by K Webster
I choke up as I say the words, wishing my parents loved me the way Brayden’s love him.
“I’m not ready yet,” Brayden chokes out. “I know that makes me a wuss, but…”
“No, it doesn’t,” I argue. “It makes you human.” I pull him into a hug. “But one day, when you’re ready, I believe that when you tell them, they’ll be there for you and a huge weight will be lifted off your shoulders.”
By the time we make it back outside, Ashton and Drew are standing, getting ready to leave.
“Well, we gotta bail,” Ashton says, snagging my hand. “Have to get started on making some grandbabies, Mom.”
Tim shakes his head, chuckling. “I don’t think he’s kidding.”
“He’s not,” Bray, Drew, and I all say at once, making Ashton grin evilly.
“Please come see us again soon,” Molly says, hugging each of us. “This was a wonderful evening.”
Once we’ve bid our goodbyes, we all walk out and I can’t help but think this is the best family dinner I’ve ever been to.
“I can’t believe I got talked into this,” Drew complains, fussing with his mask. “It’s just asking for trouble.”
Mia hooks her arm with his once we get out of Brayden’s SUV at the party. “No one will know it’s you,” Mia assures Drew. “Plus, you have enough blood on your shirt and mask, I don’t think anyone is going to mess with you. You look scary.”
Scary hot.
I try to unthink that thought, but it already happened. When we went to the Halloween shop yesterday, we were left with the most generic shit to choose from. Drew got a Jason Voorhees hockey mask and opted for regular clothes splattered with fake blood. I’d tried to encourage him to be Chippendale Jason and wear a bowtie with no shirt—even offered to oil him up—but he just rolled his eyes and ignored me.
“I look scary,” I throw in. “Right, Kurt?”
Brayden looks my way and busts out laughing. Again. My costume is wicked cool. Fuck him. Drew starts to laugh and then Mia cackles too.
“Fuck the three of you,” I grumble.
“It’s just… I can’t…” Brayden wheezes, trying to speak through his chuckles. “I can’t fucking take you serious with those eyebrows.”
I waggle them at him, making him howl even more. “I’m the devil. These are my evil eyebrows.” I’d taken a lot of time to white out my face with makeup and then draw on these cartoony evil brows with black eyeliner. They’re overexaggerated and pretty awesome if I do say so myself.
“I can’t look at you, man,” Brayden says, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“At least my costume is fucking cool,” I snap. “Unlike whatever that is.” I wave at that. Him. All his ’90s grunge glory. He’s such a poser, though. Who wears a Nirvana T-shirt to dress like Kurt Cobain? Kurt Cobain never wore his own band T-shirts. His blond wig was supposed to be for a female flapper, but it had been opened and was a little fucked up, so he thought it made him look like Kurt. No, it makes him look stupid.
“Don’t pout,” Brayden says, grinning. “If you don’t look at your face, you’re all right.”
My face is cool, but he’s right. The rest of me is even better. I found a devil horns headband and a tail that I attached to my black, metal studded belt, but the rest is just cool shit I had. A red tank, tight, holey black jeans, and my high-top red, Doc Marten combat boots with black laces. MiMi painted my nails black. I look hot. Like the devil’s supposed to be.
“Mia looks the best,” Drew says, glancing over his shoulder as Brayden and I follow. “An angel is fitting.”
Barely fits is more like it.
And I’m so fucking into it, too.
I admire her cute ass as it bounces with each step she takes. Her tight white dress barely covers the ass I love to bite. She has on white and silver striped thigh-high socks and white platform shoes. The dress is sleeveless and dips low in the front. It’s super slutty and I can’t wait to fuck her in it. Her dark hair is in cute pigtails that make for great handlebars when she gives me head. Instead of her glasses, she put in contacts and white false eyelashes. She found a headband with a sparkly halo and her lips are painted silver with glitter all over them.
“I cannot wait to get my cock messy with that glitter shit,” I say, reaching forward to pinch her ass.
My angel glances at me, a devilish grin on her face. “You’re so bad.”
“It’s literally my only job in life, MiMi. To be bad. Devil and all.”
