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Carter blinks, then his smile expands, his dimple popping.
And he knows . He fucking knows that I’m gay. And more than just accepting it—more than just letting me be me—he kissed me.
And he’s still here, his eyes on mine, his feet sliding forward on the tile, hand coming up, his fingers brushing over my forearm, lightly, then his hand cups the side of my neck.
His thumb brushes along my jaw, and a shiver slips down my spine.
I groan before his lips are even on mine, hardly trusting my legs to keep me standing. My heart hammers like it’s building to something, an expanding balloon. The moment is so clear, and the steam is thick around us. A drop of water beads on his top lip and slides onto mine as we kiss.
His thumb smooths along my neck, and then it’s like we jump into some abyss. We crush together—chests, stomachs, hips, cocks, thighs, knees. My balls tighten, my dick pulses.
“ Fuck .” I bite the word into his mouth, then lean away to catch my breath. My head thunks back against the tile, my eyes rolling. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, struggling to keep from busting a nut right in my shorts.
“You good?” he asks. “If you’ve never kissed, does that mean… you’ve never done any of this?”
I squeeze my eyes tighter. “Never.”
His wet hair brushes my cheek. “Wanna change that?”
“ Jesus , Carter.” I open my eyes to too bright light. He’s right there, and I feel his energy soaking into me. I slide my palm down over his warm biceps, his muscles flexing under my touch, to his elbow. Then his forearm. Blood beats in a vein across the back of his wrist so strongly that I can feel it under my thumb.
He lets out a fractured breath as I slide my nails across his stomach.
“Have you—?” I clear my throat, meeting his eyes again. My heart is pounding so hard it’s beating in my tongue . I mean, holy fuck. I didn’t know that was possible. “Have you ever done shit with a guy before?”
His lips press faintly. A flick of worry? “No.” His thumb tracks along the bottom of my jaw. “But you —?” He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like he’s debating what to say. “You are so fucking sexy that it hurts my eyes. Seriously. I’ve got to squint. Or get an eye patch, so it only hits me half as hard.”
A laugh belts out of me, my fingers playing along the waistband of his shorts. “An eyepatch?”
“I’d look cool in an eyepatch. Kinda dangerous, you know?”
“You could totally do an eyepatch.” I’m half-laughing, but I mostly just want to kiss him again.
Shit, can I? Just… lean forward and kiss him?
My smile fades, my attention flicking to his lips.
His eyes darken. “Go ahead.”
Shit, okay. I tug on the waistband of his shorts, drawing him closer.
I lead our kiss this time, slow at first, until his tongue slides along my bottom lip, and then we’re both grabbing for each other, wet hands on wet skin. I’m aware of every rasp of his breath, every sound, every drop of water sliding off his lips.
By the time we break away, I’m set to pop again already. Honestly, I thought it would be a little easier to control myself.
I lean back, biting on my molars. “I’m gonna bust in my shorts.”
“Then take ‘em off.” His teeth scrape over his bottom lip, his amber eyes so bright. “Or, if you want, I could? If that’s okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
My board shorts are looser than his, sitting kinda low, my dick all cramped under the waistband. It only takes a light tug on the elastic for him to pull them down to my thighs. I kick them off the rest of the way.
So… I’m naked in the shower. With Carter. And… now I guess the next part is to?—
“Your dick’s so pretty.” Carter’s eyes ping to my face. “Although I'm not surprised.”
I blink. “What?”
“I dunno.” He shrugs a shoulder. “You’re kinda astounding. It’s something I’ve had to deal with for a while now.”
He grins, and I snort out a laugh, trying not to think about how my dick is waving madly between us, like a conductor on a hunt for an orchestra. Is this weird for him? Is it weird for me? “Astounding?”
His smile fades. “Totally.”
His honesty hits me right in the chest. A full onslaught.
“You are too,” I say, my voice thick. “Astounding, I mean. You know that, right? I think it all the time.”
His eyes slip closed, for just a moment, before they open again. “You always make me feel so good.”
You too, Carter.
