"Kids' stuff?" Peter said. "I just used to play hide'n'seek with my brothers."

Davy laughed a little. He didn't seem bothered. But Peter felt weird for some reason.

"David. You and your friend. Jim. You did this kind of stuff together?"

"For a while." Davy raised one shoulder. "Like I told you" –

"Kids' stuff. Yeah." He looked at Davy. He was sitting cross-legged. His palms were open on his knees. His shirt was all unbuttoned. He looked relaxed.

It struck Peter that he hadn't gotten Davy off. Not once since this had started. He'd kissed Davy. He'd touched Davy. But Davy'd been the one to use his hands and mouth to carry him over the finish line. He hadn't returned the favor.

Maybe this Jim person was the last person to make Davy come. If you didn't count all the girls there had been since. And right now, Peter didn't. He didn't know why.

He crawled over to him. He rested his chin on Davy's shoulder for a second. Then he turned his head and said, "Lie down," right into his ear.

Davy pulled back. He didn't lie down. Instead he said, "Pete?"

He didn't want to say anything else. He was afraid his voice might shake with excitement and nerves. But when he put his hands on Davy's shoulders, Davy went down easy enough.

Davy looked up at him. "Yeah?" he asked, one hand catching at Peter's arm. His smile started slow but it lit up his face. And it was for Peter. His.

"Yes," he said. His voice didn't shake at all. He copied what Davy had done to him and licked his navel. Davy's stomach muscles jumped interestingly under his tongue. The only problem was he didn't know what to do next. No actually, he knew what to do. He just didn't know how to do it.

He glanced up at Davy. "So. This Jim. Um. Did he. What did he teach you?"

Davy's hands urged him up. For a horrible second he thought Davy was calling it off. Instead he pulled Peter close. He kissed him and when he pulled back, he said, "Well first of all, that it's okay to go slow."

Then he put his hand over Peter's and guided it. Down his chest and abdomen and to the hard-on visible through his pants. Then Davy looked right at him and lifted his hand away. So it was just Peter's hand touching his cock. Through some layers of cloth. But still.

Peter looked down because he couldn't not. He pressed his hand down harder, squeezing gently. He could feel Davy's cock jerk even through the material. He fumbled with the button and zipper, pushing his pants down, moving his underwear out of the way. Then he was holding Davy's cock in his hand, hot and hard, leaking precum.

It was strange. It didn't feel anything like when he touched himself. But it was good too. He knew it, because Davy told him so as soon as he began to move his hand. "It's good, that's good, so good Pete, just – harder. A bit harder, yeah," he panted.

Peter was torn between looking down because it was fascinating to watch Davy thrusting into the circle of his fist, and looking up. Because Davy was so focused on what Peter was doing. His eyes were closed and his lips were pressed together. Peter thought he looked beautiful. With his free hand he brushed Davy's hair off his face. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Davy's forehead, and he stroked even harder.

Davy stiffened and came. A few seconds later, his hands grasped either side of Peter's face and pulled him down. "Good. That was so good. You were so good," he assured him breathlessly, almost nonsensically, between kisses.

Peter kissed him back. He felt good, satisfied. Like he'd done something important, proved something to someone. Though he didn't know who.