“No problem. Stay safe.”
“You too. Just make sure you give Clover a kiss from me.”
Before Drake could process what was going on, Tank pulled him in for a peck on the lips that wasn’t a peck at all, because it wouldn’t end.
The bag dropped to the floor, and Drake clutched at Tank’s top… no, his pecs, as he opened his mouth and licked Tank’s tongue, leaning against the firm body that haunted too many of his unfulfilled dreams.
Tank stared back at him, eyes that bit wider, but instead of backing off and asking questions, he just pushed on, letting his tongue join the dance. He slipped his hand into Drake’s hair, sending all of Drake’s alarms ringing. Both excited and frightened, Drake had no idea where he stood, and the fact that Tank hijacked the situation completely and walked him to the wall until Drake’s back hit it wasn’t helping.
He responded to the kiss, his head spinning with lust, but as Tank’s hands grew bolder, his brain was rapidly removed from the pool of serotonin.
Drake should have taken more time to think about what he wanted, because the way Tank slid his hand to Drake’s leg and pulled it to his hip felt so wrong he had no idea how to communicate it without causing offence. He stiffened further when Tank’s growing erection pressed against him like a knife about to stab him.
Drake pushed Tank back hard enough to make him hit the table. The bottle of whisky rattled, like a symbolic pause, before it settled in its original position while Drake watched Tank in confusion, because his heartbeat muted all other sounds. He was embarrassed to realize he’d hugged himself and quickly stretched his arms, struggling to keep his cool.
What the fuck was he to say?
This had been such a bad idea.
Tank watched him for endless seconds which felt as if Drake was about to bleed to death, but the spell broke when Tank took a swig straight from the bottle and sat back in the chair.
“Yep, give him that kind of kiss.”
Drake dug his heels into the floor at the impulse to run. He couldn’t just leave. If he did, their friendship would remain plagued by this unexplained moment. He needed to be a man about it and face the problem before it grew out of proportion.
“Look, Tank... I hadn’t planned this,” he said, even though he absolutely had.
Tank cocked his head. “What are you even saying?”
Drake counted to three and unglued himself from the wall. “That… things have changed between us,” he said, trying not to focus on the kiss he still felt. That had felt all too good until Tank had gotten too aggressive for his comfort.
This time, Tank was the one looking away. “Have they?”
Drake squirmed under the weight of the atmosphere between them. “Yes. Since Clover joined us, and we… well, there’s no better way to say it. We all have sex together,” he said, frustrated by how naked this conversation made him feel.
Tank squinted. “And you… don’t want that?”
Drake rubbed his face, hoping the pressure of his hands would wipe off his expression somehow. “No. What I’m saying is that it changed. Or is it just me?” he asked, meeting Tank’s gaze while his heart galloped.
“I haven’t changed. You let me touch you,” Tank’s voice was infuriatingly steady. As if none of this tormented him the way it did Drake.
“And you… what? You like that? Touching me?” Drake asked, and his gaze gravitated to the bottle. But no, he’d had too much already. He’d be driving home soon and couldn’t have any more.
“Yes.” Tank crossed his arms on his chest, watching Drake from head to toe. “I like kissing you. I like touching you. I like to smell your hair. I love it when our dicks rub against each other in Clover’s tight twinky ass. Shall I continue?”
“No. That’s enough,” Drake uttered before taking his seat again, just so that he wouldn’t awkwardly stand in front of Tank as if he were trying to pass an exam. His brain raced. So at least he knew the attraction was mutual. Maybe there was no point in beating around the bush after all. They could agree whatever they were doing already was a nice addition to their relationship with Clover and be done with it. Maybe he’d end up getting more of those dominant yet weirdly arousing kisses? Maybe he’d get his cock touched? Maybe he could invite Tank into his bed sometimes?
“I also like those.”
Tank took a deep breath and leaned forward. “So why’d you stop me?”
A sinking feeling dragged Drake’s stomach down, and he slowly rubbed his hands, pulling on the fingers until their joints creaked. “It was… I mean, you’re nothing like Clover. You’re like a machine, and you’re so fast with everything. You give me no space,” he said, embarrassed to talk about issues he should have gotten over years ago.
