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Link wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting outside the spa, staring at the gift certificate in his lap.
He had never gotten a massage before; the whole thing seemed kind of.. awkward. Like he was just supposed to pay some woman to touch him? He wasn’t a fan of parting with money, or with women touching his body for that matter.
He had won the gift certificate a while back as part of a raffle at work that he’d been automatically entered into. He’d tried to ignore the comments that his coworkers had made about it being fitting, or possibly rigged, that Link - the most uptight of the crew - be the one to win the deep tissue massage session. And an even snider remark about the possibility of the masseuse working the stick out of his ass.
Link didn’t really care what his coworkers thought. He wasn’t there to make friends. He was there to make money. And he was very good at his job. He was also very focused on his job - which was helpful, as he was usually too focused to zoom out and acknowledge how there wasn’t really much going on with him outside of work.
One of the girls from an office next door to his department had asked him out earlier that week. And Link had clumsily made up an excuse not to go.
There were a lot of things he could have said to get out of it. But what he’d landed on was that he had plans that weekend. It wasn’t like she was going to check up on him to see if it was true. She was a very sweet person, and hadn’t grilled him about what these other plans were.
But for some reason as Friday dragged into Saturday, he found that it was really bothering him that he didn’t have any plans.
He was getting another Topo Chico from the fridge when he closed the refrigerator door and found himself face to face with the gift certificate that he’d won for a deep tissue massage. Pinned to the door with a refrigerator magnet. His eyes drifted to the small print and he realized it expired the next day.
He did a quick search on his phone to see how late the place was open. Or how early it would open tomorrow morning.
It seemed they had late hours, and there were a few open time slots.
Link chewed his bottom lip. Did he really want to go downtown on a Saturday. Sounded like a personal nightmare.
Then again, he had wanted to grab a few paper files from the office. Technically, it could wait until Monday. But it did give him an excuse..
The ember of a small thrill began to glow deep within him. He was looking for an excuse to step outside his comfort zone.
A date with a coworker wasn’t the step he was looking for, but a new experience on his own? Maybe..
Link had decisively decided to get dressed. He would swing by the office for an hour and then check out the whole massage.. thing.
He wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear to a massage. Some sort of active wear? It wasn’t a sport, but there was a physical element. He didn’t have any hippy dippy outfits, if he was supposed to embrace the more woo-woo aspect of massage therapy. Did they give you what you were supposed to wear at the massage place? So maybe it would be strange to try to wear something tailored to the massage experience.
Plus, whatever he decided to wear - he’d also be wearing it into the office. He didn’t expect there to be anyone there on a Saturday afternoon, but.. You never know.
He decided to dress like he normally did for work. He took a shower, shaved. Shaved.. everywhere. He put himself into his crisp suit and confidence coursed through him as he admired the way it accentuated his angular shape. He styled his hair. He put on cologne.
Who am I doing this for?
He suddenly felt like he was preparing for a date. And maybe he was. He was taking himself out. That felt like an oddly.. healthy thing to do. He wasn’t going to run into anyone at work. He predicted a mutual disinterest in appearance between himself and his masseuse - he was imagining a elderly, no nonsense, Asian grandmother.
This was for him. He deserved to feel handsome. He deserved to treat himself to new experiences. He didn’t have to stay at home on a Saturday night, just because it felt practical.
Now, Link sat in the parking lot, nervously picking at the edges of the gift certificate. He wasn’t feeling as confident as he had at home, looking at himself in the mirror. He felt nervous. He was wishing maybe he had been a little more practical. His chest, and shoulders felt tense, and his stomach was a black hole of anxiety.
A nagging voice in the back of his mind pointed out that.. he really could use a massage.
The inside of the spa was vastly more impressive than the outside had been, once Link had mustered up the gumption to go in. Everything was very white, and light, and clean; accentuated with green plants. It felt very refreshing, and something about the look reminded Link to breathe. He was great fun for that reminder as he tried to squash his nerves.
Link noticed that there was nobody else in the lobby as the woman behind the desk smiled to welcome him. He knew it was approaching the end of their workday, but he made sure there were more than 2 hours left - as that was what their website had recommended he plan for. Though Link couldn’t fathom spending 2 hours being massaged.
