“You know any other guy would be across the room, beating my face in right now,” North says. “You just don’t seem that upset.”
I don’t? That’s news to me because I fucking feel all of it. I feel betrayed, and I’m heartbroken. Not over Jess. I can’t really blame her. I’m jealous of her; that’s where all of my anger stems from, that she’s been with North and I can’t ever have that. That is never going to be an option for me.
“Fuck you.”
“Is that what you want?” North challenges. I glare at him. I can’t move. My feet are frozen in place and my stomach threatens to spill the contents of the three-day-old pizza we found earlier in the fridge.
“What the fuck? No!” I say, because I don’t know what else to do. Fear slides down my spine, kicking my fight-or-flight mode into overdrive, but all I can do is stand there as North gets up and takes a step towards me, eliminating the distance between us.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice sounding panicked.
“Relax,” he says, cupping the side of my face. “I’m just trying something.”
“Fuck off, North.” I push his hands, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans in and runs his tongue along my lower lip. I hold perfectly still, too afraid to breathe. If he’s fucking with me then I’m screwed because I am growing as hard as fucking cement right now, and all I want is to plunge my tongue in his mouth and kiss him, but I can’t.
I can’t trust this. I can’t trust him.
My best friend is kind of a dick. It’s why we get on so well. He’s also a practical joker, and I never know up from down with him. It’s what I like about him, but in this moment? I hate him for mocking me. I hate him for giving me a taste because I’m sure that with his next breath he’ll rip it all away. He’ll shove me and tell me he was just kidding, and that I should see my face because I look like I’ve just shat my pants.
“Relax, Will,” he says, smoothing my cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like?”
I swallow hard, and close my eyes. If only he knew. If only he had some idea of how long I’ve wanted this.
No.
I shove my hands against his chest. He stumbles back and catches himself before he can lose his footing. I take a step towards the door and find myself thrust up against it. North clutches my arm, and twists it painfully behind my back.
“I know what you want, Will, and I know it isn’t pussy. It’s cock,” he whispers the last in my ear, sending a shudder down my spine.
I shake my head and whimper, “No.”
“Yes.” His hot breath on my neck sends all my senses into overdrive, making me fucking crazy. I grind my erection against the door and moan, desperate to relieve the ache. “Let me do this, and you’ll know for sure.”
“Know what?” I hiss, struggling. He grasps the nape of my neck and holds me in place, my cheek firmly pressed against the wood.
“You’ll know if that’s what you are.” North buries his face in my neck and licks the salt from my skin. “And you can finally stop torturing yourself.”
I don’t know what I expected walking into the bar tonight. I deliberately left it late, even though I thought I’d go in-fucking-sane having to sit on the couch and watch reality TV with Tammy. My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. I couldn’t stop checking the time, or my phone for any new texts. Not that I’d expect Will to still have my number after all these years.
I haven’t been this fucking nervous since the night I fucked him in my bedroom. All day at work I couldn’t help but think about his lips on mine, and the way we’d fit together last night, the same as we always had. After twelve long years, my body remembered him—the feel, the taste, and the way he liked to be taken completely by my mouth. Our bodies remembered; it was muscle memory.
I didn’t blame him for telling me no. In a way I’m glad he did, because if he hadn’t stopped it and Victoria and her friends had shown up, my day would have gone a lot differently. I would have spent it figuring out how I was supposed to meet my mortgage repayments after I’d handed in my resignation. The guys from the mill could never find out about this.
When I walk in, Will isn’t behind the bar. Instead, he’s sitting at a table with an irritated glare on his face. Paperwork surrounds him. He doesn’t look up, which is just as well because the rowdy group of men at the bar all cheer as I walk in. There’s one who doesn’t greet me though. My father.
Fuck.
I hadn’t counted on seeing dad tonight. From the looks of him he’s already three sheets to the wind, and he seems to have forgotten all about our little argument the other day, because when I wander over he thumps me on the back, and gestures to Sal for another beer. The rest of the guys welcome me with a round of cheers and handshakes, and then I’m plied with enough booze to drown a fucking horse.