We make it inside the packed party house, immediately swarmed by people. Drew lingers by me while Mia gets attacked by Sasha, who wears a skanky nerd costume complete with black-rimmed glasses. I find it funny that her attempt to be a nerd is a failed one. Mia rocks her nerd outfit every day and looks hot as shit too without having to show one quarter of the skin Sasha does. Brayden gets hauled away by a group of big, beefy dudes.
“Stop being so tense, man,” I say, nudging Drew. “You really do put off serial killer vibes right now.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Let’s make fun of people instead. Like Sasha. What the fuck does Mia see in this girl? I would rather my girlfriend not enroll in the Stepford Wives program.”
“A lot of the girls here are like that. Mia’s just special and different. She’s not going to ever try to be like Sasha,” Drew says. “Mia’s smarter than that.”
“Oh fucking great,” I grumble, turning to face Drew so I don’t have to see that dickhead Travis. “Douchebag in a cowboy costume twelve o’clock.”
Drew steps closer, peering over my shoulder past me, looking creepy and intense in his Jason mask. Okay, so maybe it suits him, but I still prefer the Chippendale version better.
“He’s coming this way,” Drew warns.
“Because he’d recognize this ass from a mile away,” I grumble.
“It’s a remarkable ass,” Drew says, chuckling.
Our eyes meet for a second and Drew’s intense blues burn into me. I’m forced to remember things between us that I’ve kept a pretty good damn lid on since I’ve been with Mia. Flashes of us kissing. In my bed. On the couch. Touching, grunting, rutting. Cum. Hot cum.
“Fuck,” I curse, annoyed that I’d even go there mentally when I have Mia. “I’m going to grab my girl and dance. You coming?” I break my gaze from his penetrating one and seek out my girlfriend. My super-hot girlfriend. My girlfriend I’m loyal to and love more than anyone in the world.
I find Mia locked in an uncomfortable conversation with Sasha and her bitch squad. Sneaking up behind my girl, I wrap my arms around her and playfully grab her tits.
“Want to dance, angel?”
Sasha’s mean girl glare is in place, but she cracks a grin at seeing my face, then turns purple trying to hide it. “We were discussing the sorority chapter, responsibilities, and obligations for the sisters and—”
“Sorry, all I heard was blah, blah, blah, boring shit, blah, blah, blah and then I fell asleep. Come on, MiMi, let’s dance so I can wake up.” I ignore Sasha’s heated glare as I haul Mia over to where people are dancing. Some Lizzo is playing, which feels like an appropriate song to grind to.
I pull my angel against me, my palms settling on her ass, and dance with her, my eyes locked on hers. She grins, her dark eyes glittering in the blinking party lights.
“The devil’s going to fuck the innocence right out of you, angel,” I tease, dropping a kiss to her sparkly lips.
“He already did.”
We dance through each song, the rest of the world slowly fading away around us. Mia’s body feels good grinding against mine. I’m practically dry fucking her by the time Brayden and Drew find us. They stand around like a couple of big-ass bodyguards, which is comical.
“Tell me the popular guys know how to dance,” I taunt. “We’re nerds and we can fucking do it.”
“I can dance,” Brayden grumbles. “See.”
I smirk as he grabs Mia’s hips and shows me just how good he ca
n dance. With my girl. Drew’s blue eyes are alight behind his mask, watching with a mixture of curiosity and heat. He’s probably into that kinky shit—watching his boyfriend flirt with his roomie’s girlfriend. Hell, I’m kind of into it.
My mind reflects to last week when we’d all hung out together, right after I made things official with Mia. Bray and Drew were suddenly a thing, too. I’ll never forget the thrill that raced down my spine to see them watching as Mia dry fucked me on the couch while we kissed. I’d seen how aroused Brayden was by the boner he was sporting in his sweats, but even had I not seen that, I still wouldn’t have missed the matching expressions on their faces.
Curious.
Turned on.
Eager.
