by JD Chambers
He can’t let himself look at me for long. He fidgets with his menu and then the glass of water.
“You really can’t sing,” I say, just as he takes a sip and chokes on it.
“I’m so sorry.” I reach across and pound on his back until he swats me away.
Craig takes a deep breath, then laces his fingers together and places them in his lap.
“Zach, I know I fucked up. You’re so amazing, and being there with your family that weekend just reminded me that, well, I’m not. And with all the crap they were giving you, I just thought if you had a boyfriend who was professional and smart and someone they respected, then you wouldn’t have to try so hard to get along with them. It would make your life so much easier.”
My mouth drops open, but before I can even begin to tell him how ridiculous that is, he stops me. “Please, just let me get through this.”
I shut my mouth and let him, even if I really want to share my revelation that we both have these idealized versions of each other that we really need to drop.
“I realize now that was stupid,” he continues. “I should have told you about my family, or lack thereof, growing up. You’re so smart, if you had only known, I’m sure you would have seen all my freak-outs coming a mile away. Or I could have at least talked to you about my insecurities, instead of making these unilateral decisions that I thought were best for you.”
He finally takes a breath and looks at me, and I feel like his heart is in that look.
“What changed?” I ask, because I really want to know what made him come to his senses.
“Kieran made-”
“Kieran?”
“He’s one of my gaming friends. The redheaded guy you saw me with the other night. We’re just friends. But he’s the one who made me see that it wasn’t you or even your parents who didn’t think I was good enough for you. It was only me. That I needed to learn to accept myself.”
I blink back tears at the idea that Craig would ever feel so unlovable. That I was so afraid of embarrassing myself that I didn’t let Craig know he was loved. I reach across the table, palm up, and waggle my fingers until he places a hand in mine. I clasp it so damn hard, I probably break his fingers, but I don’t want to let go.
“If I ever let you think for a second that you weren’t worthy of me, I’m sorry. You are an amazing man who inspires me to be myself and to love myself, quirkiness and all. You are kind and generous and adventurous, and absolutely fucking beautiful inside and out, even when you’re scared shitless or embarrassing yourself for the sake of others. And although you can’t sing, neither can I, so we’re all good there.”
Craig laughs through his sniffles and I catch a tear that escapes to roll down his cheek.
“I love you, Zach. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, except for making me get all mushy and emotional before we even get our miso soup.”
He huffs out another gentle laugh but still looks tentative, and I realize I may have been thinking it, but I haven’t said it out loud yet. So I do.
“I love you too. And I miss you. So fucking much.”
Our soup finally arrives, but we keep one set of hands linked. We turn in our sushi menu and I order crickets, making Craig cry with laughter. The conversation sobers once Craig gets talking about his family. He never knew his father, and his mother was a drunk and druggie who left him to fend for himself at a young age. When he tells me the story, he acts as though the fact that he couldn’t go to college was the worst result of their actions, but it’s obviously the root of all of his insecurities and fears over being unworthy and unlovable. And I’m determined to make sure Craig never feels that way again.
Our sushi arrives and we finally separate, but Craig continues to share. He tells me about getting accepted to Front Range Community College and Ted’s job offer.
“I’m going to take Ted up on his offer.” He eyes me as he says it, still wary of my acceptance. Still unsure of his choices.
“I think Ted is a much better businessman than I gave him credit for, to see all of your potential and reward you for it. School isn’t for everyone. Just because I’m wired that way doesn’t mean it’s a good choice for you. You love Game Over. And you’re going to be a brilliant manager. I’m so proud of you.”
Craig’s the one blushing this time, but he deserves it.
“You and I both need to push each other off our pedestals, you know?” I say, but he doesn’t look like he gets me. “You think I’m this genius, and I might be book smart, but I have the social awareness of an android. And it’s your social skills that tricked me into thinking you had it all figured out.”
“It?”
“You know, life and shit.”
Craig laughs. “Ha. No. Really not at all.”
“Right. So, you know. We’re human. And I’m finding I like that about you.”
Craig smiles at that until the waitress brings over one final dish, and I break out into an enormous grin as the bowl of crickets is set on the table.
Craig tries to mask his look of horror, but it doesn’t work. His voice sounds forced as he asks, “So … was that Parker I saw you with today?”
“You’re stalling,” I say with a laugh as he gives the crickets the side-eye. “But yes, that was Parker. It’s sort of a long story, but he and Shelby are divorcing and he’s staying on our couch temporarily.”
“Wow, so you two are getting along now?”
“He’s not so bad away from Shelby and my family. He realized, through the whole ordeal, what a bitch she is.”
He’s still not trying the crickets and I’m positive he thinks he’s been successful at avoiding them. I tap my finger against my mouth, internally cheering as Craig gets distracted by my lips. “Hmm. Maybe I need to give you some incentive.” I lick my lips and the tip of my finger, and Craig lets out a soft whine.
“Incentive for what?” he squeaks.
“For my boyfriend to eat a damn cricket.”
Craig puts his hand back across the table and twines our fingers together.
