that sent water sloshing onto the deck in rhythmic bursts. Greg’s nails dug into Logan’s shoulders, his voice raw from moaning, his cock bouncing untouched between them, leaking with every thrust.
Logan’s breath hitched, his rhythm faltering. He buried his face in Greg’s neck as he muttered, "Fuck, I can’t —" before his hips stuttered, his release pulsing hot sperm inside Greg with a groan that vibrated through both of them. Greg clenched around him, dragging it out, until Logan shuddered and went boneless against him.
But Greg wasn’t done. He rolled them suddenly, pinning Logan against the tub’s edge, water sloshing over the sides. Logan’s eyes darkened as Greg straddled him, his own cock still achingly hard. "My turn," Greg growled, gripping Logan’s wrists and pressing them against the rim. Logan’s smirk was challenge enough.
Greg leaned down, capturing Logan’s mouth in a biting kiss as he ground against him, their sweat-slick bodies sliding together. Logan’s hips bucked, his cock twitching against Greg’s thigh, already half-hard again. Greg laughed darkly against his lips. "Insatiable," he repeated, before sinking his teeth into Logan’s shoulder.
Logan gasped, arching, and Greg took advantage, twisting Logan’s wrists tighter as he rutted against him, the friction just shy of enough. Logan’s thighs trembled, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Greg —"
Greg kissed him silent, swallowing his moans as his own release built, white-hot and inevitable. The stars blurred. The night air burned his lungs. And when he finally came, it was with Logan’s name on his lips and Logan’s lips on his collarbone, marking him as thoroughly as if he’d been claimed.
They stayed tangled in the tub long after, their bodies slack, the water cooling around them. Greg felt Logan’s heartbeat slow against his chest, steady as a drum. Then Logan exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath. “Greg,” he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on Greg’s shoulder. “We, uh — we said this was casual, right?”
Greg knew. He’d known from the way Logan had kissed him differently tonight — softer, slower, like he was memorizing the shape of Greg’s mouth. He lifted his head, meeting Logan’s gaze. Logan’s brows were knitted, his lips parted like he was afraid of what might come next. Greg leaned in, brushing his mouth over Logan’s once, twice — testing — before whispering, “Yeah. And?”
Logan’s throat bobbed. “And I’m kinda fucked,” he admitted, voice rough. “Because I think I’m in love with you.”
Greg didn’t hesitate. He cradled Logan’s face in his hands, thumbs sweeping over the stubble along his jaw. “Good,” he murmured against Logan’s lips. “Because I’ve been in love with you for months, you oblivious bastard.”
Logan’s laugh was startled, breathless, his hands tightening on Greg’s hips. He kissed Greg fiercely, deep enough to steal his breath, like he was trying to prove something. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, searching. “So what now?”
Greg smirked, nipping at Logan’s lower lip. “Now?” He rolled his hips, gratified by the way Logan’s breath hitched. “Now we go inside. And you show me exactly how much you mean it.”
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