“Austen,” I warn, pressing my hands flat to the floor. “I’m coming.”
He moans again, sucking even harder and I come so hard I think I’m going to pass out. He wastes no time crawling into my lap and kissing me, hand roaming all over my chest while mine find his hips. We keep that up for some time, until we have to stop and breathe because I feel lightheaded.
Austen gets up, offering me his hand and I get to my feet. We look at the mess of clothes on the floor, then at each other, then burst into laughter. I dig out my briefs and put them on while he goes somewhere, returning a moment later in a pair of sweats and offering me another pair. But before he hands them over, he tugs on my briefs.
“Take these off.” I raise a brow. “Sweats are so much sexier when I can see your dick bouncing around.”
“Fuck,” I growl out, kicking out of my underwear as quickly as I can before putting the sweats on. “So…” I continue with a grin. “Part three?”
Austen just grins, taking my hand. “Let me show you around.”
He gives me the grand tour, which doesn’t take long. It’s not a big place, but it doesn’t need to be. There’s an open concept living room and kitchen, with enough space for a small dining table. Then there is a bathroom and his bedroom, which is a decent size. I see things all over that scream Austen like his framed jerseys and various sketch pads stuffed into nearly every corner..
“This place is so nice, Austen,” I say when we make it back to the living room and sit on the couch.
“It’s okay. Nothing compared to your palace.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t even like that place.”
“Then why do you live there?”
“I don’t even know anymore. It’s funny, because that’s actually why I was at the festival.”
Austen chuckles. “Sorry to break it to you, Cam, but you can’t buy places to live at festivals.”
I give him a playful shove as he flips through movies on the TV.
“I’ve been going to the local festivals and galleries to buy artwork, hoping it’ll make the place feel more like home.”
“Did it work?” he asks, looking at me seriously.
“No. Not even a little.”
He gives me an understanding smile. “I know the feeling. Trying so hard to make something feel right, but no matter how much energy you put into it, it doesn’t work.”
I have a feeling he isn’t just talking about an apartment…
“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out a whisper. “Exactly like that.” I reach for his hand, linking our fingers. He looks down at them, then at me. “This okay?” I ask.
He smiles. “Of course.”
He keeps browsing through the movies with his free hand, nothing about him telling me that he’s uncomfortable here, but I feel like there’s an elephant in the room and I don’t think Austen’s the one who will bring it up.
“We should talk,” I say. He turns toward me, his face falling slightly.
“That’s probably a good idea.” He puts the remote down. “We going to need alcohol for this?”
I huff out a laugh. “Maybe we should wait. You know what happens when we drink.”
“Are you saying we won’t be fucking again?” He raises a brow. I don’t miss the hint of disappointment in his voice.
“I’m just saying we should talk first.”
“Okay, fine,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He sits to face me more. “Honestly, though, I think talking is good.”
I nod. “You know what I’m going to say, but I’m saying it anyway.” He nods. “I’m sorry for what happened. I kept something from you, something so important, and I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now and honestly, I knew it then. I was so stuck on not seeing you hurt. I was trying to protect you from it, and also… I was being selfish.”
“Selfish how?”
