10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Chapter 20

Joey

It’s my internal clock that wakes me. A quick check of the lightly lit analog above my dresser confirms it’s early still, not even eight in the morning.

I glance down at my chest, where a rather warm Brad is using me as a pillow. He’s barely moved all night. Or, if he has, he came right back in, nestled in the crook of my arm, his cheek pressed against me, his hand settled atop my stomach.

He said he doesn’t sleep well, but he didn’t disturb me once. A good night for him, maybe?

I run my hand lightly over his shoulder, the feel of him tucked against me, all smooth skin and warm man, making my throat catch. It feels so… normal . Or what I want normal to be. Brad, here in my bed, or me in his. Waking up together. Being together, period.

People spend their entire lives searching for this. Trying to find the right person at the right time. To know I’ve found mine…my right person…without yet knowing if it’s the right time?

It’s terrifying.

I told Iggy it was worth the risk. And I still believe that. I do.

But I don’t know how I’d ever be able to let this man go.

When Brad shifts, I hold my breath, not sure whether or not I want him to wake and shatter this perfectly still moment. He murmurs something indistinct, his fingers skating over my skin before settling at the side of my ribs. Turning his face, he lets out a sigh. He’s lying almost entirely on his stomach, a position I’m not sure I could sleep in.

He seems to slip back under, and my tension unwinds, making me realize just how stiffly I’d been holding myself. Perhaps I’m still a little scared. Scared that Brad will wake up and realize exactly who he’s with, and that he’ll, what…freak out, maybe? Change his mind?

But he didn’t act any differently last night after our shower. After the shared orgasms that left me reeling. He was all smiles while we made dinner, ate on the couch, and played video games. And he came upstairs with me afterwards, far earlier than his usual bedtime, claiming the snuggles would be well worth it.

He’s initiated every step of this, hasn’t he? The first kiss. Admitting he felt something… more for me, even if he didn’t have a full grasp of what that meant. Asking to watch me touch myself and for him to do the same.

At this point, I don’t think the physical is going to scare him. Which means I need to start showing Brad what it is I want us to be. More than sex. More than…bros with benefits.

I need to show him what it would be like to be mine.

When Brad shifts again, making a more alert sound, I rub up and down his arm. He pulls in a breath, face nuzzling against me as he seems to come to consciousness.

“Comfy,” he mumbles, his voice sleep hoarse.

I huff a small laugh. “The bed or your pillow?”

“Both,” he says, giving the pec he’s not lying on a squeeze. My cock, already half-hard, stiffens when Brad starts to rub himself against me, an unconscious movement that has his erection dragging against my leg through the thin fabric of the sleep pants he borrowed. He stills as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. But then he turns his head to look down my body and says, “Oh, good. You’re up. Hi, Greg.”

My laugh this time is mostly breath as Brad skates his fingers down my bare stomach. My cock bucks, and he makes a soft, excited sound, as if the simple fact that he turns me on is astonishing to him.

“Can I?” he asks.

“Of course,” I say roughly.

He doesn’t slip his hand under the band of my boxer briefs. Instead, his fingers trail over the fabric, he himself scooting ever so slightly to see better. He’s still lying on my chest, still looking down, and it kills me not to see his face. But knowing he’s watching his hand as it smooths over the head of my cock is arousing in its own right. He glides his palm downward, grip loose, tracing the shape of me.

“God,” he says, squeezing a little before making a return trip upwards. “Something about…about holding your dick is like…” He lets out a breath. “Everyone has tells, you know? Signs of arousal. But this . There’s no mistaking this. And I’ve never been on this side of the equation before. With someone’s dick in my hand. I didn’t realize it’d make me feel so…”

The persistent up-and-down exploration of my cock makes it hard to think, but I manage to ask, “Makes you feel what?”

His lips ghost over my pec, a featherlight touch, his fingers tightening in a way that has my hips hitching and a groan reverberating out from my chest. He turns his face toward me, tongue swiping over my skin before bright green eyes flash upwards, meeting mine, startling in their intensity. “Powerful,” he answers.

My breath is shaky, my hand flexing on Brad’s arm as he shifts again, pushing himself all the way up. His hand never leaves my cock, stroking me through my briefs as he hovers above me, his hair a mess he does nothing to try and tame. He holds my gaze and lowers his lips to my chest, pausing. Waiting.

