“I never want to leave this movie theater,” Harper insisted, forcing a guttural chuckle of approval from Banks as he doubled down on pleasuring his new lover, stroking him more erotically, more tenderly, more achingly than ever before.
“Me either, stud, but the movie’s about to end and, from the looks of it, so are you.”
As if to prove it, or perhaps manifest it, Banks smothered Harper’s useless protests with his mouth, literally holding him hostage as he stroked and jerked until he could feel the release pending in his throbbing balls and feel it in the garbled gasps beneath his clenched lips.
He let Harper up for air just as he came, gushing across his chest and heaving belly as Banks milked him to the last drop, feeling the last futile pulses slither from his swollen tip and dance across his fingers, like warm icing across a slice of cake.As if finishing poor Harper off in more ways than one, he lifted the fingers to his lips and licked them clean, one by one, watching his lover’s eyes widen as he sat there, splayed out on his chair, shirt hiked up above his chest, nipples hard, belly splattered with his own goo, cock growing soft atop the crotch of his yanked down pants.
“Fucking hell,” Harper grunted, finally blinking himself back to life and tugging his shirt down even as he tugged up his pants.“Come here, you big, sexy ass—”
As if on cue, voices silenced Harper in a millisecond.Not the voices from the movie screen, loud and dramatic and bombastic, but human voices, in real life, a different kind of light spilling in just to the left of the front row as Banks and Harper hastened to sit up straight, like good little schoolboys, just as a gaggle of drunken coeds stumbled in, high heels, miniskirts and tube tops galore.
They hushed each other, giggled loud enough to drown out the movie right above them and stumbled into the front row, smelling of weed and bubble gum and stale beer and cheap perfume and fresh cut grass and the last week of summer, all rolled into one.
If they had noticed Harper and Banks sitting in the back row, stiff as boards and blushing as red as the fake blood from the movie, they hadn’t acknowledged them.Nor did they when, glancing quickly at each other with an understanding nod, both boys gathered up their discarded snacks, stood awkwardly and stumbled down the stairs, rushing from the theater before any of them could decipher what had been happening only moments earlier.
Chapter Twelve
Harper
“What about you?”
Banks glanced over, both of them out of breath and flushed with color after bolting from the theater and halfway across campus before they bothered to stop, glancing behind them every step of the way as if the sex police might be in hot pursuit.
Banks was hunched over, hands on his knees, gulping for air.“What about me?”
Harper could still feel the gloss and sheen of his spunk, glazing over and drying across his smooth, shaven mound.“I mean, you weren’t kidding when you said you were good at making people happy.I’d like to ...make you happy, too.”
Banks stood, stretching slightly and glancing this way and that, as if someone might overhear.Harper followed his gaze, seeing the same deserted campus he’d crossed only a few hours earlier, struggling to find a place to ditch his damp and sticky boxer briefs, ruined with desire as his fantasies got the best of him.
They stood face to face at last, Banks blushing and looking chagrined.“Would you think I’m the biggest loser in the world if I said I already ...was happy?”
Harper struggled to understand.“What?You mean before our date?I should have done that, too.That way I wouldn’t have blown the minute you started jerking me off in the dark.Jesus, why didn’t I think of that?”
“No, Harper,” Banks growled, grabbing his hand again and tugging Harper along the darkened path that led, eventually, to their dorm buildings.The sounds of revelry could be heard in the distance.In the other direction, fortunately, down along Greek Row where the event of the season was currently playing itself out, one keg stand and body shot at a time.
Before them, beside them, all around them, quiet stretched out like the long, silken night ahead.Long after Harper had caught up and was following along, Banks still clung to his hand, warm and moist, the longest anyone—man or woman, stranger or friend, family or lover—had ever held his hand.
