“Is that so?”
Owen nudges him back against the chosen tree. “Yes. I can listen to you talk all day, but only if you leave enough time for other mouth-related activities.” He leans his face forward for a kiss.
Will wraps his arms around Owen’s back and pulls him closer, feeling his erection caged in his jeans. “I can think of something else that is mouth-related.”
Owen smiles. “Like to whistle?”
“Sure. I’m going to whistle now.” He goes down on his knees and pulls out Owen’s pretty cock. It feels so nice between his fingers, and familiar by now. He licks it slowly, then takes it as deep as he can. The tip brushes against the back of his throat, but he has almost no gag reflex by now. Owen sighs and runs his fingers through Will’s hair so he can hold it.
For a second, Will is no longer in the forest but in the mayor’s house. He’s down on his knees in the bedroom upstairs, his hair grabbed by one of the guests so that he can fuck his mouth as hard as he wants.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asks. “You’re breathing fast.”
Will pulls back and shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Sorry.”
“We can do this later in a normal bed. I don’t want to be late to visit Julie.”
Will feels more grateful than Owen can realize. He rises to his feet. “Okay. I’ll make it up to you later.”
Owen narrows his eyes. “You don’t need to make it up to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Will nods, angry at himself for not doing a better job at blocking out his experiences in the mayor’s house. He can’t help but wonder if it’s even possible.
*
“I hope she likes me,” Owen says as they drive back totown.
“She already likes you.”
“I don’t mean as a librarian but as someone who can be good enough to date her brother.”
Will isn’t sure how to respond. In truth, he didn’t plan this meeting between Owen and Julie as well as he should have. It has gotten to a point where he mentioned Owen to his sister one too many times, making her bug him about bringing him over to meet her properly. He figured that no harm could come out of it, but now he’s not sure how to present Owen to her.
They haven’t spoken about how they define what had started between them, and it feels too soon to have that talk.
“She thinks we’re good friends,” Will says.
“Oh. That’s cool.”
“But she’ll figure out there’s more going on. I’m fine with that.”
Owen turns to look at him. “You sure?”
“Yes. Are you… also fine with that?”
“Of course. I have a crazy crush on all of my good friends.”
Will laughs. “A crazy crush, huh?”
“I just call it like it is.”
They reach the hospice, and Owen insists on buying flowers. “Should I also buy chocolate?”
“She’d love it, but the sugar isn’t great for her.”
“Dark chocolate?”
“That should work.”
