fic: Tanto Amore Segreto
Title: Tanto Amore Segreto
Fandom: Arrested Development
Word Count: 2,300
Pairing: Michael/Gob
Summary: Gob house-sits.
Rating: MA/NC-17/Adult
Warning: incest
Gob sat at the kitchen counter, a bottle of Crown Royal and a juice glass in front of him. Michael entered, setting his briefcase and coat down on the counter. Gob looked at him over the rim of the glass.
“Hey,” Michael greeted tiredly, more resigned than surprised to find his older brother making himself at home. “What’s going on?”
“I’m house-sitting,” Gob told him and took a generous swallow. “Lindsay asked me to since she and Tobias are on that thing.”
The ‘thing’ that Lindsay and Tobias were on was the Happy Vale Center’s Loving Couples Growing Together Marriage Retreat for couples who wanted to recommit to their marriage. Neither of them did, but neither wanted to admit that to Michael, who’d suggested the retreat as a joke.
“Huh,” Michael considered this piece of information. “You do know that I’m still here, right?”
Gob was unperturbed by this and shrugged elaborately. “Uh. Okay. Guess Lindsay didn’t trust you with the responsibility.”
“It’s my house,” Michael protested, brow wrinkling in annoyance.
“Hey, don’t argue with me-this is between you and Lindsay.” Gob swished the liquid around his glass. “Want a drink?” He pushed the bottle across the counter toward Michael.
Michael considered pursuing the argument but realized the futility. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”
Gob poured Michael a glass. “You know,” he observed, “after watching Mom all these years, you’d think I’d drink less.”
“Or more,” Michael said thoughtfully.
Gob addressed the bottle, stroking the label tenderly, “Alcohol, you make everything better.”
Michael nodded his agreement, mouth twisting at the bitter burn of the whiskey. “Is there any particular reason we’re drinking now?”
“Well, I was trying to swallow this key for my show,“ Gob fingered a key lying near the calendar, “but it’s larger than the handcuff key and my efforts didn’t go so well.”
“They never do.”
“I’ve still got a gag reflex.” Gob shrugged philosophically. “I’m really working to get past it.”
“A worthy goal,” Michael intoned. “One I’m sure Tobias shares with you.”
Gob looked at Michael blankly. “Why would Tobias care about swallowing...oh, I see. Yeah.” He laughed loudly. “That guy’s such a fairy. So do you think this retreat thing will help their marriage?” Gob finished, switching topics abruptly.
“Mmm, after your thoughtful assessment? No, I kind of doubt it.” Michael looked slightly shamefaced and amended, “But who knows-they made it this far.”
Gob reached out and tipped more of the bottle’s contents into Michael’s glass. Michael looked at it, as if surprised to find his glass refilled, but shrugged and took another swallow.
“Even my marriage wasn’t perfect,” he mused.
“Yeah, neither was mine.”
“Wasn’t a real marriage, Gob.”
“It was,” Gob protested, “until that bitch left me.”
“You never even slept-”
“Yes, I did!” Gob interrupted, “And she has the photos to prove it!”
“Fine,” Michael ceded with an eye-roll.
Gob slumped against the counter. “I wouldn’t wish the hell I’ve been through with my divorce on Lindsay. Or even Tobias,” he added generously.
“It’s just so hard to find someone,” Michael said into his glass. “And when you do either they’re not who you thought they were-”
Like Rita.
”-Or you’re not who they thought you were-”
And Marta.
“-Or both.”
And Maggie Lizer.
“Why is it this hard? There are millions of people out there-I can’t seem to find one,” Michael complained.
Gob nodded, commiserating. “Look at me-I’m an attractive, successful magician. Girls should be throwing themselves at me, but instead I’m stuck house-sitting and drinking booze with loser Michael.”
“Thanks,” Michael grimaced. “Appreciated.”
“No problem, Mikey, no problem.” Gob watched as Michael drained his glass.
Michael coughed, sputtering a bit. “This stuff’s pretty strong; I’ve got to be careful or I’m going to fall of my barstool.”
“You never could hold your liquor,” Gob chided as Michael pushed himself up unsteadily. He followed Michael out to the living room and when Michael sprawled out on the carpet, Gob followed suit, sitting with his back to the couch.
“We are one fucked up family, you know that?” Michael said, still facedown in the plush weave of the carpet. “Fucked up.”
