Well, he wasn’t going to be that foolish ever again.
He turned away to the computer. BigMan didn’t confuse him. There was no danger of forming inappropriate, hormone-driven attachments there.
But BigMan seemed determined to taunt him too.
Good. Now stay like that. E gets to come with H’s tongue down his hole. Eat him out, H. Make him scream.
Not for the first time, Nathan wished he had a deity to curse, but “Oh my God” sounded ridiculous coming from a sworn atheist, and “Oh my Dawkins” really wasn’t any better.
Rimming? Really? They were going to do that?
Did he have to?
Would Rory even want to?
But before he had the chance to vocalise any of this, Rory pushed Nathan’s legs up towards his shoulders, raising his backside off the mattress, and Nathan could feel hot breath on his fundament.
“Oh no, oh please…” What did he even want to ask? For Rory to stop? But then he’d never find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of a rimjob, and his insatiable curiosity was getting the better of him.
Despite his misgivings, Nathan took hold of his thighs, lifted his hips, and took it like a good boy.
Chapter Seven
Rory’s tongue was ticklish. Too intimate. Too wet. Too demanding.
Just too much of everything, really.
But then at the same time it was not enough. Not enough to release the burning pressure in Nathan’s balls. Not on its own. Not when he was exposed like this. Another man with his tongue down there.
He wasn’t sure exactly why having Rory’s mouth there should feel dirtier than having an erect penis inside him, but it was. And for some reason, rather than turning him off like he’d assumed it would, it was making him even more desperate to come.
Especially when Rory made hungry noises and rubbed his stubbly chin over Nathan’s sensitive perineum.
“I’ve got to!” he gasped, hoping someone could make sense of his garbled demands. “Please!”
He grabbed his dick and tried to focus on the screen. “Can I? Please?”
Come for me.
About time.
Nathan let go as the orgasm to end all orgasms flooded through his overwrought body. He stiffened, yelled something, and shot even more semen over himself.
***
Rory’s chest was surprisingly nice to use as a pillow, despite the slight sweaty tackiness and the patch of hair between his nipples. Or maybe even because of those things.
Nathan was starting to think that maybe he had a thing for hairy men. Hairy men who talked dirty but who treated him gently. Hairy men whose voices rumbled in their chests and made his ears buzz.
“We should get him to send us a photo,” Rory was saying.
“What?”
“You know, of his knob. To prove he’s a bloke.”
Oh, Rory meant BigMan. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
“It doesn’t. I’m just… curious.”
Curious meant something specific on the sites Nathan had researched. “Bi-curious? It doesn’t sound like it, if you don’t want a woman watching us.”
“Shut up. You take everything so literally.”
“What other way is there to take things?”
Rory was quiet for a while, which was odd. Maybe Nathan was screwing things up again. He didn’t want to mess this up. This… whatever it was. Working relationship, that was it.
But then Rory spoke, sounding thoughtful. “Yeah, maybe I am a little bi-curious. It might be quite cool if BigMan is a woman. But you know, I don’t really care either way. It’s being with you that’s the important thing.”
“What’s so important about it?” Nathan asked, because he couldn’t help himself, although it was precisely that kind of questioning that had driven Brett nuts.
“Because I like you,” Rory said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” Which was a lie, of course, but Nathan didn’t want to sound needy.
“Well, I’d like to be friends. Friends with benefits.”
“Oh. Yes, I don’t see why not.”
“Your enthusiasm overwhelms me.”
Rory was being sarcastic, Nathan could tell. There was an odd tone of voice people used when they wanted to be sarcastic, which meant of course that Rory wasn’t remotely overwhelmed with Nathan’s enthusiasm. Which meant Nathan should probably be trying harder.
“I’d like to be friends,” he said. Then remembered how Rory had clarified his request. “With benefits, of course.” And not just for the camera, he wanted to add, but it felt too exposing so he settled for walking his fingers down Rory’s treasure trail and over his spent cock.
Rory chuckled. “Mmm, give it half an hour or so and I reckon we’ll both be feeling the benefits.”
They lay there like that for a while. Nathan wasn’t sure exactly how long because he didn’t want to get up and look for his phone. And besides, even if he did, he wouldn’t know exactly how long he had been wondering about the time before that, so it wouldn’t help with timekeeping accuracy. Better to just enjoy this strange little interlude while he could.
“Do you fancy a round of toast?” Nathan eventually offered, when his need to look at the clock got the better of him.
“Toast?”
“Don’t you like toast?”
”Yeah, of course. I was just thinking about that popcorn. It’s probably cold by now, but it’ll still be good. And I think you promised me an episode of Breaking Bad.”
“You sort out the popcorn, I’ll sort out the telly.”
Nathan wanted to pinch himself to check this wasn’t a dream. He was about to spend an evening with a friend in his bedsit.
There was a first time for everything.
***
There were days when Rory couldn’t decide if being shift manager was a curse or a blessing. Like today, for instance, when there was a big order due to go out to their most important customer and which Rory had been asked to personally check over. He’d just been heading over to inspect the pallets when Spencer had cornered him and asked for a confidential chat. He’d started a whole week ago—the day after Rory had got it together with Nathan, he remembered—but he still had that ridiculously meek manner about him. At least he’d stopped calling Rory Mr Jones, though. That just made him think of his dad.