I wanted to strip Mia down and make her ride my dick in front of them. To see what they’d do. I’d kind of hoped they would’ve stripped down and rubbed their dicks against each other for Mia and me to watch. It was so fucked up to feel that way—especially since I’d just gotten the girl—that I was in a hurry to get the fuck out of that living room with her. When I fucked her that night, my fantasies inside my head tangled with the beautiful reality in my bed. I still feel guilty about that shit.
Thank fuck nothing like that has happened since. Sure, we hang out and chill, but since we’ve left alcohol out of the equation, everyone has behaved.
I just can’t ever drink again.
Mia’s head falls back against Brayden’s chest as she sings her cute little heart out. He’s laughing, moving his hips with her, earning the stares of every jealous motherfucker in this party.
Hell, I guess I do need alcohol.
“Who wants a drink?” I ask.
All three of them nod.
“Great, Drew, make sure no fuckers like one of Brayden’s roofie buddies come over to dance with my girl.” I grab his arm, forcing him to break out of his serial killer stance to come stand on the other side of Mia. “Dance with the angel.”
He’s hesitant at first, his eyes darting to Bray, who nods, and then he starts working his hips in tandem with them.
Fucking hell.
I want to stare at the way the three of them move together so effortlessly. Mia is having the time of her life, all smiles. It’s hot as fuck seeing her sandwiched between two muscly hockey players. That’s a fantasy I am definitely beating off to the next time I’m alone.
Just a fantasy.
I love Mia, but I can’t exactly become un-gay. As long as I don’t act on my fantasies or obsess over them, it’s fine. I’m loyal to Mia until the end. Still, a guy can appreciate the hottest goddamn vision he’s ever seen.
Finally, I break away to head over to the kitchen that’s bustling with people grabbing drinks. I walk over to a stack of plastic cups, ready to mix up some Ashton specials, when someone crowds me from behind.
“When you dress like this, you think everyone believes you’re suddenly straight now?” a masculine voice growls. “We all know you still love dick.”
To punctuate his point, he rubs his dick against my ass.
“Travis, you have exactly two seconds to get the fuck away from me…”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll beat your fucking face in with a vodka bottle.”
“You know I like it rough,” he rumbles. “We were good in the sack because I’d let you do wild shit to me. I bet the angel is too delicate and breakable. I bet she doesn’t satisfy you like I did.”
Spinning around, I grab his neck and shove him against the cabinets. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”
“Aww,” he taunts. “Poor Ashton Carter. Defending his girlfriend’s honor from his ex-fuck. Is her ass as tight as mine?”
“Fuck off,” I snap, releasing him.
“Better hope that shit doesn’t bruise,” Travis sneers. “I wouldn’t want to have to tell the dean that his son is an abusive prick. Not only would you be kicked off the swim team, he might be forced to make you leave the school altogether.”
“What the hell do you want from me?”
“Well, I wanted you,” he snarls. “But then you were too good for me. Now, I’ll settle for you to quit the team. Your parents are loaded. You don’t need swimming like I do. You make me look bad.”
I laugh cruelly. “You do that all by yourself.”
Turning away from this dickhead, I set to making our drinks. He creeps up behind me, his hand going to my throat, this time catching me off guard. I struggle to shake him off.
“Just. Quit. The. Team,” he barks out.
I’m about to kick off the cabinets and slam him to the floor when he’s jerked away. Kurt fucking Cobain has him smashed against the wall, his fingers digging into the prick’s jaw.
“Stay the fuck away from my friend,” Brayden warns.
“Or you’ll kick my ass?” Travis taunts. “Fuck you, Murphy.”
Brayden’s massive hand tightens, making Travis cry out in pain. “I’ll take joy in breaking your jaw. They’ll have to wire it shut and you’ll never suck cock again.”
I walk up to Brayden, skimming my knuckle down his spine to calm him. “The asshole’s not worth it. It’s what he wants. Probably been waiting for this moment so he can tattle. Just ignore him.” I hook my finger through the belt loop of Brayden’s jeans and pull him back.
“Keep it up,” Brayden warns Travis. “Just keep it up.”
Travis rubs at his red face before pulling his cowboy bandana back up over his mouth. He storms away. Good fucking riddance.