“Yeah,” Gob agreed, more subdued. The alcohol had brought a flush to his face and he was feeling languid and pleasantly buzzed. He nudged Michael’s calf with a bare foot. Michael looked up and grinned goofily at him. Gob smiled back, pleased with his brother’s alcohol-induced approval.
Michael propped himself up on his elbows and then crawled over, collapsing against Gob’s side. He patted at Gob’s face affectionately.
“You’re a good brother,” he said, eyes bright and glassy.
“Thanks, Mikey,” Gob answered, pulling Michael into a one-armed embrace. The move nearly sent Michael over, but he put a hand on Gob’s chest, steadying himself.
“A way better brother than Buster.”
Michael, never as keen on physical affection as Gob, tried to push away from Gob’s embrace. Gob tightened his grasp and Michael relaxed after a moment, either giving in or forgetting why he was struggling. Michael’s head drooped and came to rest against Gob’s shoulder. Gob could feel Michael’s chest rise and fall next to his as Michael sighed and relaxed further.
“There, there,” Gob murmured, bringing his hand up to grasp the side of Michael’s neck lightly, Gob’s thumb resting against his cheek. The fingers of the hand resting on Gob’s chest curled slightly, gripping the fabric of his Hawaiian-print shirt. Gob rubbed a slow circle against Michael’s cheekbone. Michael stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on nothing. This close Gob could smell the understated aftershave his brother favored, his nose almost touching Michael’s ear.
Enjoying the rare opportunity to really hold his brother when he wasn’t tensed or flinching away, Gob let his hand drop from Michael’s face to his collarbone, brushing lightly across the skin exposed there. Michael felt hot, nearly feverish, even through the cotton of his dress shirt. He didn’t protest as Gob’s hand worked down his front, even remaining silent as Gob reached his waist. Only when Gob’s fingers hooked into his belt did he protest, grabbing Gob’s wrist and turning to look at him.
“What are you doing?” Michael whispered, voice rough.
“Relax. I’m not doing anything.”
Gob didn’t have any idea what he was trying to do. Despite all the years spent desperately seeking his brother’s approval and yearning for his brother touch, Gob had never thought of his feelings as sexual. And he failed to consider now why his hand was on its way into Michael’s pants.
Gob’s fingers made use of the play Michael gave them, tickling the skin below Michael’s navel. Michael’s grip tightened and his stomach fluttered under Gob’s touch.
“It’s okay,” Gob reassured him softly, voice a deep purr. “Trust me.” Michael’s fingers loosened a fraction and Gob freed himself. After squeezing Michael’s hand briefly, he undid the buckle with deft fingers, followed by the button and zipper of Michael’s fly.
Michael groaned low in the back of his throat as Gob slipped a hand into his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed. Gob moved closer fitting them together, one hand around his brother’s shoulders, the other fumbling at his crotch. Michael’s erection grew quickly as Gob gave it a couple of experimental strokes.
Michael’s lips moved wordlessly in encouragement or abuse and his head rolled and came to rest again on Gob’s shoulder, his forehead pressed to Gob’s neck. Gob glanced around, spotting a jar of Lindsay’s face cream on the coffee table.
Luckily it wasn’t full of diamonds. ....That could have been painful.
He withdrew his hand and snatched the small jar up, trying to keep from disturbing Michael, who whimpered but didn’t move. Gob scooped out three generous fingers-worth of the sweet smelling goop. He tossed the jar aside and returned to his efforts. Michael flinched as Gob enthusiastically applied the cold lotion, but he was quickly shaking and panting as the cream warmed and Gob’s rhythm grew surer. He came silently, almost surprising Gob with the hot spill over his fingers.
Michael sighed and sagged further into himself. Gob hesitated and pulled his hand free, wiping his sticky palm down his pant leg. Gob’s own erection was uncomfortably evident and he gave it a rub through the fabric of his pants. Michael finally roused enough to look at him.
Gob swallowed hard. “Can’t let you have all the fun, Michael.” He pulled his arm from around Michael, the movement surprising Michael. He slid from propped against the couch and fell back onto his elbows. He looked up at Gob, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. It was a look that made Gob’s stomach tighten and his cock twitch. He followed Michael, bracing himself up on his hands and knees, straddling Michael’s thigh. Michael’s head rolled back as Gob nuzzled behind his ear and along his neck and pressed messy kisses to Michael’s pulse. He thrust his groin into Michael’s hip.