Rory steeled himself for whatever it was going to be. “What is it, Spencer?”
“I’m having a bit of a problem. With the drivers.” Spencer looked up at him like a puppy dog, and Rory cursed himself for being such a sap. But he couldn’t resist those eyes. Especially as Spencer wore glasses a bit like Nathan’s.
Rory put his clipboard down on a pallet of boxes and sighed. “Yeah? What have they been doing now? Sent you off for some tartan paint, did they?”
“That was last week. Today I had to go up to the office for a long weight. How was I supposed to know it was a trick? We sell weights.”
“So you had to stand around for a bit. No harm done, was there?”
Spencer’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Yesterday they cocooned me in pallet wrap.”
Rory sighed. “Yeah, I heard about that.” It hadn’t been on his shift, fortunately. “Look, I can have a word but it might make things worse. They’re only teasing you, you know? It happens to everyone when they start here. I got cocooned like that and they took me round the warehouse on the forklift prongs.” He grinned, remembering the rush of adrenaline. “It was kind of fun, actually.”
“I can’t imagine that being fun under any circumstances.”
“No. I bet you can’t.” Rory took a good look at Spencer. Thin, pale, glasses, geeky. What had the agency been thinking when they sent him to work here? He didn’t fit in, it was that simple.
A bit like Nathan would never fit in around here, or any similar workplace. Rory tried to imagine how Nathan’s literal interpretation of everything would go down. The drivers would find it hysterical, no d
oubt, but Nathan wouldn’t. Yeah, Nathan was probably best off doing his sex work.
An urge to protect geeky, underfed lads welled up in him. “Okay, look, I can give you other duties for a few shifts if you like. Goods In could probably use a hand with the latest delivery, and it will keep you out of the packing bay for a while.”
Spencer’s face lit up. “Thanks! Can I go there now?”
“Yeah, go and find Sylvie, and tell her I sent you over.” Sylvie was in charge of Goods In, and she’d no doubt take Spencer under her wing. She had a soft spot for little boy lost types.
Actually, she’d probably love Nathan.
Maybe Rory should invite him out for drinks with her and Ben after work on Friday. Except after work drinks on a Friday generally involved most of the shift going down the local boozer, which hadn’t been tarted up like most of the pubs in Bath.
And Nathan would fit in every bit as well as Spencer fit in with the distribution team.
Yeah, maybe he needed to keep his social life and his sex life separate.
Shame really, because for the first time ever Rory had met a bloke he’d actually like to introduce to his other friends.
But it wasn’t to be. So best stop thinking about it.
Rory picked up his clipboard and headed down to the packing bay.
***
It was casserole day in the university canteen, so Nathan had decided to forgo his usual sandwich and treat himself to a hot meal. It might not be as good as his mother’s casserole, but seeing as how unless he lied about his sexuality he wasn’t likely to eat her home cooking again, under the circumstances it was the best he was likely to find.
But eating in the canteen was a dangerous undertaking. Nathan kept his eyes down, and had so far managed to keep the chairs in his immediate vicinity empty, just the way he liked them.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite third year,” came a nasal voice from behind him.
An unwelcome nasal voice at that.
“Brett.” Nathan refused to look up from his casserole, but Brett was pretty much incapable of taking a hint. He pulled out the chair opposite Nathan, made a disapproving noise, and wiped it down with a paper towel before sitting.
“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you in ages. Have you been avoiding me?” Brett asked.
“No.” Technically, it was true. Nathan hadn’t specifically been avoiding Brett. He’d been avoiding everyone, but he didn’t see any need to explain himself. Especially as that would mean engaging Brett in conversation.
The silence dragged on until Brett gave a theatrical sigh. “I see we’re still playing that game, are we?”
“What game?” Curses. He’d been drawn in despite himself.
“That immature silent treatment. Honestly, Nathan, you’re twenty now. You should have grown out of that kind of behaviour.”
Nathan finally looked up from his casserole. “There’s nothing immature about choosing who I speak to and spend time with. Actually, I think it’s more mature. It shows I’m not bowing to peer pressure.”
But Brett clearly didn’t really want to talk about that, as he changed the subject. “And I suppose you’re still doing that grubby little thing with your webcam, are you?” Brett sneered down his nose, and all of a sudden, Nathan’s appetite evaporated.
“There’s nothing grubby about it. It’s a perfectly legitimate way to pay my rent.”
“Perhaps if you were some in some third world country where you didn’t get any handouts, but you’re just being bloody minded. Take the student loan, for God’s sake. It’s got to be better than prostituting yourself.”
“Keep your voice down!” Nathan might not be ashamed of his work, but he still didn’t want the entire student population knowing his business. He never should have told Brett about the cam modelling, but at the time he’d thought he’d found a kindred spirit. Surely Brett would view it the same way he had? Nathan had even shown him his spreadsheet, but perhaps because of his privileged, trust-fund background, Brett hadn’t accepted the figures even in black and white.
