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"You smell so good," Benny said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "You have no idea what you smell like."
Dean's laugh was shaky. "I got a pretty good idea, actually. I've been smelling myself all day. I've been dripping since you brought me that pie."
The image hit Benny square in the gut. Dean, sitting in that booth, pretending to scroll through his phone while his body grew wetter and wetter, his slick soaking through his boxers, his hole clenching around nothing while he watched Benny work. Wanting him. Waiting for him.
"You're gonna kill me," Benny said.
"Not before you fuck me, I hope." -
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