Page 10

9

Paul

R eaching for Brendon, I pull him to me, crashing my lips to his. I take my frustration from the last few days out on him, all teeth and tongues and aggression, which he gives right back, climbing onto my lap. I love the way he’s not fragile and doesn’t back down from a fight.

I don’t let the kiss go too long and pull back to rest my forehead against his, just breathing him in for a minute. Brendon slides his arms around my neck and presses our bodies together. I knew I missed his touch, but I didn’t know I needed it this badly. Some part of me that I didn’t know was tense relaxes. The tightness in my chest is gone, and the worry hanging heavy around my shoulders lightens.

“Lay with me for a while.” I don’t ask, and he doesn’t argue, just nods, and we settle onto the bed. I hand him the Xbox controller, and he flips through until he finds Star Wars: Episode IV, then lays back against me. I run my hand through his hair, and he quickly falls asleep. My soul breathes a sigh of relief having him against me, his weight on me.

I didn’t fuck this up. Thank fuck.

I watch the movie I’ve seen more times than I can count, letting my mind wander. What’s Dad doing? Is he lonely? Would I still be here if Mom were alive? I hope we win our next game.

Brendon rolls over, pushing his face into my neck and sliding his knee between my thighs, damn near resting on my balls. Using my foot, I drag the blanket up from the bottom of the bed and cover us, then shut off the TV, and fall asleep holding my favorite person.

When I’m woken up in the morning, Brendon is sliding his hard-on against my hip and sucking on my neck.

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to be late to the gym,” I grumble, not wanting him to stop.

“If we do it right, we’ll still get cardio.” The little shit smiles against my skin. “Also, I hate your fucking alarm.”

I laugh and roll over him to settle in between his thighs, our hips pressed together. In the shadows of five a.m., I can barely see his pink cheeks, but the lust in his eyes is so fucking clear. I want nothing more than to bury myself inside of him or feel my body stretch around him.

The thought has me remembering that I have toys hidden under my bed and my dick throbs at the idea.

Brendon slides his hand up my chest, and he wraps his legs around my hips. I lean down and flick my tongue over his nipple. He gasps and arches into me.

“Were you serious about me experimenting with you?” My words are hesitant, quiet, in the dark of the room. Like if I whisper them, it won’t hurt if he says no.

“Yes,” he groans, grinding up into me.

“We gotta be quick,” I groan around his nipple, biting on the sensitive skin, then pulling as much of his flesh into my mouth as I can with hard suction.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “Not a problem.”

I run my palm against his cock, reaching into his underwear and taking him in my hand. I’ve thought about this so many fucking times. His dick is hard in my hand, thick and heavy.

“Can I suck you?” I can’t take my eyes off my hand stroking him, the flush of his skin, and the way he arches into me. The little sounds he makes in the back of his throat will be playing on repeat all fucking day in my head.

“Please,” he moans, and I shift down to get him into my mouth. His skin is soft with a hint of salt when I lick across the tip. Brendon gasps, reaching for the sheets to find something to hold on to. “Please . . . fuck.”

I wrap my lips around his head, bobbing a little, and watching his reactions. He grips his hair and pulls, his legs wrapping around my back.

Releasing him, I lick a line down his shaft to his balls, his neatly trimmed red hair tickling my tongue. I suck one into my mouth while stroking him in quick, hard pumps. The skin, rough on my tongue, is a new sensation, and I like it a lot more than I expected.

“Paul,” Brendon pants, and I grin around his ball. “I’m gonna . . . fuck . . . I can’t . . . please.”

I pop his nut out of my mouth and make sure there’s a hard edge to my voice when I speak again. “Be a good little slut and come for me.”

His body tightens, cock throbbing, as cum erupts onto his stomach on a loud groan. I stroke him through his orgasm until he’s shaking and his body relaxes, then lick my way back up his dick and suck lightly at his tip. The bitter taste of his cum is lingering on his skin, and I love it.

He hisses and jerks his hips away from me. Smiling up at him, I move up his body, painting his skin with his cum where his shirt rode up.

“I like you messy and wrecked.” I kiss his lips softly, and he groans into my mouth.

“What about you?” Brendon looks down at the tent in my pajama pants. I fucking ache, there’s no denying that, but we don’t have time, and I kind of like edging myself.

“Be a good boy and I’ll let you make me come later.” Brendon’s face flames at my words, and I quickly get up and get changed, then head out of our dorm while he curses my name. For five a.m., I am way too happy, and the guys notice.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” Riggs, one of our young freshmen, snarls at me.

“Sorry, little man, it’s grown-up shit.” I clap him on the back and step onto the elevator where Carp and Willis are waiting. Jeremy forces himself next to me, and Brendon steps into the hallway, glaring daggers at me as the doors to the elevator shuts.

“What’s his problem?” Jeremy asks.

“Must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” I shrug and hide my smile by taking a drink from my water bottle.

We shuffle out of the enclosed space and head toward the gym. I’m already picturing all of the ways Brendon can get me off, or torture me, and I can’t fucking wait.

All through our time in the gym, Brendon fucks with me. Bending over where I get a full view of his ass. Taking his shirt off so I watch his muscles move under his skin.

By the time it’s our turn for barbell squats, he’s worked himself up more than he has me. I’m used to him touching me, being damn near naked around me while I had to hide my reaction. It’s just another day.

“Spot me.” He slaps my stomach with the back of his hand and gets his weights set on the bar. I step up behind him and squat with him, with my arms out in case he needs help getting up. Every time he stands up, he shifts a little closer to me until he’s brushing my crotch with his ass. I smirk at him in the mirror in front of us. Thankfully, no one is really paying any attention to us, so I can lean in and whisper in his ear.

“Are you trying to tell me you want me to fuck you?” His already red and sweaty face flushes darker, almost purple, and it spreads down his neck and chest.

“Maybe . . . I don’t often,” he grunts back, almost not able to get back up from the squat. He pushes through and gets the bar back on the rack and steps away from it. “What about you?”

I’m not embarrassed when I respond. “I’ve never tried.”

It’s Brendon’s turn to smile, and it’s a dangerous one. One that says he has plans that I will like. Fuck, I hate that we have classes and can’t just go back to the dorm and make each other come all day.

If I’m going to play with him later, I may need to get off first so I don’t look like a two-pump chump . . .