FIVE
JACKSON
I’m fucking pissed. I’m at Rave with Lucy and there are dozens of gorgeous men flirting with me, rubbing up against me on the dance floor, offering to buy me drinks or take me into the bathroom in the back and give me a good time. And while I would normally be all over that, my dick isn’t even the tiniest bit interested in any of them because of him. Curious2002 , who I still don’t know by name and who hasn’t left my mind for a single second since last night. I didn’t sleep a wink, and it’s taken everything in me not to message him, asking to meet up again.
Last night was the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’ve never left a hookup feeling my chest ache the way it did when I walked out of his apartment. But those are the exact type of feelings I am trying to avoid, which is why I can’t go back.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” Lucy says as she moseys over to where I’m standing at the bar with a drink in my hand that I’ve barely touched.
“Nothing,” I lie. “Just tired, I think.”
“You wanna go?” A pretty red head comes up and takes her hand just then.
“Dance with me,” she says, and Lucy flushes and grins.
I smile. “I think I will but you should definitely stay. Text me when you leave.”
“Okay,” she says, letting the girl drag her to the dance floor. “If you’re sure?”
I nod and shoo her away before setting my drink down on the bar and heading out into the night. I’m not getting anything accomplished here anyway, so I might as well go back home and see if I can get some homework done. Maybe work on my lines for the play. I’ve got the memorization part down by now, but I need to work on the actual acting part. Putting the emotion and feeling into my performance.
We’re finished with blocking the different scenes, knowing how to move around the set, knowing where to enter and exit from, where to stand in relation to the other actors on stage. We still get prompted when we forget our lines, but this is the last week for that, too, and then we’re on our own.
I text a couple of my fellow cast members to see if any of them are up for running lines with me. If not, I can do it by myself, but it helps to play off of someone. And my roommates might be willing to help me, but they aren’t actors in the slightest, though they do find it humorous to listen to me saying my lines to myself in my room, and every once in a while they’ll shout something back at me in response and then start cackling. They think they’re hilarious.
Fortunately the two cast members playing Janet and Brad say they’re available, so I tell them to head to my apartment.
We spend about an hour practicing together, giving each other tips, prompting each other when we forget our lines, and laughing when we mess up, and then they head home.
I try to think of anything but Curious2002 when I’m in bed that night, so naturally he’s the only thing on my mind when I finally drift to sleep.
A few days later, Lucy and I are standing outside the door to Rory’s new apartment. We showed up unannounced to hang out with him and his new roommate. We Facetimed once and we’ve been texting but we haven’t really spent much time together or gotten to know the guy he’s living with, and we want to check up on him.
Since he’s not answering the door and neither is Parker, we assume they’re not home, so I take out my phone and text Rory.
Me: So Lucy and I want to know when we’re going to be invited over to hang at your new place and get better acquainted with Mr. Gorgeous McSweetie pants.
Rory: You can come anytime you want. You know that. Except right now. I’m not home.
Me: Yes, we know. We’ve been standing outside your apartment for five minutes.
Rory: Omg! Why?
That’s when I see Parker coming up the stairs, lugging his backpack. He spots us and grins.
Me: Oh, wait, I see him. He’s coming up the stairs. We’ll just hang out with him until you get here. Smile emoji. Kissy face emoji. Devil emoji.
Rory: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes! Be nice!
Me: No rush. Winky face emoji
“Hey, Jackson, right?” Parker says when he reaches the door.
“Yeah, hi.” I shake his hand.
“I’m Lucy,” Lucy tells him.
“You guys here to see Rory?” he asks as he unlocks the door.
“Yeah, and to get to know you a little bit,” Lucy tells him as he gestures for us to go inside.
“That’s so sweet of you both. Freckles is lucky to have friends like you.”
Lucy and I exchange a knowing look at the nickname for Rory, and Parker closes the door and sets his backpack down. When he takes off his jacket I see the T-shirt he’s wearing. It has a barbell on it and says, “Good things come to those who weight.” I chuckle and tell him I like it, and he beams.
Lucy hands Parker the plate of brownies she brought and he looks at her like it’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done, thanking her profusely.
“They’re dairy, gluten and egg free so Rory can have them,” she says, and his grin widens.
“Aww, I’m liking you guys a lot already,” he says. “Is he on his way?”
