Pisces Floors Taurus

Beckett laid the shower curtain over the bathtub and crossed over to him. Blue eyes simmered with fondness, lust, and shyness—something he wasn’t used to in Beckett.
Beckett laid a warm hand over the side of Zane’s neck. His thumb tapped with the rapid beat of his heart. A question brewed in his gaze, and the answer was yes, yes, yes! But Zane’s throat dried, and he croaked.
Flustered, he broke their connection, scooped up the empty box, and shifted it from arm to arm.
“We should put the curtain up.” Zane peeked inside the cardboard box. Just a bunch of screwed up packing paper. “Shit. No shower rings.”
Beckett frowned. “I’ll order some. Should arrive tomorrow.”
Zane slumped his shoulders and followed. For weeks he’d tossed out romantic opportunity after romantic opportunity. Beckett hadn’t so much as nipped at the bait.
Now he had, and Zane had gutted it.

Zane winced at the loss when Beckett slipped out of him. He hugged him tighter. “That felt very . . . “
“Satisfying?” Beckett fished.
“Pertinent.”
Beckett buried his face in his neck and their stomachs slid together with oil and come. “God, I love you.”

The breach felt insanely good. “I can’t believe you never told me you love to top,” Zane groaned.
Beckett swatted his hand away and took over teasing his hole. “It didn’t seem . . . pertinent.”
Kill Zane now. “You used that big word on purpose, didn’t you?”
“What? Pertinent?” Beckett said innocently.
Zane scowled into a punishing kiss. “You know I love it when you use clever words.” And that one sounded particularly perky and pointy and penis-tenty.