He handed his gift certificate over to the woman behind the desk, hoping his hands didn’t tremble too much as he did.
“You’re in luck. We have one massage therapist immediately available for you. If you require a restroom before you get started, there is one just to the left here in the lobby? Otherwise, I will walk you back to the massage rooms.”
Link took her up on the offer of a restroom. He was already uncomfortable enough with the massage as a concept. No need to add the discomfort of a full bladder.
After he’d relieved himself, Link followed her as she led him to a room with the same white light and white walls. It had been refreshing, but he wasn’t sure it was relaxing. It suddenly took on the clinical feel of being in an exam room waiting for the doctor.
At least he wasn’t wearing a paper gown.
After a short while, the tallest man Link had ever seen - outside of his television screen, during a basketball game - walked into the room. He had shoulder length, wavy auburn hair and was dressed head to toe in soft white linen.
He looked kind of like an angel.
This can’t be my masseuse, Link thought in a light panic. Masseur? Oh gosh, I’d forgotten that was a thing.
As if in response, the angel introduced his role.
“Good evening. I’ll be your massage therapist.”
His voice was deep, soft.. and it seemed to rumble under his skin as if it was part of the massage experience.
Link felt himself begin to sweat under his collar.
Oh no, he’s hot.
The masseur indicated a stack of white towels folded up and lying on white shelves along the wall.
“I’m going to leave the room so you can undress. Please lie down on the table, on your front with the towel for privacy - according to your comfort.”
“According to my..?”
“Some people prefer to cover themself with a towel, others do not,” he explained, evenly. “I have no preference.”
Link felt his face flush crimson. He hadn’t thought he’d need to get naked. Towel or no.
“I, uh..” Link began. “I’ve never gotten a massage before.”
The masseur did not react.
Link continued, “I do not think my.. level of comfort.. requires me to.. undress?” Link took off his blazer leaving him in a white button down shirt.
“I want to prioritize your comfort, but..” The man took the blazer from Link and hung it on a hook. “You look like you have some expensive clothes. I don’t want to crush the fabric, and it may be uncomfortable rubbing and pinching against your skin. It will make it slightly more difficult to isolate the muscles. There is also oil involved, and that won’t work with covered skin. It.. you will get a fuller experience.” He let his professional voice slip ever so slightly as he added. “I want you to get your money’s worth, man. Oh, and I’m a really good massage therapist. I don’t want you having an incomplete experience and leaving me a bad review, when I’m not set up to give you the best experience.”
“Well, I had a gift certificate, so I’ve already gotten my money’s worth.”
“Okay, then.. if you’re sure..”
“I’m sure. I just.. know I have a lot of tension in my shoulders. Might be some knots or something. Maybe you could work that out? I don’t need any.. oil or whatever else.”
The masseur didn’t laugh. But Link thought he saw a small smile playing at the edge of his lips, only subtly visible behind a handsome beard. He queued up some sort of music, before pulling his hair back into a messy knot on the back of his head. The man positioned himself behind Link, who remained seated. He began to knead experimentally at Link’s muscles in his shoulders.
Link huffed a bit under his breath.
“Does that hurt?” the man asked, with that soft rumble.
“A little.”
“You weren’t kidding about carrying tension in your back. You’re incredibly tight..”
Link was glad he wasn’t facing him, so he couldn’t see how he blushed.
“Your entire back is like one giant knot.”
As the large hands slowly worked him over it began to hurt a little less. The masseur had been correct about the feel of the fabric against his skin. It was beginning to feel a tad.. abrasive.
“Okay, I think I might just.. remove my shirt. It is starting to rub.”
“If you lie down, it will help to get through to target the deep layers of muscles,” the masseur suggested.
Link pressed his lips together in protest, but he really couldn’t argue with how he felt his muscles loosening already. On one hand, if he was already experiencing a benefit - why bother pushing himself further outside his comfort zone? But on the other hand, if he was already experiencing a benefit - what else might be gained if he gave in and went for more?
I’m keeping my pants on, he told himself, as he wordlessly maneuvered himself onto his belly on the table.
