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But it wasn’t just his looks. It was all of him. Every part of him. Everything that made him Elliot. And there was no one else in the world like Elliot. I knew that for certain.

***

All the sugar did definitely make us go a little crazy. We ate all the candy, and we got through half of the enormous slushie before admitting defeat.

Elliot asked me to show him the color of my tongue. When I stuck it out, seeing its unnatural purple hue from the corner of my eye, he laughed and did the same, before darting in to lick my tongue. I laughed and chased him back to his seat to do the same, which devolved into long minutes of hot, wet kissing that had my dick aching again.

I was about to ask if I could finally, finally suck him off when he shoved me back into my seat, shoulders to the door behind me, and ripped open my fly. Before I could utter a word, he was ducking down and sucking me into his mouth with a long, low moan. I gasped, hands flying up to card through his hair. My hips twitched against the car seat—just once, but he moaned like he’d enjoyed it, so I did it again. Then again.

“El-Elliot,” I panted, my eyes repeatedly trying to roll back from the mind-melting pleasure of hot, wet suction around my cock. But I didn’t want to miss a second of this, so I forced myself to keep my eyes on him. To witness the way his mouth engulfed my cock with every downward bob of his head, and how pouty his lips became when they dragged back up my length so he could circle the weeping tip with his glistening pink tongue.

I came shockingly fast, the visual far too much. Elliot moaned hungrily, his throat working as he swallowed every hard jet I pumped into his mouth and stroked my shaft in squeezing pulls to try and milk even more out of me. My eyes finally did roll back in my skull from the sensation, which made me shudder hard in pleasure until it turned into flinches when my cock grew hypersensitive.

Elliot gave my tip a final, almost loving lick before lifting his head. I didn’t let him get too far, though, already cupping his jaw and tugging his mouth to mine. I could taste myself on his tongue, just like that first night at work. It made fresh arousal flare in my belly and rush through my veins. I was sated, but I also wasn’t, because I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of him. Ever.

“Let me,” I pleaded against his lips, releasing his face to reach down and fumble with his fly.

Elliot shuddered, fingers curling into my sweatshirt and clutching it tight. I could feel how much he was shaking. He let out a strangled sound, almost as if he was wrestling internally with something. With himself, for some reason.

Before I could pull his cock out, he jerked back and started clambering gracelessly between the seats. “L-let’s get into the back.”

I followed him eagerly, and by the time I settled on the back seat beside him, he’d already tugged off one of his boots and shoved his jeans and underwear down to get them off one leg.

A choked sound left me when he leaned back against the door behind him and let his knees fall open wide, one pressing against the back seat, while his booted foot, with his jeans still bunched around the ankle, landed heavily in the footwell beside us.

I was never going to recover from this. From the sight of Elliot in nothing but a cropped tank that had fallen haphazardly to one side of his chest, revealing a pale little nipple. The ring in his navel glinted with every hectic breath he took. His bare limbs were long and lean, almost coltish, and his face was staggeringly handsome, all sharp edges and shadowed hollows and strong features. Dark, arched brows; impossibly icy blue eyes; and full, pale lips that were parted around his shallow breaths.

His hand was wrapped around his hard cock, long fingers gripping tight, twitching restlessly. He tilted it upright so it was pointing directly at the roof of the car, showing me its full slender length, every vein winding around the shaft, the glossy crown emerging from his retracted foreskin. Below it, his balls were already pulled tight, high and firm at the base of his shaft. And just beneath, I could see the curve of his ass cheeks, and the vulnerable dip between them.

My breathing was loud and ragged in the still, dark quiet of the car. Lust was boiling in my veins, rendering me momentarily paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I was literally too turned on to move, and I’d come just moments ago. But the sight of him like this was too much.

“I want you to watch me,” he breathed, the blue of his eyes so pale they looked almost solid white in the dim light inside the car. “Watch what you do to me, Ricky.”

I shuddered out an unsteady breath at the idea of it, but still croaked, “I want to touch you, Elliot.”

“Just… just kiss me,” he panted. “Please, Ricky.”

I groaned, leaning over to nuzzle his face. “Can’t I—”

He cut me off by grabbing my nape and yanking my head down the rest of the way to slam our mouths together. His tongue swept inside, feverish and hot, its strokes against mine uncoordinated as he began moving his fist up and down his cock between us. I felt it, felt the motion, and groaned into his mouth. I wanted to be the one doing it, but I knew there’d be more opportunities after this, and I didn’t think I was actually capable of putting an end to the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life, even if it would’ve meant finally feeling Elliot’s cock in my hand for the first time.

This was the next best thing, though. He was so turned on, by me, that he was desperately stroking himself while fucking my mouth with his tongue. His ass kept rising off the car seat in jerky little thrusts, hips straining to fuck his cock through his fist. His movements grew more frantic, faster. The car windows began to steam up again as our bodies and fast, panting breaths filled the car with heat.

Elliot was officially mindless with pleasure, with the need to come, with the arousal that had built up in him from sucking my dick, and it was the most glorious thing I’d ever witnessed.

Our mouths were fused together, tongues gliding and thrusting and winding, until abruptly, he broke the kiss with a sharp, shaky inhale.

“Oh god,” he moaned, features tightening as he craned his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I-I can’t—I’m trying to—”

With a guttural groan, he grabbed my hand and sucked my middle finger into his hot mouth. The sensation shot straight to my dick, making it tingle and start to fill again.

“I’m trying to be good, Ricky,” he told me in a wrecked voice the moment he pulled my spit-drenched finger free.

“H-huh?” A very tiny part of my brain took a second or two to try and make sense of that, to decipher what he meant, but it gave up very quickly when I looked back down at his naked body and loosed a shuddering breath.

“I-I’m—I was trying to—oh fuck.” He made a desperate sound in his throat, almost a sob, and shook his head, as if he’d just lost some battle against himself. “I can’t—I—” Still clutching my hand, he hurriedly guided it down between our bodies. Then between his legs.

“O-oh my god,” I stammered shakily when I realized what he wanted.