“Say it again.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No, cricket. The word, it gets me hot.” Craig fake-pants out his words.
I laugh and pull my hand away. “Asshole.”
“But I’m your asshole.”
“Mmmm.” I pick his hand back up and kiss his fingertip. “That you are. All mine. And now that I know what makes you run, I’m never letting you get away again.”
And for that, Craig pops a damn cricket in his mouth.
33
Zach
It’s been over a month since Parker left Shelby when my mother finally calls, early on a Saturday afternoon. It’s also my birthday, so I’m not certain which is the reason for this honor, but Parker and I have talked it over and I’m prepared but dreading the conversation.
Craig is over and we’ve all been watching a movie together. Craig has big plans for me tonight, but Ben didn’t want to be left out, so he got me a birthday cupcake and let me pick the movie. He didn’t even roll his eyes or whine about having to watch Blade Runner again. I press pause and shush them before answering.
“Hello, Mother.”
Craig makes a “reek reek” sound with stabby motions and Parker and Ben have to cover their mouths to keep from laughing too loud. I’d glare, but it’s too funny and I’d break my phone composure.
“Happy Birthday, Zachariah,” she says.
“Thanks.”
She hesitates for only a second before asking what I’m assuming is the actual purpose of this call. “Have you heard from Parker?”
“Why? What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” she says, and I can only imagine the constipated expressions her poor phone is having to face right now. “Shelby is looking for him.”
“Is he missing?”
“Yes,” she gushes and I have to wonder how much is her lying to me and how much was Shelby lying to her. “Shelby came home from a trip to
see her parents, and Parker is missing. His car is gone, and she’s called all of their friends and no one has heard from him.”
“Oh my god, did she call the police?” Parker is looking on with a slightly terrified expression. But I’m not going to give him up. Just torment my mom a little.
“Well, no, he left a note.”
“If he left a note, then he isn’t missing, is he?”
“But it’s so unlike him. To abandon Shelby when she needs him the most. We’re thinking maybe he wasn’t in his right mind from grief. Or someone forced him to leave.”
“Like the mob?” I say with probably too much enthusiasm. “You know, Parker used to talk about poker nights at the frat house. He could have owed someone money.”
Ben has to leave the room and Parker is suffocating himself on a couch cushion. Craig’s nostrils flare and I think my evilness is turning him on.
My mom chokes a little in the background and I think she might have actually taken me seriously.
“Look, Mom, you obviously don’t think I’ve had any contact with Parker because he wouldn’t dare lower himself to talk to me or my gay friends. So I appreciate the birthday call and all, but next time, why don’t you not.”
“See, this is the type of attitude that isn’t helpful. And it’s what got you into trouble last month and poor Shelby paid the price.”
“I love you and Dad, but I’m done. When I came out in college, I told you either to accept me, or to let me go. You decided on acceptance, but I think you really need to look up the definition, because it definitely isn’t ignore, berate, and belittle. So until you learn to actually accept me, and not just pretend to tolerate me, then I won’t be around anymore. If you try to call me again with anything other than a sincere, heartfelt apology, I’ll block your number. A process I’m sure Parker is intimately familiar with.”
I can hear the beginning of her gasp before I hit the end button. Craig immediately wraps me in his arms, but I’m fine. It’s something I should have done ages ago.
“Let’s finish the damn movie.”
“Glove box. Put it on,” Craig says to me as we drive from Fort Collins heading south.
I open up the bag to find a cock ring inside.
“Seriously? And how long am I going to have to wait?”
“So impatient,” Craig smirks, and runs a hand over my already semi-hard cock. “Fuck, baby.”
Craig has been planning my birthday surprise for weeks, and after the fucking delights of this afternoon, I’m in need of some relief. I told him what I was comfortable with, what I would like and what I wouldn’t, and he took care of the rest. All I know is that it’s going to be one hell of a kinky birthday and that I trust Craig to make it amazing.
“Put it on,” he repeats, and I unzip, right there in the car, out in the open. Thankfully it’s after six and already dark, because there’s a lot of traffic headed to Denver on a Saturday night. I’d be putting on quite a show, which Craig is fully aware of.
The ring is a thin leather band with snaps, but I’m too hard already and am having a difficult time getting it to fit. Craig notices my struggle and reaches over and pinches the head of my dick, hard. Harder than playtime hard.
“Ow!” I squeal in a totally unembarrassing way, but the pain worked and my cock deflates enough to snap the ring around the base of my cock.
Craig answers with an evil chuckle. Bastard. Brilliant fucking bastard.
I’m positive that everyone in the hotel can tell something’s off with me, because I’m walking like I’ve been on a horse all day. Craig’s smirk would indicate he’s totally aware of how uncomfortable I am and is very pleased with himself over it.
After the eternity that it takes to reach our room, I’m about to complain about the humiliation I just suffered, but the sight of the room shuts my mouth. The suite is massive, and what we’ve walked into is a full living room with an open kitchen off to the side. Everything is sleek and sophisticated, but not gaudy like that fucking Brown Palace.
