Blushing, Chris could feel the pulse pounding through his erection. "You affect me so … so … " he couldn't hold Manon's gaze. He dropped it to stare at his cast, the heavy green weight a reminder of what had happened to him. For now, the lust he felt for the man next to him overshadowed the pounding ache in his head.
"Sweet man," Manon crooned. "We should really get out of here before I suck you off, but perhaps you don't want to wait, Chris?"
Chris glanced around the room, but saw that he and Manon were alone. "What did you have in mind?" he asked quietly.
Manon gave him a heated look, then slid his hand under the sheet. Chris whimpered when he felt the man's palm brush over his side, across his abs, and down his hip. Manon leaned over him, holding his gaze, letting Chris see all the lust and need filling him. He shivered when Manon rested his fingers on his hip and gently raked the tips through his pubic hair.
He couldn't stop the moan from escaping him. Manon's touch was so close to his cock. His shaft was so hard it hurt, and he desperately wanted to feel the man's firm grip wrap around him. His body practically vibrated with the need to rotate his hips and get that hand on him.
Manon grinned down at him and then gently slid the tip of one finger from the base of Chris's dick to the tip. He swirled it through the precum leaking from him like a sieve. "Please," Chris whispered.
"Please what, cher?"
His breath came in soft pants and Chris knew his eyes were wide, pupils dilated with lust. He didn't know where Manon's fingers would move next. With the sheet covering him, Chris couldn't see where the man's hand hovered. All he could do was feel. His body trembled as he waited for the next scrape of calluses against his nerve bundle, soft flick into his slit, or squeeze up and down the stalk of his shaft.
"Ugh!" He couldn't stop the grunt of pleasure when Manon finally wrapped his fingers firmly around him and stroked. Chris's hips bucked convulsively, and his free hand gripped the sheet. He stared into his new lover's eyes as he worked him, sending delicious threads of pleasure down his stalk, into his balls, and through his groin.
Finally, Manon lowered his head and kissed him. He thrust his tongue deep into Chris's mouth repeatedly in a parody of how Chris desperately wanted Manon to sink into his ass. His hole clenched with the mental image.
His shaft jerked in Manon's grip. Chris bent his knees, planted his feet on the bed, thrust his hips, fucking himself through his lover's tight fist. Sparks shot up, then back down his spine. His balls pulled tight. Chris was so close he could taste his orgasm building.
Suddenly, Manon lifted his head and growled, "Come."
His mouth open in a silent scream, Chris's body obeyed. With his balls tight to his body, his dick expelled his seed in violent spurts. The muscles of his abs bunched, and he buried his face in Manon's neck as the heady endorphins of release swamped his system in ecstasy.
When he came to his senses, Chris felt Manon's hand on his neck, gently massaging the tendons. Manon's other hand caressed the sensitive skin of his softening shaft. He moaned, feeling renewed interest and wondering how the hell he could want more after the most intense orgasm of his life. And that from a hand job!
Carefully, Manon helped him ease his head back to his pillow. Manon leaned down and gave him a soft peck on the lips, then lifted his head and asked, "Feel better?"
"Holy shit," Chris whispered. "If that was your idea of better, I may be afraid to experience whatyou think is great."
Manon chuckled. "I brought sweats and a t-shirt I think will fit you. Let me get a cloth to clean you up and then we'll see if we can secure your release papers."
He couldn't hide the blush that worked up his chest and neck. "Okay."
"Relax," Manon murmured. "I won't tell if you won't tell," he said with a wink.
Watching Manon slip into the bathroom, Chris knew his lover didn't need to tell anyone what they'd just done. From the scent in the room and the fact that Daren had felt the need to slip out, his friends would just know.
Manon reappeared with a damp cloth in hand. When Chris reached for it, Manon looked like he would insist on cleaning him up himself, but then he relinquished the warm fabric. He set a small backpack on the chair by the bed. "You think you'll be okay to dress on your own?" he asked softly.
Chris felt grateful Manon focused on setting out the clothes and canvas sneakers while he reached beneath the sheet and cleaned the cum off his chest, abs, and groin. It was foolish, he knew, but somehow having his lover watch him clean himself was even more intimate than actually letting Manon stroke him off.
"I'll be fine, I think," he replied. "I got lucky. Just a broken wrist and some bruising. The cops responded surprisingly quickly to my nine-oneone call."
"I heard from my buddy, Detective Stryker, that the Colin City police have had trouble with attacks in that area of town recently. They take any calls from there very seriously," Manon told him.
"Well, I'm glad about that," Chris said. "I've had broken bones before, so I know how to work around them." He winked. "You get the doctor to release me, and I'll get ready to go."
Manon nodded. "Sounds good." He paused at the doorway. "Did you speak to the police yet?"
Chris picked up the shirt Manon had brought, impressed by his thoughtfulness. He'd been planning to ask Eric or Daren if they could get him clothes, but with the lack of change to Remy's condition, he hadn't wanted to ask them to do something that would force them to leave.
"Yes. A Detective Pierson stopped by and I told him everything. He left his card on the nightstand there," he said, pointing.
"Good," Manon stated. His protective growl surprised Chris, and warmed him at the same time.
"Get out of here," he said with a smile.
Manon chuckled and left.
Chris carefully maneuvered his legs off the bed and slipped the sweats on. Maneuvering them one handed was tough, but he got it done. Good thing they were sweats and there weren't any buttons or zippers involved. Then he pulled the shirt over his head. That hurt more, but at least it was easier.
He was sitting on the bed, waiting for Manon to return with the doctor or a nurse, when Daren walked in. "Hope you don't mind my leaving a little bit ago. I figured you two wanted some time alone." The grin on Daren's face told Chris that his friend knew exactly why he would want time alone.
Rolling his eyes, Chris muttered, "Shut up. It's not like Remy and I haven't left your apartment a time or two when you and Eric started getting a little too hot and heavy."
Daren laughed. "Hot and heavy? God, what are you? Fifteen?"
"Shut up," Chris snapped.
His friend just grinned. "I have good news, too. Remy woke and he's talking."
Chris sighed with relief. "That's fantastic!"
"Yeah, things are a bit fuzzy for him right now, but he does remember leaving the club with a guy and going around the corner. He just doesn't remember anything after that." Daren grimaced. "I don't know if I want the rest to come back to Remy or not."
Nodding, Chris could understand his friend's feelings. His first gay bashing had put him in the hospital for a week and a half-a broken a leg and ruptured spleen nearly cost him his life. He didn't remember everything, and felt grateful for that.
Manon's return interrupted their conversation. A nurse with paperwork that needed to be signed and aftercare instructions followed him. Once he'd signed everything and listened as patiently as he could, Manon asked if he was ready to go.
Chris shook his head. "I want to see Remy first."
Manon nodded. "Of course, cher." He turned to Daren. "Lead the way, bra."
He followed the others from the room, grateful for Manon's solid arm around his waist. Chris might not need the support, but it was nice not to worry about it.
When they walked into the hospital room, Eric rose from the chair by Remy's bed. He gave Chris a light hug, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Manon tense at the contact. After an oblivious Eric released him, Chris patted Manon's shoulder and turned back to his friend.
"How is he?" Chris asked.
Eric smiled slightly. "He's awake and talking. No brain damage. But he does have a long road to recovery," Eric stated sadly.
Chris grimaced and turned to look at Remy. He stretched out a hand and traced Remy's jaw, then leaned down and kissed his sleeping friend's forehead.