Dylan’s breathing too hard when Zach picks up. He says, “Hey, I miss you.” “Not for sex reasons, obviously,” Zach says. “What is going on there?”

Sometimes he wakes up sucking on his fingers, rutting his hips into the bed. He’ll be right on the edge of coming, the wet head of his dick trapped between his hips and the sheets, but he can’t, he can’t, not without – not without something pushed up inside, something stretching him open.