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Chapter thirty-seven

Trayton

K al hands me a beer and opens another for himself and Bray as they both sit beside me. I’ve just finished telling them everything. I couldn’t return to this room without talking to the two people who entered my life and stayed. It was tough for Brayden to hear about Bexley’s role in all of this, but he knew Daxton was hiding something. That’s when he mentioned seeing Daxton at the grave a while back. Kal, always the logical one, asked me to put myself in Daxton’s position and think about if it was him or Bray. Would I break their hearts by admitting the boy was mine first? Would I risk losing the only friend who, as Brayden put it, willingly walked into that web and stayed with me? Kal pointed out how young we all were too. We had to grow up quickly because that was just how it was for us. We were determined boys whose parents gave us freedom, and when Kal and I met Bray, we saw a lot we weren’t familiar with. Kal and I grew up with wealth, big houses, and cars, while Bray, Bex, and Daxton didn’t. So when we spent time at the trailer park, we witnessed a lot of harsh realities, but we were still so young. I had a lot of emotions for such a young person, and I truly believe my mom influenced that. She always talked about her feelings and love. I was raised to think love was the most important thing in the world, and then I began to resent it because, in my view, love led to pain. People would come into your life, make you love them, and then leave. So would I have said anything if I were in Daxton’s place? No, I wouldn’t because Kal and Bray mean everything to me.

But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Dax has been through so much more than any of us, Tray. You can’t hold it against him for holding onto any bit of goodness that crossed his path.”

“I know.” I exhale heavily. “I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he was there the whole time.”

“I remember you talking about Lighthouse Boy.” Kal nods, then points at me, wide-eyed. “Oh my god.” He stares at me in shock. “You used to call him Quiet Boy.”

Brayden inhales sharply. “If that isn’t fate, then I don’t know what is.” I can’t help but smirk because they’re right. The fact that I still call Daxton Quiet Boy now and then, just like I used to—it feels strange and surreal. But I do see it as a sign that he may have left me once, but he’s really come back.

“I need to see him,” I snap, sitting up abruptly. “Now.”

“All right, all right,” Kal and Bray rise, gently pushing me back onto the bed. “We’ll head to the bar, and you text Daxton, ask him to come here. Cope mentioned he’s not doing well, so be gentle with him,” Kal advises, grabbing his coat. I reach for my phone and pull up his number. There’s so much I want to show, but right now, all I need is him. I need to see him, to hold him. I wish I could untangle the chaos in my mind, but I can’t. Words have never been my strong suit, especially when it comes to feelings. I remember during the interview when I asked him what love meant, and his response. Maybe I can show him instead.

Me:

Dax, I think the world’s ending.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I take a deep breath before opening it, and there’s Daxton, looking utterly shattered. “You came.”

“You said the world’s ending,” he whispers. I step aside to let him in, and as soon as the door closes, I pull him into my arms and hold him so tightly.

“You came back to me.” I lean my forehead against his. “You left, but you came back.” I breathe him in.

“I never truly left, Tray.” I cradle Daxton’s face, bringing our lips close, and press mine gently against his. He clutches my arms tightly, as if afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go. “I’m here,” I murmur, planting soft kisses along his cheek. Tears stream from his eyes as his smile shines brightly at me, and I tenderly brush them away with my lips. Five.

“I love you, Tray.” His words pierce straight to my heart, igniting a burning throb. I know what I feel for him is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. But love’s always been a puzzle to me. It’s not something I’ve ever worked out. Instead of speaking, I express my emotions through actions. My lips meet his, delicately parting his mouth as my tongue explores, drawing a deep sigh from him, his shoulders relaxing. His fingers weave through my hair, performing that soothing motion I adore, raking gently across my scalp. Our tongues dance together, and I entwine mine with his, communicating through this embrace what my voice cannot. The kiss tells him what he means to me.

“I need you,” I murmur against his lips while I guide him back to the bed. When we reach it, I spin around so that I fall backward, with Daxton straddling me. He pushes into me, and I lift to meet him. I can’t get enough of him, of his body against mine, and I hate that it took us so long to get here. But now we’re here, and I’m never letting go—I’ll never let him leave my life again.Daxton grips my top, pulling it off as I do the same to him. Our bodies merge, and I trace my hands over his skin, over his tattoos and the nipple piercings I shouldn’t have overlooked. The moment my fingertips brush them, he gasps—I know he loves it. I let my thumbs caress his nipples as I savor the soft sounds that escape him, our mouths colliding more desperately with every kiss.“How do you want me, Tray?” He pants.

