“Nothing,” he lied, worried that August would want to start something if he admitted that he felt better. He wasn’t in the mood to get fucked. Then he immediately reversed course and blurted out, “Actually, I was testing to see if my butt still hurts, but it feels fine.”
Dylan didn’t want to get in the habit of lying to avoid sex. He needed to be comfortable setting boundaries and practicing saying no. Ryker, August and Stevewantedhim to be comfortable setting boundaries and saying no.
Unexpectedly, August did not take his words as an invitation to seduce him. He ruffled Dylan’s hair with a fond crinkling of the skin around his eyes, leaned over and kissed his cheek, and simply said, “Good. I don’t like it when you’re in pain.” He then swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and pulled on his boxer briefs, getting up and putting on his jeans with a dopey smile on his face.
He looked far too awake for someone who had been asleep just five minutes ago.
Dylan wrinkled his nose, staring at August as he pulled on a Henley and a sweater. He felt robbed of his chance to stand up for himself and set a sexual boundary.
“What?” August asked, fixing his sweater into place by reaching inside and adjusting the Henley.
“Nothing,” Dylan said, leaning back against the headboard. He wasn’t actually upset – that would be ridiculous – but he’d been so proud of himself that he was going to resist August’s frankly ridiculous charm and say no to getting fucked for once.
“Then what’s with the face?”
“It’s nothing,” Dylan insisted, blushing. There was no way he could tell August that he was disappointed he hadn’t gotten to reject his advances.
“Did you want more than a kiss on the cheek?” August grinned, crawling onto the bed and advancing on Dylan like a prowling wolf. He put his hands on either side of Dylan’s lap and leaned in so that he could brush his lips over his mouth. He traced Dylan’s lip with the tip of his tongue, gently probing inside, and then bit down gently on his lower lip. “Is this what you wanted?”
Dylan moaned, and August licked into his mouth with an aggressive swipe of his tongue. Dylan grabbed onto the front of his sweater, clinging to the knitted fabric and leaning his head back as he let August loom over him and lick into his mouth. When August finally pulled away, Dylan was panting, and it took him a few seconds to realize that he needed to let go of August’s shirt.
“Better?” August asked, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips.
Dylan nodded, and though it annoyed him, he knew that if August were to ask him to roll over and present his ass, in that moment he would do it, no questions asked.
“Good.” August jumped off the bed and sat down to put on his socks. “I’m starving. Are you going to come and have breakfast?” He finished pulling on his socks and rose to his feet. “Or I could bring you something in bed?”
Long legs encased in tight jeans, his knitted sweater hugging his pecs and wide shoulders, August looked comfortable and cozy, but also like Dylan wanted to climb him like a tree.
“I’ll come with you,” Dylan said, pushing the covers aside and getting out of bed. He put on a fresh set of underwear and some jeans, thankful that Ryker and August had thought to bring a bag of his clothes and toiletries with them to Alaska.
“What kind of party will it be?” he asked, walking with August out of the bedroom. He was imagining balloons and potluck style food, but something told him that that wasn’t what Steve’s pack had planned.
“No idea,” August said, draping his arm over the back of Dylan’s shoulders and pulling him in under his arm. “I guess we’ll find out.”
The kitchen was empty, and so August and Dylan made their way to the living room. They found Ryker sitting on the couch, a plate stacked with roast beef sandwiches on his lap and the TV set to the weather channel.
He was dressed similarly to August, wearing jeans and a knitted sweater, though his sweater sat much looser on his body than August’s.
“Good morning,” Ryker said, taking his feet off the coffee table and muting the TV. “Do you guys want a sandwich? I have enough to share.”
“Sure,” August said. “Did you make coffee?”
Ryker shook his head.
“I’ll go make some. Dylan, do you want anything?”
“I’ll have some coffee, if you’re making it,” Dylan said, walking over and taking a seat next to Ryker.
“Me too,” Ryker said, handing Dylan a sandwich loaded up with roast beef, lettuce and tomato.
“So where’s Steve?” Dylan asked, taking a bite of his sandwich and trying to hold it so that he didn’t spill slices of tomato all over his lap.
“I’m not sure,” Ryker said. “He was gone when I woke up. I was going to go look for him if he hadn’t come back by the time I finished eating.”
“Maybe he went to see his brothers?” Dylan suggested, taking another bite.
“That could be it.” Ryker licked a smear of mayo off his finger and looked him up and down, assessing him. “How are you feeling this morning?”
