by Peter Styles
He licked around the base, pressing kisses just this side of too hard around me. He sucked me all the way down until my dick pressed to the back of his throat, and then he swallowed, once, twice, fuck, and then relaxed his throat, bringing his hands up to my hips to encourage my movements. Gladly, I let my hips rock to him, feeling the wet slide of his mouth against me.
I could feel myself speeding up, too fast, too hard, hips fucking against his face, but Max just moaned around me, fingernails digging into my skin hard enough that the skin was probably splitting. He used his lips and tongue to get me as wet as possible as he bobbed his head up and down, my rotating and jerking hips seemingly not preventing his movements at all.
He tore off of me after a second, leaning back on his heels and pressing a hand to his own straining erection.
I was breathing too heavily, blood pounding too hard, for me to come up with something coherent to say. Sweat dripped down from Max’s hairline, his cheeks a bright red, as he heaved out breathes.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned out after a minute.
Heat filled my veins so hot that the room felt nearly cold. The hand that I still had in his hair tugged hard. His eyes rolled and he stood up, all the while stringing curses out of his swollen red lips.
I yanked at his pants, sloppily and desperately trying to get Max stripped. He caught on quickly and shimmied out of them, toeing out of his jeans and socks easily.
I pushed against his chest until he moved backwards. When the back of his knees hit the bed, I knocked him onto it.
Max fell hard enough to bounce a little. He grinned. “Bossy.”
“Shut up.” I followed him down and kissed him hard enough to bruise. I could feel the sharp pleasure-pain burn through the kiss, and from Max’s low rumble in his chest and the fast, circular motions his hips were rocking against mine, he felt it, too.
I moved down his jaw, biting at the skin there, before sucking slow and hard on his neck. Max let out a long, filthy sound that had my hips jerking forward and my teeth sinking into his skin. He whimpered, and I licked over the spot.
I continued my way down his chest, licking over his nipples and gently flicking them with my tongue. Max cursed, loudly, and did it again and again until he was writhing against me, our cocks rutting against each other with only the wet cotton of his boxers separating us.
“You’re,” he gasped out and started again. “A fucking cocktease.”
I nipped at his hipbone, and pressed a tender kiss to the bruise I had just sucked there before sliding down lower.
I swallowed hard when I came face to face with the straining, twitching cock trapped in Max’s boxers. The other night … a hand job was one thing. This was something unfamiliar, something—
My own dick twitched in response.
I licked tentatively against the wet material there.
“Oh, fucking hell.” Max’s hands fisted in the sheets. Encouraged, I did it again before slowly taking the black material in my mouth, sucking a little around the cloth-covered tip. Max mewled out a reply I couldn’t quite process.
My hands shook a little, but I managed to get the boxers slid down his hips and off of his body without too much trouble.
And fuck, I knew what this night was, but I was starting to have doubts.
Max’s cock was fucking incredible—I hadn’t seen any in real life before, save mine and the occasional, accidental glance in a locker room; but even with a lifetime of secret gay porn in the bank, nothing could have prepared me for Max’s dick.
Long and curved, Max was huge—his tip was a scarlet red, the beads of precum dribbling out over the ridges as they slid down him. Without thinking, I reached out and slid my thumb through it. When I had enough covering my thumb, I popped it into my mouth and sucked.
Max cursed again.
I moaned around my thumb.
“You’re such a cocktease,” he cried again.
I lost my breath looking at him. Spread out across the blanket, his eyes closed, lips still swollen and wet, his chest heaving as he fought to stay in control — I wanted to take everything he had to offer.
I wrapped my lips around him.
He tasted—sharp. Sharp, and salty, and unfamiliar enough that my first instinct was to pull off, but then Max let out the most incredible sounds I’d ever heard, and I forced myself to breathe through my nose and sink further on him.
I only lasted a few minutes of gentle pressure, licking and kissing my way down him, when I realized I couldn’t relax my throat enough to get him all the way down, but then Max was pulling me up to him and crushing our lips together, chasing the taste of himself all across my mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Luke.” Max said my name in between kisses, his hands sliding down my arms, across my chest, over the ridges of my hipbones. He was everywhere, and not anywhere near close enough.
I wound my legs around him, tightening to keep him close, and he moaned loudly. “Fuck, Luke, can I—can we—what do you want?”
I couldn’t breathe; I kissed him again.
He tore away. “No, Luke, man, you gotta—fuck, oh, shit, do that again!”
I rotated my hips and ground down against him. He fucked his hips up to meet me halfway before remembering he was saying something. “You gotta tell me what you want.”
I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted to be burned, and to put the fire out, and to let it consume me entirely, and I wanted—“More.”
“More? What—that’s so vague!” Max bit at my bottom lip, and we fought for dominance in the kiss for a few moments.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, just—more.”
Max pulled away and looked at me. His eyes flickered across my face. “I could—I have stuff in my bag.”
“On a work trip?” I blurted out.
Max’s lips quirked. “You never know.”
I let out a laugh that was too breathy to be anything concrete. He slid out from under me and went to the corner where his bag was, rummaging around before coming back with a small tube and a condom.