“Yeah, said he’d be here soon,” I say as we take our coats off and hang them up, then follow him into the kitchen. We each grab a brownie and nibble on them, and then Parker opens the pantry and takes out a bunch of different snacks.
“Let’s hang out in the living room,” he says, and we join him. He’s telling us about his classes and sharing some super lame but impossible not to laugh at phys ed jokes. We’re cackling at his latest one: What did the protein shake say to his crush? I’m whey into you – when Rory bursts in the door.
“I’m here!” he shouts, and Parker turns, beaming.
“Hey, freckles!” he cheers, and I see Rory’s cheeks go pink, so of course I have to mouth freckles at him and watch as he flushes an even deeper shade of red. “Come sit and join us. Your friends are awesome, by the way.”
We goof off for a bit and then end up playing a game of Pictionary, Rory and Parker against me and Lucy. And since Rory is an art major they kick our asses, but we have a lot of fun just sucking at it and laughing like crazy. It’s easy to see how much Parker cares for Rory, and it’s clear that while there is attraction there, there’s a friendship blossoming between them, too.
When we leave a few hours later, we hug and kiss Rory at the door, and apologize for not sharing our concerns about his crummy ex sooner. I know it will take some time for him to get Zach out of his head, but he’s already doing so much better, and I know Parker has a lot to do with that.
“Thank you,” he says, and he’s smiling when we say goodnight.
The following week as I’m scrolling through Grindr on my way to evening rehearsal in the hopes of finding someone to hook up with afterwards, I get a notification that I have a new message from Curious2002 .
Don’t read it , I tell myself, and keep scrolling. Don’t read it . I fucking know better. I really should just block him so I don’t have to fucking worry about it, but I’m not that smart.
I’m also weak and pathetic and a masochist, so of course I open the message. And fucking swallow my tongue when I see he’s sent me a very NSFW video of him fucking himself with the dildo I saw in his nightstand. Holy hell. Seeing that incredible ass again, that gorgeous pucker being filled, is bringing back all the amazing sensations from that night.
He’s going slow and languid, drawing it out, legs spreading further and further, and I watch as his dick gets harder and precum leaks out. The caption reads, It’s good, but it’s nothing compared to your cock. Sure you don’t want another round?
Of course the same dick that hasn’t been able to get it up all week looking at a ton of other gorgeous guys is suddenly very interested in this. Damn it.
I should get rid of it. I will get rid of it.
Later.
The video ends before he comes, and I’m now sporting a painfully wicked boner.
Asshole.
I don’t respond, because at least I have enough self-control for that, and silence my phone, shoving it in my pocket and willing my hard on to deflate before I pull out my airpods and enter the auditorium.
Twenty minutes later we’re working on the scenes where Dr. Frank-N-Furter sneaks into Janet and Brad’s rooms disguised as each other and seduces them. I’m fucking furious when I keep picturing that blond-haired blue-eyed asshole underneath me instead of focusing on the person who’s actually there, and saying my fucking lines. I keep screwing up my performance, or lack thereof, because I’m missing my cues, missing my marks, saying my lines incorrectly. He’s got me all worked up and I want to strangle him for it.
If I don’t get my act together, pun intended, I’m going to ruin this play and I will not let that happen. It’s my dream role and I won’t let my fellow cast and crew members down. They’ve all worked way too hard to have me screw it up.
When our director tells us to take five because I’ve spaced out yet again and missed my line, I sigh. Brad, or rather Greg, the guy playing Brad, gives me a look that tells me to get it together because he doesn’t want to be stuck here all night.
When we walk off the stage the director, Dr. Miller, takes me aside.
“I’m worried about you, Jackson,” she tells me. “You haven’t been yourself at the last couple practices. Is everything okay?”
I sigh. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m really sorry. I’m going to do better.”
She looks at me with sympathy and I hate it. “It’s a big part. Maybe it’s too stressful for you? You look tired, hon. I can always have your understudy step in if —”
I shake my head. God, no, she can’t take this role away from me. “No, please, I swear I can do this. I want this part more than anything. I’m good, I promise. I’ll get more sleep. Please.”
