“But you and Michael.”
Niall shakes his head. “No. Danny…no. It was always you. Michael was my friend. It’s always been you.”
It then all comes to me. How the relationship, no, friendship started between Niall and Michael. But how Michael made comments after a while that he never heard from Niall during the day anymore. That he always called later at night, when he could tell Niall was tired. Because of the time difference.
Because he was waiting for me to be around to also be on the FaceTime calls.
“But you never…”
Niall bends down and grabs his keys. “Because I was waiting for you to be here. To actually see you, to be around you. To really get to know you.” He reaches out and runs his hand down my arm. “To see if there was any way you could feel the same. But it felt wrong when you got here, to push for things, given—”
I wouldn’t let him finish that sentence. And the only way I knew how was to kiss him in the street.
To give him what he wanted. What I wanted.
Niall’s kisses are hungry, bordering on desperate. My hands begin to tug at his shirt, when he suddenly pulls away, out of breath. He looks at the apartment building. “Upstairs?”
I nod. “Upstairs.”
We crash through the door of his apartment, the knob smashing into the wall. I slam the door shut behind us, then immediately rip Niall’s shirt over his head. The moonlight coming through the windows accentuates his strong chest, the v-line of his hips. I kiss him hungrily, his stubble sure to leave marks on my face.
His hands grab the hem of my shirt and soon enough it joins his on the ground. Niall quickly rips off my belt, pushing my jeans to the floor, my hard dick peeking out of the top of my boxer briefs.
“Oh my god,” he says, pulling the band down, my dick now bouncing free. He looks at me. “Is this…is this alright?”
I nod, and he kisses my neck, running his tongue down my chest and the length of my torso. Using the patch of hair under my belly button as a guide until he takes me in his mouth. I moan audibly, using one hand to stabilize myself against the couch and the other to run my fingers through his hair.
Any concerns I may have had about the amount of alcohol I had to drink are quickly stomped out, as I can feel myself about to bust. “Niall, I’m close.”
He reaches his right hand behind me and, at the touch of his fingers, I lose all control. Niall doesn’t stop, takes it all in as I writhe against the couch.
“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling Niall to his feet. “Bedroom. Now.”
I push Niall onto his bed, yanking his jeans to the ground and his underwear coming down halfway in the process. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but he is thick and hard, the tip glistening.
Please God. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight. Do not choke on this.
I take him in my mouth, trying to concentrate. Alex always told me my head game was not his best, which was a bit defeating.
Focus.
I run the tips of my fingers along his stomach, up until I reach his chest. I take his nipple between my fingers and lightly tease it.
“Fuck,” Niall says, “you’re perfect. Keep going. I’m almost there.”
I take a deep breath and give it all I got. His ass lifts off the bed, driving him further down my throat. I reach my other hand under and play with his balls.
“Shit, I’m going to come.” I decide last second that I might not be able to take it, so I pull him out just as he erupts, ropes of cum spraying into the air and all over his stomach.
I fall on the bed next to him, out of breath. I reach my hand out, finding his and hold it in mine.
“I’m a fucking mess,” Niall says, laughing. Both of us break out into that deep, wheezing type of laugh.
“I got a bit of the spins if I’m being honest,” I respond, throwing a leg over the side of the bed and planting my foot on the floor.
“You’re just dickmatized.”
“Fucking awful.”
