Time Out (Dear Lonely Guy Book 2)

by Alison Hendricks

  "I'm glad for you, Brendan. I'm glad you're living the life you want to live. But why didn't you reach out? As soon as you dropped med school, you should've called me."

  "I know," I said, "and I promised you no excuses. I don't have one, beyond the fact that I was afraid. It felt like it'd been so long already. I mean, you and I never spent more than a couple weeks apart, the whole time we'd known each other. To go a year... I was afraid you hated me. I thought there was no way you'd want to see me again."

  "I told myself I didn't, but I would've dropped everything for you."

  His words were so achingly sincere that they stole the breath from my lungs and sent another stab of pain through my heart. I knew he would have. I think I knew it back then, too, but the lingering doubts and insecurities made me believe otherwise. And, because of it, I made my best friend feel like I didn't want him.

  "When I look back on all the shit I've done, that's what I regret most," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Keith. I'm sorry for hurting you. For ever making you feel like I didn't care."

  He looked away from me, eyes on the sky again. I joined him in that, watching the distant lights twinkle. It was clear enough tonight to make out most of The Big Dipper from where we were.

  "It's going to take me time," he finally said, breaking the silence. "I don't know how much, but Jesus, Bren. I spent half of my life thinking you just didn't want to be around me anymore because you didn't want to catch the gay."

  "I already caught the gay, dude." I managed a weak smile. "That definitely wasn't it. But... take all the time you need. You have a right to still be hurt and angry with me. I just hope I can still be a part of your life."

  He drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding with it. He still wasn't looking at me when he said, "So, where do we go from here?"

  "Wherever you want to go, K. I'd like to try and rebuild our friendship, but I'm not going to deny I'm as attracted to you now as I was back then. I think that's pretty obvious."

  "From your constant, unprofessional boners?"

  I laughed, a touch of crimson flooding my cheeks. "Yeah. From those."

  I was desperate to tell him there was so much more I wanted from him. My feelings for Keith never faded, in all this time. I'd known it the instant I saw him again, but the last thing I wanted to do was scare him off now that we were finally talking.

  "I can't say I mind," Keith said. "In fact..."

  I knew what he was going to do before he even did it. He shifted, his hand moving over my hip and thigh before he cupped the front of my slacks. I gasped.

  "I wouldn't mind seeing one now."

  There was something in his eyes, some vulnerability I couldn't place. Almost a plea, as if he was begging me to just go along with this and not ask questions. I probably should have stopped him. I was too weak to do it, though. I wanted him. Badly. If I could only have him in this messy way, then I was going to take him.

  My hand went to the back of his neck and I pulled him to me for a rough, needy kiss. He moaned against my mouth, his palm rubbing over the front of my fitted slacks. My dick began to respond immediately, and my fingers curled into his hair, gripping tight as I deepened the kiss.

  Keith was the one to break it, leaving me breathless and more than a little confused. I understood as he shifted down, his fingers immediately reaching for the button of my slacks.

  I looked around, trying to see if we were being even remotely discrete. This was a public place -- a public park, even -- and there was a highway nearby. Fortunately, I didn't think we were close enough for anyone to see us, between the distance and the sides of the truck bed. At least I hoped not. I couldn't be bothered to care, especially when he pulled my dick out of my boxer briefs and started stroking me.

  "Fuck," I gasped, his hand feeling so good around me, with just the right amount of pressure.

  Keith used his free hand to tug my shirt out of my waistband, rucking it up so my abs were exposed. I started undoing the buttons, grateful we'd both left our jackets in the cab. He leaned over me, tongue snaking out to lick at the ridges of my abs while his hand worked me. I sucked in a breath at that, my body more sensitive than I'd expected, especially when he raked his teeth along the edge of my hip bone.

  My hips jerked, thrusting my half-hard dick further into his hand. Keith grinned, then moved back down and took me fully into his mouth, all the way to the base. I let out a stuttered moan, my hand fisting in his hair as he sucked me hard, willing me to firm up. It didn't take long. Blood was pumping like crazy, running molten hot through my veins. I was fully hard in his mouth before too long, and he had to adjust to keep from gagging on my cock.

  "Jesus, you're big," he murmured, his voice a husky rasp. He continued stroking me throughout. "Can't wait to have this fat dick inside of me."

  I bit back a groan at that, my dick twitching in response. I couldn't wait for that, either, but I wasn't at all averse to what he was doing now. He took me back into his mouth, his tongue swirling around my slit, lips sucking the crown. He made his way down my length, taking me to the hilt again before he drew back and released me, his saliva making my dick glisten.

  Hand wrapping around the shaft again, he ducked his head down to suck on my balls, drawing one into his mouth, then the other. He licked along the seam of them, making me moan in a sinful way before his tongue painted a stripe along the length of my cock and he swallowed me again.

  Keith worked me with expert technique, never giving me a chance to catch my breath. I could tell he wanted me to come, and my body definitely wasn't resisting. Both my hands were buried in his hair, and by the time he held still and let me thrust into his mouth, I was too far gone to stop. As the head of my dick hit the back of his throat one last time, I came hard, jerking inside his mouth, shooting my load in pulse after pulse of pleasure.