She’s right though. I am tired. Rory and Lucy keep mentioning that, too, along with the fact that I apparently keep spacing out. But I can’t tell them what’s going on. They’d just tell me to reach out to the guy I can’t stop thinking about, and I can’t do that. They wouldn’t understand. As far as they know I’m just the guy who likes variety and sleeping with a different partner every night. What they don’t know is why, and that what I really want more than anything, is one person who’s head over heels for me. But I learned that wasn’t a realistic expectation a while ago.
“Look, you’re pretty, but you’re not dating material.”
“I’ve been seeing someone else, and we’re getting serious so I have to end things with us. ”
“The sex is great, but you’re not really the guy people date. You’re the guy they fuck until they find someone they want to date.”
And I’m not foolish enough to think anything has changed.
She seems hesitant but nods. “Show me you can do this, Jackson. I gave you this part for a reason, and I want to see you succeed. But I have to consider everyone else, too. Get up there and prove to me that I didn’t make a mistake.”
I nod, and swallow. “Yes, Ma’am.”
That night I’m fuming when I get home. I managed to do better in rehearsal after I got the shit scared out of me that I was going to lose this role, so as long as I can keep my head on straight I should be okay. But I’m fucking pissed at him for sending me that video, and even more pissed at myself for watching it, and enjoying it.
I most certainly do not watch the second video he sent me of himself coming with the dildo inside him, his hole clamping down on it and his head thrown back as his thighs quake, moaning the way he did with me, his spunk spilling over those mouth watering abs.
I most certainly do not jerk off to it, and I most certainly do not have the most incredible and mind numbing orgasm of my life doing so.
Because I fucking know better.
Four days later it’s the night of the Halloween party at one of the frat houses near campus, and I am going to go and enjoy myself; dance, probably get drunk, and forget all about Curious2002 . I’m going to get fucking laid, too, even if it’s just to spite him, because goddamn it, he is not the only guy out there and it’s time my dick remembered that.
PRESTON
“Any updates?” Mom asks as I’m standing in the bathroom adding the finishing touches to my pirate costume. I’ve got the black shirt and pants, knee high boots, red sash, and head scarf, and Chris was amazing and helped me do some fancy eye makeup so I look even more badass.
“Nothing to report,” I tell her. I know what she’s asking even though she’s not coming out and saying it. She wants to know if anything ever came of my attraction to the guy at the coffee shop. But I’m not ready to divulge anything yet. She’s been asking for updates almost every time we talk. I keep being vague, and I know it’s driving her crazy. I decide to give her something because if I don’t the poor thing might just die from curiosity.
“Since I know you’re asking about the guy in the coffee shop, we’ve talked, but I’m still figuring things out. If there’s anything more to report I will tell you.”
“Oh, all right,” she says. I know she means well. She just wants to know what’s going on in my life and for me to be happy.
“I gotta go and finish getting ready for the Halloween party,” I tell her. “Say hi to Dad and Paris for me.”
“I will,” she promises. “Have fun and be safe. Love you lots.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
“You ready?” I hear as soon as I end the call and set my phone down on the counter. I turn to see Chris. He’s dressed as an Egyptian Pharaoh and looks awesome. He’s been the best friend a guy could ask for over the last few weeks, helping me with all my sexual awakening shit, listening to me mope because Theaterslut never did respond to the sexy videos I sent him asking if he wanted to meet up again. Maybe he didn’t think they were sexy? Maybe he didn’t enjoy our night as much as I did? Having sex with him was seriously the most incredible experience of my life, but maybe I’m getting ahead of myself and it’s just because it’s new, and being with another guy would be equally amazing? I don’t know but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him even more since we fucked. And I haven’t done anything but pleasure myself since then because the idea of being with anyone else just doesn’t sit right with me.
I know that’s going to be a problem if he really doesn't want to see me again, so I’ll have to get over him at some point, but he’s a difficult person to forget.
When I asked Chris how he moves on from a guy he likes but doesn’t like him the same way, he gave me a small smile and told me he was still trying to figure that one out himself.
Maybe the fact that I haven’t seen him since that night is a sign that we don’t belong together.
I look at myself in the mirror one final time and nod, and we make our way to the Halloween party.
The frat house is two stories with a winding staircase leading up to the second floor. The ground floor is packed with sweaty bodies, talking, laughing and drinking. Loud upbeat music resounds throughout the house as people grind up against each other on the makeshift dance floor, which is just the living room with the furniture pushed aside. It smells like alcohol, sweat, and weed.
