“They’re pretty tall, I guess,” he said, taking a hasty sip of his water just so that he’d have something to do with his hands.
“He’s got pictures,” Annie said. She was an evil traitor.
“Really?” Coco grabbed Dylan’s arm. “Can we see?”
Dylan hesitated, but there was a part of him that desperately wanted to show off just how handsome August and Ryker were. He couldn’t help but feel flattered that someone like them was interested in someone like him.
He took out his phone and angled the screen away from Coco, scrolling through his camera roll to find a picture of August and Ryker that didn’t feature the two men shamelessly showing off their bulges.
“Don’t scroll,” he warned, handing Coco his phone. Caleb leaned in to look as well, and both of them let out an appreciative noise of approval.
“Nice,” Coco said, zooming in on their faces. “How old are they?”
“In their thirties,” Dylan said, suddenly self-conscious about the age gap. He looked at the picture, the strange hollow feeling in his stomach getting worse. The picture was a selfie that August had taken of him and Ryker in a mirror, showing them both dressed for work. Ryker wore a suit that looked like it cost more than Dylan spent on rent in a year, while August was in a white shirt and tight black chinos that made his thighs look fantastic.
He wished they were here now so that he could sneak off to the bathroom with them and suck their cocks.
The sudden thought surprised him, mostly because the urge was so intense. He blushed, glancing around to see if anyone at the table had caught him looking particularly horny, and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
Their waitress came up to the table and asked if they were ready to order. Dylan was happy for the distraction, hoping that now that his unusual dating situation had been addressed, the group would move on and talk about other things during their meal.
He did not get his wish. As soon as they’d all put in their orders, Coco and Caleb started up a barrage of questions about August and Ryker. Dylan didn’t have an answer for most of them – he didn’t know anything more about werewolf culture than the next random human – and for most of the ones he did have an answer for, he didn’t want to answer.
The final straw came halfway through the meal when Coco, who’d had four glasses of wine, asked him, “Is it true that they have weird dicks?”
“Coco,” Caleb hissed, kicking her foot under the table.
“What?” Coco whined. “I read a blog that said they have knots on the base of their dicks. You know, like d-”
“That’s enough,” Annie said, interrupting Coco with a stern voice. “You know that Dylan isn’t comfortable talking about that kind of thing. Stop being rude.”
Coco’s eyes widened and then narrowed in offense. “I’m not being rude. It’s a perfectly normal question.”
“It’s a little invasive,” Caleb mumbled.
Dylan said nothing, worried that his expression was giving away the fact that August and Ryker did in fact have knots, and that he’d had both of them inside of him.
Luckily, Annie and Coco were having a stare-off, both of them completely oblivious to Dylan and Caleb sitting next to them.
“Fine, we’ll talk about something else. Dylan, how are things going at the 3D printing lab?”
“They’re good,” Dylan said, struggling to remember what he’d been working on the previous day. “We’re testing a new composite material.”
Even as he spoke, Dylan couldn’t stop thinking about August and Ryker’s knots. They pushed to the front of his mind, pulsating and thick, making his hole clench and his whole body long for the sensation of being plugged up and filled.
Annie leaned in, nudging him. “You’re drooling.”
The words were spoken softly enough that only Dylan could hear them. He quickly wiped his chin, the back of his hand coming away wet with spit.
He’d never been so embarrassed.
“What about you?” he asked, hoping that Coco and Caleb hadn’t noticed. “How are things in the bio-chem lab?”
To his relief, the question set Coco off on a long spiel about what she was working on and the problems she was having with her thesis advisor. She talked for a good twenty minutes, after which Annie – his saint and guarding angel – shifted the focus to Caleb and how things were going at the office.
Nobody asked Dylan any questions about werewolves for the rest of the meal, a fact for which he was infinitely grateful.
He still couldn’t stop thinking about getting fucked. The craving for sex was bizarre, and unlike anything Dylan had ever experienced.