I kiss him, not questioning it this time, my heart full out thundering as his fingers slide along my side, then halfway to my navel. He pauses there. Is he nervous? Shit, is he debating?
Then he fists me, in one fast motion. I struggle to keep kissing him, but it’s messy and all over the place, and the only thing I can focus on is the way he’s stroking me. I tear away, pressing my forehead onto his shoulder, his other arm partway looping around to hold me, my cockhead darkening as it appears and disappears into the crook of his hand. My knees—even the good one—are close to buckling.
Holy fuck .
He moans like he’s the one being stroked. We struggle with the rhythm at first, but he laughs and says, “We’ll figure it out.” And we do.
Is it weird to say that I never imagined someone touching me? Not that I’m untouchable or anything—I’m a good-looking guy. I figured someone would want to. But it never connected in my fantasies. It was always me on my knees.
Until now. Until it became Carter.
Tightness laces across my stomach, burns in my thighs, and quivers in my balls. His shoulder is hard against my forehead, my fingers gripping onto his arms. My hips move desperately, ass flexing, jaw locking as my muscles start to shake. The haze keeps thickening, pulling us closer. His breath rasps against my ear.
“Fuck, bro.” He kisses me there, under the hollow of my ear, and I’m so far gone that I don’t even fully register the “bro” or the kiss. I just pump harder into his fist, gripping onto him for fucking life.
I tip my head back, wanting to see him. I feel like I’m in the ocean, moving with the waves. My eyes are half hooded. He’s fuzzy and close. My lips part—I need to tell him I’m going to cum. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?
“Theo,” he whispers. Water drips from his hair and clusters on his lashes.
I moan, saying something about how good it feels. Or how good he feels? I dunno.
“Your eyes are so blue,” he whispers.
My throat tightens. His strokes falter.
“All those football muscles.” He licks his lips, continuing like it’s the most natural thing to say while he’s jacking me off in the shower. “So damn hot. And your chest heaving and throat blushing. You’re sexy as shit.”
Jesus.
My release rockets out, plastering me, cursing as I come, releasing all over those banana shorts, pulsing in his fist, gripping onto his arms. I pull him to me, needy for his mouth. His lips are warm, my dick trembles against his shorts. My fingers tremble too.
I’ve never cum like that.
Not even close.
It takes me a few minutes to remember where I am, to understand that I’m still standing, that Carter is a fully separate person from me. I literally have this moment where it feels like we’re part of each other. I don’t know if that’s normal, but at some point, I realize that the ties of his shorts are scraping against my softened junk, and that he’s still hard. And that I want to suck his dick.
“Can I blow you?” My voice is rough, my stomach and thighs and balls still quivering from that cum.
And his response… it's so Carter that I laugh.
“Hell, yeah!” He beams.
His response does more than make me laugh. It makes me smile . Not just my lips, but my whole body as I grasp at those ties, my cum slick on them as I tug them loose, and then we both laugh as we fight to peel those too-tight bananas off.
The bananas squelch on the floor, and my heart thumps double-time as I’m looking at his dick, perfectly arched, like a big, beautiful invitation.
This is it .
I mean, maybe. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. He could stop me at any time. But he seems as ready to go as I am.
And, shit, here goes.
I start to slide to my knees when his hand catches my arm.
His forehead wrinkles. “Should we move?”
“Hungh?”
“Should we move somewhere better?”
“Better?” I frown. “Are you done with the shower?”
“Nah, I like it here.” He nods towards my knee. “But I don’t want you to hurt.”
He’s worried about me. I lick my lips. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll say something if not?”
“Of course.”
“You promise?”
I laugh, settling my knees on the wet tile, a spark of pain there, but it’s just what’s normal now. “Yes, I promise.”
“Okay.” A flicker of concern crosses his face. “You’re getting that tension in your hands like you do when it’s hurting you, and?—?”
I swallow his cock. I don’t even think about it. I probably should have built it up more or something? Made it a little better for him? Licked his head a bit? But I just do it in one fast motion, sucking him past my lips, and?—
Holy shit, I’m sucking dick.