“Do you want to—or do you want me?” Max swallowed hard, schooling his face to casual indifference, even as his cock jumped eagerly.
I sat up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back on the bed with me. “I want you to.”
His eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. He surged down and kissed me, and then asked again. I nodded. “Yes, please, Max, please.”
He nodded quickly. “Turn around.”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest and I quickly threw myself around. I shook with anticipation as his hands pressed down on my ass, gently massaging me for a minute. I could feel myself relax under his hands.
Then, just as suddenly, he was gone. I heard the wet pop of the lube being opened.
His fingers were cold against me, and I squirmed as I got used to the new sensation. I had done this to myself a few times, but someone else was an entirely different ballgame.
Max leaned over me and murmured softly in my ear. “Tell me if you want me to stop or—do something else. You’re in control here, Luke.”
I nodded against the pillow. He kissed gently the outside of my ear and slid one finger against me, the wet friction of him forcing a gasp out of my lungs. He circled my hole, keeping me breathless, before slowly gliding in.
I gasped. He froze as my muscles locked and I tried to get used to the feeling.
I forced my muscles to unlock and relax. “Move,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Max, move.” I wiggled against him, gasping at the way his fingers brushed over me.
Max moved one finger inside of me before slipping a second one in, pressing and opening me up. I couldn’t help my hips moving, setting a slow and steady pace as he fucked me with his fingers. He slid against me easily, curling into me. When he slid a third in, my vision whited out and I saw stars.
He moved slowly, and then—
“Oh, shit, oh,
fuck there, yes.” My hips slammed back onto his hand, my ass rotating and desperately grinding. My cock was caught between my stomach and the bed, and I struggled to find a pace that let me fuck against Max’s fingers and the bed at the same time.
“Fuck, fuck, Max, I—please, more.”
Max paused. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” I cried, fucking back against him once more, hard, for good measure.
Max kissed the back of my neck as he slowly pulled out. He tapped my hip. “Roll over.”
I moved quickly.
Max looked absolutely wrecked. His eyes were nearly all black now, his dick a painful-looking red. I reached out and curled my fingers around it.
He hissed. “Luke, let go before I ruin this night before it’s even gotten started.”
I let go immediately, hiding my smile in my shoulder. Max gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he rolled the condom onto himself and then poured more lube over him, carefully stroking himself.
“Are you ready?” he asked in a murmur.
I nodded eagerly and pulled at his shoulder. He used one hand to prop himself up, the other to lift my leg high. I moved the other one in tandem and wrapped them around him.
Slowly, Max lined himself up and pushed into me.
I gasped as the breath was knocked out of my lungs.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Max chanted, eyes locked on him disappearing inside of me. He had a pinched look on his face, as if it was painful for him to slide inside of me so slowly.
I concentrated on breathing deeply. After a second, I got used to the weight and relaxed.
Max waited until I started to move against him. I moaned, loudly, as the hard line of his cock brushed up against me and bright fireworks danced across my eyelids. He felt so good inside of me, better than I’d ever thought anything could feel.
Max began to pump faster, his hips moving steadily as he slowly slammed into me, rotating his hips in an exaggerated circle inside of me. I couldn’t stop the litany of moans coming from me, couldn’t stop the way I was desperately trying to fuck down onto his cock, chasing the feeling of him.
“You’re so good,” Max murmured, his head falling to my shoulder. “You feel so amazing, god, Luke, you’re so good.”
The praise was dizzying when accompanied by the slow drag of his hard cock inside of me. I could feel the familiar buzz underneath my skin already.
It was building quickly; every time Max fucked against that one spot inside of me, it grew brighter and brighter, until my fingernails were digging into Max’s shoulders, my hips desperately thrusting against him.
“Oh, fuck, yes, Luke, yes, you’re so good. Use me however you want, oh, God, yes.” Max was fucking me in earnest now, his hips snapping as he ground into me faster and faster. Sweat was dripping down his chest, his face, and I could feel it on me. My cock ached between our bodies, the drag of its head against our abdomens too much, and then—
Max bit down on my shoulder, sucking a bruising kiss into it, and I moaned loudly.
I came hard, my breath catching and heart stopping as my cock twitched, long ropes of cum shooting out to paint both of our chests. I could feel myself tense around him, my muscles tighten and holding him close as my abdomen spasmed.
“Max!” I called his name, too loudly, and then I felt him freeze, his body tensing, and then the warm feeling of his thrusting cock still as he came inside of me. His head fell lower on my chest, and another hot burst shot out of me.
When I managed to open my eyes again, Max was looking down at me. Some of my release had gotten on his chin and cheek. A bit of it was close to his lips. My eyes widened.
Max slowly pulled out of me, both of us wincing as he did so. His tongue swept out of his mouth and licked at the mess near his lips. I nearly passed out at the sight.
Breathing heavily, Max rolled to the side of me. I blindly reached around on the floor until I grabbed a piece of clothing and wiped down my chest and stomach, carefully cleaning off my spent cock with what one glance had me thinking were Max’s boxers. Then I rolled to my side and gently cleaned Max off.
