Joe snorts, giving Chuck a shove in the shoulder before closing the door in his face. The heat has found its way to David’s ears now. He fixes the mess at the back of his head and tries to look preoccupied as Joe re-locks the door and turns back towards the bed.
“See?” Joe says, shrugging. “Just Chuck.”
David doesn’t know what to say to that. He reaches for the discarded paperback and flips through it, trying to locate where he was before Joe graciously lost his page. His face is still flaming. The silence between them is pulled taut like a rubber band, then Joe sighs.
“What?” he says, sounding a bit irritated at David’s shift in mood. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” David says.
Joe scoffs. “Bullshit.”
He walks over to the bed and settles between David’s open legs, taking the book from him and tossing it aside yet again. David huffs, even as Joe’s hand settles on his jaw. He ushers David’s head back so their eyes meet. A smirk breaks out on his face.
“Damn, Web,” Joe says. He ushers David’s chin to the side, thumbing at his cheek. “You’re so Red you should be in Berlin.”
“Ugh, Joe,” David says, pulling away from his splayed fingers. “Don’t.”
Joe drops his hand from David’s jaw, still grinning, and twists his index finger in the front of his shirt. David lets him do it for some reason. Despite his embarrassment, he’s still partly hard.
“Don’t what?” Joe asks, teasing.
He draws a suggestive line down David’s chest to his stomach, then keeps going until he gets to his groin. He palms David’s cock through his pants. It twitches in interest.
“Hell,” Joe continues. “If I didn’t know any better, sweetheart, I’d say you wanted him to join us.”
David’s stomach swims at the suggestion, and he’s not sure whether the feeling is discomforting, or whether he’s discomforted that he’s feeling anything at all.
“Screw you,” David says and wriggles out of Joe’s grip, getting off the bed and scooping the book back up again.