The man helped to position his head in the pillowy headrest. His hands were so close to Link’s face. Something about the proximity of fingers to his face felt so.. intimate. Link found he was struggling to keep his breathing even. He hoped that wasn’t obvious in the rise and fall of his back and shoulders.
The next thing Link felt was skin directly against his naked skin. Strong hands on muscles that he hadn’t even realized had been aching before those hands had begun to relieve them.
It was usually Link’s responsibility to anticipate and react to things on behalf of his company. Having someone else anticipate what he needed was a hell of a role reversal.
It felt good, but it also felt.. overwhelming. To have unearthed this sense of self neglect.
The masseur’s technique began to deepen. Link tried to bite back noises that were bubbling up to the surface, unlocked by the way the massage therapist’s hands seemed to release them from his muscle tissue.
Trying not to moan or groan in any embarrassing way kept making Link hold his breath, which led to him panting.
“Just breathe..” the man above him encouraged him in a calm, even tone. That voice seemed to have gotten under his skin, to smooth the conjoined sensations of pleasure and pain that were being woven into the fabric of his physical body.
Link hissed in pain as the friction of the massage created a fleeting burning sensation beneath one shoulder blade.
“I’m sorry,” the man said as he pulled back. “Oil would be really helpful right about now. But I don’t want to risk it dripping onto your pants. I don’t think I make enough money in a month to compensate you for them.”
“You should be paid more,” Link said automatically. Apparently the massage had loosened his tongue as well as his back.
“Ha. Talk to my manager,” the man joked.
Link took a breath to steel his nerve. “You still have that towel?”
“Of course. I will leave the room if you’d like to further disrobe.”
“Right. Yeah, I think I will. The friction’s a little overpowering without that oil, or whatever.”
The man left the room and Link felt like he could finally breathe.
He was incredibly self conscious of the direction his lizard brain kept trying to go in as he slipped out of his pants. Yes, he was getting naked. But not for this man. At least not like that.
He found that he enjoyed imagining what it would be like to undress for the tall masseur. To let the man help him relax completely. Use that oil for more than massaging.
Link pulled his brain back from its position in the gutter, and tried to calm the full body blush that he felt glowing under the surface of his skin.
Lying face down would help obscure where the rest of the rest of the blood - not contributing to the blushing - had pooled.
Link made sure that the towel was securely wrapped around his hips before he lied down completely, face back in the cushioned pillow.. thing. He kept having the phantom sensation that the towel could slip, or that there was some kind of breeze between his legs, though he had double and triple checked that he was fully covered.
Finally, the massage therapist returned.
Finally, he had his hands back on Link’s body.
The oil was incredibly helpful. He still felt a pleasant ache as the tension was released from his deep muscles, but without the burning friction from the dry.. rubbing.
Link didn’t know how long he’d been lying there, getting kneaded like bread. He knew he’d let a few grunts or groans slip. But he thought he’d kept most of the euphoric expletives or grateful blasphemies to himself.
When the man paused, Link wondered if it had actually been two hours already.
He would have believed it.
He had become a stranger to space and time. The only reality he knew was this man’s hands.
“You can go ahead and flip over,” the man told him.
Like hell I can!
The masseur cleared his throat, and as if Link hadn’t heard him, he repeated himself. “Go ahead and flip over.”
“I.. I’m good like this. It’s just my shoulder muscles.”
“Well, have I got some news for you! You’ve got ‘shoulder muscles’ on your front as well as your back.”
Does he think he’s funny? Link barely trusted himself to speak in his flustered state.
“I.. just prefer to stay on my belly for now.”
“Oh.. I.. Gotcha.”
Good, he’s catching on!
But was that a good thing? Or was that.. the most embarrassing thing ever?
“Bodies respond to relaxation in all kinds of ways,” the masseur commented, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. “Some people doze off, or drool, or pass gas..”
Link groaned. No longer the groan of a man enjoying his free deep tissue massage; this was the groan of a man completely and irredeemably mortified.
“An erection can actually be a good sign, it means you actually managed to relax. Which, seems like something you might have been concerned about when you first got here. Trust me, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything more than that.”
Link appreciated what the guy was saying, but he happened to know better in this instance.
