Page 13

Muir

Fitz gobbles my entire length, my cock disappearing into his stretched mouth. Fuck. I love seeing this side of him unleashed.

My invitation in the Uber was meant as a two-way thing. I'm eager for a repeat of last night, including blowing him, but from the second we tore into the hotel room, Fitz has taken the lead, stripping me out of my clothes so fast and so rough, and practically throwing me onto the bed.

He's wedged between my legs, in his favourite spot, still fully dressed, which is a tad unfair in my opinion, but as my eyes roll into the back of my head as he deepthroats me yet again, I don't have it in me to protest.

His confidence has grown leaps and bounds since last night, and believe me, he was good then, too. He's taking to sucking dick like a duck to water. Yay for me!

He replaces his mouth with his hand and jerks me off slowly as he asks, "Can I try something, bubba?"

The word lights me up from within. No one's ever called me anything apart from the occasional baby, and having a special word makes me feel, well, special. And yeah, my brain is clearly not operating at its peak right now.

"Sure," I answer, since I trust him, and I know that whatever he has in mind is going to be good.

He moves down the bed, cups his hands under my knees, and lifts my legs into the air.

Holding me there, his eyes find mine. "I've had a taste of your cock—magnificent, by the way—now I want to taste the back. If that's okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Is he kidding me? Having my arse eaten out tops my forbidden fantasy list. "As long as you're sure?"

He smiles. "I'm fucking sure."

Keeping my legs in place, he scooches down, his hot breath wafting over my cheeks.

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing. In all the times I've fingered myself or used a dildo, this has always been my secret go-to fantasy. There's just something so hot and primal about rimming.

I can't wait to find out what it feels like.

The second Fitz's tongue swipes between my cheeks, I melt. Like, full-on, full-body melt. And as he keeps going, running his tongue up and down my taint, the sizzling sensation radiates throughout my entire body.

He stops for a moment, strengthens his grip on my legs, and then lands his tongue directly on my hole.

"Fuuuuck!"

His lips, his tongue, even the skin around his mouth, feel incredible as he munches away down there, and I'm powerless to do anything but enjoy it.

After a while, he lowers my legs, my feet finding the mattress. I look down at him. He's still eating my hole and jacking himself off while he's doing it.

He finds my hand and moves it to my hard cock. I start jerking myself off, too. I give it a few pulls, and fuck, I'm so turned on, I'm way closer than I realised.

"Getting close," I murmur.

Fitz keeps lapping at my hole, but I can see his eyes darting up every few strokes, like he wants to see me come.

I straighten my legs out and spread them wide on the bed to give him a clearer view. His lips and tongue are working overtime on me, and my hand is a blur as I fist my cock. "Oh, fuck. Gonna come!"

My hips buck into the air, and my cock sprays all over my abs and chest. Fitz slows his movements before coming to a complete stop. He lifts his head, smiles devilishly, and then runs his tongue straight through the middle of my sticky mess.

He lets out a strangled moan, and his body starts to shake. It takes me a second to realise what's happening—he's coming.

"Did you just come while licking my load?"

"Yeah. I did." He smacks his lips together. "There's something about your taste, Muir. It does things to me."

I pat the bed next to me.

He scooches up, and I kiss him, my salty aftertaste fresh on his lips. I don't think I've ever felt this happy and safe in my life.

I'm looking for a way to take advantage of that special magic-hour glow. "Do something funny," I instruct, while safely tucked behind my phone. "Or sexy."

"Like what?" Fitz shakes his head. "Take my shirt off right now on this crowded boardwalk?"

"That's the best idea you've had all day," I tease.

"Not happening," he says, uncharacteristically declining a chance to strip off. I mean, we are in a bustling city surrounded by fully clothed people, so that's probably why.

He walks closer to the river, and I zoom in on his arse, which looks fucking amazing in his jorts. But oops, this is meant to be TikTok-friendly, so I tilt the camera up, capturing the expanse of his shoulders and the mess of his dark hair. Well, shit. No matter what I do or where I aim the damn camera, I'm forced to take in every detail of his ruggedly handsome features.

Poor me.

"I've got an idea," he says over his shoulder, beckoning me to come closer with a wave.

