Steve set the box of tissues he was carrying around on the kitchen counter when he heard the door bell ring. Grumbling his way to the door, he seriously considered not opening it. He was sick, hacking up a lung, blowing his nose constantly and he did not feel like having visitors right now.
Looking through the peephole, Steve saw Grant’s distorted face carrying a bowl of something. He sighed. How could he not open the door for Grant? “Hey,” he said as the door swung open.
Grant triumphantly held up the bowl. “Hey! I come bearing homemade chicken noodle soup!” He brushed past Steve and took the bowl into the kitchen, putting it in the fridge. Steve followed him silently.
Grant turned around and surveyed the ill man. Steve, now being self-conscious looked down at himself. He was in his boxers, an old TAPS shirt and his bathrobe. Shit. He quickly tied his bathrobe shut. “What?”
Grant shook his head. “You look terrible, man.”
Steve coughed. “Yeah, well. Next time you get sick, we’ll see how much of a rock star you look like.”
Grant smiled and pulled a dvd box out of his cargo shorts. “I’ve come to keep you company for the day. No sense in you being alone and grumbly.”
Steve grumbled as Grant took his hand and led him over to the couch. “No, really. I appreciate the soup, but you don’t have to stay.” Grant shoved him down on the couch and went to put in the dvd. Steve couldn’t resist perusing the round ass displayed in front of him as Grant bent over the dvd player.
The previews started to play as Grant made his way back to the couch, plopping down heavily next to Steve, who turned to him. “So, what are we watching?”
“Shaun of the Dead!” Steve groaned. He should have known. Grant put his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be fun! Dude, your shoulders are tense.”
He laughed. “Grant, my entire body is tense. I’ve been sneezing and coughing for four days!”
Grant got up and faced the younger man. “Ok, take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”
“What?” Ok, now Steve was confused.
Grant sighed and rolled his eyes. “I said, take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”
“Are you going to molest me?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head, watching Grant go into the bathroom for lotion.
He smiled. “You’ll enjoy it. Now lay down!”
The movie started as Steve felt Grant straddle his legs. Wet hands ran up his back and around his shoulders. Softly he moaned in pleasure. Ok, this was exactly what he needed. Grant worked slowly, rubbing his thumbs down his spine, working on all of the tense muscles and distraught nerves. Hot breath hit his ear. “Steve, your body is on fire,” Grant whispered. He choked back a moan as he felt his cock twitch and harden in his boxers.
Those warm hands worked down Steve’s arms, rubbing out the tired muscles, down to his fingers. They worked back up his shoulders and around his neck. Steve made a mental note to himself that he needed to hit Grant up for massages from now on. One hand stayed on his neck, fingers rubbing in soothing circles, as the other knuckled its way down his spinal cord.
He felt Grant’s weight shift and both hands were removed from his body. Steve closed his eyes, silently wishing that it wasn’t really over and that he did not have to flip over. There was no way he was going to be able to hide how his body had reacted to the rub down. Grant’s hands reappeared at Steve’s hips, fingering the elastic band of his boxer shorts. “Lift up,” he whispered.
He wasn’t quite sure why, but he obeyed, lifting his hips off the couch so Grant could pull his boxers down and off his legs. Steve heard the squeeze of the lotion bottle again as the wet hands returned, this time working their magic on his calves and up his thighs. He buried his burning red face into the couch cushions. Here he was, naked on his own couch, with Grant Wilson fully clothed giving him a full body massage. He felt Grant return to the couch, straddling him once again. Steve’s eyes flung open. That was definitely skin to skin contact. He could feel Grant’s naked legs against his and … oh my God. Grant kissed up Steve’s back to his ear. “Feeling better yet?”
Steve opened his mouth, but words were not coming out. He moaned deeply as Grant lay on top of him, placing kisses along his shoulder blade, running his hands down his arms, lacing their fingers together. He ground his hips back against the older man’s. Yup, that was definitely Grant’s hard cock between his ass cheeks.
He felt Grant smile into his neck. “Like your massage that much?”
“As much as you liked giving it, obviously.” Ha! Words! Witty words! Steve was proud of himself thinking through the haze of Grant over him and the feel of the friction on his cock pressing into the couch.
Grant pushed Steve’s leg off the couch, opening him up for access. He heard the squeeze of the lotion bottle again and closed his eyes. Grant’s fingers pushed against him and his cock twitched as they found entry. Burying his face back into the couch cushions, Steve nearly screamed. He could feel himself sweating now and he didn’t think it was from the fever. Slowly Grant’s fingers worked inside of him, stretching and scissoring. Moaning, Steve ground against the intruding fingers, desiring them to hit that one spot. But he was denied. The fingers were removed and replaced by Grant’s weeping cock. Steve’s hands grasped onto the couch as he felt himself being entered painstakingly slow. Grant pushed his cock in, inch by inch, living in the feel of the muscle working against him.
Bracing himself on the frame of the couch, Grant started to slowly move his hips, pumping himself in and out of the younger man. Steve’s fingers worked on the material of the couch. He opened up his legs more, putting his knee down on the floor, silently urging him to move faster. Grant complied, shifting his hips, rocking Steve’s hips down into the couch. With each thrust, Steve groans intensified. For a fleeting moment he thought about his neighbors, but when the blunt head of Grant’s cock connected with his prostate he didn’t care anymore. He screamed out his lover’s name, feeling his balls tense. “God, I’m so close,” he groaned.
Grant’s pace quickened, his balls smacking wetly against Steve’s. He felt the man beneath him tense, the muscles tightening around his cock signaling orgasm. Grant groaned, feeling himself let go.
Steve just closed his eyes, feeling Grant get up. His entire body had been relaxed from the wonderful massage and the intense orgasm. He jumped a little when Grant started to clean him off with a tissue, wiping the cum away. A cool wet washcloth was wiped against his forehead, taking away the sweat. Grant kissed him on the forehead. “Feel better?”
Steve smiled at him. “A massage and an orgasm is so much better than homemade chicken noodle soup.”