Propping himself up with one hand and Gob unfastened the front of his pants with the other, freeing his erection. He glanced at Michael, who was watching with intense fascination, his lips wet and slightly parted. Gob wriggled a little to give him a show and thrust slowly against his side, rubbing along pale stomach exposed where Michael’s undershirt had ridden up.
Michael muttered something, but Gob didn’t hear him, instead catching Michael’s hand and bringing it to his cock. His brother’s fingers closed around him, first reluctantly and then more firmly, working his fist against Gob’s thrusts. Gob was keyed up and it only took a few desperate thrusts until he came.
They were still a moment, both breathing heavily. Gob pressed the side of his face to Michael’s neck once more and rolled off of him. He felt oddly satisfied seeing the viscous splatter of his semen across the ironed front of Michael’s shirt. He tucked himself back into his pants and pillowed his head on an arm, letting his eyes close. He heard the zip and rustle of clothing as Michael put himself back together. Gob lazily cracked an eye open; Michael was getting up, looking a little shaky.
“Hey,” Gob called softly, but Michael didn’t turn back, continuing on to his room. Gob watched Michael’s retreat and then pushed himself up, feeling just a bit light-headed himself.
Michael had shut the door of his bedroom but hadn’t locked it, and Gob let himself in when his knock went unanswered. Michael sat at the foot of his bed, his forehead cradled in one hand, elbows on his knees. He’d removed the soiled dress shirt, leaving him in his white cotton undershirt.
“Michael?” Gob ventured tentatively, apprehension settling on him like nausea as Michael refused to acknowledge his presence. “Hermano?”
“What, Gob?” Michael’s voice was sharp.
Gob had no idea what to say, so he put his hands in his pockets instead.
“Go away,” Michael said wearily when it was clear that Gob didn’t have an answer. “Please. Just go away.”
Gob studied a crack in the paint along the doorframe. “You’re not gay,” he started. “If that’s the problem. I used to mess around with a ton of guys in college and I’m still straight.”
“You never went to college,” Michael pointed out, eyes still on the floor.
“No, I mean literally guys in college-the Pi Kaps throw a righteous party.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Michael reconsidered. “Or it’s the least of my problems right now.”
“Because lots of guys-”
“We’re not guys, Gob, we’re brothers.” Finally, Michael looked at him. “You do know what incest is, right?”
Gob was slightly taken aback by Michael’s question; he’d been so sure Michael was worried about turning queer that the whole question of incest hadn’t actually occurred to him. “Like when people sleep with their moms and stuff?”
“Or other family members,” Michael added significantly.
Gob shrugged awkwardly. “That doesn’t apply to us.”
“Why not?”
Gob thought about it. “We’re drunk.”
“That’s not generally considered a good excuse.”
“And we didn’t even really have sex. We were just fooling around, which totally doesn’t count.”
Gob was beginning to worry about the consequences of having not-really-sex with his younger brother.
He slid down the door into a seated position, holding one knee to his chest. His eyes felt hot and he rubbed them angrily. “Even the priests agree that doesn’t count.”
“Wow,” Michael snapped. “You date one Christian and suddenly you’re a theologian. And I’m pretty sure that it does count, for the record.”
“I’m sorry,” Gob muttered, almost inaudibly. “Do you hate me now?”
Michael pressed his finger to his temples trying to stave off a migraine. “Yes.”
Gob began to cry noisily, burying his face in the crook of his arm.
Michael looked over at the sound of his brother’s muffled sobs.
“Hey. I was kidding. Gob-I don’t hate you.” Micheal sighed shortly. “I’ve never regretted you being my brother more than I do now, but I love you. To the point of being an abomination before God.”
Gob quit crying and said with a sniffle, “Really?”
The lines around Michael’s eyes eased as he looked at Gob. “Really. But this can’t happen again, all right? From now on all touches have to be appropriate. Nothing below the waist, nothing longer than three seconds.”
“Sure, whatever you want,” Gob assured him, getting to his feet and approaching Michael.
“And don’t announce whenever you’ve got a hard-on. I don’t want to know.”
Gob made to sit on the bed but Michael flinched away and he remained standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“We’re okay?” Gob pressed.
“Yeah.” Michael sighed. “Just give me time and we’ll go back to normal.”