“Are you saying… things were moving too fast for you?” Tank’s question sounded serious, but the fucker was biting back a smile. “Should I ask you out on a date first? You already met my gran.”
Drake snarled, frustrated with the mocking. “What I’m saying is that I’m feeling… stuff for you, and I don’t fucking know how to deal with it,” he said and got up from the chair, torn whether he should continue this embarrassing spectacle or cut his suffering short and leave.
Tank grabbed his hand. “Sorry. Okay. Let’s rewind. What would you like to happen?”
Tank’s patience was both a blessing and a curse. If Tank was more brash with him, angry that things hadn’t gone his way, if he rolled his eyes one time too many, it would have been much easier to spark a fight with him, leave, and then try to forget about the whole mess.
But no. He was a good guy, of course.
He stared at the big hand holding his, and slowly, very slowly breathed in that glorious cologne. Its presence in the air made thinking so hard. “I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I’m confused. And I think that regardless of what I might want, we could just be incompatible, and that’s that.”
Tank squeezed his hand and got up to face him. “But you do like this, right?” He kissed Drake on the cheek. Then a bit higher, under the eye.
A shiver ran down Drake’s body, and he found himself nodding. This was ridiculous. He was almost thirty, he was gay, but he couldn’t shake off the sense that the proximity of a guy Tank’s size, a guy who exuded this kind of dominant energy, was a threat. “Yes. You’re just… much.”
Tank sighed and stroked Drake’s hair. “Can’t really get any smaller, Drake. And I wouldn’t want to. If you don’t like that then I’m not sure what we’re doing here. Are we talking about platonic feelings?”
“No. I’m just… you’re so hot it’s intimidating. I guess I’m scared,” Drake admitted, stuffing his hands into his pockets, because he’d be clawing his fingers otherwise.
Tank took his time processing that, but never stopped stroking Drake’s hair in that lazy rhythm that felt so soothing Drake imagined he could fall asleep to it. “You wanna cuff me? It’s not generally my thing, but I’m down with it if that helps.”
Relief made Drake’s muscles lax, and he cupped Tank’s face, for a moment just watching him as his emotions translated into thoughts. “Thank you. That would make things easier.”
Tank gave him a cocky smile. “Will be a first for me. I usually do the cuffing.” He gave Drake a kiss and sat in the chair, placing his arms behind it as if nothing about this unnerved him. “Go on.”
Drake was so overwhelmed he didn’t know where to start, but he always had cuffs on him, in case someone needed restraining, and he walked behind Tank’s chair, gaze sliding over the strong shoulders and thick neck. Tank wasn’t as inked as Pyro, but his skin was covered with quite a few tattoos. Some generic, of motorcycle parts and skulls, some more personal, like the jackal outline Tank’s whole unit had gotten before leaving Iraq.
Were they really doing this? The answer came in the form of clicks when the cuffs closed on the thick wrists. With only the chair in the way of mayhem, it wasn’t as much of a security measure as a way to ensure Tank wouldn’t overwhelm Drake w
ith his dominant nature, and he was okay with that.
“I don’t think I can do anal,” he whispered, feeling that more secure now that Tank’s hands were restrained. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the warm nape before running his hands down Tank’s naked chest, which he’d lusted after for too long.
Tank licked his lips. He followed Drake’s every move like a fly trap with eyes. “Okay. Will I get one of those first-class blowjobs then?”
Drake hummed and licked Tank’s ear, emboldened by his apparent helplessness. “I’ve been told you have a prize-winning cock.”
Tank ate that right up and grinned like a madman. “Like you didn’t know that already.”
Drake smiled back and pulled on Tank’s chin until their lips aligned for a kiss that sent a jolt throughout his body. “I haven’t tasted it yet. But I know it’s big, and that those balls contain a lot of lovejuice,” he said with a smirk, moving toward Tank in a single step.
