Page 97 of The Token Yank


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Eamonn didn’t think of putting his arm around Rafe’s waist. It was completely a subconscious choice, and it felt like a subconscious choice that made Rafe lean intohim.

“Fine,” Rafe said. “Once more for old timessake.”

A pang of sadness managed to squeak by and kick him in the stones. Eamonn held him close and smelled the mix of shampoo and manly scent of his hair. His hand warmed to the heat of Rafe’sskin.

Rafe wrapped his arm around Eamonn’s neck for balance. He rested his clean-shaven cheek against Eamonn’s scruff. It was like they were slow dancing down this slope with the big moon shining down onthem.

“I got you,” Eamonn said. Only this time, he was going to have to letgo.

Eamonn walked Rafe to his door. He thought he saw Heath go back to Louisa’s room, but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care because the only person that mattered at this second was standing in front ofhim.

“Are you all packed?” Eamonnasked.

Rafe opened the door. A suitcase stuffed to the brim sat on the floor by his bed. There were no signs of Rafe here. No posters or papers or notebooks. It amazed Eamonn how fast things could change. Just a few weeks ago, this room was bursting with life. Then just like that, it was bare, stripped of asoul.

It was the cold reality check Eamonn didn’t want. Rafe was going to be gone for good, and they were never going to see each other again. Maybe they would like each other’s pictures on Instagram and maybe Eamonn would send Rafe a text when he went to Asda, but it wouldn’t be the same. They would be going through the motions of keeping in touch and ignoring the fire that once roared betweenthem.

“Eamonn…” Rafe held hishand.

Eamonn was doing everything in his power not to cry, and it seemed Rafe was doing the same. They were each fortresses ofstoicism.

“It’s been totally awesome, dude,” Eamonn said one more time in his surferaccent.

“Yeah. I…” Rafe pursed his lips together in a tight dam of asmile.

“Me, too, Rafe. Me,too.”

“I really wish there wasn’t a fucking ocean betweenus.”

“How long until the continental shift happensagain?”

Rafe thought for a second. “A few billionyears.”

“I’m a patientfellow.”

“Well, I might be busythen.”

“Wanker.” Eamonn gave him a friendly punch in the chest. Rafe caught his fist and didn’t let go. A fire burned in hiseyes.

Eamonn kicked the door shut before Rafe pulled him into an epickiss.

Rafe

Rafe had pre-planned his outfit for the flight home. It was the same button-down shirt and jeans he’d worn on his flight over to England. He considered it a thoughtful bookend to his journey, and he wondered if his parents wouldnotice.

He threw said pre-planned outfit off his bed and across the room. He lay down and Eamonn got on top of him. Rafe gladly opened his mouth for Eamonn’s tongue to enter. They kissed and rolled around on the bed in a type of emotional wrestling match. They were in a cloud of sweat and tears and lust and need. All that existed was this moment, and Rafe tried to hold onto it like a firefly in hishand.

Eamonn’s hot breath filled up his mouth. He wrapped him in a cocoon of his arms, strong andsinewy.

Shirts came off, then pants, then underwear. Rafe’s fingers grazed down Eamonn’s cut chest and abs, reading them like a book in Braille. Rafe grasped at any and all parts of Eamonn, anything he could hold onto and commit tomemory.

Rafe spread his legs, letting Eamonn rest between them. His thick cock branded his inner thigh. Rafe’s erection was doing the same thingback.

“Tell me what you want to do tome.”

“I want to bloody devour you.” The rasp in his voice gave it extra edge. He kept stroking Rafe’s hair, drilling holes with hiseyes.

Rafe fetched his bottle of lube and a condom from his toiletries bag, which was of course buried at the bottom of the suitcase. He didn’t care if his clothes got wrinkled. He’d deal with that back inAmerica.