Chapter 3
“So,” Gabe said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He had a warm, damp washcloth in one hand and bottled water in the other. He offered the bottle to Tom and started carefully cleaning Tom up, avoiding the painful crease across Tom’s chest. “Aftercare. Does that, like, include masturbatin’? ‘Cause I know you didn’t finish an’ I got you pretty wound up. Don’t wanna leave you hanging.”
Tom was startled into a laugh, only just avoiding spraying half the bed with the water he’d just taken a sip of. “I’m—” He managed to choke himself off before he actually said I’m fine, because he was pretty sure Gabe didn’t want to hear that phrase ever again. Certainly not for the rest of the night. “Not hanging, really,” he adjusted. “Not saying I wouldn’t go from idle to sixty in one-point-three