“I’ll keep my hands and eyes above the belt, and it doesn’t have to be awkward. It doesn’t happen every time, but it certainly happens.”
Link wondered if it would be weirder if he didn’t turn over now. The massage therapist had just told Link that his boner didn’t mean anything to him. By refusing to be cool about it, was Link essentially just revealing how much it did mean to him?? Would the guy realize that Link had been being a pervert about things, and that it wasn’t as simple as his body’s natural response to relaxing?
Or would he think that Link didn’t trust him to be a professional?
Link’s desperation to appear chill - desperation being a direct contradiction to what he was trying to achieve - resulted in Link taking a breath, clinging to his towel for dear life and rolling over onto his back.
When he was in a.. sturdy position, he just closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the reaction (or arguably worse, the lack thereof) of the masseur.
It felt like they were starting from scratch with loosening the tension in Link’s muscles - he’d gotten himself all wound up again. His boner had pretty much deflated by now, he’d noticed. Some time having passed helped; as did the guy calling his erection ‘meaningless’.
Eventually, they were back on track with a professional dynamic of one dude just massaging the other’s shoulders. And neck, arms, and pecs.
Link couldn’t believe all of the places that the man was discovering on his body that Link hadn’t known were so simultaneously tight and tender.
He gave himself over to the touch, keeping his eyes closed. He became so relaxed he began to let small moans escape his lips, which.. he knew that was probably not professional on his part. But the massage deepened, and moved down the flank of his body until the hands paused near Link’s towel, and..
Oh no..
The blood flow had returned. And he felt the towel.. move!
Link’s breath hitched, and at the same time another small, barely audible, whimpering moan was uttered.
This time it had not come from Link.
The massage therapist paused.
“I am so sorry,” the masseur said. His voice seemed to have changed since the last time he spoke. “I was being sincere when I said that this does happen. Not all the time, but not infrequently. But.. I have always, always been able to maintain a professional boundary. I know myself well enough to know when I feel that slipping. I can get another therapist to finish the massage. Or even refund your money?”
Link murmured, breath with scarcely any voice behind it. “I told you, it was a gift certificate.”
“I’m so embarrassed. I..”
“It’s my fault,” Link said quickly. “I shoulda done more research on massage etiquette before coming here. I’m like a walking awkward situation.”
“I’m supposed to be the professional, though.”
“You were great! I.. I have never felt that kind of relaxation before. I’ve never felt so.. in my body. I mean, people say that: ‘In my body.’ And I never have any idea what the crap they’re talking about! But I think I have a clue now.”
“That’s great. I think you should treat yourself to them frequently. You must have a stressful job. Or something that’s got you all knotted up. I just.. I know I can’t be your massage therapist.”
“I can do better! I’ll have my head on straight next time, now that I know what to expect.”
“But I won’t.”
“I.. You.. You what?”
“I want to hear about why you’re so stressed out. I want to know how soon you might come back. These are shitty boundaries. I wanna tell you my name. And I wanna rush out front to the appointment book to find out yours. I wanna.. not lose my job. So I won’t tell you what else I wanna do. And will leave it as, I can’t have you as a client.”
Link couldn’t repress his grin. I knew my hard-on wasn’t meaningless.
“I’ll make one thing easier on you,” Link told him. “Hand me my pants?”
The man did as Link requested, following the gesture up with a clarification. “Just.. wait for me to leave before you start getting dressed. I’m s’posed to leave the room for both undressing and dressing. Might as well get this last bit right.”
Link fished a business card out of the wallet tucked into his pants.
“Save yourself a conspicuous trip to the appointment book,” Link said, handing the card to his former masseur. “My name is Link. And my phone number is on the cars. I figure, we’ve already done such a poor job with professional boundaries.. What’s this one last breach?”
The man held the card, and his bearded jaw fell softly open. He turned the card over in his skilled fingertips. And he turned Link’s name over his mouth. “Link.. Link Neal.”
Link wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. The man said the massage was over. He also said Link wasn’t supposed to get dressed in front of him. But the man wasn’t leaving.
“I can use this? To call you? To.. see you?”