For direction, maybe? Waiting for me to beg?

“Suck me,” I request. Or maybe it’s a demand.

He grins—a playful thing that feels like a punch to my gut—before lowering the final half inch required to lick my nipple. His tongue rasps over me, soft and wet, just once. And then he takes me into his mouth.

My head falls back against my pillow. Not just because his lips are on me. His tongue, too. But because of the way he’s sucking me like he goddamn loves it. He lets go of my cock, taking my pec in hand, him groaning as his tongue rubs and his thumb rolls over my nipples in tandem. He pops free and shifts to the other side, taking that nipple into his mouth, his cock pressing against my hip as he sucks and ruts against me.

“Fuck,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. “Fuck, these are beautiful.”

My chuckle is hoarse. “I take it you’re a boob man?”

“They’re not boobs. I know that,” he answers, his short stubble bristling my skin as he lays kisses across my pecs. “But still, Joey. They’re fucking…” His words dissolve into a reedy sort of moan as he gets distracted, his hand like a hot brand traveling down my stomach. He leans back enough to watch his fingers trace over my skin, seemingly transfixed by every groove and bump he encounters. He runs a path over my Adonis belt, down and then up the V-shaped muscles. “Fuck. These, too. I’m happy to report your cum gutters are in perfect working order. Ten out of ten, would jizz on them again.”

“Glad you approve,” I manage, my stomach muscles jumping when Brad’s hand finds its way back to my cock. He squeezes me before giving me a couple near-desperate jerks through the fabric of my briefs.

“Why was that so hot?” he asks, me or himself, I’m not sure. “Seeing my cum on your skin. It was like…”

He trails off, and I have to move. I can’t lie still anymore. I grab the back of Brad’s thigh and tug his leg over me so that he’s straddling my lap. He lets out a surprised laugh, but it quickly shifts to a groan as I pull him down and grind up against him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes slipping shut.

“Can I try something?”

“Yeah, yep,” he husks.

Smoothing my hand under his waistband, I ease his sleep pants down over his ass and free his cock. Then I hastily push down my own underwear until they’re around my hips. Brad watches with wide eyes as I spit in my palm.

“What are you…”

I wrap my hand around our cocks, spreading the moisture and giving a squeeze. “Ride me, bub. Come on my stomach. Mark me up all you want.”

Brad mumbles another hearty fuck , his eyes feathering closed and then opening again as he shifts his hips, testing the movement. He settles into a rhythm easily, letting out little gasps, one after another, as he fucks into my fist, our cocks rubbing together.

“Why does that feel so— haa ,” he breathes, words aborted. “Why— ahh . I’ve never… fuck , that’s good. Why is that so good?”

Brad’s eyes are fixed on our cocks, at my fist wrapped around us, at the way he’s grinding against me in an approximation of fucking. His hands plant on my chest, and an electric shock zings from the point of contact straight down to my dick. I start stroking us harder, grabbing his hip and urging him on. The way his body is moving makes it all too easy to imagine he’s sinking onto my cock instead. It’s too much. Too…

“Joey,” Brad groans, fingers flexing against my pecs. “I need you to come. Need you to— need you.”

With a verbal shove that feels almost physical in its intensity, I fall blindingly over the edge, my cock pulsing in my fist, the rub of Brad’s dick against me making me feel as if I’m spiraling down a ravine. I’m weightless, for just a moment, caught in the quick snap of all-consuming pleasure that makes focusing on anything else an impossibility. There’s only the complete takeover of my senses and a single breadth in time where nothing else—not a single thing—exists except for this. Brad and me.

The fog clears just in time to register Brad’s excited moan as he swells in my hand. His cum lands on my stomach, his chest and abdominals heaving in and out as he works to catch his breath. A tremor wracks his body, motion followed by stillness like the tail end of a sigh.

I let go of our spent cocks, casing Brad’s face, not sure what I’m looking for. All I see is…happiness.

Brad lifts his hand slowly, cool air washing over my chest as he trails his pointer finger downwards. It takes me a minute to realize he’s not just rubbing our cum into my skin, but…

“Did you just spell out your name?” I check.

He makes a satisfied sound, patting the side of my stomach before hopping up with energy I’m not expecting. “I sure did. Now I need some coffee. Do you want any? I’ll start a pot. Hey, what time did you want to paint those boards today? Do you even have paint? If not, we can run to the hardware store after breakfast. Ooh . Dibs on asking for caulk. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Brad is nearly out the door, sleep pants pulled back up over his ass, when he spins and heads back my way.

