Del kissed him on the forehead. “You okay, baby?”
Justin blinked dozily at him. “When can we do that again?”
Del laughed again, and leaned in to brush their lips together. “Whenever you like, babe.”
Whenever he liked.
Justin was going to hold him to that. 14
In his marriage, Del had bottomed about ninety percent of the time. Was it his preference? No, not really. That had just been the dynamic between Clyde and him, and frankly, it had been the only dynamic that had worked for Clyde at all. He’d bottomed enough times that it was obvious he saw it somehow as…less, maybe. It got to a point where Clyde didn’t even enjoy it, and it had been obvious to Del that he could’ve, if he’d wanted to let himself.
The odd time he asked to bottom—usually drunk and a couple of times high—he’d gotten off spectacularly. But every morning after had been unpleasant and in the last couple of years, Del hadn’t bothered asking and Clyde hadn’t volunteered.