Jackson grinned and stepped away from Greg. "Don't look at me like that, you thought 'courting' was a good idea."
Greg leaned against the wall panting. "I didn't realize 'courting' meant being in sexual frustration hell, you little Victorian freak." Greg tingled from Jackson's far too skilled hands and mouth.
"It's not just Victorian."
"Fine, horribly old fashioned freak."
"You suggested the element of not having sex for 6 months. I believe your exact words were, 'to make sure this is real not just being horny and on the rebound; and if neither of us has sex with anyone else during that time eventually we can both be tested and know we're both clean.' It's been 7 months. I believe we then went on to define sex."
"As anything involving naked skin stroking or rubbing of another's naked genitals in a deliberate fashion." Jackson ducked his head down a little, making Greg sure he could see him blush if it weren't so dark. "Are you sure this is real?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah." Greg gained control of his breathing. "You disease free?"
"Yes, as you know, and so are you."
Greg nodded and checked if his legs still worked. "So at this point we're really just seeing who'll cry uncle first?"
"If you ever cry out 'uncle' during sexβ"
"Make it 'I surrender' then." Greg took a step towards Jackson.
"Sounds about right." Jackson bit his lip. "I know I'm fond of this game."
"You're only fond of it 'cause you think you're winning." Greg kissed Jackson strong and deep, pressing his hand against one of his favorite spots. Pressure at the base of his back always made Jackson squirm just a bit more. His other hand sneaking in a squeeze at the front of Jackson's pants. He felt at least one thrust before releasing Jackson from the kiss, but held on to keep either of them from falling. Greg stared into his eyes under the streetlamp. Panting, and definitely pinking in the face, if he loved or wanted him any more Greg would have orgasms just from holding his hand.
Jackson found his voice first, it having snuck into a corner no where near his throat, it took some effort. "There are other reasons I am fond of this game." He offered Greg his arm.
Greg smirked and took it. "Why do I end up being the debutant when I'm always the aggressor?"
He pressed the back of Greg's palm to his lips as the strolled up the sidewalk. "Simple. I'm six inches taller and could actually carry you over great distances should you twist your ankle or something." They dodged a fellow pedestrian. "Besides you're not always the aggressor."
"Usually then." Greg hugged Jackson's arm a little tighter. "You remember when we met?"
"I was so nervous."