Too late. I grab him, flipping him over as I run my fingers over his sides, under his armpits and into that same sensitive spot at his elbow. He’s always been ticklish, but it’s not something I really took advantage of after middle school. Tonight, though...
“Stop,” he says, squirming and laughing as he tries to get away.
“You sure?” I ask. I add my mouth back into the equation, kissing between his nipples while my fingers keep up their exploration.
“Yes. No. Oh god, Bear.”
The name feels good. Right. Zed is a friend. A teammate. Bear is someone else. Someone more.
We still, breathing hard as we lie face to face. Austin arranges his expression into something I haven’t seen before.
“This is enough,” he says, brushing slow circles over my thigh. It’s not tickling, exactly. More like a desire to stay connected. “If this is all we do tonight, I’m okay with that.”
Unfinished blow jobs and tickle fights? I can do way better than that.
“And if I were someone else?” I ask. “If you’d come back here with someone from the bar? What would you do then?”
His fingers still. I don’t push. We’re not great at doing things slowly, but if that’s what he wants tonight, I will do my best to go along with it. Might jerk off in the bathroom later, but I’ll behave.
Still, I nearly weep with relief as Austin clears his throat before he says, “I’d get whoever it was to fuck me. Maybe more than once.”
I nod, my body getting hot all over again at the idea of Austin riding my dick. Of the sounds he’ll make and the sensation of him sliding around me.
“So we’ll do that.”
He blinks a few times, mouth falling slightly open.
“We don’t have to.”
But I want to. So much, in fact. Now that he’s lying here, splayed out and willing, it seems impossible we’ve never done this before. He’s so beautiful. Toned muscles undulate under his skin. Also, there’s a tattoo of an orange cat with laser beams for eyes splayed out over one hip. He got it for his eighteenthbirthday and I gave him so much shit for it, but now I can’t help the way my mouth curls up at the corner as I study it. A tiny helpless city smoulders beneath the cat’s attack and a helicopter circles overhead. Absurd chaos, like Austin himself.
Leaving him on the bed is torture, but I need reinforcements. I dig through the kit on the bathroom sink until I find what I’m looking for. When I get back, Austin’s taken my spot on the headboard, lazily stroking himself as he watches me approach.
I hold up the condom between two fingers.
“I’m on PrEP, and I know you are too, but I’m not doing this without some backup.”
His mouth quirks up. We tell each other everything. If there was even a fraction of a chance Austin had any kind of STI, he’d have said so. But I’ve got rules, and best friend or not, some rules can’t be broken.
Our gazes lock for a moment. Austin licks his lips and swallows hard, before he gets up on his knees, presenting his ass and giving it a saucy wiggle in my direction.
“Is this okay?” he asks, sounding like a child eager to please. But there’s nothing childish about him. Not the muscles or the tattoo or the thick penis that hangs between his legs. He’s all man and he’s in my bed.
Time to get what we came here for.
The small bottle of lube makes an embarrassing spattering sound as I squeeze it over his hole. Austin giggles.
“Excuse you,” he says. His laughter makes his ass shake and the lube dribbles over his taint and balls. I bite my lip to keep from laughing too. This is supposed to be a big deal. Serious.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me you still laugh at fart jokes. What are you? Eight?”
“Fart jokes are hilarious at every age. They’re—” Whatever he was about to say next is cut off on a gasp as I slide a finger inside him. His groan crackles all the way to my balls.How have we never done this before? Why did we wait for breathless confessions? As I work him open, moving quickly to add a second finger, he presses his mouth into the mattress and tangles his fingers into his hair.
He’s so responsive. Every touch, every thrust of my fingers has him moaning. I’d could say it’s because I know him. Know what he likes. Or that I’m a master of the delicate art of anal exploration. The truth is, there’s a strong chance he can feel the way my hand is shaking, even from inside his ass, and a little vibration is never bad. My heart still hammers so hard it’s loud in my ears, and my throat is dry. When I push in a third finger, his whole body rolls with pleasure, before he takes over, fucking himself against my hand. “Jesus, Ze—Bear,” he says, sounding breathy. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I’ll come like this.”
I would be happy with that. Everything that’s happened so far is even better than I could have imagined. But I told him we’d do it, and I want him to be happy too.
I smack his ass. I don’t even know if it’s something he likes, but hopefully the sting will distract him long enough for me to get the condom on. My fingers shake and slip as I fumble with the latex. These things are always such a pain. It takes me a second to slide it down.