  He lifted his head from me as I lay back, panting. Before I had the chance to recover, he said:

  "Do you have condoms with you?"

  "In my truck," I said, breathless. "In the console."

  He was quick to fetch them, but he jumped off the tailgate without any regard for his leg. The yelp I heard shot a bolt of cold down my spine, and I watched him crumple to the ground.

  "Keith!"

  I pulled my slacks up and buttoned them quickly, springing down from the tailgate to be by his side in an instant. He was clutching his brace, his face contorted in pain.

  "Let's get you home," I said softly. "You need to be off of that leg."

  For a moment, he looked like he wanted to fight me. But I could see the lightest shimmer of tears in his eyes from the pain, and he finally relented, just nodding.

  "I'm going to pick you up, okay?" Getting my arms under him, I pulled him up and to my chest, then started carrying him to the cab.

  "Always wanted a prince," he said half-heartedly, his voice strained.

  I laughed softly at that, but in my mind all I could think was: I would move mountains to be that prince for you.

  I didn't say it. I couldn't. I still had no idea what we were to each other, and things were so fragile I couldn't risk it. So I drove him back to his place, keeping conversation light to distract him from the pain.

  13

  Keith

  Things would've been so much easier without this fucking leg getting in the way.

  We could have kept going. I could finally know what it felt like to have Brendan inside of me -- to have him fuck me into absolute oblivion, until everything else slipped away. All the shit from the past, everything confusing about the present, all the uncertainty of the future. I just needed him to fuck me hard enough that I stopped thinking about any of those things, and this would be fine.

  Instead, I was stuck with my thoughts while Brendan literally carried me through my own front door.

  Mostly, I was stuck on how sweet it was. How good it felt to have someone care for me. How much I just wanted to swoon and give in, letting him take care of me for the rest of my life
. He seemed eager to do it, and a big part of me was eager to let him.

  But I knew this wouldn't last.

  I believed Brendan when he said he regretted never calling me. I believed he'd even grown from it. I just wasn't willing to let myself believe it wouldn't happen again. Relationships were complicated. That was why I avoided them like the plague. If I got into a relationship with Brendan, would he bolt at the first sign of real conflict? If someone questioned our relationship, would he leap back into the closet for the sake of convenience, then stop texting me because he felt guilty?

  I knew it was unfair on some level. I could have reached out, too. I could have been more understanding when I finally saw him again. I could have done a lot of things.

  There was only so much I was willing to do now, though, because I couldn't handle another loss like that. I couldn't let myself believe I had him. It would only make the inevitable harder to deal with. It would break me and, after the first time, I promised myself I wasn't ever going to let a man make me feel that worthless again.

  "Do you want to be on the couch?" he asked, blessedly interrupting my thoughts. "Or no. The bed's probably better."

  "Wherever you want to put me, Prince Charming. I yield to your superior muscles."

  He snorted softly at that, but I could see the worry etched into his beautiful face. I didn't like it, because I didn't like seeing him in distress, yet there was a part of me that was touched by it.

  Brendan carried me into my bedroom and laid me down on the bed with all the care of a service dog laying down an egg. He turned on the lamp on my bedside table and fetched a pillow to prop up my leg. He tested gently for any swelling, then wandered off to get an ice pack.

  When he came back, I was still in a daze. Caught up in the hurricane of Brendan's caring nature and the vortex of my own thoughts. He had the ice pack wrapped in a towel and he wrapped it around my leg, then fussed with the pillow some more before disappearing again. This time, he had a glass of water and a couple pills.

  "Ibuprofen. I found them in your medicine cabinet. I wasn't sure if you still had a prescription--"

  "It's not bad enough for pain pills," I assured him.

  I took the offered Ibuprofen and downed them with the water, realizing he'd gotten it from the dispenser on the fridge, not from the tap. He really had thought of everything, apparently.

  "You don't have to do all of this," I said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

  It was one thing for him to be in my home as a professional. Now, he was in my bedroom and we were both regrettably clothed. He might have some professional interest, but I knew this went deeper than that. Brendan had always had a nurturing soul, and I'd definitely benefited from it when we were growing up.

  I remember one time when I fell out of a tree because I'd been a dumbass and decided to climb it knowing there was a beehive in it. When they started to swarm, I did quite possibly the stupidest thing imaginable and just jumped. From thirty feet off the ground. I was lucky I didn't break more than my wrist.

  Brendan was there for that whole thing. He sat with me until I wasn't so shaky, went with me to tell my folks, sat at the doctor while my wrist was set, then visited me every single day with gifts of soup, ice cream, Pokémon cards, and everything under the sun he thought would make me feel better.

  This reminded me so much of our past together that I couldn't help wondering if he had some old Pokémon cards stashed in the pocket of his fancy slacks. The thought made me smile.

  As all of it sank in, though, it just continued sinking. Down into my stomach, twisting it into knots. I couldn't let myself get used to this. It was too dangerous. I wouldn't come out of it the same person when this was taken away again.

  "Do you have soup? You probably have soup, right? Everybody has soup. I'm going to go heat some up for you," Brendan said, babbling almost nonsensically.

