The sound of bare feet tapping on the floor approached.
“I'm not mad.” Jared grinned, big and bright, snatching his mug. “You can look all you want.”
Dylan’s dick punched the front of his underwear when Jared took a sip of his coffee, their eyes deadlocked in a searing blaze.
Fuck me twice.
“We’re gonna be late.” Dylan stole his mug back and gulped the rest of his coffee before rushing into his bedroom. He needed to stay away from temptation.
Dylan had always prided himself on his ability to stay composed in any situation. But today he didn’t seem able to get a grip on his stupid ass.
It wasn’t the first time Jared had made a comment that sounded like straight up flirting instead of a joke. It’d started out casually. He would flash Dylan a sly grin across the living room when he was making dinner for the two of them, or drop a suggestive comment while playing video games. It wasn’t super blatant all the time, but over the last few days, he was just tossing them out there with no shame, the playful twinkle in his eyes driving Dylan insane.
Still, he didn’t act on his desires.
He wasn’t timid, and their attraction to each other was an open secret. A growing ball of fire barely contained by the tension breeding in the air. However, there was something... something that made Dylan hesitant.
Part of him was afraid that Jared wasn’t emotionally ready to fuck someone new. Hell, it had been six years of loyalty devoted to one person alone. Even when you wanted to move on, that shit could topple you. It was a process, and Dylan didn’t want to disrupt any of the steps Jared needed to take. Yet, deep down, he felt there was more to it.
Since Jared had moved in, Dylan hadn’t fucked around at all. And maybe that was part of the issue.
Although he never stuck for too long with the same person, Dylan had a pretty active sex life for a single dude. But it seemed disrespectful to bring people home to bang when his roomie was kind of in mourning. Even if it had been just a few weeks, it was so bad, Dylan could almost count the minutes that had passed since he’d last tasted either pussy or dick. And seeing Jared’s happily hanging between his legs that morning as he stepped out of the shower had only made those urges worse.
Annoyed, Dylan rubbed a hand over his head like that would erase the inappropriate thoughts he’d been having all morning. Just then, Penny approached their workstation, a bright smile curling her lips.
“Look what I have…” she said. “Jared?” she called, shaking a bag of gummy strawberries. “I got the gummies filled with jelly like I promised you.”
If it wasn’t for how uncomfortable he was right now, with his cock half-mast inside a pair of jeans that felt two sizes too small, Dylan would have chuckled at that.
Jared was all about clean eating, but he lived for that shit. Always said that gummies were at the top of his food pyramid. At least the one in a parallel reality where he got to eat whatever he liked, regardless of how unhealthy it was. Pizza was a close second.
Still, he never refused when Penny supplied him with any type of sweets.
“Mate.” Dylan shoved his shoulder gently.
Jared was one of those programmers who, once in the zone, especially if he was listening to music, disconnected from the world. Seriously, he had tunnel vision and anything outside of his screen didn’t exist.
“Huh?” he mumbled, raising his messy blond head as he paused the song blasting through his earphones.
Penny shook the bag again.
“Gimme.” Jared outstretched his arms, flexing and relaxing his fingers like a kid.
Penny handed him the bag with a giggle. “You do really love sweets.”
“I could survive on it for the rest of my life.”
“And you’d die before turning thirty.” Cora grinned, eyes fixed on whatever monster she was creating.
“That’d be a sweet death.” Jared shrugged, humming as he opened the bag. “Oh, man... these are so good.”
“Told you.” Her permanent smile grew. “Anyway, when are we going for lunch?”
“If you wanted to go for lunch, you shouldn’t have given him that. He’s not going to eat now.” Dylan tried to snatch the bag from Jared.
“Hey! Get your mitts off my goods.”
“You’re not going to have room for anything else and then complain that you’re bloated.”