Yeah, right.
Fandom: Arrested Development
Word Count: 2,300
Pairing: Michael/Gob
Summary: Gob house-sits.
Rating: MA/NC-17/Adult
Warning: incest
Gob sat at the kitchen counter, a bottle of Crown Royal and a juice glass in front of him. Michael entered, setting his briefcase and coat down on the counter. Gob looked at him over the rim of the glass.
“Hey,” Michael greeted tiredly, more resigned than surprised to find his older brother making himself at home. “What’s going on?”
“I’m house-sitting,” Gob told him and took a generous swallow. “Lindsay asked me to since she and Tobias are on that thing.”
The ‘thing’ that Lindsay and Tobias were on was the Happy Vale Center’s Loving Couples Growing Together Marriage Retreat for couples who wanted to recommit to their marriage. Neither of them did, but neither wanted to admit that to Michael, who’d suggested the retreat as a joke.
“Huh,” Michael considered this piece of information. “You do know that I’m still here, right?”
Gob was unperturbed by this and shrugged elaborately. “Uh. Okay. Guess Lindsay didn’t trust you with the responsibility.”
“It’s my house,” Michael protested, brow wrinkling in annoyance.
“Hey, don’t argue with me-this is between you and Lindsay.” Gob swished the liquid around his glass. “Want a drink?” He pushed the bottle across the counter toward Michael.
Michael considered pursuing the argument but realized the futility. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”
Gob poured Michael a glass. “You know,” he observed, “after watching Mom all these years, you’d think I’d drink less.”
“Or more,” Michael said thoughtfully.
Gob addressed the bottle, stroking the label tenderly, “Alcohol, you make everything better.”
Michael nodded his agreement, mouth twisting at the bitter burn of the whiskey. “Is there any particular reason we’re drinking now?”
“Well, I was trying to swallow this key for my show,“ Gob fingered a key lying near the calendar, “but it’s larger than the handcuff key and my efforts didn’t go so well.”
“They never do.”
“I’ve still got a gag reflex.” Gob shrugged philosophically. “I’m really working to get past it.”
“A worthy goal,” Michael intoned. “One I’m sure Tobias shares with you.”
Gob looked at Michael blankly. “Why would Tobias care about swallowing...oh, I see. Yeah.” He laughed loudly. “That guy’s such a fairy. So do you think this retreat thing will help their marriage?” Gob finished, switching topics abruptly.
“Mmm, after your thoughtful assessment? No, I kind of doubt it.” Michael looked slightly shamefaced and amended, “But who knows-they made it this far.”
Gob reached out and tipped more of the bottle’s contents into Michael’s glass. Michael looked at it, as if surprised to find his glass refilled, but shrugged and took another swallow.
“Even my marriage wasn’t perfect,” he mused.
“Yeah, neither was mine.”
“Wasn’t a real marriage, Gob.”
“It was,” Gob protested, “until that bitch left me.”
“You never even slept-”
“Yes, I did!” Gob interrupted, “And she has the photos to prove it!”
“Fine,” Michael ceded with an eye-roll.
Gob slumped against the counter. “I wouldn’t wish the hell I’ve been through with my divorce on Lindsay. Or even Tobias,” he added generously.
“It’s just so hard to find someone,” Michael said into his glass. “And when you do either they’re not who you thought they were-”
Like Rita.
”-Or you’re not who they thought you were-”
And Marta.
“-Or both.”
And Maggie Lizer.
“Why is it this hard? There are millions of people out there-I can’t seem to find one,” Michael complained.
Gob nodded, commiserating. “Look at me-I’m an attractive, successful magician. Girls should be throwing themselves at me, but instead I’m stuck house-sitting and drinking booze with loser Michael.”
“Thanks,” Michael grimaced. “Appreciated.”
“No problem, Mikey, no problem.” Gob watched as Michael drained his glass.
Michael coughed, sputtering a bit. “This stuff’s pretty strong; I’ve got to be careful or I’m going to fall of my barstool.”
“You never could hold your liquor,” Gob chided as Michael pushed himself up unsteadily. He followed Michael out to the living room and when Michael sprawled out on the carpet, Gob followed suit, sitting with his back to the couch.
“We are one fucked up family, you know that?” Michael said, still facedown in the plush weave of the carpet. “Fucked up.”
