Relationship Status (Ethan & Wyatt)

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Relationship Status (Ethan & Wyatt) Page 10

by K.A. Mitchell


  Wyatt reached for my hands, and I let him take them. “I don’t want to break up with you. I’m not breaking up with you. I love you. But I have to do this.”

  I swallowed hard. He ran a hand over my jaw, playing with my short beard. He liked to touch, and I liked being touched. We wouldn’t be able to touch with over a hundred miles between us. He cupped the back of my head and kissed me. I think it was the softest kiss we’d ever shared and I hated it.

  “It’s just a semester,” he said again.

  I nodded but I wasn’t agreeing to anything. Besides, his uncle would never go along with it.

  * * *

  Christine’s face was full of hope when Wyatt made his announcement.

  Owen didn’t look as determined as I’d hoped when he came in on my side, though he signed firmly. No. Go school. He added another sign I didn’t catch.

  Wyatt signed and spoke, for my benefit, I assumed. “Yes, it’s important. I will finish. Family is important too.”

  No. I’m fine. Better. Insurance pays.

  I’d seen all those signs often enough over the past couple of weeks to recognize them even when they were done fast and with emphasis. Still, I could tell Owen was weakening.

  I drive you to PT. Wyatt wasn’t speaking aloud anymore. He kept going, and Christine translated for me in a murmur. “Other experiences are important. You saved my life. Please let me help you.”

  Shit. If Wyatt was going to pick something up from my skill set, did it have to be heartfelt appeals? Couldn’t he have picked up a sense of knowing that his T-shirts were too big and looked terrible with his Dockers?

  “I’ll think about it and we’ll talk.” Christine translated Owen’s answer, but it didn’t matter. I could read capitulation in his face.

  Two weeks later, I gave up my room in Stone Harbor to my cousins Hannah and Ashley. At least their tans would help them make the cheer squad. Wyatt said I was being a martyr for no good reason. I showed him the five-day-old text from my mom on being a martyr for martyrdom’s sake. That shut him up.

  I still hadn’t given up on finding a way to avoid four months apart. Owen hadn’t come through, but I had my own resources. Deep throat kind of resources.

  With Christine at work and Owen fed and watching TV downstairs, I lured him up to the guest room, pushed him against the closed door and put every skill I had into blowing his mind. Literally.

  His hands tugged at my hair at the first deep suck. I swallowed, then took him into my throat, lips tight around the shaft.

  “E-than.” My favorite way to hear my name, a drawn-out, trembling plea.

  And I’d barely started.

  I drew back, leaving every inch of him slick and shining, then kissed and licked the head. I teased with little laps, dragging my tongue over his slit, then flicks, until my name became a three-syllable whine.

  His hips bucked, but I grabbed onto his ass and wouldn’t let him fuck my mouth. I pulled off to deliberately suck two of my fingers, watching his reaction. It wasn’t just the needy expression on his face that made me need to stop and unbutton my jeans before my own dick strangled to death. It was the way his eyes held mine, one dark brown, one bright blue, both wanting, unguarded. So vulnerable I felt a frantic urge to protect him from everything, even me.

  This was what no one understood. Why I had to be with him.

  Who was going to make sure he stayed open but safe if I wasn’t here? What if people were assholes the way they always were, and he didn’t have anyone to laugh with, and he got all closed off again, and pushed me away?

  And, deeper, what kept me up some nights, what if someone was better at making him feel safe and happy than I was? I knew he wouldn’t go looking, but see above. People are assholes. They wouldn’t care if he was taken. Wouldn’t care that we had something that made both of us better people together than we were apart.

  My chest and throat were so tight I had to stop and breathe for a second.

  He smiled. “Good as you are you’re not going to change my mind, but feel free to try.”

  I had to laugh. “Asshole.”

  He gave me that evil smirk that had me by the balls from the first time I saw it.

  I sat back on my heels, trying to ignore the wet cock bobbing in front of my face, the thick ridges that belonged on my tongue. “I guess since you figured out my plan, there’s no point to going on.”

  I wish I’d had my phone out to capture the expression on his face. I wondered if people who’d actually been hit in the head looked that stunned.

  Then he arched his brows. “Seriously?”

  I shrugged.

  “Eth—”

  I dove onto him.

  “—an.” Wyatt’s protest ended in a whimper as I gulped him down and started a deep bob that had my throat spasming. I grabbed air when I could and when I heard him, felt him, tasted him starting to go over the edge, I pulled off again and sat back grinning.

  His bangs had fallen to cover most of his face, though I suspected even if I could see his whole mouth there would only be that half-smile smirk.

  He panted for a minute then caught his breath. “Are you going to punish me by teasing me to death?”

  I hadn’t been planning to, but now that he mentioned it, I could see that working to my advantage.

  “Maybe.”

  “And here I thought you were a nice guy.” He put a hand on my cheek and ran a thumb over my lips. I sucked it in because this was torture for me too. I loved having him in my mouth, and I was going to jerk off as soon as I started sucking him again.

  His fingers stroked through my hair. “Do you remember what I told you?”

