Page 20

HARRY

The night air was soft and warm as we left Bea’s, the hum of the jukebox fading behind us, the trail ahead lit only by the moon and the scatter of stars overhead.

Dean walked beside me, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, head tipped back just enough to catch the glow of the sky. His shoulder bumped mine gently as we took the shortcut along the forest trail out toward Percy’s Pond on the way home. The crickets were singing, the leaves overhead rustling just enough to keep the world from feeling too still.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to.

I’d walked this trail a thousand times, but tonight it felt different. Like every turn in the path was leading me somewhere I’d never been before.

The pond came into view, still and silver under the moonlight, the water glassy and calm. The old white gazebo stood just off the bank, half -hidden beneath a sweeping willow, the paint flaking a little, but holding steady—like everything in this town.

Dean slowed, then turned to me with a crooked little smile that hit me square in the chest.

“C’mere,” he said softly, reaching out and lacing his fingers through mine.

God, I would’ve followed him anywhere.

He tugged me toward the gazebo, stepping up onto the creaky old boards, leading me under the soft shadows of the roof where the moonlight caught the edges of his blond hair, casting him half in light, half in dark.

I barely had time to take a breath before he was pressing me back against one of the posts, his mouth finding mine like he’d been starving for it.

I groaned, grabbing his hips and pulling him to me, every inch of him fitting against me like we’d been made to fit this way. His lips were soft but insistent, hungry, tongue slipping into my mouth with a needy sound that shot straight to my gut.

“Dean,” I whispered against his lips, but he didn’t stop, just pressed closer, his fingers tugging my shirt free from my jeans, sliding under to touch bare skin.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night,” he breathed, kissing his way down my neck, teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp. “I’ve been losing my mind wanting you.”

I groaned again, hands sliding down to cup his young, firm ass, pulling him tighter against the hard line of my cock, already aching for him.

“You’re not the only one,” I muttered, dipping my head to bite softly at his jaw, then lower, to the curve of his throat. “You drive me crazy.”

Dean trembled against me, and I could feel the anticipation rippling through him, his hands slipping up under my shirt, fingers splayed across my stomach, ruffling my fur like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss me or tear my clothes off.

He settled on both.

I let him tug my shirt up and off, arms raised, and the second it hit the ground, his hands were on me again, mouth following, kissing down my chest, his fingers finding my belt.

“God, Harry,” he whispered, voice shaky but sure. “I need you.”

I cupped his face, tilting it up so I could look him in the eye. “You got me.”

He smiled, soft and sweet, and it broke me a little—the trust in his eyes, the way he looked at me like I was something good. I hoped to God I wouldn’t disappoint him.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the condom packet I’d shoved in there before I left the house—just in case. I had a small pillow of lube too.

Dean’s eyes caught the movement, and his smile turned wicked. “Just like a big boy scout,” he said, chuckling into my mouth. “Always prepared.”

He reached for his own shirt then, pulling it off and tossing it aside. His skin glowed silver in the night, lean and perfect, muscles taut beneath that smooth, pale skin.

I kissed him again, harder this time, walking him backward until his knees hit the bench inside the gazebo. He sat, then leaned back, pulling me down on top of him, legs spreading to cradle me between his thighs.

“God how I want you,” he breathed, fingers fumbling at my jeans, desperate. “Please, Harry—God, I need you.”

I kissed him again, slower now before dipping lower, down his neck, across his chest, tasting him, taking my time even though my cock was throbbing with the need to be inside him.

“You sure?” I asked, breath ragged against his skin.

Dean nodded, eyes blown wide with want. “I’m sure. Please.”

I made quick work of the rest of our clothes, peeling them off between kisses, hands greedy, mouths never staying apart for long, his body under me, warm and wanting, soft little gasps escaping him as I kissed my way down his stomach.

I took my time prepping him, fingers slick with lube, working him open slow and gentle, watching every expression on his face as his body yielded to me, soft and ready.

“You’re perfect,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss him as I slid the condom onto my thick, hard dick.

“So are you,” he whispered back.

I slicked myself up.

I nudged the bulbous head of my cock between his lubed ass cheeks.

He gripped my shoulders, pulling me closer, eyes bright and wanting.

I pushed in slow, one steady thrust, burying myself inside him, and the tight heat of him made my heart skip.

Dean gasped, head tilting back, hands clutching at my arms. “Oh, fuck—Harry—yes…”

I gave him a moment, leaning down to kiss his lips, his throat, his firm young chest.

“You’re okay?” I checked, brushing the hair back from his forehead.

“Yeah.” He nodded, breathless, smiling. “God, yeah—don’t stop.”

I started to move, slow at first, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in, deep and steady, finding a rhythm that made Dean moan, his hands scratching at my back, nails digging into my skin.

“Harry… harder… please!”

I gave him what he wanted, hips snapping forward, thrusting harder, deeper, driving into him until the gazebo echoed with the soft creak of wood.

His thighs tightened around me, pulling me in closer, locking me against him.

His eyes were fixed on mine, desperate and adoring all at once.

I reached between us, wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts, and it didn’t take long. Soon he was crying out, back arching, body clenching down hard around me as he came, shooting hot white spools of cum across his stomach.

The tight squeeze of his ass muscles around my cock pushed me over the edge. I groaned his name—“ Dean! Oh Dean! ”—burying myself deep as I gushed hard inside him, hips stuttering, the world going white for a second as pleasure flooded through me.

We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, hearts racing.

I kissed him softly—his lips, his cheek, his sweat-damp hair—then pulled out, slow and careful.

Dean curled against me, head on my furry chest, arms wrapped tight around my thick waist. His breath slowed, soft and even, and he let out a happy little sigh that felt like the best sound I’d ever heard.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly. “All that time in LA, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All I wanted was for you to hold me.”

I held him even tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m right here, babe. I’m not going anywhere.” I paused and added, “I wish you didn’t have to go anywhere either.”

The pond rippled softly under the moon, the world quiet around us.

In that little white gazebo, wrapped up in each other’s arms, everything else could wait.