“I want you inside me, Dax,” I reply, running my hands through his hair as he looks down at me.

“Really?” His eyes light up as they flicker between mine. A smile spreading broadly on his face. Six.

“Really,” I confirm with a smile, letting my hands wander over his scalp. “I want you in every way, including inside me.” Daxton grins as he showers my cheeks and jaw with soft kisses that trail down my body, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Seven. Every kiss makes me tremble until his warm lips finally wrap around my hard cock. I sink back into the pillow, lost in the sensation of his wet, inviting mouth. After taking me completely, he resumes his kisses, now moving down to plant them gently on my balls. With firm hands holding my thighs, he lifts them to open me up, draping my legs over his shoulders as he leans forward. He parts me slowly, taking his time to press soft kisses along my skin, sending shivers down my spine with his delicate, tender touch.

He starts by licking me tentatively, then more boldly, until the overwhelming pleasure makes my legs lock up. I push against his tongue, urging him on. “Fuck, Dax, that feels so good.” I breathe, my words spurring him on as he moves from my balls back up to my opening, repeating his motions until I tremble uncontrollably. “Shit… shit… shit,” I murmur. “Dax, fuck, I need you inside me.” I moan, desperate to feel every part of him. Suddenly, he sits up, his eyes wide with passion as they lock onto my face and my whole body.

“Fuck, Tray. I want to eat you from the outside in, and I don’t think that would even be enough,” he says, his fingers teasing around my hole. “Lube?” he asks.

“Top drawer,” I reply. In a rush, Daxton opens the top drawer, grabs a bottle, and quickly squeezes some onto his finger. All I can think about is his cock inside me, not his fingers. “Please, Dax. I need you, not your fingers.” His eyes meet mine, burning with desire as he clenches his jaw.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reassures me before gently pushing a finger inside.

“Fuck, it feels weird.” I inhale sharply as he adds a second, slowly sliding them in and out. “More,” I beg, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. With a third finger, and the way he opens them up inside me, stretching me, I know I can’t wait any longer. “Dax, fuck, fuck me,” I blurt out, and he angles his fingers perfectly as he smirks.

“So needy,” he teases, an infuriating smirk tipping upon his lips before his expression turns serious as he lines himself up with me. Eight. He pushes in slowly, each inch filling me deeper. As he tunnels in, he breathes heavily and stares down at me with intense, wide, green eyes.

“Please move,” I prompt. Daxton closes his eyes, fighting to keep himself under control—it’s a struggle I understand because I feel like I might fall apart just watching him. I feel his piercing thrust along the inside as he pulls out, and then when he pushes back in, my whole world lights up. “Holyfuckingshit.”

“Tray,” Dax murmurs, his face softening as he slowly withdraws and then thrusts into me again. Each time, his hips send ripples of pleasure that make my eyes roll back.

“You don’t know how good you feel inside me, Dax.” I pant, running my hands along his arms. “I can feel you everywhere.” Daxton thrusts into me hard, his pelvis snapping perfectly into place as he bottoms out each time. I arch my back off the bed as he positions himself with his arms on either side of my head, his face pressed against mine and his wild eyes locking me in place. Every time he pulls out and then pushes back in, filling me up, he kisses me on my cheek, my lips, my forehead, and my neck. With every thrust, his kisses cover me, and I can honestly say I’ve never experienced sex that feels this incredible. Being so connected to Daxton makes me feel whole, like I finally found the missing piece of me.

I feel right. I feel complete. Then I pull Daxton’s head back and stare at him, really looking into his eyes. The words are right on the tip of my tongue—I know I love him—but I can’t seem to say them, afraid that admitting it might make him leave. I close my eyes, trying to push those thoughts away as I whisper,

“Harder, Dax.” I open my eyes and add, “Fuck me like you love me.” Daxton lifts me, hooking both of my legs over his shoulders as he snaps his hips forward in one strong thrust. His moan fills the room as his hard body grinds over every sensitive spot.

“Your ass is squeezing me so tight. I wish you could see how well your ass swallows my cock, Tray. It’s like it’s craving more and pulls me in deeper every time I try and pull out.” He pants, his breathing growing heavier as his moans intensify and sweat drips down his head. “I want you to come for me, Tray. I want you to make a mess for me.” He’s going to end me with that mouth of his.

“Daxton, fuckshitfuck.” I grip my own cock and match his pace as our movements get more frantic. His jaw clenches, and his hands grip my thighs firmly.

“I’m going to come inside you, Trayton.” Dax groans, his fingers tightening even more.