Link chuckled. It was a relief that this man who had been so calm and composed, was finally letting some of his humanity seep through the cracks - and reveal himself to be almost as flustered as Link had been. It made Link feel like he had the upper hand for once - Link had more experience in being awkward! He knew his way around an uncomfortable situation.
“Yeah, you can. But only for the most unprofessional reasons.” Link chanced a wink.
“I don’t have any more clients tonight. I just have to stay to help clean and close down. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”
“Text my number when you can, and I’ll give you my address?”
“Wow. This is. Everything I’m not supposed to do with clients.”
Link shrugged. “I guess you’ve lost a client.”
But what had they gained?
“Okay.. okay. I’ll, uh. Leave so you can get dressed, and I’ll, um.. I’ll text you for your address.”
“Perfect.”
“Perfect. This feels okay by you?”
“I feel great,” Link assured him. And he meant it.
“Great. I feel great too.”
“We’re both great!”
“Ha..” the man laughed awkwardly.
His posture had grown kind of squirmy, as if he was trying to make himself petite. Which would have been impossible. As he was, again, the tallest man Link had ever seen - outside of his television screen, during a basketball game. But the implication of the body language - that he was smaller, that he wasn’t a threat, that he wasn’t trying to use his size (or the power dynamic of Link being his client) to take advantage.
“I’ll get dressed then?” Link prompted.
“Right! Okay,” the masseur turned to leave, turning back one more time. “My name’s Rhett by the way.”
“Rhett. I’ll remember that.” Link said, unable to keep the blush from resurfacing across his cheeks as he remembered the rest of the corny old joke of a pickup line: because I’ll be screaming it later.
Link had had less than an hour before Rhett was knocking at his door. Considering Link’s apartment was always clean - Link was a clean freak by nature, but he was also extremely busy putting in a lot of hours at work; so he had a cleaning service come by once a week to routinely keep the place to his comfort level of clean - and he’d already showered and shaved, less than an hour to wait felt like several days.
Link had become cyclically paranoid that Rhett wouldn’t show. I mean, it would have been reasonable for Rhett to change his mind. How weird and creepy must Link have appeared? Showing up with no massage etiquette, getting hard multiple times during a massage, and then inviting Rhett back to his place? Link cringed. He thought Rhett had seemed interested at the time, but the more minutes passed between their interaction and the present moment, the more Link began to doubt his recollection of things.
So Link was feeling a blend of relief, excitement, and (who would he be if there wasn’t some degree of) anxiety as he rushed to open the door.
Rhett looked.. different. His hair that had been so elegantly tied behind his head in a neat bun now hung in loose curls, framing his handsome bearded face.
He had been dressed in a very woo, pure white linen outfit head to toe at the spa. But now he looked infinitely more casual. He wore jeans and an old concert tee. It was like he’d transformed into a completely different person.
Link liked this new person. He felt more relatable. Link wasn’t sure he would know how to handle himself if Rhett was into teas and rituals and meditation and all the things that the spa had reminded him of. Link had pretty much proved that during the massage. But jeans and a t-shirt was something Link felt like he understood.
He suddenly felt very self conscious about the fact that he hadn’t changed into something more relatable himself. He was still in his dang suit!
“Hey..” Rhett said, the awkwardness picking up right where they’d left off at the spa.
“Oh jeez!” Link had been staring at Rhett and hadn’t invited him in. “Come in, please.”
Rhett smiled, and looked around the apartment. “Wow. This place is.. nice. I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to touch anything.”
Link shrugged, again feeling self conscious. Maybe he was the unrelatable one in this situation. “Thought we left those ‘no touching’ rules behind us?”
Rhett chuckled, but then cleared his throat, putting on a serious tone for a moment. “I maybe shoulda clarified my intentions before we left, actually.”
“Okay..”
“I don’t, like.. do more, or um.. I dunno, ‘happy ending’ massages? Like, for money. Whether or not I’m officially at work. I wasn’t looking for anything.. transactional.” Rhett chuckled and tucked a chunk of hair behind his ear. “I mean, I know I’m pretty. But I wasn’t looking to be anybody’s Pretty Woman.”
