“I have room in me for this and a lot more, babe.” Jared bit down on one of the strawberries, flashing him a heated look filled with the most devious promises.
Without thinking twice, Dylan fell into his game. “What else do you have space for in that tight, lean body of yours?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?”
Penny and Cora laughed and joked about the latent tension between Dad and Daddy, but their words were mere sounds that Dylan’s brain didn’t register. Lost in the depths of Jared’s eyes, the world around them disappeared.
It had probably only been a few seconds, but to him it felt like an eternity. Dylan dove so deep into the filthiness connecting their minds that he was ready to explode. He wanted Jared and wanted him now. His lips on his. On his pecs. His stomach. Caressing his ass, forcing the tight rim of muscles open with his tongue.
When he finally snapped out of it, Penny and Cora were gone, Jared still hungrily staring at him.
“W—”
“They’ve already gone out for lunch. Do you wanna—”
Unable to take it anymore, Dylan excused himself, mumbling—gritting, really—that he needed to freshen up.
Normally he wouldn’t have said it out loud, didn’t need to expose himself even more, but his brain was glitching. He couldn’t control his mouth or anything in his body anymore.
He made his way to the bathroom, hoping the cool tiled room and the space separating him from Jared would provide some relief for his aching dick.
As soon as he entered the bathroom, making sure no one was in there, Dylan released a much needed groan. He was frustrated beyond imagination. Being the bigger person and the good guy sucked balls. Why? Why did he always have to be thedecent one, considerate of everyone else’s emotions? If his dick died and came back as a ghost, it would certainly haunt him until the end of time for putting it through this torture.
Dylan splashed cold water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror. “Get it together, you asshat.”
Minutes passed, but his body didn’t seem to want to cooperate. The thoughts and fantasies of what he would do to Jared if given the opportunity were not cutting him a break.
Clenching his fists on the counter, Dylan tucked his head between his arms, letting out a huff. Anyone who saw him right now would think he was having a panic attack or some shit like that. And they wouldn’t be wrong. Like a strange outer entity had enveloped him, all these feelings and urges were taking over his last remnants of self-control.
He wasn’t sure if he would make it through this day without painting the inside of his boxers. Fucking shit. How had it gotten to this point?
Just as he was about to return to his desk, the bathroom door swung open. And there, standing in the doorway, was Jared.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan husked.
“What, is the bathroom now private property belonging only to you?” Jared arched a brow, approaching him.
It was tantalizing. He was tantalizing. His usually calm and graceful greyhound energy turned darker, making him look like a fucking wolf on the hunt.
“So, you gonna tell me what’s going on with you? You seem a little... agitated today,” he teased.
Dylan scoffed, not liking feeling like the prey. “I think you know what’s going on.”
“I wanna hear you say it.” Jared stopped barely a metre away from him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath he took, pupils dilating in time.
Dylan straightened a bit. Even doing that, he wasn’t as tall as Jared, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to make himselfappear bigger to lull the alarm blaring inside his head that had put his entire body on guard.
“Since that night... I can’t stop thinking about…” He didn’t finish the sentence, afraid to sound like a vulgar whore. “Fuck, I’m not doing this with you.”
“Why not?” Jared seemed hurt.
“Because you’re a kid and—”
“I’m not a damn kid.” Jared scowled. “Is that all you’re scared about?”
“I’m not scared. It’s just—” Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re too different.” He looked Jared straight in the eye again. “You still need to have fun, lose your path, and make a ton of mistakes. And I’m way past the tragicomedy that life is at your age.”
“What if I don’t care about tomorrow? What if I just wanna do whatever I want without thinking about the consequences? What if I want you to be a mistake?”