I scurry over to him, and when he kneels down at the edge of the boardwalk by the river, I do the same.

He looks into the camera, flashes a megawatt smile, then says, "I'm here in Brissie, hanging out by the Story Bridge and Brisbane River, or as it's locally known, the "Brown Snake" due to its winding shape and murky waters. It may not look like much, but this river is actually home to a diverse range of wildlife, including the iconic Australian pelican, various species of fish, and there's even been the occasional sighting of bull sharks. Mangroves line parts of the river, providing a habitat for crabs, birds, and small mammals. Which just goes to show, not all brown things are shhhhh." He smiles at me. "Can't say shit on TikTok but you can do one of your fancy fade crossover things that you do."

"I was already thinking that."

"Cool."

We get up and start walking along the boardwalk. Dusk is settling in, the sky tinged in pastel shades of pink, purple, and orange. I film joggers and cyclists and pedestrians as they pass us, and the city skyline that's starting to glow with the first twinkling lights.

I can't remember the last time I felt so at peace.

Might have something to do with having the best sex of my life back-to-back. It blows my mind that it happens to be with my best mate, but at the same time, something about it feels right.

And even though it's a very recent development, it feels familiar, too. Safe. The way it should in a relationship-ish.

"Would you mind putting the phone away?" Fitz asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Your phone. Put it away, please." He's smiling, but it's not his usual confident smile. This one borders on shy. I'm about to ask what's going on when he says, "I'd like to hold your hand."

"Oh. Of-of course."

I shove my phone into the front pocket of my shorts and meet his extended hand.

"This okay?" he checks.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it?—?"

I stop talking when a woman approaching us drops her gaze to our joined hands and pulls a face.

A yucky face.

I turn to Fitz. "Did you see her?"

"I did. That's why I'm asking."

I shake my head but keep our hands glued together.

We're in a big city, the third largest in the country, and I can't believe we just had someone give us a look simply for holding hands. Well, fuck that. I'm not going to let them win. This is the twenty-first century. I can hold whosever damn hand I want.

"This is going to sound terrible," I say as we keep walking, lifting my head a little higher because I've got nothing to hide. "But I never gave much thought to how hard LGBTQIA folk have it when it comes to something as simple as holding hands."

"Yeah. I didn't either. Living in Scuttlebutt lulled me into a false sense of security."

"Not everyone's as cool as the folks back home."

"It sucks, hey?"

"Big time."

We stroll past a cluster of schoolgirls in hideous lime-green uniforms. One of them sneaks a glance at us, her eyes widening before quickly turning back to her friends. "Hey, check those guys out."

They all turn to check us out and then start chattering amongst themselves.

"Oh my god, they're so hot."

"Look at that blond guy."

"Hey, I think I know the brown-haired one from TikTok…"

Fitz and I look at each other and silently agree to pick up the pace.

"At least the next generation is more with it," I say since the girls were more interested in our looks and who Fitz was than in the fact we're two dudes walking hand in hand.

"Yeah. Hopefully."

We stop a couple more times to record some content, and by the time we're ready to head back to the hotel and pack before our drive tomorrow, it's dark.

"I want to record one more thing," Fitz says.

"What's that?"

He takes his time answering. "You."

"Oh."

"It can be for just a sec. Less than a second. A millisecond. Or whatever's shorter than a millisecond."

"A nanosecond."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Even shorter than that."

"A picosecond."

"Shorter than that."

"Mate, that's as nerdy as I get. I don't know what's shorter than a picosecond."

He flashes a grin. "If Wilby were here, he'd say something like, Your dick."

I chuckle because he totally would.

Fitz pins me with a look that's just the right combination of expectant and adorable that it makes me cave.

"Okay," I agree, lifting a finger. "But for less than a picosecond."

"Deal."

I go over and stand right next to him. I know it won't be that short, but fuck it, why not show up for a few short seconds in one of his posts? The sky isn't going to cave in, the world's not going to end. Maybe I do need to lighten the fuck up a bit.

I aim the camera at us, the iconic Story Bridge glowing behind us, its steel arches illuminated with brilliant colours that reflect off the Brisbane River. The glow over the water makes the whole scene feel almost magical.

"Ready?" I ask.