Craig takes our bags through a doorway and I follow him into what is a separate bedroom with a massive king size bed. He digs through his bag and tosses a bulb, a huge bottle of lube, and my favorite dildo onto the bed.
“Get yourself ready,” he says, reaching out to rub a thumb over the outline of my hard dick in my pants. Shit, I didn’t realize how noticeable it was in these dress pants. Now everyone in the lobby knows what we’re playing. A rush of blood pulses south, but with a sharp throb it retreats, having nowhere to go.
“I’ve got some things to take care of out here. Hopefully I won’t be too long, but it should be enough time for you to shower and get yourself nice and worked up.” He picks up the dildo, which is not too long, but very thick and a shimmery purple, and smacks me across the chest with it. “When I get back, I want you on all fours, facing the headboard, with this sticking out of your pretty hole.”
I’m almost thankful for the ring, because I’m pretty sure all his bossy talk would have made me blow my load already. But then another sharp twinge shoots from my cock up my groin and across my balls, and I’m really messed up. I can’t figure out if this is amazing or torture.
At least with Craig out of the room, I can go about my preparation with more clearheaded efficiency. As long as I don’t think about it, I’m just cleaning my ass for a boring old session with my hand. I just can’t look down at the reminder between my legs. Harder to ignore is the fact that I’ve heard the outer door open and close multiple times now, and there are low voices one bedroom door away that most definitely aren’t Craig.
Nerves run up my arms and I almost drop the dildo. I bury my face in a pillow while I position myself and use my fingers first to prepare myself. I barely feel the stretch and burn, don’t even think twice or get a flicker of arousal when I replace them with the dildo because my mind is racing.
I can’t believe we’re here. We’re doing this. I’ve wanted it for so long, but this is a line there’s no coming back from. What if I can’t do it? What if Craig hates it? What if he really thinks I’m a slut after this?
The door snicks open and closed so quickly I wouldn’t imagine anyone had entered until I feel a hand caress my cheek.
“Just checking on you, beautiful.” Craig caresses my jaw and neck, and I instantly relax. This is why everything is going to be okay. Because Craig is here, and in charge, and we’re in this together. I know he won’t let me get in over my head and that he won’t let either of us do something that we’d regret. That’s what makes this so special. That we trust each other.
I turn my head that’s resting on my arm and smile at him. “Good,” I say, and embarrassingly enough, my voice is already stretched thin with desire.
“We’ll be right in, okay?”
I nod, too overwhelmed to say anything else.
Craig growls as he takes me in, and smacks my ass on the way out. All that’s left for me to do is take a deep breath and wait.
34
Craig
The sight of Zach presenting his ass with my handprint prominently displayed makes my insides quiver. The pale halo of fuzz around his hole is already sticky with lube as he keeps twisting a dildo in and out. It’s good thing I bought a cock ring for me too, because I’m not sure I’d last otherwise.
I’d been waiting for our other participants in the living area of our suite while Zach prepared himself. Drove me crazy to think about what he was doing behind that closed door, but I have to be methodical about this, which is honestly a weird feeling for me. More than anything, I want Zach to be able to let go and ride the waves of whatever’s about to happen, so I’m taking his place as the one worrying about the details. I do not, however, have a checklist.
I’d driven down to Denver last weekend to meet with interested parties at a local bar. There were a couple of guys who gave me the creeps and one who brought a contract with him. A little too intense for what we’re looking for, but thanks. I found three guys who were laid-back, looking for
fun, and willing to play by whatever ground rules I laid down. Those are the ones here tonight.
When Zach and I arrived, I put our wallets in the safe, first thing. I’m probably being paranoid, but again, it’s what Zach would do if his brain weren’t on “I’m about to get fucked by multiple guys” overload right now. Once all three are here, we shed our clothes in the main room; that way they can just scoot back out the door once they’re through without any extra disruption.
Ground rules are – blow jobs bare, condoms for his ass, relube each time. But they can blow their load anywhere on the outside of his body or in his mouth. And if he says stop at any time, then they get the fuck out immediately. One of the guys apparently does this sort of thing a lot and said it’s not uncommon for one of the partners to suddenly freak out and call the whole thing off. The others agreed and seemed totally relaxed about the possibility of that happening. I think I picked some decent guys, fingers crossed. And hey, if we call it off, they’ve still got each other for relief.
I walk up to my quivering man first, while the others hang back and let me take the lead. I stroke a soothing hand along his hip and he shivers, he’s wound so tight. One hand tugs at the dildo while he rests his forehead on his other forearm.
“Now that is one beautiful sight, baby.”
I pet and stroke his body until he raises his head and our eyes meet. I’m blown away by the trust I see there. He trusts me to do this, to lead this and make it amazing for him, and I’m determined not to let him down. I couldn’t keep my lips away from his in this moment if I tried. He drops his hand, leaving the dildo still slightly wedged in his ass, and lifts up to bring our lips more firmly together. He presses against me like he might vibrate into nothingness if I weren’t here to hold him down.