  Before he could reach the door to the bedroom, I finally snapped.

  "Jesus, Bren, I don't need soup!"

  It came out harsher than I intended. I felt like an injured animal lashing out at the person who was trying to help it. The situation wasn't so different. The animal was trying to defend itself and so was I. The only difference was that my fears centered wholly on the emotional, not the physical.

  "Yeah," he said, instantly deflating. "Sorry, I know I can go a little overboard. You just ate, of course you don't want soup."

  Guilt stabbed at me and I rubbed at my arm, pulling my gaze away from his. "Sorry. I shouldn't have been a dick about it. Pain just... makes me cranky."

  It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the complete truth, either.

  "I get that. I should probably just let you rest, anyway. I'm sure your leg will be fine if you stay off of it tonight."

  "Yeah," I answered, still not looking at him.

  "I'll... text you. If that's okay."

  I should have told him no, but it wasn't like I could avoid him. He would be here to continue my therapy.

  Instead I just nodded, finally lifting my eyes to his again and forcing a small smile. He returned it, then headed out of my bedroom. This time, I knew he wasn't going to come back with some other offering, but it still hurt to hear the front door close.

  This is exactly what you asked for, you fucking hypocrite.

  And something I should prepare myself for because, as I lay there staring at the glass of water he'd left on the bedside table, I knew I was already in too deep.

  14

  Keith

  As we drew closer to the school year, I was at least able to split my focus between Brendan, my classes, and my team. My assistant coach Esme had been handling conditioning training all through the summer, but I was finally going to be there to see my girls again for tryouts. There were a lot of JV players who were hoping to be bumped up to varsity this year, and some fresh faces wanting to fill their spot on the JV roster.

  That was still a few days away, though, and one of my first work-related tasks involved sitting through the new year orientation with the rest of my colleagues. Elliot was in a different grade level, so it was just Tina and I attending the sophomore orientation. Two new teachers had been hired on this year and the rest of us were supposed to learn about some updated procedures.

  Most likely, they were going to insist we have our lesson plans done and ready to present by the beginning of each week. They said that every year, but only the new teachers ever followed it. The rest of us--those of us who didn't get off on being hyper-organized, anyway--wrote the barest notes on lesson plans, then cobbled together something presentable when doing our observations.

  There wasn't much in the way of new information this year, so I zoned out a bit more than I should have. Not the best idea, since it just made me think of Brendan even more. This wouldn't be the first time I'd thought about giving a blowjob while I was supposed to be focusing on a meeting, but it was the first time I'd thought about it in relation to Brendan, and that was enough to rob my attention completely.

  At least thinking about the feel of him in my mouth, heavy and solid and searing hot, was enough to keep me from thinking about how he'd taken care of me after. I couldn't handle that. The sex was fine. Better than fine. I had a feeling being fucked by Brendan would feel amazing, so long as I let myself focus on the physical side of things. Sparing a thought or feeling for anything else just wasn't going to work, so I kept my focus on what did work, imagining what might have happened if I hadn't been a dumbass and jumped down from that tailgate.

  What if I'd just let him take me raw? I was tested regularly, not just for HIV but for a variety of diseases. I wasn't interested in some random hookup tracking me down to yell at me because I gave him crabs or something. I didn't know what Brendan's status was, but a fantasy couldn't hurt me. In that fantasy, there was no need for condoms or lube. It was just me and him, with Brendan bending me over the toolbox in his truck bed, the metal cold against my bare skin as he railed me.

  God, he'd feel so good inside of me. Nice
, thick cock sliding against my walls. I'd grip him on every stroke inward and slam back against him when he thrust into me. I could practically feel his hot flesh pulsing inside of my ass, the sensation causing me to shift in my chair. The hard plastic beneath me brought me back to reality. That and the fact that Tina was staring at me.

  "Good weekend?" she asked with a smirk.

  "Tell you about it later."

  It was a promise, not a dismissal, and one I made good on once we were finally released. She and I headed toward her classroom, as I'd agreed to help her get some things set up before school started. In exchange, she and Elliot were both going to help me hobble around my own classroom.

  Once we were safely behind closed doors, I went ahead and told her before she had the chance to ask again. "Soooo yeah, I may have gotten a little action."

  "I thought you weren't having any luck with Grindr," she said, pulling out her keys.

  She'd been lucky to keep the same room, so everything was still packed away inside the closet.

  "Yeah, this wasn't Grindr."

  "A new app? Or..." Her head whipped around to face me, her eyes wide. "You didn't."

  A grin tugged at my lips, though I quickly transformed it into crude shorthand for a blowjob, my hand moving beneath my mouth as if I was stroking an invisible dick.

  "Oh my god," she exclaimed. Not scandalized. She knew too much about me for that. She seemed... genuinely surprised. Maybe a little upset. "I swear to God, Keith, you are one of the most dysfunctional gays I've ever met. I thought you were supposed to have it easier than the straights."

  I snorted, having to watch as she dragged boxes out. I'd offered to help her put things up and organize, but I still couldn't lift anything substantial.

  "Who the hell told you that? I've never met a gay man who wasn't a hot mess."