"Always."

"Okay. Recording."

"And in case you were wondering who I'm here in Brissie with, or who the person often shooting my awesome videos is, it's this amazing guy right here. Muir Landers. My best mate. And also, my—" He cuts himself off by planting a kiss on my cheek. It tickles, and I let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle, which I will for sure be editing out. No need for the world to hear that.

I drop the phone and turn my head. Our foreheads bump, and the tips of our noses meet. Fitz's warm breath washes over me before he places a proper kiss on my mouth.

"Wait." I pull away. "Is this a distraction tactic so I overlook the fact that was more than a picosecond?"

"Yes, yes it is," he replies with a straight face.

"Okay. Just checking. Keep going."

And so he does. Kissing me with a gleaming bridge behind us and people walking by.

I couldn't care less about any of that, what anyone might be thinking. I feel a giant weight lift off my shoulders, like I've been holding my breath my entire life without realising it.

I feel…free.

I don't know where I fall within the rainbow family spectrum, what word fits me the best, but when I'm kissing Fitz, there is one word that makes complete and total sense.

Home.

"So, guys, I have an idea," I whisper conspiratorially even though Fitz is in the operating theatre.

"Let me guess who it could possibly be about," Wilby says, looking up from his phone with a smirk.

"Fuck you, and yes, it's about Fitz," I reply, and he, Linus, and Ryde laugh.

We're hanging out in the staff lounge.

It's been three weeks since the Brissie trip where we changed our relationship status from best friends to boyfriends-ish. We filled the guys in about it and to say they were elated would be a severe understatement. Even when we made a point of telling them we're taking it slow and letting things happen naturally, it couldn't tame their excitement.

"Fitz's birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and this year, I'm planning a surprise party."

Linus stops blowing across the cup of tea he just made. "But Fitz never celebrates his birthday," he says, his voice tinged with understanding, fully aware of why Fitz never marks the day.

"Why not?" Ryde asks.

Linus looks at me and gives a nod. "You tell him."

"Okay. Well… Fitz had a twin brother, Lleyton. He died when they were ten, and ever since, Fitz's birthday has never been a happy occasion for him."

"Oh, shit," Ryde says solemnly. "I had no idea. That makes total sense."

"So what's changed this year?" Wilby asks.

"A few things," I say. "One, he's turning thirty, which is a pretty big deal. Two, for the past few birthdays, we've started having small family dinners, so I think he's warming to the idea of commemorating the day somehow. And three, I've spoken to his parents about what I have in mind, and they love it."

"And what do you have in mind?" Linus asks, his tone sceptical. I can't blame him. My idea is not without risks.

"I want to throw him a surprise best of birthday party."

"What's a best of birthday party?" Ryde asks.

"Well, Fitz basically stopped celebrating his birthday when he was ten years old. So I want him to have what he missed out on in the following years. You know, things like water-balloon fights, Nerf battles, a treasure hunt, karaoke, a cheesy photo booth. All of it."

"You had me at karaoke," Wilby quips.

"When is it?" Ryde asks.

"June 21st, which also happens to be the winter solstice. It'll be at my place. Bring friends. Partners." I look between Linus and Ryde for a moment. "Sons of friends. Current employers." They flip me off in unison. "I'll do a big barbie, and I'll get Mrs. Mangle onto the cake. If you guys just want to bring whatever you're drinking, we should be set."

I glance over to Linus who looks like he still has reservations.

"You know what they say about good intentions," he says.

"It'll be fine," I assure him. "And if Fitz isn't feeling it for whatever reason, I'll politely ask everyone to bugger off."

"Count me in," Wilby says.

Ryde waves his hand. "Me, too."

Which only leaves…

"Yeah, of course I'll be there." Linus sighs. "I just hope for your sake it goes as well as you're thinking it will."

It will.

I really want to make this work. I hate what happened to Lleyton. It's a fucking tragedy, and something no family, no brother, should ever have to go through. So I completely understand why Fitz hates his birthday, it serves as a reminder of the most painful, gut-wrenching thing he's ever gone through.

But I'm confident he'll enjoy what I have planned. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure everything goes smoothly.

Including the extra special surprise I'm going to need his parents help with to pull off.