The awkwardness had gone with the click of the cuffs. He wouldn’t be dominating Tank, but being in charge put him at ease in a whole new way. He’d never actually imagined Tank giving into him this way, but now that it was happening and this hunk of a man allowed Drake to take charge and encouraged touch, his senses burned with raw desire.
Tank leaned back and spread his legs, showing off his bulge. “It’s been a dry week for me.”
“Poor you. Let me take care of that. At least you won’t have to lie to your new work buddies when they ask you if you got laid,” Drake said, slowly getting to his knees between Tank’s thighs. He’d never talked to anyone quite like this during sex, maybe with the exception of Clover, but with Tank it felt as natural as breathing.
He pulled the zipper down and undid the top button before pulling on the two layers of fabric keeping him from seeing that beautiful cock, which for once would be hard for him.
Tank was so handsome with his eyelids lowered and dark eyes looking only at him. Drake had seen Clover on his knees in front of Tank countless times, but things were different from this perspective. Tank seemed somehow more imposing, yet he’d agreed to cuffs to put Drake at ease. He didn’t ask unnecessary questions and didn’t get defensive over Drake’s reluctance earlier. He understood he wasn’t the source of Drake’s discomfort, and being Tank, he offered a solution that worked so, so well.
“I wouldn’t kiss and tell,” Tank whispered.
“You sure? Clover would want to hear all about what I’m going to do now,” Drake said, pulling his fingertips down the massive chest and through the hair on Tank’s stomach. When the clothes were lowered enough and Tank’s cock came into view—thick and already getting darker as it hardened—Drake felt himself salivating.
Tank clicked his tongue and his eyes drifted off. “Oh. Hm.”
Drake had to fight himself for it, but he looked away from Tank’s cock. “What?”
“Clover. Is this… bad? Should we talk to him first? I’d hate to break his trust.”
Drake barely kept himself from rolling his eyes, because as decent as it was of Tank to consider this, he’d had more than his share of awkwardness and failure for the night. It was time for his reward.
So he leaned in and rubbed his nose against Tank’s. “Why do you think I decided to approach this topic at all tonight? Of course he knows.”
Tank licked his lips as they stretched into a smile. “Sly boy. Hope he gave you pointers.”
“My game’s so spot on after all,” Drake said with a shake of his head and squeezed Tank’s dick while emotion bubbled up in his chest when the handsome features relaxed in response to the touch.
Tank snorted, but arched his hips up, spreading his thighs in invitation. “You’ve got no game.”
“It’s a good thing I’m in a relationship then. Don’t have to work for it so hard.” Drake grinned and sat back on his heels, pumping the thick girth to hardness while his attention settled on the fat balls below. With a soft whine he couldn’t hold in, he buried his nose in the trimmed pubes and tasted the sac, gently rolling the tip of his tongue through the loose skin.
When he didn’t have to worry about Tank’s strong hands pushing him down, he could enjoy the cock he’d watched so many times. Impressive in size, cut and veiny, it really was a thing of beauty. Much darker than Clover’s red-pink dick, it was the embodiment of masculinity, and Drake was no longer hesitant about his touch.
Tank leaned forward to watch, but his breath had already quickened, making glee flare in Drake. He was the cause of Tank’s excitement. And he had the upper hand, despite being on his knees.
“Right now, you’ve only got one job,” Tank rasped.
“And what. Will. I. Get. In. Return?” Drake asked, punctuating each word with a lick to Tank’s balls. The sweaty skin reminded him of what Tank had risked to see him tonight, and he met his gaze, sucking one of the large nuts into his mouth while his hand tirelessly worked on the hard cock.
Tank grunted, his gaze getting blurry. “Happy to return the favor.”
Pleasure took hold of Drake’s cock, and he hummed around the sensitive flesh before taking in the other globe. Tank’s dick was already seeping pre-cum onto Drake’s fingers, so he only sucked on the ball for a couple of seconds before lapping his way up, all the way to the tip.
“Yes,” Drake whispered when the saltiness spread on his tongue, and he took his time teasing the head while his gaze darted up to meet Tank’s. He knew how to recognize the signs of lust, and being the source of it was one of his biggest turn-ons.