Clearly, I’ll be walking home again tonight. Unless I can convince a certain someone to let me have a sleepover for old times’ sake.
I glance over at the table once more, expecting to find him there, long fingers buried in his black hair, tattoos peeking out from the hem of his sleeve, and his brow furrowed in frustration—Will always hated paperwork—but the table is empty. Save for our group, the bar is dead, and Sal is calling last drinks.
The boys all grumble their complaints, though most of them are too shitfaced to stand upright without falling over. Our numbers are pretty slim anyway; Dad piked already, Smithy went home to his wife like a good little lap dog, and there’s only Rooster, Tommo and Dan left. I glance around the bar, but can’t find Will anywhere.
“You looking for someone, kid?” Tommo asks.
“Nah,” I say, chugging the rest of my beer and slamming the glass down on the table. “Just trying to gauge how far I’m willing to go to drain the one-eyed trouser snake, you know?”
Not technically a lie.
I slide off my stool and head to the men’s. When I push inside, Will is shaking it at the trough. He tucks himself inside his jeans and clears his throat. My gaze darts up to his face. He cocks a brow. “Something you want, North?”
“Yeah,” I hear myself saying. “Err … no. I’m ah … just coming to play.” I shake my head. “Pee.”
Fucking kill me now.
“Needed to drain the dragon.”
The dragon? Jesus Christ.
I may be pretty damn proud of my cock—it is a very nice cock—but even I know it’s not worthy of the title I just bestowed upon it. Will chuckles.
Bastard.
I let out a puff of air, and because I figure things can’t get much worse, I say, “Listen, about last night.”
“It never happened.” The smile melts from Will’s face as he turns to the sink and washes his hands.
“Yeah, well that’s the thing.” I run a hand over the back of my neck. “It did.”
He meets my gaze in the mirror. “Forget about it, North.”
“What if I can’t?”
Will inhales. It’s a short and impatient breath, and he glances at me from under his lashes. “Then I’d tell you it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m sorry I was a dick,” I blurt out, as he walks to the door. “I hurt you.”
Will pauses with his hand on the knob. He shakes his head, and just when I think he’s not going to say anything more, he turns the full weight of his anger on me. “You didn’t hurt me; you destroyed me. You cut me off completely. I was … I was in love with you, and you treated me like shit.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“And yet you did,” he says, pointedly. “You had years to rectify that shit, and now you want back in? I can’t do it again, North.”
“So what? You’re just gonna be alone for the rest of your life?”
“And how exactly would you change that? You gonna man up and come out of that fucking closet you buried yourself in? You gonna be my life partner, North? Make sure I’m not lonely? Tell the whole town that bigotry and hate and the emotional abuse doesn’t matter, because love is
love?”
My face falls. What am I doing here? I can’t go down this path with him again. I may no longer be a scared little kid, but nothing has changed. In twelve fucking years, not a single thing has changed—not the way he makes me feel, not the way the town ridicules and demoralises anyone who might be different, and not the fact that I’m still just as much a coward now as I was back then.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Will says, and without another word, he leaves.
“Stop playing games, Will.” North tightens his grasp on my neck.
“I don’t do games,” I say through my teeth.
My hands are crushed between my torso and the door, so I can’t fight back. A part of me doesn’t want to.
“Say you want it,” he whispers, moving closer. His body engulfs me from behind, so much bigger, stronger, but that isn’t what turns my resolve to jelly. It’s the hard cock pressed against my arse that melts every last bit of self-preservation I have. I want it. God, do I want it. It will fuck up everything we have. It will destroy us. He’ll resent me for having done it, and I’ll fall even more in love with him. But I want it all the same.
My dick throbs. Anymore fucking anticipation and I’ll combust—or come in my pants like a fucking kid. North grinds his cock against my arse just once, and then his hand is gone from my neck and cool air drifts over my spine as he moves away.
