"Can't have that, can we?" Ben teased, considering the slur for a moment, before dismissing it. Neither of them were so drunk this was a bad idea, and he could feel how much Dennis wanted this pressed against his hip. And if that hadn't been enough, the way Dennis pressed him into the wall and thrust against him sealed the deal.
Delighting in the physical way Dennis carted him about, Ben lay on the bed for a moment and admired him as he undressed. "That can be arranged." Then he made quick work of his own clothes, leaving him splayed on the sheets in nothing but a pair of briefs. His cock was hard against his stomach, the tip peeking out over the band of his underwear.
He moved so he was half sitting against the headboard, hands reaching around to grip Dennis' arse. "I can think of something you're in the perfect position for," he said, then slid the boxers down to Dennis' knees and urged him forward. "That is, if you don't mind." He leaned forward and licked Dennis' cock from root to tip, smiling up at him through his lashes.