I didn’t need them to like me.
I didn’t need anything from them… or from anyone else.
One person and one person only actually mattered to me, and that was Noah. And now? Well, fuck. Now that was true on a whole new level. I mean, I’d always looked out for him, taken care of him, wanted what was best for him… but knowing just how completely he was actually minenow? That shit woke up some seriously possessive caveman-style instincts in me, the kind that made me want to beat my chest, fight off all poachers, and take down anyone and everyone who eventhoughtabout fucking with my boy.
Regardless of whatever crap his parentals pulled today, the important thing was that he’d be coming back tomeafter they got done with him. And if it turned out their little visit had been rough on him the way I couldn’t stop fucking obsessing about, well, guess that just meant that I’d have to find a suitable way to take care of what was mine, now wouldn’t it?
Which, just sayin’, wasnotgoing to be a problem.
“Quit slacking, Gage,” Joe suddenly called out, hanging from his harness at the top of the wall to my left. “You just come to sight see today, or what?”
I flipped him off, then pulled my phone out and shot off a quick text to Noah, because somehow I’d worked myself into a motherfucking tizzy, worrying about him like he reallywasmy property, and before I could put that aside and take it out on the wall, I just had to know—
G: Everything going good at breakfast, bro?
I waited a second, since usually he tripped all over himself to answer me the minute I messaged him… but this time, nope.
I frowned. We were seriously going to have to have words about that back in the room later. My fault, maybe, since I hadn’t had a lot of time to make it clear that, as his master, I needed to know he was okay at all times.
But on the other hand, maybe itwasn’tmy fault, because that fact wasn’t some new wearing-a-slave-collar-for-me requirement. I always needed to know Noah was okay, otherwise it fucked with my head. The only reason I didn’t normally worry about him like this was because I was almost alwayswithhim, so if a problem came up, I was there to prevent, correct, or retaliate for it.
Still no reply.
I frowned even harder. This business of ignoring my texts when I was concerned about how his parentals were treating him was gonna require a… consequence. And fuck if that idea didn’t distract me from all this mother-hen worrying of mine for a second, making my cock try to swell up and embarrass me, all while I was wearing a climbing harness that framed my junk like it was the goddamn Mona Lisa.
I smirked. I mean… it wasn’t a bad comparison. Because my cock? Definitely a priceless work of art. Nothing to be embarrassed abouthere, thank you very much.
I instinctively glanced over at the yoga-mat girls, and yep. I wasn’t the only one aware of the fact. They were definitely appreciators of fine art. They were practically licking their lips, eyeing the anaconda like it was candy… which, it should be noted, did way fucking less for me than it had when my boy had done the same thing the night before.
“I’d tap that,” Peter said none too quietly as he came down off the wall and eyed my fan club.
I smirked. I mean, pretty sure he’d already tried… but I didn’talwayshave to be a dick, so—
“Go for it, bro,” I said, reaching down to adjust myself even though I knew the whole gym would assume the Moan-a He-sa I was sporting was for the titty twins over there, instead of due to certain thoughts of the consequences my absentee slave-slash-best-friend was earning, and how fucking hot it was going to be later when I had him begging for my cum again.
I hadn’t really had a chance yet to do any in-depth thinking about all the ways I could give it to him, but—
Well, hold up now.Thatwasn’t true. I’d definitely given the matter some thought over the years—some hard, deep and unprotected thought; some thrusting-through-my-fist-like-a-motherfucking-beast, wearing-off-the-calluses-on-my-right-hand thought—but that had all been before last night, back when my go-to slave fantasy had involved a lush set of tits and a tight, wet pussy, so that was different.
But… was it?
Not gonna lie, I had zero experience with ass sex, but guys fucked guys, too, yeah? That was a thing, obviously, or else the Alt Right wouldn’t spend so much time getting such massive boners about it.
Okay then, I’d just have to hit up Google later and do a little research into the mechanics of the gay agenda, because the more I thought about my dick inside Noah’s… well, inside hisanything… the less chicks like those yoga-mat ones Peter was angling for excited it at all. In fact, just like with that other one—Talia, who’d apparently had to bag herself a professor to make up for the tragedy of losing access to my snake—now that I’d staked my claim on Noah, collared him and marked him and told him he was mine, it seemed like, as far as my cock was concerned, anyone who wasn’t him was already forgotten.
6
Noah
I swallowed hard,the eggs Benedict my parents had ordered for me without asking—even though I’d alwayshatedrunny egg yolks and had told them that a million times—feeling like a lump of lead in my throat.
“Oh, honey,” my mom said, patting my hand. “No need to look like it’s the end of the world. We know you tried—”
“And we know you cansucceed,” my dad cut in, waving his fork around as he talked. “You just need a better support system, son. This is our fault, not yours. We should have known that between being so far from home—” three hours away, “—and allowing you to room with Gage, we weren’t exactly whipping up a recipe for academic success.”
My head shot up. “Failing my classes isn’tGage’sfault,” I blurted, then realized what I’d said and backtracked as quick as I could. “I mean, I’m not… notfailing.” Last semester had definitely come close, but even if I wasn’t off to a great start with this one, either, it was too early toassume. “I… it’s only February… I can still get my grades up, and—”
“Noah,” Mom interrupted, giving me a look that made the single bite of nasty, gooey, runny egg I’d managed to get down before they’d dropped the “this is your last semester here because you’re a hot mess and a total loser and can’t handle college life on your own” bombshell on me congeal into a ball of vomit-coated barbed wire in my stomach. “Sometimes, part of growing up is facing the truth about your limitations. You’ve never been a very focused person—”
