#ver2

"I want you to watch me jerk off" it read, followed by another one saying, "And you can't touch."

It wasn't that hard to agree to. Rico loves when Max is feeling good. Loves seeing him turned on, loves how hard and pink he gets, loves to see him come. And now, he would get to just sit back and watch. Take everything in, every detail, every sound, without anything distracting him. Like his own personal porn, except it's Max, live and loud in their bed.

Max takes one last look at Rico, eyeing him up and down, before he climbs on the bed. Rico is already on it, kneeling with his thighs spread and facing the pillows, where Max is mirroring his pose.

Rico takes a moment to admire him, raking his eyes over Max. His broad shoulders and toned arms, his full chest that tapers off into a narrow waist that can easily fit between Rico's hands. Max's stomach is soft, even softer now that it's the start of the winter break. Usually, a messy strip of dark hair is nestled under his bellybutton, but today the skin is shaved smooth — there's nothing to cover Max's cock, already pink and just starting to get hard, and Rico wonders if that's the reason Max shaved. No barrier between Rico's eyes and his cock.

Rico swallows the spit that's pooled in his mouth. 

"Okay," Max starts, sitting more comfortably on the pillows. "Hands on your thighs."

Rico dutifully follows the order, placing his hands just above his knees. There's a thrill of anticipation already building inside him, from having Max be in control.

Max scratches his earlobe — a sign that he's nervous. 

"Okay?" Rico asks. 

Max nods, then leans in for a quick kiss, that Rico gladly returns.

With a deep breath, Max says, "Okay. I'm starting now."  

It's a little stilted at first, just Max trailing his fingers up his thighs, then down his arms and chest. Ricostill  finds it beautiful. How Max's body, welded in a sport with high speeds and sharp corners, remains soft and almost fragile.

He follows the path Max's neat fingers draw on his body, transfixed by the invisible lines they make. Max seems to relax into it too, body slowly losing its previous high-strung energy.

Max trails his fingers up his chest, then brings them to his nipples, rubbing in slow, firm circles. He's always been so sensitive there, especially when Rico sucks them into his mouth or uses his stubble to scratch the sensitive skin. Even now, Max takes a shuddered breath as he tugs and pinches his nipples. Rico watches how red and hard they get. lf he could, he would bite on the bud, then soothe it with his tongue. But he can't, he's not allowed to.

Max's chest is flushed, rising and falling as he pants. He slowly moves his fingers lower, tracing the lines of his stomach. Rico watches, feeling as it's him being touched and not Max. As Max's fingers glide down, the buzzing feeling in his groin spreads, and Rico holds his breath, anticipating Max to finally circle his fingers around his cock.

But instead, Max skips his crotch  completely, moving to scratch his nails through the light hair on his thighs. Rico fights the desperate noise that threatens to escape his throat, instead focusing on the soft skin in the crease of Max's hip. Rico imagines crawling between Max's spread legs and covering the inside of his thighs with bites and bruises. He knows Max likes to press on them when they're away.

Finally, Max moves his fingers up, but once again he avoids his cock. 

This time, Rico can't fight the mournful noise he makes. Max's cock is hard now, pink and already wet at the tip. It's practically begging to be touched, and Rico can almost taste the precome on his tongue. 

Rico misses the moment Max starts touching his nipples again, so the breathy whimper he makes catches him off guard. With a jolt, he tears his eyes away from Max's cock to look at his face.

Max's cheeks are flushed pink, and his plush bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he stares down at his chest in concentration, long eyelashes fluttering when he twists his nipples hard.

Rico's whole body is thrumming with energy, extra sensitive in a way he's never felt before. When Max traces his stomach again, it's like Rico is feeling it on his own skin — the slow, feather-light glide of his fingertips.

With a bated breath, he watches Max's hand move lower, past his belly button and the freckle Rico likes to kiss, down to the base of his dick.

They both shudder when Max's fingers finally circle around his cock. His grasp is loose, not even fully touching the skin . If it was Rico's hands, his palms would hide Max's dick completely, with the tip barely peeking out between his fingers. Sometimes, Rico likes to just hold it in his fist, while slowly rubbing the head with his thumb. 

A drop of precome pools from the slit, then slowly slides down the shaft and onto Max's fingers. He always gets so wet, but watching it happen now, especially when he can't touch, feels like an out of body experience; Rico can't tear his eyes away, his body is coiled tight, every nerve buzzing as he waits for Max's next move. Max's cock keeps weeping, drops of precome sliding down his delicate fingers and onto the sheets below. 

Rico's hands itch to touch, he can't stand looking at Max's cock, so pink and pretty, untouched and teased like this. Max deserves to be touched — if Rico could only get his hands on him, or maybe his mouth. 

With his left hand circled loosely around the root, Max brings his left one to the tip. He fits his fingers around it. Momentarily, Rico feels relief — finally, Max is going to touch himself, stroke his dick, get himself off. 

But instead, Max uses the tips of his fingers to slide down the foreskin — it exposes his cockhead even more, wet and glistening under the dimmed lights. When Rico edges Max for too long, his eyes get like this too — teary, sad, desperate.

Rico watches as Max plays with the skin, pulls it down, then up again, and down once more. It can't feel good, Rico thinks, not enough friction to get off, with how wet everything is. But Max seems to love it, panting and whimpering as he pushes his fingers down again.

Breathing heavily, Rico continues to watch, transfixed. He doesn’t think Max ever did something like this before – it feels so intimate, so delicate. Max’s face is focused, a furrow between his brows, but his eyes are hazy with pleasure.