Link's jaw hung loose in disbelief. He wasn’t sure which part to address first. “That’s a.. movie reference, right?”
“You haven’t watched Pretty Woman?”
Link shrugged. “My movie watching resume is like swiss cheese. I think there’s enough pop culture osmosis around that movie that’s happened for me to get your meaning though. And that wasn’t what I wanted to do. Buy some time with you.. I’m really sorry if I gave that vibe.”
“No, no, you didn’t. I was thinking maybe I gave that vibe by making so many comments about your expensive clothes and stuff. But it wasn’t really the clothes that made me break professionalism.”
“I hadn’t really noticed the comments about money. Sometimes things go over my head.. pretty easily.” Link thought for a moment. “What made you.. ‘break’, or whatever?”
Rhett seemed to really be mulling that over. “I think it was just how vulnerable you were being. And shy. Like, you’re rich, handsome, with this incredible body - yet you carried yourself as if.. you didn’t know about any of that? I don’t know if I’m explaining it right, but it was so.. charming. Like. The idea that you still don’t know how easily anyone could fall for you? Unbelievable.”
The same heat and attraction that had compelled Link to give Rhett his name and number back at the spa had been rekindled in Link’s apartment.
“Can I kiss you?” Link asked, desperation making his voice waver.
Rhett leaned down to press his lips against Link’s. It only took Link a moment to reorient himself to the fact that this was no longer an environment that required Link to stifle the sounds of pleasure that welled up inside him when Rhett’s tongue invited itself inside his mouth. Link moaned freely and loudly. Rhett replied with hot puffs of breath and a low rumbling of deep groans.
“You are incredibly hot,” Rhett husked against Link’s swollen lips when they pulled back for air. “I wanna get my hands on your body again. And I wanna not have to hide how much I like it.”
“You don’t have to leave the room when I undress.”
“I’m not inclined to provide you with any towels,” Rhett smiled.
“Well, that’s just fine. I’m not inclined to hide how hard your touch makes me.”
“I do want to massage you again, though. Like, without the restrictions. Would that be okay?”
Link nodded.
“Is there somewhere I can.. lay you down?”
“Um, nothing exactly the height of a massage table. But I guess my couch. Or my bed.”
“Bed sounds.. spacious.”
Link led Rhett back to his bedroom.
“So now there’s no rules and no towels.”
“There’s always rules,” Rhett clarified. “You tell me if I’m crossing any lines.”
“Okay, but.. So, do you get naked too?”
“Eventually,” Rhett smirked. “It might be helpful.”
“I meant for the massage part.”
“Do you want me naked for the massage part?”
Link was finding it harder to breathe evenly. “Yeah, I think I do.”
Rhett took off his shirt and Link took a long inhale. Drinking in the sight of Rhett without a shirt.
“Wow..”
“Ha. Thanks.”
“Sorry if that was weird.”
Rhett shrugged. “I’m glad you like what you see.”
Link shrugged out of his jacket and unbuttoned his button down with trembling fingers. Not quite as easy as Rhett simply popping his t-shirt off..
“You in a hurry?” Rhett asked gently.
Link paused. “Not particularly.”
“Then take your time.”
Rhett covered Link’s shaky fingers with his own, slowing Link’s movements as he unbuttoned his shirt. One by one. Finally, helping Link out of the shirt and stepping in close enough that Link could feel the heat from Rhett’s body against his own.
Link was already hard as Rhett’s hands drifted down to unfasten his belt, and peel his pants and underwear down his thighs.
Link helped to get his pants the rest of the way off, conscious not to appear rushed about it.
Link lay down on his bed, relieved that Rhett had brought his own massage oils. Rhett peeled himself out of his own jeans and joined Link, naked on his bed.
“Tell me if I go too far,” Rhett told him.
What Link really wanted was for Rhett to be inside of him, so he didn’t think he’d need to be telling him anything. But he nodded anyway.
It was incredibly easy to relax into Rhett’s touch, now that he didn’t need to be preoccupied with Rhett figuring out where Link’s head was at. Now that it was out in the open, and mutual. Link closed his eyes and melted under Rhett’s touch. If it felt good, he moaned. He softly cursed. He sighed Rhett’s name. He felt his cock harden to the point of leaking. He felt it twitch in appreciation for Rhett’s touch, hungry for something more direct. Rhett slowly worked his way from crown to hips.