“Forgot something,” he says, one knee on the bed as he leans over me. Hand clasping the side of my neck, he gives me a quick yet enthusiastic kiss. He smirks when he leans back, eyes on my stomach, a smug expression filling his face. Then he twists my nipple and practically jogs out the door. “ Gooood morning!”

I huff a laugh. And then another. My stomach tingles, our cum drying on my skin, the butterflies below the surface caused by the very same man who casually branded me after coming hotly across my abs.

For a guy who thought he was straight not a week ago, Brad sure has fallen into bed with me with an ease that’s surprising and yet…not.

After washing up, I find him in the kitchen, the pot of coffee already brewing. He’s humming, looking inside my fridge, dancing a little on the balls of his feet.

“You like bacon?” he asks, shuffling the contents of my fridge around. “Eggs? I assume so because you bought them, but you never know. Maybe you just like cracking the shells and sorting the yolks from the whites, not actually—Oh. Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, wrapping my arms around Brad’s stomach and giving his cheek a kiss. He’s still warm, smelling a bit like us even though I can tell he washed his hands.

“Standing cuddles?” he asks, closing the fridge door. “I can get on board with that.”

I snort. “I think it’s called a hug.”

“Oh. Heh. Right. I guess I’m just not used to facing away from the person I’m hugging. I’m usually the aggressor, you know?”

I turn my nose into his neck and laugh. “The aggressor?”

“Well, yeah. I tend to be more touchy-feely than my partners. A little clingier, I guess? So this?” He slips his arms back so he can grab my ass, giving me a little squeeze. “It’s nice. Very nice.”

“Anytime you want a hug,” I tell him seriously, “I’ll give you one. Be it six seconds long or sixty.”

He lets out a happy sigh, leaning back and giving me his weight. His voice, when he speaks, is quieter. “Thanks, Joey. It’s underrated, you know? Just…holding someone. Being held. People take for granted what such a simple form of contact can do. But I’ve always thought… Well, I think I might like it more than sex.”

“Really?” I ask, trying to keep the surprise from my voice.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. Orgasms are awesome. Orgasms with you? Really fucking awesome. Like, top notch, dude. And we’ve only scratched the tip.” There’s a pause. “The tip of the iceberg? That’s a thing, right? Anyways, my point is I really love painting your abs. But…”

I huff another laugh, and Brad moves his hands from my ass to my arms, covering them and turning his face toward me so I can see his profile.

“But orgasms don’t last. They just don’t. It’s all well and good to want someone’s body. To enjoy getting off with them. But wanting someone past that? Outside of that? Wanting to share a moment of connection? I think that’s pretty great.”

My breath leaves me softly, my eyes slipping shut as response after response flits through my head, each far too transparent to speak aloud. How do I tell this man he’s quite possibly the loveliest person I’ve ever met? That I admire him and respect him. That I want him to keep surprising me with his kindness and grace, just as much as I want to hear the rambling words that so frequently fall out of his mouth.

I want to know every single piece of him, top to bottom, inside and out. I want to spend my life learning who he is. Falling, again and again, in small swoops and in large ones.

“I think…” I take a breath and start again. “You said once that hugging releases endorphins that make people happy and calm. Since meeting you, I’ve been more calmly happy than I can remember being in a really long time. Maybe ever. You’re like a hug, Brad. Always. Whether or not we’re touching. So if this gives you even a fraction of what you’ve given to me, then yes. Anytime you want it…or need it…I’m here.”

Brad spins, and I loosen my hold, hands coming to rest on his back once he’s facing me. We’re nearly the same height, Brad just a touch shorter. It makes it easy to look into his eyes, to let him see what he wants from mine.

“Kissing,” he says. “That’s a benefit, right?”

“Big one,” I agree.

“Yeah, good.”

Brad’s lips are warm as they meet mine. They’re soft and sincere. And maybe he’s onto something about the importance of intimacy outside of sex. Because what Brad and I are building—what we have been from the start—feels stronger than any other connection I’ve had. It’s a foundation I could see holding us up for years, decades to come if we let it.

Assuming, when all is said and done, this home we’re crafting…is one Brad wants to keep.