LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology

by Tracy Lorraine

  “Hi,” Miranda greets perkily, holding a bunch of papers close to her chest. “I was instructed to take you both on a tour, and then you guys would meet back with your teachers for dinner.”

  Offering Miranda a tight smile, I point my index finger up in the air. “Can you just give us a second?”

  “Sure.” She nods.

  When I close the door, Oliver looks at me funny. “What’s wrong? What do you need the minute for?”

  “I wanted to say something without an audience,” I answer honestly. “Because I want to make sure we’re on the same page this week.”

  He shakes his head. “What page?”

  I fall back on the door for support, trying to appear a little more unperturbed than I actually am. “You give me whiplash,” I blurt out honestly. “I don’t mind being nice to you.” I point down to his knee. “And I don’t mind touching you.

  “But I’m not going to put myself out there, only for you to act like you don’t know me in public. If you want to act like I don’t exist, then I don’t exist inside or outside this room.”

  He surprises me when he says, “And what’s the other option?”

  “I’m gay, and you’re in the closet, so I think friends will suffice for now.”

  My honesty seems to work against me, and I watch Oliver completely shut down before my eyes at the mention of being in the closet. His body drops onto the bed, his head buried in his hands.

  “Hey,” I say softly, my feet moving on their own accord toward him. I crouch down in front of him. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s your life and your choices.”

  Noticing my closeness, he raises his eyes to meet mine.

  “I’m sorry,” he huffs. “I’m not used to people actually paying attention to me.”

  “You mean, you’ve never been around anyone who knows your secret?”

  His head hangs in shame, and guilt urges me to change my approach. “Look, if you’re worried I’m going to tell anyone, I’m not. I would never do that.”

  He cuts me off, shaking his head. “It’s not that.”

  Miranda knocking on the door interrupts us. “I guess we’ll need to continue this later?”

  Shocking me, he holds a hand out between us. “Friends?”

  Cautiously, I slip my hand into his. “We can only try.”

  The rest of the day moves fairly quickly. Miranda’s tour is both mentally and physically exhausting, but also enlightening to see what life on the other side of high school could be like.

  Not only is the campus huge, but there’s so much to take in. So many things that feel a world away from the two-bedroom apartment I share with my mother and sister.

  It’s close enough I can visit them often, but far enough to start my own life.

  It’s the beginning of a new life, a new journey. The first step in being the man my mother raised me to be. To be the man who works hard enough to provide for her and my sister, Jem; to give back everything she’s ever given me.

  Surprisingly, it looked like Oliver felt the same way as me. Relaxed in a way I’d never seen him, and sure to never see past this week, I was able to appreciate I wasn’t the only one looking for my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

  Add in dinner with Mr. Reid and Mr. Grayson, and the idea of being friends with Oliver Benton is no longer far-fetched.

  Oliver opens the bedroom door, and fatigue hits me almost immediately.

  “I’m so fucking tired,” I groan. As soon as I get inside, I toe off my shoes and throw myself face forward onto the bed dramatically.

  A soft chuckle sounds from behind me. When I turn to face him, he’s got his back to me while he rummages through his duffel bag.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m going for a run.”

  “Where do you even get the energy?”

  “Did you see that track?” He looks over his shoulder with a huge smile on his face. “I thought the one at Greensday was amazing, plus I’ve got a little bit of extra energy I need to expend.”

  There are a million different ways that he can exert his extra energy that don’t require him leaving the room, but I keep those thoughts to myself. I don’t want to scare him after the progress we’ve just made.

  He enters the bathroom, only to come out seconds later dressed in his dri-fit shirt and shorts, but it’s the compression tights he wears underneath that catch my attention. They extend past the hem of his shorts and stop right above his knee.

  They’re like a second skin, outlining every single sculpted muscle in his thighs. Muscles that I would kill to wrap myself around.

  When I manage to pull my eyes away from his body, and back up to his face, I find Oliver smirking at me.

  “Something funny?” I droll.

  He shrugs. “Like what you see?”

  I sit up on my elbows in shocked horror. “Oliver Benton. Are you flirting with me?”

  The familiar flush of embarrassment creeps up his cheeks, but he doesn’t shy away from my gaze. “I’m just trying it out for size.”

  As nonchalant as he’s trying to appear, I can see the tension lining his jaw and gracing the length of his neck. I decide to let him off the hook, because I can see how hard he’s trying to just be.

  “If you ever wanna walk around in just those tights, I won’t mind,” I throw out casually.

  The side of his mouth lifts in a shy half-smile. “Good to know.”

  We fall into a comfortable silence as I watch Oliver neatly fold his day-old clothes and pack them into his duffel bag. When the door shuts behind him, my body sinks into the mattress, my tight muscles uncoiling with every second that passes.

  I pull my cell out of my pocket and text my mom. After she responds, I fuck around on my socials, checking my notifications and responding to a slew of texts from Lux.

  When the room starts to feel cold, I know I’ve been sitting on the bed, ass farting around for way too long. Taking the opportunity to use the bathroom without feeling rushed, I drag myself off the bed, gather my towel and toiletries, and head straight for the shower.

