by Sloan Parker
“Yeah.” He studied Finn. “You sure it’s what you want?”
Finn held his gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
* * * *
Sawyer walked the length of Finn’s front porch for what had to be the thirtieth time. He’d tried waiting inside, but he couldn’t stand the silence of the empty house, so he’d headed back out and kept on pacing, kept on waiting.
Fifteen minutes later Finn’s truck pulled up to the curb. The engine cut off, and Finn slipped out of the cab. He strolled up the front sidewalk, the relief evident in his gait, his posture, on his face. Which hit Sawyer like a brick. He hadn’t had a clue how much all this had been affecting Finn until that moment.
“How’d it go?”
“Okay.” Finn took the porch steps two at a time. He paused before Sawyer for a brief moment, and Sawyer couldn’t read the expression on his face. Then Finn continued past him and on into the house.
Sawyer followed him in. Keeping quiet, he watched as Finn shrugged out of his coat and chucked his truck keys onto the hall table before heading into the living room and dropping down onto the couch with a loud sigh. “It was tough.”
“I bet.” Sawyer settled in beside him. “You sure this is what you want?” He had to ask again, had to hear it from Finn one more time.
“It is. It’s just weird moving on.” He met Sawyer’s stare. “Telling someone about us.”
“Did Weston freak out?”
“Nah. He said he figured a long time back that there was something going on, but if we didn’t say anything and it didn’t mess with our work, then it was none of his business.”
“Sounds like him.”
“I told him that it was starting to affect the job, and we needed to make a change.”
“Was he cool about it?”
“Yeah. But I’m on desk duty until the transfer goes through. He said he wasn’t taking chances with anyone’s life.”
Sawyer nodded. So this was it. No more call-outs together. God, this sucked. He looked to Finn again, and he knew… It would suck far more to give him up, to go back to just being friends. He stared off at the front door and thought about what it had been like waiting there earlier instead of riding home with Finn like usual. “We’re not gonna see each other as much.”
“Yeah.” Finn picked at the fabric on the armrest of the couch like he was debating something, or searching for the right words.
“What?”
Finn shrugged. “Nothing.”
“If even for a second you don’t think this is what you want—”
“Stop.” Finn flattened his hand on the arm of the sofa. He took one look at Sawyer, then leaned his head back to the couch behind him and grinned at the ceiling. A big-ass dopey grin like he’d just gotten the best damn news.
What the hell was he smiling at?
Then he started laughing.
“Want to let me in on the private joke?”
“Sure.” He rolled his head Sawyer’s way. “I just…” His expression grew thoughtful. “You love me.”
“Oh.” Relief washed over Sawyer. “Yeah, I do.” It was getting easier to admit. To himself. To Finn. He reached for Finn’s hand and slipped his fingers between the other man’s. They sat there on the couch, their hands locked in that simple touch. They’d never done anything like that. Apparently it was the time for firsts.
They both continued to focus on their combined hands for a moment more. Then their eyes met. Instinctively Sawyer leaned in. The kiss started off sweet and sensual. Then everything shifted. Finn was clutching at the front of Sawyer’s shirt, pulling him in closer, taking his mouth harder, and Sawyer gave back the same, cupping the back of Finn’s head with one hand, running the other down the front of Finn’s body.
God, he couldn’t wait any longer. He shifted around to kneel before the couch as Finn spread his thighs and made room for him. Sawyer tugged on Finn’s upper legs, pulling him toward the edge of the couch until he was close enough he could easily reach the opening of Finn’s jeans. He popped open the top button, then started on the zipper, wanting him in his mouth so damn much he could already taste him.
Then Finn spoke in a low voice. “You could move in here.”
Sawyer stopped with Finn’s fly half-open. “Live together?”
“Yeah.”
Could they really do that?
“Come on, Crenshaw.” Finn nudged him with one leg. “We pretty much spend every night together anyway. And now there’s no reason to keep up the pretense that we’re just friends. That we need more than one bed.” He winked at him.
“True.” Sawyer pictured moving all his stuff into Finn’s house, waking up next to him in bed, having breakfast together before they headed off to work. A pressure he hadn’t realize was still bearing down on his chest lifted. “I’ve never lived with anyone before. I might suck at it.”
“I’m pretty sure you will.” Finn laughed. “We haven’t killed each other yet. I think we’ll figure it out.” He slid his ass the rest of the way to the edge of the couch and tugged Sawyer forward at the same time so Sawyer was now bent over him.
“Yeah.” Sawyer ran the pad of his thumb over Finn’s lower lip. “We’ll figure it out.” He pressed a kiss to those delectable lips. “Together.”
They sealed the deal with another drawn-out, tender kiss on the couch, and a hard fuck in Finn’s bed—their bed now. That was just the way things had always been between them, a combination of friends and lovers, of mutual affection and smoldering heat that was too damn good to throw away, for any reason.
His Roommate’s Secret
This story started off as a brief 460-word scenario titled “My Roommate’s Surprise” and was originally shared via the author’s website. It was later revised and expanded into the following novelette.
“Brady.”
“Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
The hesitant sound of Rex’s voice indicated that this was not going to be about the economics exam he’d been stressing over for the past week or whether I was planning to head to the gym later to lift weights.
Sitting at my desk in our dorm room, I closed the lid on my laptop and turned to face him. It was early morning, the rest of the world around us still quiet, no one playing pizza-box hockey down the hall or guys who were late for class thundering by our closed door.
Rex stood across the room in the open space between our beds, his strong body stiff and straight as he stared at the floor before him. “I’m gay.”
Two words from my college roommate, and I couldn’t blink, much less speak, or even keep my mouth from hanging open. I had to look like I was afflicted with some kind of spontaneous uncontrollable drooling problem.
I’d lived with Rex for the past two years, and I had no idea he was into guys. None.
Confusion rushed through me as I went over all the times I’d seen him head out on a date. How many of those nights were spent with men?
I thought we were the closest of friends, thought we’d pretty much covered the important shit about ourselves long ago. We’d spent a number of half-drunk nights during our first semester in the dorm shooting the shit about our pre-college lives, jobs we’d had that sucked, loves we’d lost, the worst sex of our lives, and the best.
I thought back on his “best” story. He’d described it as one long orgasm-filled weekend with an old high school friend he’d reunited with at a hometown wedding. The two of them alternated between fucking and something far more tender and passionate, something distinctly removed from his normal sex life and unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. I’d gotten turned on just listening to him talk about it, which had me feeling completely uncomfortable, what with my being a gay man getting all worked up over a hetero experience like that.
Had that story actually been about a guy?
I forced down a stiff swallow. “You’re…”
“Gay.” Rex’s deep voice reverberated in the small room. That time he looked me in the eye as he said the
word, speaking slowly as if I might not understand what he meant.
What a laugh. I’d known I played for the other team by the fifth grade, and apparently, not long after that, everyone in my life assumed the same thing. There was just something about me.
Rex, on the other hand, had always had a voracious appetite for women. And they for him. What with the tribal tattoos covering his upper body and a physique that had the female art students begging him to drop his pants for their Nude Drawings course.
He was the tough twenty-eight-year-old tattoo artist who impressed everyone when, on a dare from a customer in his shop, he filled out an application to OSU, and when he was accepted, decided to sell his business and stay in a dorm on campus so he could have the full “college experience.”
Was this just about Rex wanting to do the college “curious gay experiment” thing too? Or was he really telling me he already liked to fuck guys?
Which made no sense. He was always dating women. And fucking them.
Or so I’d thought.
Maybe I’d never really known him.
Maybe the past two years had all been an act.
Maybe all that daydreaming I’d done about waking up at night to find him in my bed, his body draped over mine, his lips on my dick, didn’t have to be just a fantasy any longer. Maybe I could finally admit I was falling for him.
From where he stood across our room, Rex lifted his head and threw me his hallmark grin. The same smile that showcased the dimples, even through the dark stubble on his face. The one that also came with a pointed look in his eyes that said he was planning to tease me about my love of cock, which had been happening more and more often as of late.
I was beginning to get that I really had missed something about him. I got up from the desk and strode to the door of our room. I wasn’t about to leave. I just needed to move, needed a minute to process what he was telling me. And what it might mean.
All those times I’d pushed aside my desire for him, all those moments I told myself not to lust after yet another straight guy… I stopped and turned to face him. “I thought you dated women.”
“I do.”
“You sleep with both?”
“Yes. Have since I was seventeen.”
“So you’re bi?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Technically, yes.”
“Technically?”
“It’s complicated.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around what he was trying to say. I studied him for a long moment, but he wouldn’t look at me. “So un-complicate it for me.”
He lifted his head and moved toward me, then halted suddenly, still halfway across the room. He held perfectly still and forced down a noticeable swallow like he had to keep himself from saying more. Or was finding it hard to stop himself from moving closer. “I have relationships with women. Not with men.” He stopped talking again until I looked him in the eye. “I don’t date guys. I fuck them.”
“Oh.” What did that mean? “So you fuck around with guys on the side?”
“No.” He glared at me as if taken aback and completely offended by my words. “I’ve never cheated on anyone.” The pointed stare continued. “Never.”
I threw my arms up in an exaggerated gesture. “Sorry.” I let my hands fall to my sides with a loud slap to my thighs. “I mean you say you’re gay, but you’re really bi. You say you don’t date men, but you’re telling me you screw them. It’s a little confusing.”
“I know. It’s just…” He stopped again like he had to carefully plan out his next words. “When I’m single, I go out sometimes, pick up guys.”
“Fuck them.”
“Yes.”
I gave him a long, hard look. “Why are you telling me this?”
Rex’s expression softened. He scanned down the length of my body in a slow sweep, then back up, and finally met my stare. I’d gotten that look from guys before.
“Oh.” Despite the space separating us, my breathing kicked up a notch. He wasn’t much taller than I, but he was older, tougher, stronger, more masculine. All the things that had me drooling over him since day one. He had to know I wanted him that first week we’d started living together. I always figured he was just being polite and ignoring it. For both our sakes. “You wanna fuck me?”