And his taste . I sweep my tongue around his head, feeling him out. I’ve watched porn, of course. But this is nothing like that.
He’s not panting and groaning and gritting his teeth and shoving into me. He’s just… looking at me, eyes dark and intense, breath coming hard, but it’s a softer moment. It’s slower.
“Holy shit.” His eyes widen like he’s never seen me before. “You’re so damn perfect , bro.”
I still.
My brain short circuits. My mouth forgets what to do.
He just said that.
He fucking said that.
It’s not in the exact tone he used in my fantasies, but it’s close enough.
Actually, it’s better, because it’s him . It’s who he is, the way he says things. I hate that he thinks people don’t take him seriously because in my eyes, there’s no one on this earth as genuine as Carter. There’s no one I’ve met who is as authentically real.
I’m hardly moving now, just kneeling before him with a tinge of pain in my knee, and his dick in my mouth, not doing what I should be doing regarding the sucking cock thing. Everything is still except for the patter of water and the chaos in my thoughts.
His brows pinch. “Did I say something wrong?” Panic laces through his eyes. “Shit, sorry. I?—?”
I pull off his cock and swallow the pool of saliva in my mouth. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I just… I imagined you saying things while I…?”
He blinks. “You imagined this?”
“Um…?” Fuck. “Just things you’d say, I guess.”
His grin starts slowly, spreading across his face until it’s this huge, effervescent light. Dimple and all. “Like what?”
Oh, shit. Okay. Well… “Things like telling me I was doing a good job?”
“You are totally doing a good job. What else?”
I hesitate, heat flaring over my cheeks. “I don’t know, man.”
He’s all excitement, and that releases something in my chest. I could just tell him. And he’ll listen to me. He kinda always does.
I lick my lips. “You said good things about me. Like a lot. But… you don't have to do that. You don’t need to make shit up.”
“I’d never made shit up.” He tilts his head, looking genuinely confused. “I’m always thinking good thoughts about you, so I’d just be saying what’s already in my head.”
Jesus, Carter.
I close my eyes, drinking in the steam and the faint lingering scent of my cum and his sunblock, feeling every bit of my body—the pulse of my dick, the desire in my chest.
When I look at him again, he still seems worried, so I smile. “Cool if I blow you now, bro?”
I tag a “bro” on for him. I don’t know why—it still makes me hesitate. But it gets him to laugh, so it’s worth it. Then I take him again, deeper, filling my mouth, from roof to throat.
I feel him everywhere. Hear him. Taste him. I do my best—it’s not perfect, but he keeps telling me it is. And what’s more—I believe he thinks that. Everything around us feels like an oil painting, fuzzing into obscurity, and I’m latched onto his eyes, his face, his body, his words.
Fuck, his words .
They’re right out of my fantasy. No, they’re better. Because they’re Carter .
“That feels so good, bro!”
“What the fuck did you just do with your tongue?”
“Shit, Theo.” His voice softens. “You are perfect. In every way.”
I inhale it all, my hand fisting around my cock as I harden again, tears streaming down my cheeks—that aren’t just from him nudging practically to my tonsils. It’s everything, coalescing together. The words that he spills, taking me somewhere I’ve never been before.
I ride through with him, my eyes trying to roll, but I keep locked on him as he flexes, shaking as he floods my mouth, cum dribbling on my chin, before my hand speeds inelegantly, chasing after him, needing that release, shooting out over his thighs and knees, choking on his release and my saliva.
I think he says my name. I think he tells me how perfect that was. I think he kisses my cheek as I stand, but it’s all muffled, coming from somewhere else.
Then I hear his voice right by my ear as I’m holding onto him for support. “Breathe.” His warm hand is on the side of my neck. “You’re choking.”
I am. I’m choking on his cum. And I was choking on his dick before that. I wonder how long it’s been since I took a full breath, but I do as he guides me out of the shower, the water flipping off, a towel closing around my shoulders, my contact case landing on the counter.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says.
And the only thing I think is I know .