  It’s a tight fit, but not much smaller than what I’m used to at home. I quickly go through the motions, and realize I forgot to bring my clothes inside.

  Expecting Oliver to still be out, I freeze in the doorway when I see him sitting on the end of his bed, taking off his shoes in the dark. The light from the bathroom illuminates the dark room, and Oliver’s head snaps up at the sight.

  With a lot of skin on display, Oliver’s eyes flare with nothing but thirst and desire, roaming across my chest and down my stomach. My skin heats under his perusal, and my dick hardens beneath the towel.

  “Sorry,” I croak out. “I forgot to take my clothes in with me.”

  He shakes his head and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, like he’s purposefully trying to keep the words inside. When the silence lingers for seconds too long, I grip the edges of the towel tightly, and awkwardly hurry over to my side of the room.

  With my back to him, I pull my clothes out of my bag. “I can change out here if you need the shower.”

  When the light in the room dims into darkness, I release a staggered breath of relief into the empty room. I’m at a loss. With the feelings, with the attraction, with how the fuck we’re going to find lukewarm, when all I feel is hot every time Oliver looks at me.

  By the time the water switches off, I’m already in my sweatpants and wrapped up in the blankets. I turn on my side, so I can face the wall and give both Oliver and me some space.

  We made progress today, and I don’t want to be greedy, so I’m surprised when I hear his voice. “Micah,” he calls out softly. “Are you awake?”

  For a split second, I contemplate responding, but something in my gut says to ignore it. To let tonight run its course, because nothing good can come of how wound up I am.

  Eventually, I hear the bed creak, and the rustle of his blankets. Feeling both guilty and wired, I pull the cover up over my ears and want t
o succumb to sleep.

  It takes a while, but eventually I feel my eyelids get heavier, along with my body finally relaxing into the mattress. My mind straddles between the line of sleep and consciousness, but when I can feel my arm tingling and the room fill with a noise I can’t seem to place, I give up the fight and open my eyes.

  Wanting to know the time, I turn around with the intention of grabbing my cell off the shared nightstand, but when I see a sliver of light shining off Oliver’s own phone and the frantic rush he’s in to switch off the screen, I still.

  The room is dark, but there’s no mistaking his panicked breathing. He’s acting cagey, like he’s hiding something. Like he just got caught watching…

  “What are you watching?” I blurt out, my voice a little rusty from sleep.

  He stays silent.

  Still.

  Certain I’m crossing a million lines, I climb out of bed and walk over to his side of the room. I can’t see him as well as I want to, but I can feel him staring up at me all the same.

  “Show me what you were watching,” I demand.

  “Micah,” he protests.

  “Show. Me.”

  On a large and loud exhale, he raises his cell to his face and keys in the code. It’s a prick move, but I don’t bother waiting for him to hand it to me, plucking the device straight out of his hold.

  “Micah,” he shouts, but the sound of his voice fades into the background as my eyes take in the position of the two men on the screen.

  My imagination goes haywire, and all the blood rushes straight to my dick as I picture Oliver and me doing the exact same things. I reluctantly drag my eyes off their bodies, and angle the phone so the light allows for Oliver and I to see one another.

  He looks like he’s about to explode, desperation and apprehension written all over his face. But when his gaze drops to my cock, it’s game over. Any control I had flying straight out the window.

  “Please ask me to get into bed with you.”

  5

  Oliver

  My mouth doesn’t work, the words I want to say don’t come out. My tongue is thick and heavy, and my eyes will not stop staring at Micah’s erect dick, which is so close to my fucking face, I want nothing more than to taste it.

  The embarrassment of being caught watching porn is long gone, Micah standing over me in nothing but sweatpants, and his lean, sinewy chest on display the image now on the forefront of my mind.

  Knowing I will never forgive myself for passing this up, I take the gift the universe has dropped into my lap, and pull back the blankets, inviting him in.

  The bed is nowhere near big enough for the two of us, but after handing back my phone, he climbs in and underneath the blanket without a second thought.

  My body trembles at the anticipation of the unknown as he slides in beside me. Also sleeping without a shirt, his skin is now touching mine, and I’m almost certain my dick is leaking at the contact. Without a care in the world, he hooks his leg over my body, his thick shaft pressing into my hip, and places his hand right over my frantically beating heart.

  “Do you want to keep watching?” he asks, his breath warm near my ear.

  “You want to watch porn with me?”

  “I know you can feel how hard I am, and I know you are too.” He tries to move his hand down my torso, to my dick, but I slap my hand over his, stopping it.

  “If you touch me, I’m going to blow.”

  “Isn’t that the plan?” he smarts.

  “Not yet,” I say with a shaky breath.

  He runs his fingers back up my stomach while tucking his head into my neck. “Put the video on,” he says against my skin.

  Swallowing hard, I do as he says and fumble around with the lock screen and the volume. Now that he’s not asleep, I raise it ever so slightly, knowing the masculine groans and grunts from the video will only add to the whole experience.

  As soon as I press play, Micah’s lips find my skin. Bodies begin to move across the screen, but all I can focus on is the way his mouth skates up and down the column of my neck.