“Yeah,” Gob agreed, more subdued. The alcohol had brought a flush to his face and he was feeling languid and pleasantly buzzed. He nudged Michael’s calf with a bare foot. Michael looked up and grinned goofily at him. Gob smiled back, pleased with his brother’s alcohol-induced approval.
Michael propped himself up on his elbows and then crawled over, collapsing against Gob’s side. He patted at Gob’s face affectionately.
“You’re a good brother,” he said, eyes bright and glassy.
“Thanks, Mikey,” Gob answered, pulling Michael into a one-armed embrace. The move nearly sent Michael over, but he put a hand on Gob’s chest, steadying himself.
“A way better brother than Buster.”
Michael, never as keen on physical affection as Gob, tried to push away from Gob’s embrace. Gob tightened his grasp and Michael relaxed after a moment, either giving in or forgetting why he was struggling. Michael’s head drooped and came to rest against Gob’s shoulder. Gob could feel Michael’s chest rise and fall next to his as Michael sighed and relaxed further.
“There, there,” Gob murmured, bringing his hand up to grasp the side of Michael’s neck lightly, Gob’s thumb resting against his cheek. The fingers of the hand resting on Gob’s chest curled slightly, gripping the fabric of his Hawaiian-print shirt. Gob rubbed a slow circle against Michael’s cheekbone. Michael stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on nothing. This close Gob could smell the understated aftershave his brother favored, his nose almost touching Michael’s ear.
Enjoying the rare opportunity to really hold his brother when he wasn’t tensed or flinching away, Gob let his hand drop from Michael’s face to his collarbone, brushing lightly across the skin exposed there. Michael felt hot, nearly feverish, even through the cotton of his dress shirt. He didn’t protest as Gob’s hand worked down his front, even remaining silent as Gob reached his waist. Only when Gob’s fingers hooked into his belt did he protest, grabbing Gob’s wrist and turning to look at him.
“What are you doing?” Michael whispered, voice rough.
“Relax. I’m not doing anything.”
Gob didn’t have any idea what he was trying to do. Despite all the years spent desperately seeking his brother’s approval and yearning for his brother touch, Gob had never thought of his feelings as sexual. And he failed to consider now why his hand was on its way into Michael’s pants.
Gob’s fingers made use of the play Michael gave them, tickling the skin below Michael’s navel. Michael’s grip tightened and his stomach fluttered under Gob’s touch.
“It’s okay,” Gob reassured him softly, voice a deep purr. “Trust me.” Michael’s fingers loosened a fraction and Gob freed himself. After squeezing Michael’s hand briefly, he undid the buckle with deft fingers, followed by the button and zipper of Michael’s fly.
Michael groaned low in the back of his throat as Gob slipped a hand into his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed. Gob moved closer fitting them together, one hand around his brother’s shoulders, the other fumbling at his crotch. Michael’s erection grew quickly as Gob gave it a couple of experimental strokes.
Michael’s lips moved wordlessly in encouragement or abuse and his head rolled and came to rest again on Gob’s shoulder, his forehead pressed to Gob’s neck. Gob glanced around, spotting a jar of Lindsay’s face cream on the coffee table.
Luckily it wasn’t full of diamonds. ....That could have been painful.
He withdrew his hand and snatched the small jar up, trying to keep from disturbing Michael, who whimpered but didn’t move. Gob scooped out three generous fingers-worth of the sweet smelling goop. He tossed the jar aside and returned to his efforts. Michael flinched as Gob enthusiastically applied the cold lotion, but he was quickly shaking and panting as the cream warmed and Gob’s rhythm grew surer. He came silently, almost surprising Gob with the hot spill over his fingers.
Michael sighed and sagged further into himself. Gob hesitated and pulled his hand free, wiping his sticky palm down his pant leg. Gob’s own erection was uncomfortably evident and he gave it a rub through the fabric of his pants. Michael finally roused enough to look at him.
Gob swallowed hard. “Can’t let you have all the fun, Michael.” He pulled his arm from around Michael, the movement surprising Michael. He slid from propped against the couch and fell back onto his elbows. He looked up at Gob, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. It was a look that made Gob’s stomach tighten and his cock twitch. He followed Michael, bracing himself up on his hands and knees, straddling Michael’s thigh. Michael’s head rolled back as Gob nuzzled behind his ear and along his neck and pressed messy kisses to Michael’s pulse. He thrust his groin into Michael’s hip.
