He leaned in, watching as Lane’s breath caught, and for the first time, Trevor thought,he really means it; he likes me the most. “I want you to do whatyouwant,” he murmured.
Trevor hadn’t realized how much Lane had been holding back, not until he kissed him then, ferociously, passion pouring into Trevor’s mouth.
His head hit the back of the door and he groaned deeply. His fingertips dug into Lane’s scalp, sifting his hair through them as Lane sank to his knees, right fucking there, like he couldn’t wait a moment longer to get Trevor’s cock in his mouth.
Pulled his jeans down impatiently like Trevor should never be wearing clothes. Didn’t even bother teasing, just swallowed Trevor’s dick right down.
Trevor had thought maybe he’d mentally exaggerated how good Lane was at this, but if anything, that memory paled in comparison to this one.
His mouth was so hot and tight around him, tongue stroking the underside, making Trevor sweat, making him moan.
But it wasn’t just Trevor moaning—Lane was doing it too, he realized—the sounds deep in his throat.
Fingers brushed up against his balls and then slipped further back, Lane using his shoulder to push Trevor’s legs further apart, giving him better access.
Trevor’s hips stuttered as Lane stroked behind his balls, almost where he wanted him. But had he even known he wanted that? He wasn’t sure. But suddenly he was craving it. Not just Lane’s fingers but his cock, too.
Pushing into him, remaking him from the inside out. A whole new realm of pleasure that he’d never explored.
“Fuck,” Trevor cried out. “I want—”
Lane’s gaze flicked up to meet Trevor’s, and his dick slipped out from his mouth. “Yes?” he asked.
“Yes.” The word came out more like a plea than the answer to a question.
Lane’s gaze darkened even more and he leaned in, sucking a mark into the cut of Trevor’s hip, making him twitch.
Then his mouth was back on his cock and his fingers were stroking that place again, just a tease, not even trying to penetrate him. But it didn’t matter. Even the thought of it, the flirtation of Lane’s fingers there, made him crazy. Made him writhe with pleasure as Lane sucked him harder.
Trevor didn’t want it to end—he wanted more,desperately. But before he could even tell himself firmly to hang on, to make the dirty pleasure of it last and last andlast, he was right there on the edge, caught between Lane’s mouth and that gently stroking finger.
“Fuck, yes, I’m gonna—”
Lane nodded in encouragement, his eyes gleaming with intent, and Trevor couldn’t hold back a moment longer. He fell right off the edge, his orgasm swamping him.
Even with all his realizations coalescing into one incredible experience, it still was rocking Trevor’s world that the sex wasthatgood. That he could come that hard. Could feel like he was just floating away on a fucking cloud, after.
Lane groaned roughly and a second later he was on his feet again, pushing Trevor back against the door with the ferocity of his kiss. Trevor would’ve sworn if it was physically possible, he’d have gotten hard again just from tasting himself on Lane’s tongue.
When Lane pushed his hips into Trevor’s, he didn’t need another invitation. He pushed down Lane’s sweatpants, stuck his fingers into his own mouth, swirling them around and imagining, for a split second, that it was Lane’s cock, and then pulled them out, reaching for it and giving it a firm stroke.
“Fuck, fuck,” Lane cried out and it wasn’t exactly the world’s best handjob but apparently it didn’t matterhowuncoordinated Trevor was or how inexperienced, he was shuddering out his orgasm less than a minute later, face pressed into Trevor’s neck.
It was a good thing Trevor wasn’t a slouch in the gym, because he was definitely the one holding them both up after that.
Slowly, they untangled.
Lane looked at him for a moment before turning away, mumbling something about cleaning up, even though it was Trevor’s hand and wrist and sweatshirt that were covered in Lane’s come.
But Trevor had begun to figure out Lane’s tells, and he knew what Lane was doing now.
What he’d done earlier, when he’d kissed him.
So when Lane went to his bathroom, Trevor yanked up his jeans with his clean hand and followed.
“I heard you, you know,” Trevor said, not wasting any time flicking on one of the sinks so he could wash up.
Then he pulled off his sweatshirt. And why not, his T-shirt too.
