Damon’s arms loosened their hold. Elliot could have scrambled away, but he didn’t.
They stayed where they were. Damon’s legs wrapped around Elliot’s waist, and his hardening cock pressed into Elliot’s back.
Elliot was panting, his chest moving in rapid pulses. “Damon?”
“Yeah,” he croaked. His throat was tight. The room seemed hotter.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Damon’s face heated, and his palms began sweating.
“It happens, man,” Elliot said, trying to be nonchalant, but there was a hitch in his breath.
Damon wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, glancing over Elliot’s shoulder to his lap, to the growing bulge pressing against Elliot’s mesh shorts.
Something warm twisted inside of him. A slow, prideful smirk took over Damon’s face. His chest puffed out a little.
Ha! Yes! Elliotwassexually attracted to him. He laid awake at night, annoyed that Elliot claimed Damon wasn’t his type, but now he had proof that was a lie.
And…Damon had the proof that he might not be so straight after all.
He inhaled a ragged breath and blew it out slow. Elliot shivered a little.
Damon rested his hands on Elliot’s thighs, near his groin. He could still play all of this off as an accident. One big accident.
But Damon didn’t want that. Had any of it really been an accident? Any of it at all? From the moment he’d met him, Damon knew Elliot was special.
Damon slowly rubbed his hands up and down Elliot’s thighs, brushing closer and closer to the tented area, waiting for Elliot to stop him, to get up and leave.
He didn’t.
Damon’s hand slid over Elliot’s hard length. Elliot sucked in a breath as Damon thumbed the head through his shorts.
“Do you remember when we jerked off together at the beach?” Damon asked.
“Yeah,” Elliot said, voice rough as sandpaper.
“I think about that all the time.”
“Having a threesome?”
“Yes. No. Sorta.” Damon’s hand traveled lower, gently cupping Elliot’s balls. He found he wasn’t repulsed by this at all. Touching a guy’s balls.
Damon was the opposite of repulsed. He wanted to explore Elliot’s body. Wanted to see him.
“I think about the noises you made,” Damon said, slipping his hand under Elliot’s shirt. “About how fast you came. How fast I came. How it’s the only thing I jerk off to anymore.”
Elliot’s throat worked with an audible gulp.
Damon caressed the soft hair of Elliot’s happy trail, giving Elliot a chance to stop him before Damon continued lower.
“Damon,” he said, low and breathy.
He closed his eyes as Elliot’s voice traveled up his spine. “Just like that. At the beach. You said my name just like that.”
“What are you doing?” Elliot hissed through his teeth.
Damon flattened his palm over Elliot’s stomach. He ran his nose through the straight blonde hair above his ear. He smelled so good, so unlike a girl’s fruity floralness. Elliot smelled like the familiar piney musk that he’d come to associate with his best friend, with both safety and excitement. “I want to make you come.”