Link couldn’t resist bucking his hips a little.
“Can you be patient for me?” Rhett asked. His voice was changed. Low, raw. Link could tell Rhett wanted this at least as badly as Link did. If Rhett could control his need, so could Link.
Link’s breath hitched as Rhett spread his legs a little more than shoulder width. With a generous amount of oil, Rhett began to rub at the inside of Link’s thighs. And his hip flexors. Everywhere around it, but not quite where Link’s needed him.
Link wasn’t above letting out a pathetic little whimper.
Rhett’s thick digits found their way further between Link’s thighs and between his cheeks. Link instinctually spread himself wider for Rhett, and openly groaned with relief and ecstasy when Rhett finally pressed his fingers inside.
Link slowly took him in and rocked against him.
“So hungry,” Rhett said in a low growl.
“More..” Link whined.
“Deeper?” Rhett said, an edge of teasing in his voice.
“Please!”
Rhett slowly pressed his fingers inside, moving them and stretching Link. Giving him time to get comfortable.
“I’m ready,” Link begged. “I want you.”
Link peeked to watch Rhett slick himself up as he continued to work his fingers inside of Link. Rhett’s large hand lazily worked its way up and down his swollen length.
Link wanted Rhett everywhere at once. He wanted to touch him, he wanted to swallow his shaft until he gagged. But what he wanted most was - and what he was peripherally aware that he was begging for in a slurred, babbling litany of desperation - was,
“Fuck me fuck me fuck me..”
His breath came to a halt as he felt Rhett’s head knock against his stretched hole, and slowly press deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. Link’s back arched as he felt himself taking Rhett further and further inside. The sensation made Link’s jaw drop wider as he was stretched wider.
“Nnnnnnngh.. Rhett..”
“Good?” Rhett’s breath puffed as sweat began to roll down his face.
“God yes.”
Rhett smoothly sank into Link, his hands ran up and down Link’s body, subtly rubbing areas where Link would tense up. The more Link relaxed, the deeper he was able to feel Rhett. And the easier Rhett seemed to move inside him. The way that Rhett moved had Link’s eyes rolling back into his head.
“I love your body..” Rhett told him in a low, tight voice.
Link thought Rhett sounded like he might fall over the edge any second. He was torn between wanting to feel Rhett come, but not wanting it to be over. He thought about Rhett pulling out of him and his stomach sank.
“Don’t stop..” Link whimpered.
“I don’t want to, but I can’t last much longer.”
Link’s arms folded up against Rhett’s back; his fingers threaded through his loose curls, damp with sweat. Long, lean legs wrapped around Rhett’s body.
Rhett rocked against Link’s hips once more before going conspicuously still.
Link couldn’t help smiling as he listened to Rhett’s shuddering breaths against his ear.
He gasped when he felt Rhett’s hand wrap around his cock and begin to stroke him. His grip was strong, but his hand was soft and sure and it did not take long before Link was bucking into Rhett’s hand and dribbling over the edges of his fist.
“I shoulda used that gift certificate sooner,” Link sighed happily.
“Maybe don’t wait so long to get your next massage?”
“It’s good for more than just the one, huh?”
Rhett mirrored Link’s blissed out smile. “House calls only. I need to keep my job.”
“You wanna stay a while?” Link asked, mildly self conscious about being too clingy.
“If you want that.. I mean, I want that.”
Rhett’s stomach growled, and Link laughed.
“I’ll order us some food. You like Chinese?”
“Absolutely.”
“You can use the bathroom just on the left there, and I’ll get cleaned up in the bathroom in my room. I don’t know if I have much that fits you - there are some robes in the closet that are ‘one size fits most’. You’re definitely not ‘most’, but,” Link shrugged. “You can see if that’s comfortable.”
“Robes, huh?” Rhett looked slightly amused. “I don’t typically lounge around in robes.”
“Well,” Link said with a quick wink before disappearing down the hall toward his bedroom. “Maybe I’m not ready for you to be dressed..”