Rico’s face is burning, but he can't think about it right now, not when Max is bringing is other hand to the head of his cock. Rico groans when Max uses two of his fingers to rub on the slit. He lets out small these breathy gasps as he slowly teases it with the tips of his fingers,  as if what he's doing feels too sensitive, but he can't stop. Rico can imagine, can practically feel the sparks of pleasure on his own cock.

Suddenly, Max moans, "Rico, you can't-" he gasps, "stop moving."

It takes so long for Rico to understand what heis saying, words slowly sinking through his head like honey. Confused, he looks down and. Oh. 

His hips are moving — small little jerks like he's humping the air. He doesn't know when he started doing it.

It's like there's a disconnection between his mind and his body — Rico tells himself to stop,but his hips don't slow their canting movement. He watches as his dick, rock-hard and angry red, bobs under its weight with the motion. A thin string of precome stretches down from the tip, and Rico can see a big translucent-wet puddle on the sheets. 

That's right – Rico thinks, strangely disconnected – he likes to save it when Max is away. It makes sense there will be a lot.

In front of him, Max moans again, and suddenly Rico is being slammed back into his body. He gasps, feeling the insistent throbbing in his balls, sees his dick jerk as another fat drop of precome slides from the slit. 

He doesn't remember ever being this turned on. It's like he's on the verge of an orgasm, the molten feeling in his gut keeps building and building, and he groans again, but it doesn't stop. Desperate, Rico looks up.

Max's chest is vivid pink, rising quickly as he continues to rub his cockhead. It looks like he still hasn't come. 

"Max," Rico rasps, "Max, schat, please. Let me touch you."

Max looks up, cheeks flushed and lips bitten red. His eyes are bright blue.

He shakes his head.

Rico whimpers. "Please-" he takes a ragged breath, "sweetheart, please, let me touch."

"No touching," Max rasps, pulling both of his hands away from his dick. There's a sob caught in Rico's throat. 

"Liefje, Max, alsjeblieft, let me- please. Can I touch?” Rico begs.

This time, Max doesn’t reply, instead turning away to search under the pillows. Rico takes gasping breaths, listening to the way the sheets rustle as he cants his hips. His dick keeps throbbing, but all he can think of is Max’s cock – pink and pretty, now neglected because Rico is not allowed to touch. Max deserves to feel good, always, no matter what.

Max turns back to him, and another whimper escapes Rico’s throat. He has something in his hand, and when Rico looks closer, he realizes it’s a–

A moan rips out of Rico’s chest. It’s a vibrator, one of the few they own – small and baby blue and soft to the touch. Max holds it in his palm, running his thumb on the rounded tip. His hand looks big around the toy, but if it was Rico’s dick, Max’s hand would look so small compared to it. 

Rico feels his dick jerk, feels how tight and full his balls are. If it was Rico’s cock in Max’s hand, Max would stroke it, would use his other hand to touch his balls, would lean in and lick at the slit with his tongue. 

Delirious, Rico watches as Max takes the vibrator and rubs it on his nipples. The toy is not even on. The soft silicone probably feels nice on Max’s sensitive skin.

Rico breathes open-mouthed, feeling like a star that’s about to explode. He’s trembling with how he is trying not to touch, and his dick keeps throbbing. He wants to stroke it to soothe the feeling, but grips his thighs tighter instead. He’s not allowed to touch.

“Max, Max, Max,” Rico begs, but he doesn’t know for what anymore.

Slowly, Max brings the vibrator to his dick. He still hasn’t turned it on. Rico freezes, his world narrowing down to Max rubbing the toy on his cockhead. He watches Max’s cock jerk, sees the precome that clings to the baby blue silicone. 

Everything stops. 

Until Max presses the button, and the buzzing sound feels the air.

Rico sees the way Max’s cock jumps, then the molten feeling overwhelms him – he moans, loud and startled, snapping his head down in confusion just to realize he’s coming.

His dick kicks and jerks, spilling come untouched all over the sheets. Rico squirms, arching his back and humping the air as if it would somehow help. It goes on and on, and by the time Rico slumps down, the sheets, his thighs and hands – everything is covered in milky white. 

Head spinning, Rico takes deep breaths, trying to calm down, until he remembers Max. He looks up, and sees the same shocked expression on Max’s face. 

Another small noise leaves Rico’s throat, and Max’s face softens.

“Rico,” he says, and then Rico is being tugged into a hug.

They fall back on the pillows, with Rico’s arms around Max’s waist and face hidden in his neck. Rico breathes in the familiar scent of Max’s sweat, feels the warmth of his skin, the quickened beating of his heart.

He doesn’t know how long they lay like that, with Rico trying to catch his breath while Max slowly pets his hair, but by the time he stops feeling like he’s about to float away, the come on his thighs becomes tacky and dry.

“Okay?” Max asks, scraping his nails through the hair on Rico’s nape. 

Rico grunts into his neck, wishing they could stay like this forever, until Max shifts under him, and suddenly Rico doesn’t remember if he came or not.

He shoots up, moving away enough to see Max’s crotch, only to sag back down when he sees Max’s cock, spent and covered in come by his thigh. 

“When did you…” Rico starts, looking up at Max.

Max’s expression is sheepish, when he replies, “After you did. I didn’t know you can do that,” he adds with a blush high on his cheeks.

Rico groans, sliding back down his body. “I didn’t either. It was…” he pauses, looking for words, but both English and Dutch betray him, “Crazy.”

“Crazy good or crazy bad?” he asks, letting Rico to easily spread his legs.

“Good,” Rico replies.

“So can we do th-”