“Come on,” I tell Brayden. “Let’s go dance before our lovers decide to make babies without us.”
Brayden laughs. “Those fucking eyebrows, man.”
We both chuckle as we make our way back over to Mia and Drew. She has her arms in the air as she dances in front of him, grinning up at him. I grab onto her hips, rubbing my dick against her round ass. Brayden surprises me when his hand fists the back of my shirt as he starts dancing behind me.
“It’s fucking hot,” Drew complains, pushing his mask up to rest on top of his head so he can swipe at the sweat. His blue eyes burn with lust. “Mia never runs out of energy.”
“She’s got stamina from all those dumbass Wii games she plays,” I tattle.
She pushes her butt against me, which in turn makes me push my ass against Brayden. His hand grabs onto my hip. The laughter fades as we continue to dance, this time all synced up to the music. I try to ignore the fact that a big-ass hard dick is pressed against me. That’s what happens with dicks. You rub them on something, they get hard. It’s just dancing. I grab Mia’s tits to remind myself that I’m hers. My hand slides down to her hip where Drew’s already is. Rather than pushing his away, I leave it there, sorta liking the feel of him as he touches my girl.
This is so fucked up.
And hot.
I can’t even blame it on the alcohol.
Brayden’s fingers brush against a sliver of my skin beneath the hem of my tank. My dick is hard as stone as I grind into Mia. It’s hot as hell watching Drew dart his glance from Brayden to me to Mia, as though he can’t decide where he wants to look. I understand the feeling. Because Mia feels good to touch and kiss, but I can’t help but admire Drew’s lips and the way his tight, bloody shirt fits his muscled shoulders that my girl has her hands on.
“If Travis fucks with you again, let me know,” Brayden says, his breath hot against my ear. “I’ll kill him.”
His words are vines, wrapping around me and choking me. I like the tangled feel. The strangulation of them. It does shit to me knowing he’s got my back. Right now, literally.
“I can handle Travis,” I tell him, turning my head slightly so I can see him.
With our faces inches apart, my entire body heats by a thousand degrees. Fuck him for being so goddamn hot, even dressed as a horrible poser Kurt. His brown eyes are locked on my mouth and he licks his lips. Fuck if that doesn’t send a current of want straight to my dick.
I don’t want him.
I want Mia.
&
nbsp; It’s not my fault he makes me stare at him. Actually, we can blame Molly and Tim for making a hot kid. Definitely gonna throw that in his mom’s face next time I see her. Then, because he’s secretly a sadist, he presses a soft kiss on the side of my neck before pulling away. I try to remember that Mia and I have always been affectionate friends. It’s not unheard of to touch and kiss your friends. Mia and I are a testament to that.
But then we started fucking…
His eyes finally lift to my eyebrows and then he starts to laugh. “Those eyebrows, man. They’re fucking ridiculous.”
I waggle them, sending him into another fit of laughter. “Tell your dick that.”
He shakes his head, uncaring that his boner is about to rip out of his jeans. “My dick is not into devil eyebrows.” He walks over to Drew, pulling him away from Mia. His lips brush against Drew’s before he pulls Drew’s mask back in place. “You kids ready to bail? We made an appearance. I could go for some Pancake House right now.”
“I’m so in,” I state, grabbing Mia and hugging her to me. “What do you say, MiMi? Want to leave this hell and let me lick syrup off your pretty titties?”
She laughs, smacking my arm. “We can leave, but you’re not licking syrup off my boobs at Pancake House.”
I pull her to me for a dizzying kiss. “Fine. We’ll sneak some of those little bottles. I’ll lick it off you when we get home.”
“I like that idea much better.”
“All right, guys, bring it in!” I yell to the team as we finish up our afternoon practice. They all skate over, stopping in front of me. “That was a damn good practice. I have no doubt tomorrow night we’re going to destroy Ohio.” The team cheers, pumped for the game. We’re still undefeated so far this season and everyone is hoping to keep it that way as long as possible. “Next week, we’ll be meeting to go over how the game went, but Monday will be the last practice before Thanksgiving break.”