I started with his face, and then cleaned his chest, slowly taking the condom off him and throwing it in the trash can beside the bed. I very carefully wiped him with the clean corner of the boxers and, after a satisfied glance to make sure he was actually clean, threw his boxers away, too.
Max watched me as I did this without saying anything. When I was done, he reached over and tugged me to him. We laid side by side, facing each other, our hands intertwined between us.
“So. That was something,” Max said quietly.
I felt myself smile, even as I tried to fight it. “Apparently.”
“Do we talk about it?” he asked, looking about as awkward as I felt.
I considered it. “We could talk about who does it next?”
Max grew a slow, wide grin. “See, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
“My ass,” I replied deadpan, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed, the sound almost jarring with how loud it was now that our pulses had settled down.
He scooted closer to me. We shifted until his head was on my chest and my arm was around him. I could feel his head move up and down as I breathed.
I wasn’t sure who fell asleep first, or when it happened, but I did know that for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they were how they were supposed to be.
11
Max
Luke’s voice was droning in my ears. I was used to that—our cubicles were close enough together, even being in different parts of the Quad—but there was something decidedly nicer when I heard it reverberating from his chest, his hand stroking through my hair.
My eyes were closed, but I could imagine Luke’s face as he spoke to his grandmother on the phone. I was thankful I had resisted the urge to make fun of him for calling his grandma when he first mentioned it. He had explained his family, how his grandparents had raised him, how close he was to them. I could hear it in his voice now.
“Yes, we’re—getting along. It’s not so bad, not as bad as I thought it might be.” He tugged at my ear, and I fought to stay quiet. He had asked me not to say anything incriminating.
I had rolled my eyes, but—now I heard it. In his voice. The words he carefully chose when he spoke about the trip. It was more than just not sharing your personal life with your grandparents; it was Luke, carefully walking the line of not coming out.
He would never be able to tell his grandma the truth. I could hear it, easily. The formality, the slow execution of his phrases. It made Luke make more sense to me; every interaction we’d had before this trip, hell, halfway on this trip, had been Luke using the same tone. That careful, dedicated quietness.
He was never going to tell them he was gay.
The knowledge made my chest ache in a way that was almost as surprising as it was painful.
Luke’s hand stilled in my hair as he hung up the phone. “I’ve got to go. Tell Grandpa I called. Yeah—yeah, okay. Okay. Sure. I love—yes, I love you, too. Bye.”
I hid my smile in his shirt. “You’re a grandmama’s boy. That’s embarrassing.”
“Fuck off.” Luke rubbed my head. I nearly purred.
We were sprawled across the motel bed, a rerun of an old sitcom playing on the small TV. It was relaxing in a way my life hadn’t been for, god ... years.
I couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t work to focus on, Mom to check on, Stella to manage. This motel was starting to become something more like a haven than a place we were trapped. Especially with Luke’s hard chest underneath my cheek.
Oh, fuck.
I was starting to like him.
Like him, like him.
The kind of like him where Stella would laugh, and this closet case was going to have power over me. Fucking hell.
I pushed off of his chest and sat next to him. My back pressed against the headboard and Luke glanced at me once before intertwining our fin
gers.
Fucking dork. I squeezed his hand.
“How is she?” I asked after a minute.
Luke frowned at me. “Who? Grandma?”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.
He smacked my shoulder. “She’s good. It’s—I usually see her every few days, just go over to the house to check on them. Grandpa’s getting older, can’t always do everything he thinks he can. Grandma, at least, is aware of her limitations. So, it’s weird. Being this far away.”
I hummed. “Do you think you’d ever leave? Like, leave-leave?”
“Leave Seattle?” he asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah. Like, I don’t know. Just leave?”
Luke breathed out of his nose, frowning. “I’ve never thought about it.”
I turned to him fully at that. “Never?”
“No,” he admitted. “It just hasn’t really occurred to me. I don’t know. Probably not. What if they needed me?”
My eyebrows raised. I said nothing. We watched a bit more of the TV.
“Do they know?”
“Know what?”
I raised an eyebrow. Luke’s mouth fell open a little, and he turned to the TV, so I spelled it out. “That you’re gay.”
“I’m not—” He stopped and frowned. “Okay. So that might be a bit more automatic than it is true.”
I laughed, and his lips twitched in a smile. I waited. Luke didn’t say anything.
I nudged him with my foot. “Luke.”
He nodded while still looking at the TV. “Um, so. No. They don’t.”
I blurted out my next question without even pausing. “Will they ever know?”
Luke swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. He didn’t answer.
The TV droned on, the laugh track feeling almost purposefully pointed when Luke’s silence was so loud.
Luke liked me—I knew that. It was more than just fun to fool around, I could tell. I’d had fuck buddies—I'd had a lot of them, in college and after. I’d even had a few closet-case fuck buddies.
They were ashamed of me, usually, or mad at me. They weren’t holding my hand while calling their grandmas kind of guys. They weren’t like Luke.
Luke hated my guts, except that he didn’t; he was gay, except that he wasn’t. If a tree fell in the forest, did anyone even hear it?