“Tell me you want me,” he says, and his words are more plea than demand like before. I don’t move my body away from the door because I’m terrified of him seeing how hard I am, even now. I turn my head to look at him. He’s defeated. He stands with his arms by his sides, his face flushed and eyes fever-bright with desire, but there’s a sadness in his expression that I don’t understand.
Did he want me to be gay? Does he want this as much as I do?
Slowly, I turn. His gaze travels from my face down my chest and to the bulge in my pants. His pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I want you, North. I’ve always wanted you.”
For a sickening second, the world stops turning. My stomach lurches and nausea sweeps over me as I stare at my best friend, waiting to hear that he was just messing with me, waiting for him to cut me down and reduce me to a whimpering mass on the floor. He takes a step towards me and he shoves me back against the door. For a beat, I glare up at him, wondering if my worst fears are about to be realised, wondering if he’s going to punch me in the head, or recoil and tell me to get the hell away from him.
Another step. Another inch between us eliminated. I put my hands up to push him away, but they grab his shirt instead, fisting it, and pulling him closer.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says, and I think he meant for it to sound sarcastic, but his voice is deep and husky, breathless, as if he’s just run a marathon.
North grabs my face in his hands and covers my lips with his. His tongue pushes into my mouth, coaxing my own. There’s nothing gentle about it, so I let go of my reservations and I kiss him right back, the way I’ve wanted to for years.
I moan into his mouth and relax my fist. I slip my hand under the fabric and touch the hard abs, toned obliques, and light dusting of hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.
Jesus, the man’s a fucking walking hard-on.
Our kisses become more frenetic, tongues, lips, breath and teeth. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It’s animal, instinctual. Brutality at its most beautiful. He pushes himself closer, allowing me to feel how hard he is, how much he wants me. Me. It ignites something in my blood, something carnal, a beast lain dormant for far too long.
I grab the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms so that I can pull it off his gorgeous muscled body. I lean forward to kiss him again but North pushes me back against the door, and I think that this is it. This is the moment he realises he can’t do it, not even for me, not even just to try. I slam my head against the wood, my eyes flashing open when he presses his finger tip against my mouth in a shushing motion. North pulls my shirt off and lowers his head. He licks at the piercing through my nipple, tugging it with his teeth. I groan. I can’t help it.
Pressing his fingers to my lips again, he reminds me to be quiet. I nod. He takes hold of my erection through my jeans and squeezes. I lick my lips as he unfastens my fly and pushes my pants down off my hips. My cock springs free, and there’s a beat, a brief second where he looks at me as if he’s trying to say something but can’t. He takes my dick in his hand and tugs. An involuntary moan escapes me, and it seems like that’s all the encouragement North needs. He steps back and drops his pants, and I’m not at all disappointed; he’s long, thick and perfectly pink. Breath leaves my lungs in a rush. My friend might be an arsehole, but I know not even he would carry on this long just to get a rise out of me. Which means he wants it.
“Turn around,” he says in a voice thick with desire.
“What?”
“Face the fucking door, Will. Jesus, do I need to draw you a diagram?”
I stare at North, dumbfounded. All the ways I visualised this going in my head, this wasn’t it. That doesn’t make it bad, just different. But none of that really matters. I want him, and he very clearly wants me, so I do as he asks. I shuffle around and face the door, and I wait.
North’s hands find me again. From behind he grips the base of my cock, and I jerk in surprise when I hear him spit. I’m tensed to spring when he separates my cheeks and rims my hole with his moistened finger. My body’s response is automatic; my cock bobs, my balls tighten, and I widen my stance. He pushes against my hole and then slowly slips inside. It hurts. I feel the drag and pull of his skin burn my sensitive flesh as he moves in and out. I’ve never had the guts to experiment with anything, not even my own fingers, so I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess that wasn’t it. He pushes in farther, angling his finger and sweeping that sweet spot inside. I moan, arching against his hand, and when he strokes my cock from base to tip, sparks fly and ignite the whole fucking room.