“Harder,” I cry out, my hand moving frantically as my body buzzes with desire. “Ahhhh fuckkkkk,” Dax rasps, his hips slamming into me once, twice, until I finally tip over the edge. My legs tense on his shoulders as I come hard, my cum shooting out. Daxton’s movements slow, and he pants over me as he gently lowers my legs and slips himself out of me, causing me to wince from the burn I know I’m going to be feeling for a while. He wipes his head, staring down at me and the undeniable proof of our connection.

“You look so damn perfect,” he murmurs, lowering his lips to mine. He kisses me deeply, then trails his lips down my neck and chest, moving lower to where the cum is, licking it all up. His tongue glides across my stomach, and he moans with every swipe. My dick twitches, somehow springing back to life, already half-hard. Daxton moves up, his face so close to mine. “I’ll never stop loving your taste,” he says. I grab the back of his neck and crash my lips onto his, tasting myself on him. I don’t care because he’s so damn hot, too much of everything. As our tongues tangle, I realize with complete certainty: he was meant to find me again, to come here and fix what was broken. After a moment, Daxton rolls beside me, and we both lie there in silence, trying to catch our breath. Dax tilts his head upward, and I slide my arm around his shoulder, drawing him close as we lie together in a gentle silence. His hand slowly moves upward, tracing the small tattoo on my chest.

“You said it’s a star map, but what was the reason behind it?” he asks softly.“I-” I stutter, and then I lean in to whisper, “You.” He sits up, brow furrowing as he watches me.

“What?” I smile and reply,

“It’s the star map from the night we met at the lighthouse.” His face fills with awe as his eyes glisten.

“You’re kidding.” He breathes, astonishment coloring his tone. I shake my head gently.

“I told you what you meant to me.” His fingers glide over the tiny pattern etched on my skin.

“I can’t believe you have it—when did you get it?” A light laugh escapes me as memories rush back: that reckless day when I strolled into a tattoo shop, underage and determined, tossing them an extra hundred bucks.

“Fifteen,” I say, a mischievous smile tugging at my lips. Dax frowns playfully.

“But you were with Bex back then, right?”

“Like I said,” I whisper, my tone soft and tender, “those nights on the lighthouse with you meant more than you can imagine. I needed a piece of you to hold on to forever.” My voice wavers as I see the glisten of unshed tears in his eyes. “Dax.” My heart aches to confess a love too deep for words—even speaking it feels like it might break me. “Dax,” I repeat quietly.

“Shh, I know, Tray. You don’t have to say it,” he murmurs, his tone warm and understanding. He presses a gentle kiss on the star map on my chest. “Our stars,” he marvels before leaning forward to share a soft kiss on my lips. “You know, you just gave me my first,” he confesses, his head resting against my chest.

“What?” I ask in confusion.

“I’ve never been on top before,” he admits shyly. I lean back, gently tugging his shoulder until his gaze meets mine. His rosy cheeks—my favorite sight—shine back at me.

“I got a first.” I grin, my chest swelling with both tenderness and disbelief. Finally, I have a first.

“You’ve given me so many firsts,” he whispers softly. He starts listing hesitantly, “First guy who kissed me—even if it was just a peck on the cheek; the first guy I loved; the first who broke my heart; the first guy’s dick I sucked.”

“What?” I interject in utter shock. Dax peers up at me.

“That night, right here, after you lied about your tattoo,” he recalls with a soft laugh. God, it was his first time sucking a dick, and I’d treated him like that.

“Dax, damn… I—” I begin.

“Don’t,” he cuts in lightly, his laughter bright and genuine. Nine. “I loved it. More than you can imagine.” His tone softens as he sighs. “I wish I could call one of your firsts mine.” I freeze.

“You’ve had three.”

Daxton sits up sharply, twisting and staring down at me. “What?”

“The first guy who broke my heart,” I murmur, gazing up at him as the memories flood my mind. “That night at the hotel—that was the very first time I ever made love to someone,” I confess, “and you were the first boy I ever loved.” Daxton stares at me, a tear slipping free. It’s like he doesn’t know whether to cry or smile at the confession. A small smile breaks free on his lips, and I grab his chin, pulling him closer. “Ten.”

“What?”

“I make a mental list every morning when I wake up of things I want to complete during the day. Ever since the morning at the hotel, my list has been consumed of you. Today it was to make you smile ten times.” Another tear slips free again. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Dax. I just want to make you smile. I fell in love with your smile at the age of eleven. It’s something I don’t want to go a day without seeing again.”