His eyebrows rose in amusement. Or anticipation. I wasn’t sure which.
“Yes,” he said. Then, almost immediately, the light in his eyes fell away and was replaced by what looked like regret. The contradiction was jarring, to say the least.
He visibly gulped down another stiff swallow, closed his eyes, and shook his head. Seconds passed. He finally steadied his gaze on me once more. “Yes, I want to fuck you. But I just…” He started toward me again but paused after only two steps. He was watching me with an intensity I’d never seen from any guy before. It had all the desire I’d felt for him—and always tried to push aside—flooding through me in a rush. It was the most erotically charged moment of my life, and I wasn’t even sure what he was trying to tell me.
“Brady…” Without more warning than that, he darted forward and wound a hand around the back of my neck. He sucked in a sharp breath like he’d been waiting for months to get his hands on me, like that touch alone had magnified his need to be with me. He watched me for a long moment. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to see. “Can I kiss you?”
Was he for real? “Yes.” The drawn-out plea didn’t sound like me.
Apparently Rex didn’t care. Or he liked that sound. He leaned in and drew me forward at the same time. His lips parted. Mine followed suit. Then he stopped, his mouth hovering over mine. His warm fingers dug into the back of my neck. Our combined loud breaths sounded harsh in the otherwise quiet room, each of us exhaling a rush of air onto the other’s lips. I could feel how much he wanted this, wanted me. It was heady and powerful, knowing I had captivated him right then. Or maybe long before then. I wasn’t sure. But I wasn’t about to ask. Not at that moment.
Rex’s gaze dropped to my lips. He licked his own, then moved in the rest of the way and pressed his mouth to mine.
The kiss started off slow, a soft brush of flesh. Then he stepped into it and deepened the meeting of our mouths. His tongue swept out and met mine. Immediately my entire body came alive, like I’d been sleepwalking through life before then. Nothing—nothing—had ever felt as explosive as that simple touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck and fed him all the pent-up longing I’d been hiding from him. I clutched at him, tugged him tighter to me. I couldn’t get close enough. It felt the same for him.
We ground against each other, full body to body contact. The kiss went on and on, all primal need and consuming passion. The desperate way he held on to me, the way his mouth kept moving over mine, the rasp of his facial hair against my chin amid the power of that kiss, it all demonstrated how much he wanted this.
Without breaking the connection of our lips, he walked me backward. The backs of my thighs hit the wood surface of my desk, and he pushed me down to sit on the edge. He slid forward to stand between my legs, the outsides of his thighs sweeping along the insides of mine. Even with the two pairs of jeans between us, that contact sent a shiver down my body.
I couldn’t stop my next response. I spread my legs wider to give him more access, and he moved in closer. I lifted my hips and worked my groin against him. He returned the action with as much vigor, thrusting against me with full force, moaning into my mouth. Holy fuck, I was going to come right there, barely touching any of his skin.
Then everything stopped. Rex pulled back. He didn’t go far, though. He rested his forehead against mine. We were both panting, both hard and wanting. He let out a long exhale. “Brady.”
“What?”
“I…” He shook his head. His thumbs caressed the sides of my neck as he spoke again. “Before this goes any further, I want you to know—” He stopped and drew in a deep breath like he desperately needed the extra air just to keep upright on two legs.
“What?�
� I asked again, searching his face.
“I want—”
The knock on the door was loud and brief. “Hey, jackass,” came a voice through the closed door. “You coming or not?” It was Snyder. He lived in the room across the hall and had Intro to Film Studies with Rex. “Come on. Get your ass out here now, or we’re gonna be late.”
Rex turned to glare at the door like he was going to tell Snyder to fuck off, but instead he spoke to me in a soft reticent voice I hadn’t heard from him before. “I have to go.”
“Sure.” Nice of him to start this conversation ten minutes before he had to leave for class.
He finally looked back at me. “We’re taking a quiz.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Rather than head for the door, he kept his hands on me, his thumbs rubbing the sensitive skin of my neck again and again.
His stare never wavered, and his chest rapidly rose and fell with each breath. We had roughly the same color of brown eyes and dark hair, but with his eyes… I’d never seen anything so intense, even when he was laughing his ass off or smiling like a complete dork.
Another swipe of those thumbs. “Can we talk later?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure, later.” The words were barely audible, every part of me clenched in anticipation. Did he want to kiss me again? Did he want to bend me over the edge of my desk and sink into me? Did he prefer to get right to the fucking? Or would he take things slowly? Would he kiss and touch and pet more like we’d been doing for the past few minutes? Or was that an anomaly for him?
I ached to find out.
It was that simple. I wanted him. Hell, I loved him. So much it was hard to breathe somedays.
Rex licked his lower lip, and his eyes narrowed with delight, like he was tasting me on his mouth. “I’ll see you later.” He held still for a moment more, then dropped his arms and backed up a couple of steps, his eyes still zeroed in on mine. “Okay, later.” With what looked like regret, he turned to leave, shutting the door behind him.
I gaped at that closed door of our room, in complete and utter shock at what had just happened.