Too quickly though, North removes his hands from my body. I breathe hard and the cool air at my back gives me some much needed respite. I’m on fire. I didn’t know it could feel like this.
North’s hand grasps my hip. He moves closer and a second later, the head of his cock juts proudly up against my arse. It’s wet, like he’s lubed himself up. He takes hold of his dick and glides it from my puckered flesh, along my perineum and back again. My balls tighten, and I use one hand to tug them back into place. North’s cock slides back to my hole, massaging the sensitive flesh with his head.
I groan. “Just fucking do it already.”
He chuckles, and the laughter dies in his throat and turns to a hiss of pleasure as he pushes into me. I brace my hands against the door and pace myself. All the cock teasing means I’m already close to coming, but I press my cheek to the wood and try to temper my body’s response. He rocks slowly into me at first, inching in farther little by little until he’s seated firmly inside. North pistons his hips, and when I cry out his hand clasps over my mouth.
“Shh. That mouth of yours is going to get me in trouble, William.” He warns, nipping at my ear as his hips drive faster, his dick pounding into me so hard I have to lift my head so his thrusts won’t force me to bang against the wood. Desperate for release, I take hold of my cock and jerk, but North’s hand slides from my mouth, over my nipple and stomach and wraps around my own. My orgasm jolts through me, and a silent cry escapes my mouth as hot jets of creamy white come hit the door. North’s hand travels from my erection up my torso and rests against my franticly beating heart. He presses a kiss to my neck, and I slump back against him as I catch my breath.
I don’t have words. I don’t even know if I still exist at all. Not that there was any doubt in my mind, but if I wasn’t sure about being gay before I definitely know I am now. That was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and I hope to fuck I get to feel it again.
He slides free of my body, and I turn as he’s pulling up his jeans.
<
br /> “You’re still hard,” I say. He seems unsurprised by this blatantly obvious statement. Oh shit. I got so fucking caught up, I failed to notice whether or not he came. Fuck. I am an arsehole of epic proportions.
“Here, let me,” I say, reaching out to cup him in his ripped jeans.
“No,” he says, knocking my hand away. “I’m fine.”
Well, that’s nice, but I’m fucking confused to all shit.
Why wouldn’t he want me to touch him? North sighs and points to the door. “I gotta go take care of this.”
“Right,” I say, and move back. He opens the door just enough to creep through and then closes it firmly behind him.
I glance around the room with my dick hanging out, my come sliding down the door and pooling on the threadbare carpet, and I haven’t got a fucking clue. I just had the most mind-blowing orgasm of my goddamn life, courtesy of my best friend’s cock, and he’s running for the bathroom to wash the gay off.
Why in the fuck did I think that was a good idea?
I head home and find Tam asleep on my couch, and despite knowing better, I push her flimsy little negligee up her thighs and cover her cunt with my mouth. I’ve always loved eating pussy—the taste, the scent, the feel of a woman as she rides your face and comes against your tongue. It’s one of my favourite pastimes, and I am damn good at it. I love women. I love those pretty pink lips between their legs, but tonight, it does nothing for me.
I’ve never identified as gay. I’ve never looked at another man and thought about fucking them. It was a one-time thing … or it was meant to be. I knew Will had been sporting a boner for me since the sixth grade; I just didn’t care. And then, as he slowly seemed to grow more confident in his skin, as he fully came to terms with what he was, who he is, that confidence became more and more alluring. Only he hadn’t come out to me, which I found both confusing and annoying. We shared everything.
“North,” Tammy shouts, and gyrates her hips against my face. Shit. I’ve been spacing out for fuck knows how long. I lap at her pussy, but I avoid her clit because I know that sends her over the edge, and tonight—though I know it’s cruel and fucked up beyond measure—I don’t care what she wants because I want her milking me with her tight snatch. I need to pretend that she’s someone else.
Finding North Page 4