  I didn’t know if we were still teasing or if he was asking me seriously. I opened my mouth to ask, More specifically? But what came out was “Mmmm...” as he dragged me onto his dick and fucked my mouth.

  “I’m not—” he gasped, fingers locked in my hair, keeping me from pulling away as he rocked his hips “—a nice guy.” He punctuated the words by jamming in deep.

  I didn’t want to get away. I loved it when Wyatt pushed back and took what he wanted. My neck, my jaw, my lips burned and I couldn’t breathe because he mashed my nose tight against his pubes as he jerked and came deep in my throat.

  He let me go and I choked and gasped. His eyes jerked open and they wore a shine in the light through the window blinds.

  “Ethan?” His voice wavered.

  Torn between wanting to reassure him and needing to breathe, I signed, Fine. He slid down the door to join me on the floor.

  “Not gonna lie, that almost made me change my mind.”

  Not gonna lie was something I used all the time. That he’d picked it up made me almost forget that I had jizz stuck between my nose and throat. I didn’t know whether to swallow or find a tissue. I did both.

  Wyatt stared hard.

  I smiled, though my lips were a little uncooperative. “Careful. People will say you sound like me.”

  He pulled me down to lie against his chest. “I’m okay with that.”

  He stroked his fingers through my hair, soothing my scalp where he’d yanked.

  Mellow and post-orgasm seemed like a good time to bring it up, which had been the core of the plan all along. “So, I looked into Pitt. I can take some courses there that will transfer to my major at Coborn.”

  Wyatt was never a particularly squishy pillow. Now the muscles under my cheek were about as soft as limestone as tension slammed into him. “No.”

  “Not your call,” I told him.

  He sat up and let me slide to the floor. “Why? Because it has nothing to do with me?”

  I stared up at the ceiling. “I want to be with you. It doesn’t matter to me where.”

  “That’s not the point. You can’t keep making decisi
ons about your future because of who you’re dating.”

  “Dating?” There was so much about his words that hurt, but I seized on that first. “That’s what we’re doing? Just dating?” I blinked up at the stucco.

  “No. It’s—we’re more. Will you look at me?”

  I tightened my jaw and turned toward him. If my eyes were watering, it was because I still had his jizz up my nose. “Now who’s bringing up Blake?”

  Wyatt groaned in frustration. “Can we stick to one topic?”

  “I’m trying. I’m all-out trying for Best Supporting Boyfriend in a Family Drama.”

  “I think you’re trying to turn it into a disaster movie.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  I flopped on my back again but he followed me, looming over my face. He was so close his bangs swung down to brush my cheek.

  “Ethan.” He said my name like a caress, and I had to swallow again. “You’re the one who’s acting like the end has to be tragic. Don’t you think we can survive a few months apart?”

  “Four months.” I wasn’t letting him get away with being vague.

  “Okay. Four months. Christine and Owen already said you can visit as much as you want. And your new bestie is safely installed.”

  He moved back as I sat up and looked at the air conditioner we’d brought over. Now that both of us were done with our internships we’d abandoned the B-bros to their cesspool of a lifestyle choice and had moved our stuff over here. It definitely saved me time driving Wyatt to work in the morning.

  I leaned my back against the bed and faced him. “Then I don’t see why I can’t withdraw for the semester like you and take a few classes at Pitt. That way both of us can help out with Owen.”

  “You don’t trust me?” Wyatt’s voice shook, with hurt, not anger.

  “Of course I trust you.”

  “Maybe you can’t go that long—” Wyatt started.

  “It’s not about sex.” That I could say that with a throat full of jizz was ballsy, but I meant it. Sex was a big part of us, but him having sex with someone else wasn’t what kept me up at night. I didn’t worry about someone getting him off better. I worried about someone getting him better.

  Wyatt wiped at my comey lips with a smile. “Right.”

  “I thought you felt the same way I did. About us.”

  “I do. Hey, think of it this way, if I skip a semester, we’ll be closer to graduating at the same time so we don’t have to go through this again.”

  I leaned forward. “So you see us being together after graduation?”

  Wyatt looked a little confused, then he blushed. I’d never seen him redden, except during sex. “Yeah. I do. Isn’t that—I mean, don’t you?”

  “Fuck yeah.” I tackled him backward. “But you’ve never said that.”

  He blinked. “I haven’t?”

  “Asshole. Like you forget anything.”

  He reached up and grabbed my face between both hands. He spoke slowly, pausing between each word. “I. Want. A. Future. With. You. Ethan. Monroe.”

  “Can I get it in writing? Like your non-disclosure agreement?”

  “Later.” He started to pull me down.

  “Hey, you know what else I’ve got a lot of practice with, I mean besides blow jobs, which, by the way, you so owe me one.”

  He gave me a wary look.

  “Long-distance relation—”

  He cut me off with a kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ethan

  “How many days left now, countdown boy?” Makayla welcomed me back from Thanksgiving break with her usual charm.

  “Twenty-three until my last final, thanks for asking.” I sprawled on her bed.

  “Look at you facing end-of-semester drudgery with a song in your heart.” She kicked at my foot and flopped next to me. “Of course, that might be because you’re looking forward to an end-of-semester fuckfest.”