Where Clover was slender, easy to carry and manhandle, Tank was packed with muscle and his pecs were so impressive Drake wanted to give Tank’s nipples a squeeze just to see them twitch.
“Oh, yeah. Show me what you’ve got,” Tank huffed, rolling his head from side to side, and Drake couldn’t help the satisfaction of seeing him so restless when it was usually Tank who called the shots.
He would show him. He’d make Tank lust after his lips throughout his lonely nights, and occupy his sexual dreams forever.
Without thinking much, he opened his mouth wide to accommodate the girth and lowered himself over the length, without ever breaking eye contact. Shivers danced on his back when the thick flesh passed through natural barriers in his throat, but he relaxed, eager to showcase his abilities.
The cry of pleasure from Tank was all the praise Drake needed. His new lover thrashed in the chair, squirming as his legendary self-control went out of the window—all thanks to Drake’s throat.
“Fuck yes. Fuck yes!” Tank panted, and just seeing him in this state had Drake’s own dick throbbing for touch.
He squeezed his lips around the base and then withdrew, until the cockhead left his throat and twitched on his tongue. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked on the salty flesh, ignoring his own arousal in favor of giving Tank one hundred percent of his attention. His lips and hand moved up and down the column of flesh, his tongue teased it, discovering the most sensitive of places, and once Tank settled into this easy rhythm, Drake deep-throated him again.
There was something weirdly satisfying about being able to do that. To just open up to the man he wanted and offer him something he wouldn’t do for just anyone. So he listened and watched Tank’s body, adjusting to his reaction to first pull him toward orgasm, only to prolong the pleasure by changing something in the rhythm.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tank whined. “You really are good at this. If you make me cry I’m gonna beat you up.”
Drake could have laughed at the empty threats if he didn’t have a cock all the way down his throat. He didn’t remember ever seeing Clover give Tank such thorough head. It wasn’t a question of which of them was better or worse at it, but Tank could definitely sense the difference in style.
With Clover, Tank would grab at the boy’s hair, then fuck his mouth until Clover gagged and drooled all over the place, which was hot in its own right. But with Drake, Tank wasn’t in charge. This was Drake’s stage, and he wasn’t wasting a minute o
f his moment of glory.
Tank’s thighs trembled, his hips thrust into Drake’s waiting mouth, and when everything grew more erratic within a couple of seconds, Drake knew what was coming. He pulled himself up just in time to taste the fresh cum erupting on his tongue. There was greed to his hunger for its flavor, but he didn’t care whether this was embarrassing when he longed to swallow it all.
The cock started softening once Tank relaxed, and Drake rested both his hands on the firm thighs, leaning up to kiss Tank’s mouth, which felt parched from moaning.
Tank, the guy who had four inches on him and weighed fifty pounds more, had been reduced to shivering goo by the powers of Drake’s mouth. Drake hadn’t known what he was doing when he’d entered this room, but the situation had completely flipped.
Tank stared at him, much more pliant in the kiss than he had been before, and there it was, a tiny bit of wetness in the corner of his eye. Drake couldn’t be prouder.
“You look so hot,” Drake whispered as he moved behind Tank to release his hands. His own cock was so hard he was glad he hadn’t worn anything restrictive, but he could wait a couple more seconds for his own release.
Tank must have been squirming, because the cuffs had left small red marks around his wrists. Drake stiffened when Tank suddenly grabbed his fingers, watching him with that same dreamy expression he’d had during his climax.
“Drake… I mean… that was so good. I don’t even know if I’m not embarrassed to suck you after this.”
Drake burst out laughing and pushed his fingers through the short hair on Tank’s head. He lived for Tank’s awe and planned to exploit it many more times in the future. He straddled Tank’s lap and sat on his thighs. As much as he wanted to come down Tank’s throat, right now he wished to kiss him.
“Use your hand then.”
Tank’s mouth stretched into a grin as he reached into Drake’s jogging bottoms, happy with himself like a kid winning the science fair. “So hard for me.” He was quick to pull Drake’s underwear lower, barely enough to reach Drake’s cock.
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