  When my body shudders, he pulls back. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” I whisper. “Please, don’t stop.”

  His lips return to my pulse. “Just keep watching.”

  My attempt is futile, my eyes blurring in a thick haze of lust. When his hand slides down my body a second time, I don’t stop him. And when he cups my aching cock, the slow pace becomes the last thing I want.

  Dropping my cell without a care of where it lands, every movement after feels like it happens at the speed of light.

  Taking control, I hook both an arm and a leg over Micah’s body, till I’m up on all fours, hovering over him. He looks up at me, my heart tripping at the blinding smile he aims my way.

  “There you are,” he says, his eyes sparkling with a hint of pride. He slides his hand around the back of my neck. “You ready to take what you want?”

  As if I needed permission, every wall I’ve ever erected comes crashing down at his words. He’s here, and he’s mine for the taking. I slam my lips down on his, and Micah doesn’t even waver in his response to me.

  Our mouths move aggressively against one another in a frenzy of tongues and teeth and desperation. I’m free falling, and Micah has no qualms with being the one to catch me. It’s one thing to know you’re gay and do nothing about it, and it’s another to get your first taste and realize there’s absolutely no going back.

  As I lower my body onto his, rubbing my cock against his, I know with unparalleled clarity the trajectory of my whole life will be dependent on this single moment.

  The kiss.

  The touching.

  Him.

  “Fuck, this feels too good.” I pant. “I need to slow down.”

  Micah’s hands travel down my back, settling on and squeezing my ass. “Why would we need to do that?”

  Because I know I will never get this chance again. The freedom. The vulnerability. The absolute endless hours of touching and tasting and being just me.

  “I feel like there’s so much I want to do to you, and with you,” I tell him honestly. “I just can’t fucking think straight.”

  “Hey.” He places a hand on my chest, his voice soothing me. “Let me take care of you, okay? I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

  “I want it to be good for you too.”

  “Please,” he says with a smirk. “It will be my absolute pleasure showing you why it’s so good on this side of the line.”

  He moves to sit up, and I shuffle a little farther down, resting on my haunches to give him room. Placing his palm on my cheek, he lowers his lips to mine and kisses me gently, such a stark contrast to the direction this was going only minutes ago.

  His mouth moves across my jaw and down my neck. When he sucks on the skin right above my collarbone, my cock throbs.

  “I want to suck you off,” he murmurs.

  Groaning, my head falls forward. “You can fucking ravage me any way you want, but I’m not going to last long.”

  He continues to kiss and lick my skin. “You telling me all that training you do and you won’t be able to get it back up again?”

  I pull back and raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you challenging me?”

  “Are you up for it?” he teases.

  Lightly, I shove one of his shoulders and grab my dick. “I’m fucking up alright.”

  We both chuckle, and when our eyes meet, I’m met with more than just heat and want. Micah doesn’t look at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, he’s looking at me like he knows me. And in all the ways that truly matter, he does know me.

  Relaxed. Comfortable. Happy. This is the very best version of me.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he says.

  “Like what?”

  He slowly licks his lips. “Like you might fall in love with me.”

  I wait for the panic to grip me. The fear of feeling something so irrevocable for somebody else, but it doesn’t
come, because in the safety of these four walls, falling in love with Micah Stewart might change my life in all the ways I can’t seem to do on my own.

  Without a worry in the world, I launch myself onto him, pinning him back down into the mattress. Fuse my lips to his, one hundred percent sure I was in love with Micah’s mouth. “Enough with all the feelings,” I say in between kisses. “You gonna suck my dick or what?”

  Using all his strength, Micah rolls us around so I’m the one now on my back. He trails the length of my body with his mouth, licking and kissing every inch of my skin.

  A loud moan escapes when he teases my nipples with his tongue, and when he finally passes my navel, I want to grip my cock to stop myself from coming on the spot.

  Micah climbs off of me and off the bed. “Move to the edge, and sit up,” he demands.

  Impatient, I do as he says, and then raise my hips to get rid of my sweats. After I’ve kicked them off, he gets down on his knees and settles back between my legs, and I will the image to sear itself into my brain. Because Micah Stewart on his knees for me is every single fantasy come to life.

  My cock rests on my lower stomach, the head purple and glistening with pre-come. Micah peers up at me with hungry eyes. He wraps warm fingers around my shaft, and it jerks in his hand.

  When the tip of his tongue circles my crown, I wonder how life could ever get any better than right now. And when he covers all of me with his mouth, I’m almost certain I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  He bobs up and down on my length, both his mouth and his fist in tandem. His hair falls around him like a curtain, and on instinct, my fingers run through the strands, pushing it away from his face, giving me an uninterrupted view of his lips around my cock.

  It takes everything I have not to push his head down farther, but when I feel the back of his throat and hear him gag, the urge becomes impossible.

  “Fuck,” I hiss, my hand roughly guiding him lower, and heat pools at the base of my spine, my balls feeling full and impossibly heavy. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Tugging at his hair, I try to pull him off me. “I’m gonna blow in your mouth,” I warn.