Propping himself up with one hand and Gob unfastened the front of his pants with the other, freeing his erection. He glanced at Michael, who was watching with intense fascination, his lips wet and slightly parted. Gob wriggled a little to give him a show and thrust slowly against his side, rubbing along pale stomach exposed where Michael’s undershirt had ridden up.
Michael muttered something, but Gob didn’t hear him, instead catching Michael’s hand and bringing it to his cock. His brother’s fingers closed around him, first reluctantly and then more firmly, working his fist against Gob’s thrusts. Gob was keyed up and it only took a few desperate thrusts until he came.
They were still a moment, both breathing heavily. Gob pressed the side of his face to Michael’s neck once more and rolled off of him. He felt oddly satisfied seeing the viscous splatter of his semen across the ironed front of Michael’s shirt. He tucked himself back into his pants and pillowed his head on an arm, letting his eyes close. He heard the zip and rustle of clothing as Michael put himself back together. Gob lazily cracked an eye open; Michael was getting up, looking a little shaky.
“Hey,” Gob called softly, but Michael didn’t turn back, continuing on to his room. Gob watched Michael’s retreat and then pushed himself up, feeling just a bit light-headed himself.
Michael had shut the door of his bedroom but hadn’t locked it, and Gob let himself in when his knock went unanswered. Michael sat at the foot of his bed, his forehead cradled in one hand, elbows on his knees. He’d removed the soiled dress shirt, leaving him in his white cotton undershirt.
“Michael?” Gob ventured tentatively, apprehension settling on him like nausea as Michael refused to acknowledge his presence. “Hermano?”
“What, Gob?” Michael’s voice was sharp.
Gob had no idea what to say, so he put his hands in his pockets instead.
“Go away,” Michael said wearily when it was clear that Gob didn’t have an answer. “Please. Just go away.”
Gob studied a crack in the paint along the doorframe. “You’re not gay,” he started. “If that’s the problem. I used to mess around with a ton of guys in college and I’m still straight.”
“You never went to college,” Michael pointed out, eyes still on the floor.
“No, I mean literally guys in college-the Pi Kaps throw a righteous party.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Michael reconsidered. “Or it’s the least of my problems right now.”
“Because lots of guys-”
“We’re not guys, Gob, we’re brothers.” Finally, Michael looked at him. “You do know what incest is, right?”
Gob was slightly taken aback by Michael’s question; he’d been so sure Michael was worried about turning queer that the whole question of incest hadn’t actually occurred to him. “Like when people sleep with their moms and stuff?”
“Or other family members,” Michael added significantly.
Gob shrugged awkwardly. “That doesn’t apply to us.”
“Why not?”
Gob thought about it. “We’re drunk.”
“That’s not generally considered a good excuse.”
“And we didn’t even really have sex. We were just fooling around, which totally doesn’t count.”
Gob was beginning to worry about the consequences of having not-really-sex with his younger brother.
He slid down the door into a seated position, holding one knee to his chest. His eyes felt hot and he rubbed them angrily. “Even the priests agree that doesn’t count.”
“Wow,” Michael snapped. “You date one Christian and suddenly you’re a theologian. And I’m pretty sure that it does count, for the record.”
“I’m sorry,” Gob muttered, almost inaudibly. “Do you hate me now?”
Michael pressed his finger to his temples trying to stave off a migraine. “Yes.”
Gob began to cry noisily, burying his face in the crook of his arm.
Michael looked over at the sound of his brother’s muffled sobs.
“Hey. I was kidding. Gob-I don’t hate you.” Micheal sighed shortly. “I’ve never regretted you being my brother more than I do now, but I love you. To the point of being an abomination before God.”
Gob quit crying and said with a sniffle, “Really?”
The lines around Michael’s eyes eased as he looked at Gob. “Really. But this can’t happen again, all right? From now on all touches have to be appropriate. Nothing below the waist, nothing longer than three seconds.”
“Sure, whatever you want,” Gob assured him, getting to his feet and approaching Michael.
“And don’t announce whenever you’ve got a hard-on. I don’t want to know.”
Gob made to sit on the bed but Michael flinched away and he remained standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“We’re okay?” Gob pressed.
“Yeah.” Michael sighed. “Just give me time and we’ll go back to normal.”
Yeah, right.