  I adopted a malicious grin. “My bus trip back to Coborn took a forty-eight hour detour through Pittsburgh so I’m still basking in the afterglow.” Including a six-minute detour in the bus stop’s bathroom yesterday before I left.

  “You’re not the only one.” She dipped her chin and waggled her brows.

  “Yes.” We fist-bumped. I knew she’d had one hell of a dry spell so I was really happy for us both. Her for getting some and me for not having to listen to her complain. “Wait. Not a high-school ex, because that is the path to hell.”

  She punched me in the shoulder. It hurt.

  “No. He went to a different school. But we ended up at the same boring party on Friday night and he called me even after we hooked up. He goes to Pitt so maybe we’ll be riding the fuck bus down I-79 together.”

  My phone rang with Wyatt’s ring tone.

  Makayla pushed me off the bed with her foot. “Insatiable. Go have phone sex in your own room if Connor will put up with it.”

  I was laughing when I answered. “Hey. Miss you too since yesterday.”

  “Hi. Do you have a minute?” He sounded serious.

  I walked to Makayla’s door. “Sure. Owen’s not—” Relapsing? I didn’t know what to call a setback now. He’d been getting around great over the weekend, using crutches and putting some weight on the leg. He might be cleared to drive by Christmas.

  “He’s fine. They’re talking about going car shopping for something automatic.”

  I was out in the hall. I didn’t feel like going back to my own room. Connor and Amy had gotten into a huge fight two weeks ago and still weren’t speaking. Even I was running out of things to say to him about it. “So what’s up?” I asked.

  “Where are you?”

  “Don’t you mean what am I wearing?”

  “Just come out to the perimeter road, near the admissions building.”

  I stuffed the phone in my jeans pocket and ran. My socks got wet on the frozen grass. I suppose I should have stopped for shoes. I slid but managed to keep my feet.

  The early sunset bounced off the windshield of the Civic where it was parked in front of Stanley Hall.

  Wyatt opened his door. “Where’s your coat?”

  I leaned in and hugged him, then kissed him, hard. I didn’t care if I’d just done it yesterday. I was making up for lost time. He pulled away too soon.

  “Your nose is cold.”

  I clapped my hand over it and straightened up from where I’d been half in the car with him. “Hey. You—you passed.” The examiner had been a real asshole the first time he took the road test, mumbling the directions. Wyatt said the guy had seen him signing with Owen and Christine and had asked if Wyatt was “hard of hearing.”

  “Yup. Officially licensed driver by the state of Pennsylvania. Get in.”

  I ran around to the passenger door. My socks stuck as the moisture on them froze to the pavement.

  “Why don’t you have on shoes?” He shook his head. “Never mind. You’re kind of messing up my surprise now.”

  “There’s more of a surprise?”

  “There is. But first I’ll take you to get your shoes.”

  When we got to the dorm parking lot, I said, “Don’t come in, okay? Because people will want to talk and I want you all to myself.”

  “And you want to find out what the surprise is.”

  “Duh.”

  I was back in under a minute. Connor had his headphones on and I don’t even know if he noticed me come in.

  I forgot a jacket, though.

  Wyatt just shook his head when I got back in the car. “How come you were so on top of things when Uncle Owen was hurt and you can’t dress yourself for the weather?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  Wyatt barked a laugh. “I see your communications courses are already h
aving an effect.”

  He drove us past the drugstore and the pizza place and turned at the corner with the Tim Hortons and pulled into a parking lot rippled with frost-heaves. The row of parking spaces lined up on one side of a barn-sized building with chipped fake cedar siding. I was totally confused until I saw the evenly spaced doors. An apartment building.

  Wyatt kept the car—and the heat—running. “I knew it would be impossible to get a room together next semester, and not just because of the policy about same-sex couples not sharing. After Uncle Owen was able to get out of the wheelchair, I started working more hours. Not much else to do.”

  “Besides phone sex with me.”

  “Besides that,” he agreed.

  I wanted to blurt out Which one is ours? but I let him talk.

  “I came up and checked it out today. Number four. It’s upstairs. One tiny bedroom, narrow kitchen. But the living room is big and the bathroom is new.”

  Nothing Wyatt had ever said meant more than this. He wanted—needed—us together as much as I did.

  I wanted to lunge over and get my hands on him but the stick was in the way—which was an example of irony I would probably not be pointing out in my Rhetorical Power and Popular Culture class tomorrow.

  I eyed the backseat, but that wasn’t looking promising either. I’d have to settle for teasing him.

  “It looks nice, but sophomores aren’t allowed to live off campus...”

  “Who said I was asking you to live with me?” He smiled.

  “...unless they’re married, of course.”

  He choked, then recovered. “Well, Christine did say if I didn’t marry you she would.”

  “Don’t you think she’s a little old for me?”

  “Definitely.” He put his hand on my cheek and turned me to face him. “What do you say to living in sin and flipping off housing regulations?”

  “I say fuck you to residential life and fuck me to you.”

  He kissed me. “How good are Connor’s headphones?”

  “Want to test them?”

  He shook his head. “There are always the back stairs in Butler.”

 

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