Z rushed down the stairs into the living room, still wrapped in his blankets, and I could tell by the way they fell on him that the little belly was hidden underneath. My mind went blank and unhelpfully replayed him coming, his cock spraying. I’d ruined that orgasm for him. Was he feeling ripped off? Unsatisfied? Would he jerk off again tonight?Fuck, what is wrong with me?
Unlike the last time I’d seen something that involved him and nudity, this was different. Before I’d seen some random jerk’s ass as he…. Well, Z had probably liked it. But this time….
He was just fucking pretty, no matter who you were. Anyone would agree. I tried to ignore my cock plumping. My wood throbbed.
Z ran a hand through his dark curls, eyes going wide as he stared at our ruined table. “Oh no.” He winced in my direction, and I shrugged. The longer I stared at him, the harder I got, and the more I had no idea what to say. I felt strangely like I’d witnessed some sort of crazy miracle tonight, one which I wasn’t ever supposed to see because I was only mortal. I shivered and pointed stupidly to the table, where he instantly dropped his focus.
“Uh… your candle.”
“Urgh,” he grumbled and ducked his head.
My cock gave an aroused pulse and I had no idea what to do about it. What if he noticed? Would he be horrified? Would he stop letting me hold him when he was upset? It wasn’t like I wanted to fuck him, because….
My mind spun out and smashed into tiny pieces. I was really hard right now and thinking wasn’t happening. I went to the door and put my shoes on as fast as I could. “I’m going to go get something to clean up this mess,” I called over my shoulder without looking back. My palm was so sweaty I could barely turn the knob to leave.
In a daze, I made it all the way to Lowe’s—which I usually enjoyed browsing because I loved doing all the shit that had to happen before Z could paint the townhouse whatever obnoxious color happened to snag him—before I had some sort of odd full-body spasm. I stopped in a parking spot and turned off the car. I hadn’t bothered putting up the top earlier and a cool night breeze tickled my skin. I sat panting for air and stared at the familiar blue and white sign. Then I rested my head back and gazed at the bright dots of stars. I loved doing things for Z. I loved Z as my best friend.
And right now I was fucking hard because of him. Groaning, I curled forward and rested my forehead on the steering wheel while I tried to make sense of this shit. Z was pretty like girls were pretty—that was all. Soft skin, a nice stomach that wasn’t too toned or muscled, thighs that were edible. These were facts. But I’d kind of liked seeing him come, too. Wouldn’t hate the idea of seeing it again. There wasn’t a single mistakable thing about his dick—it was all male.
“Fuck.” I rested my chin on the steering wheel. My cock gave a hard pulse and I laid my hand on it, pushing my palm along the rigid shaft. I rubbed my feet on the floor of the car, then made myself stop as pleasure coiled in my groin. What the fuck was I doing?
And why the hell was Z wearing that little tummy?The small belly was realistic and made me think of elf porn I’d seen once. I’d been scrolling through the good ol’ internet, jerking off to whatever images crossed my screen, and suddenly I’d stumbled on a drawing of a pregnant girl. It had excited me because there was plenty of exposed everything, so I’d clicked on it. There had been a series, and I’d been happily on my way to shooting my wad, when suddenly I’d found myself whacking it to a cute little guy elf. His curls had been blond, while Z’s are brown, and he’d been tall and willowy, while Z’s shorter… but the drawing had sort of reminded me of him. I let out a long, guilty breath.
I hadn’t switched back to the chicks before I came, either.
But elves were fantasy, and that one time didn’t mean anything much… right?
When I’d googled to see if other straight guys occasionally jerked off to things that weren’t really… female, I’d found a mixture of “You’re gay, queen, yaaaas!” and “Fantasy doesn’t mean anything!”
And it wasn’t like men ever turned me on.
I bit my lip and glared down at my cock. Z had been so fucking perfect coming that he practically wasn’t real, so maybe that was my problem. He’d looked too much like those fake pictures my brain knew didn’t exist.
Even to me, I was reaching. I pushed my palm to my cock until it pinched in a bad way and waited things out. I growled under my breath. It took me about fifteen minutes to be able to get out of the goddamned car without embarrassing myself. But then I was standing there staring stupidly at the store, still not sure what I was doing here when a very naked, clearly upset Z was at the townhouse we shared.
“Fuck, he’s going to be so mad at me for walking in on him.” I groaned and leaned against the car’s hood, rubbing at my face. The belly thing seemed pretty unique. It occurred to me that the little tummy might be what Z had shared with Serge today, and I was fucking mad at that asshole all over again. Z had glowed while coming wearing the belly. He’d obviously been super into it. I kicked the pavement. I wasn’t gay. I didn’t like men. There was something… more flexible between me and Z, and always had been, but that didn’t mean anything. One thing I did know was that Serge was fucking stupid if what I’d seen was the reason he’d broken up with Z.
And Wayne, the mystery guy Nicky had dug up, would probably get to see Z looking like that, legs splayed. It wouldn’t be a toy inside that delicate little hole I’d seen, either. If Wayne was older, he probably wasn’t as stupid.
He’d keep Z.
Anger twisted in my stomach, and I stood there for too long trying to convince myself I didn’t need to sit down and panic. What would I do then? Z wouldn’t need me anymore. I sniffed and made myself walk toward the front entrance of the store.
None of this mattered anyway. I’d keep Z safe, and maybe if Wayne upset him, I’d make myself feel better by actually fucking punching the guy. I’d be goddamned happy for Z if Wayne was a great man who gave him everything he ever wanted. Because I knew Z, and if he’d already agreed to go somewhere with someone, he would do it no matter what I said, because he didn’t lie to people.
It took me forever to get my head together, and one of the employees stocking a display of screwdrivers asked me twice if I needed help before I picked up a paint scraper, even though I already had one at home, some polyurethane, and some sandpaper. I wasted another half hour wandering before I paid and headed home.
The front door wasn’t locked, and when I pushed it open, I almost died. The unmistakable sound of Zayden sobbing, far worse than I’d ever heard him in the past, had me dumping my bag on the sofa and flying up the stairs. The sounds weren’t coming from his room, but mine. He was on my bed still wrapped up in his blankets, and I got the horrible feeling he’d been in that spot for a while, maybe since I’d left. His shoulders heaved, he trembled, and his face was a ruddy red.
“What? Why? It was an old table. I’m not that mad about it. I just worried because what if I hadn’t been here? What’s wrong?” All my earlier confusion flew out of my mind as I did the only thing I could. I hurried over and scooped him up into my arms before I sat down and settled him on my lap.
“Lots of stuff,” he whispered and sniffed up some snot. His voice was raspy. Wincing, I grabbed some tissues from my nightstand and passed them to him.
He didn’t look at me as he blew his nose. “Nice. Right beside the bed, huh? You can’t even pretend?” he asked with a pained grin. He still didn’t meet my eyes.
“You’re the only person who ever comes in here, and I’m pretty sure you know I jerk off.” It was supposed to be a joke, but he glanced at me with wide eyes, and heat pelted through my body. “I’m sorry I walked in on you.” My voice dropped to a husky note and I cleared my throat. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. The belly was new.” I glanced down at where it was hidden by blankets, and he hunched forward. I was surprised he still had it on, but then I’d never seen him as upset as he was when I’d walked in.
“I thought you were grossed out. Maybe you wouldn’t be back… like everyone else.”