It had been the beginning of the end for their relationship.
But perhaps he should be grateful for that, after all. Nathan took a good hard look at Brett, noting the prissy way he sat with his hands steepled in front of him, and the permanent tightness around his mouth. It was hard to imagine Brett ever smiling.
Come to think of it, he had no memory of Brett smiling.
Rory smiled all the time. As Nathan recalled that mischievous grin, he felt the tension leak out of his shoulders.
What would Rory do in this situation? Nathan was pretty sure he wouldn’t sit there, putting up with Brett’s crap just to be polite.
“Come on, Nathan, you know you don’t need to resort to all that kind of thing when there’s someone willing to look after you,” Brett was saying. “There’s a new Indian restaurant opened up around the corner from my place. Have dinner with me tonight. We can talk things through.”
Nathan stood. “Give it a rest, Brett. I’m not interested.”
Brett pursed his lips. “Oh come on, like you could do better than me.”
“I can and I have, actually.”
The expression on Brett’s face was one even Nathan could identify: shock. But it quickly transformed into something uglier. “One of your pervy punters, was it? Got yourself a sugar daddy?”
He really couldn’t be bothered justifying himself to Brett any longer. “It’s none of your business, but no. He’s just a nice, ordinary bloke with a regular job. And he likes me for who I am, not because he thinks he can buy me or control me.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Brett sniffed. “Just don’t expect me to still be waiting in the wings when it all goes pear-shaped. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, you know.”
Nathan didn’t see what fish had to do with anything, or wings and pears for that matter. “I’ll be fine, thanks.” He stood up, reluctant to leave his casserole unfinished, but without the appetite to finish it thanks to Brett. “Goodbye.”
It was somewhat satisfying to leave Brett sitting there, his mouth opening and closing, but as Nathan walked away, the enormity of what he’d just said hit him.
Brett wouldn’t be waiting around for him any longer, and Nathan had no guarantee that Rory wanted anything more than to be friends with benefits.
Not that it mattered. Nathan had been getting along fine on his own for years now. There was no reason he needed to change anything in that department. He was just feeling unsettled because of talking to Brett, that’s all it was.
Yes, best to keep things going the way they were. Nathan was perfectly happy with that.
Well, happy might be a little strong.
Nathan was content. And that would have to do.
Chapter Eight
It had been about a month since that first shag with Nathan, and Rory was getting jumpy. He kept having to lean on his knee to stop his foot tapping on the floor. And concentrating on the rerun of the Top Gear Christmas Special was proving impossible. Not that he really needed to concentrate on something he’d seen a zillion times before, but still. His mind kept racing off.
Racing off a short distance across the floor, through the door, across the hall and through his neighbour’s door.
For the first time in ten days, there hadn’t been a text from Nathan. Most days Rory would be over at his bedsit by now, and they’d be performing some act for the camera. He’d become really good at checking the screen, making sure he gave Nathan’s “boss” exactly what he or she wanted—which invariably was a close up of his knob pumping into either Nathan’s arse or mouth.
Yeah, Rory was good at this web model gig. And he liked to think he was good at the sex too, although it was disappointing he never got to bottom or give head himself. For some reason, BigMan had no interest in seeing that.
But Rory always made sure Nathan enjoyed himself. He worked hard wiping any trace of a frown off Nathan’s brow. Last night he’d even jokingly
asked Nathan for a cut of the profits, seeing as how they were both enjoying themselves.
And Nathan had gone quiet after that. And he’d told Rory he was too tired to watch telly with him that night.
Shit.
Rory played through their conversation. What exactly had he said? Nathan did have that annoying tendency to take everything literally. What if he’d somehow given Nathan the idea that Rory was only into him for the money?
But hang on a minute. What if it was the other way round? What if Nathan was really only into Rory for the money?
Something down near Rory’s stomach ached. Sure, Nathan had said they were friends, but had he really meant it? He didn’t seem like the social type, and Rory had never run into any geeky friends on the stairwell. Did he even know what friendship entailed? It wasn’t like they’d done much of the sort of things normal mates did. Nathan had only set foot in Rory’s flat that one time, after all. Maybe he just didn’t want to spend time with Rory unless there was the chance of him earning some cash on the side.
Before he could second guess himself, Rory pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text. Want to do something tonight? You could come over to mine.
The reply came almost instantly.
Can’t tonight. I have a paper to finish.
A paper? Rory was being given the brush off for homework? The thing he’d always avoided at all costs, and there was Nathan, happier with his bloody books than spending time with Rory.
Unless that was just a crappy excuse and BigMan was tired of watching the two of them together.
Maybe he wanted to see Nathan doing solo stuff again.
Or maybe he wanted to see Nathan with some other bloke. Maybe Nathan had been on Grindr and picked up some random stranger.
Rory’s insides twisted.
Shit, that was painful. For a moment, Rory entertained the notion that he was coming down with appendicitis again, but he was fairly sure that was a once-only deal, seeing as how they’d whipped out the organ in question. Besides, this felt different.
Must be indigestion. Yeah, that was it. When had he last eaten?
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