clay in your hair
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So many nights he has lain in bed, hand stroking his cock, and thought of Carlos Alcaraz. So many times he has come biting his lip, just so he wouldn’t gasp out his name.
Jannik takes off his sweats. He closes his eyes and caresses his bare thighs. He doesn’t have to put much effort into imagining the hands that are touching him belong to Carlos. Jannik’s palms are just as calloused from holding racquets, just as strong.
Series
- Part 1 of clay in your hair
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“You weren’t expecting me?”, Jannik asks, stepping forward. The room is dimly lit by the bedside lamp, the cozy glow making Carlos look soft and innocent. He moves back, the heels of his feet now touching the fluffy carpet, and Jannik takes another step in his direction. There is still too much space between them.
“It’s late”, Carlos mutters. “I was in bed already.”
“Were you asleep?”, Jannik asks, taking another step. Their chests are nearly touching and Carlos has to look up to maintain eye contact.
Carlos shakes his head. His eyes shimmer with something indescribable. “No”, he whispers. He lowers his head and confesses, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Series
- Part 2 of clay in your hair