He’d spent the night repeatedly remembering Mason in that clingy bath towel, sauntering into the doorway of his bedroom, and standing there with one armpit exposed to the air as he leaned against the doorframe. He had fantasized about the towel dropping away, and just the suggestion of the man’s package had put Chris over the moon. He hadn’t had that hard of a jack off session in months, and he slept deeply, sore as hell from his workout, but also more relaxed and satisfied than he could remember. More than that, he couldn’t wait to see Mason again. Yeah, he was hot to look at - damn hot - but it was just nice to meet someone with whom he could talk, who understood what it was like to deal with a hateful ex, even if he was straight. Plus, he seemed so comfortable in his skin; he didn’t mind that Chris was gay and didn’t show the least bit of hesitation in working with him. Or walking into his bedroom topless with cum on his chin. Other people might have been alarmed to find out some stranger had jacked off in their shower, but if the stranger was this fucking gorgeous, Chris would invite him into the bathroom any day of the week.
