Chills rush up my spine as my eyes water.
“Guess it’s easy to see when it’s something you understand,” he says.
Now he’s seeing more than he should, and I consider turning away, but I just keep looking into his eyes, allowing him to see this part of me. There’s so much there, things right on the tip of my tongue, things I want to share with him the way he shared with me. But there’s a lump in my throat, something within me fighting to keep it all tucked away, fearing that if I let it out, the screaming will never stop.
“But you don’t hide yours by being bright,” he adds.
“No one tries to get too close if you don’t let them.” There’s a hollow sensation in my chest, this empty void where the screaming reverberates.
“Sounds awfully lonely.”
“Is it less lonely for you? Or do you just have more people around?”
He breaks eye contact, his gaze drifting as he considers my point, surely knowing I’m right.
“Don’t look away from me.” I say it as a command, surprising even myself, and when he turns back, there’s vulnerability in his expression, totally honest, not hiding behind his charm or that friendly smile, letting me see the real him, fully. I place my hand against his cheek, and he leans into my touch, still maintaining eye contact. “I feel less lonely with you,” I confess.
“I—”
I’m not sure if he was about to agree or ask a question, but before I know it, my mouth is on his, our jaws clashing as I shove him back against the wall. He goes willingly.
“I need…you…Dax,” I manage between kisses. “Right now.”
“I need—”
I don’t let him finish, relentlessly kissing him, not allowing him to get the words out. I’m too selfish, too greedy. I was the one who brought this out in him, and now it’s my job to help take his suffering away.
It’s a messy wrestling match, us versus my clothes, as I get my shirt off and my pants to my ankles before spinning him around. I wrap my hand around his throat, tugging him back for a kiss before saying, “I want to be inside you. I want to come in you, but I don’t want anything between us this time.”
“I’m on PrEP. Tested all negatives the day I went to that appointment.”
His words reassure me he wants the same thing.
“Same, two weeks ago. You want some lube?”
“I want that dick in menow,” he says urgently.
“You’re starting to sound like the bossy one.”
As he glances back at me, that playful smirk returns.
“Yeah, you like it a little rough?”
“I don’t mind rougher,” he says.
I tighten my hold on his throat, keeping it confined to the side rather than applying pressure to his windpipe. “You liked when it stung a bit last time, but now you want it to sting more. Because you trust me, don’t you? Trust that I’ll be careful? That I’ll make sure it only hurts as much as you want it to.”
“Fuck, Miles, don’t torture me anymore. Just fuck me.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I spit in my palm, slathering it across my dick before giving two more. It doesn’t feel like nearly enough.
“That’s good,” he insists.
“You need me that bad?”
“Yes,” he admits, and though I’ve always known I’m good at fucking, he makes me feel like a sex god.
With my free hand, I push the head against his hole, becoming even harder when I can tell how damn tight he is. “Gonna get a nice grip on me, aren’t you?”