Chris and I make our way through the crowd, greeting classmates and friends as we head for the kitchen and some drinks. We run into Blake and his girlfriend, Sarah, and talk with them for a minute before we head to the backyard where the bonfire is.
There’s people roasting marshmallows and making s’mores, and we join them. I’m amazed at all the incredible costumes. There’s nurses, witches, a few more pirates, some animals, zombies, ghosts, super heroes, and more. I spot the pretty girl I’ve seen with Theaterslut and she looks amazing dressed as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy . I almost don’t recognize her with the straight hair and green skin.
Chris finishes one s'more and tells me he’s heading back inside to dance. I follow him a bit later. I don’t think I want to dance but I could use another drink and some warmth. The fire is nice but it’s still pretty nippy outside.
I’m heading back into the living area with my second drink when I stop dead in my tracks. Holy shit, it’s him. And fuck, he looks good. Theaterslut is a few feet away, chatting with a small blonde girl dressed as Harley Quinn, and a tall dark haired guy that’s dressed as a cop. His costume is so much better than either of theirs, though.
He’s dressed in nothing but a bright green speedo and huge iridescent fairy wings, his gorgeous pale skin on full display. He has glitter in his raven hair and around his eyes, and holy fuck, my cock is rallying to life in my rather tight pirate pants right now. His rings are missing, but his earrings are still there, making his costume that much sexier, and his nose ring is in place, along with that sexy as fuck nipple piercing. God, why is that so hot?
A shiver goes through me when I remember what his tongue ring felt like in my mouth and against my asshole. He smiles, and then laughs as I stare at him, and I fucking swoon. God, he’s sexy. I never expected his voice to be as deep as it is, but just listening to him talk turns me on, and that laugh is even sexier.
Damn, if I don’t stop staring at him I’m going to have a situation in my pants pretty soon.
“Go say hi,” I hear and turn to see Chris next to me.
I swallow. “What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“Then he won’t, but at least you tried. He doesn’t have to do anything he doesn't want to do. If he tells you he really doesn’t want to see you again, at least you’ll know and you can move on, instead of just hoping that he’ll message you someday, right?”
Fuck it. Chris is right. I take one more swig of my drink and set it down, before I gather my courage and make my way over to him. Maybe I’m being stupid, but if he doesn't want to talk to me, or even see me again, he can say so to my face. At least then I’ll know where I stand, and I can’t waste this opportunity.
He’s just pressed a kiss to the girl’s cheek and she and the guy she was with are walking away when I reach him. With more confidence than I feel, I step up behind him and whisper in his ear. “Hey, Tinkerbell.”
He turns and I grin. God, he’s even more beautiful close up. Those vivid blue eyes are mesmerizing. “If you’re Tinkerbell does that make me Captain Hook?”
He smirks at me. “Smooth.”
“Thank you.” I lean in closer. “Any chance I can get you to change your mind about that one time only thing? My ass misses your cock a whole hell of a lot. If you saw the videos I sent you know nothing compares.”
A shiver runs through him but he doesn’t speak.
“Come on, Tinkerbell,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his ear. “Give me some of that pixie dust.”
He laughs, though it sounds like he’s trying not to, and then he’s gripping my hand and pulling me towards the stairs.
When we get up to the second floor he drags me down the hall until we reach the bathroom. He reaches in and flicks the light on, then shoves me inside and steps in after me, closing the door behind him. As soon as he turns around he’s pushing me against the door and holding me there, his forearm pressed against my chest as he glares at me. Holy hell, why is that so hot? He looks furious, and I have no idea why. But I might come just from him staring at me like that.
“Do you have any idea how fucking pissed I am at you?” he snarls, his face inches from mine.
My eyes widen. “Me? What did I do? I haven’t even seen you for weeks.”
“You sent those fucking videos.”
I grin. “So you did watch them.”
He snarls again and steps closer. “You’re fucking driving me insane.” His hand grips my chin now and his leg slots between mine. I moan when his thigh rubs against my dick. I can’t help it. I rut against him, my hands pressed to the door behind me.
“I can’t fucking sleep because of you,” he says as he lets me use him. “I’m fucking up in rehearsal, I can’t concentrate in class.”
I moan and grip his hips, thrusting into him harder. “What are you gonna do about it?” I pant.
He growls and then slams his lips into mine, keeping his grip on my chin and moving his leg up and down, adding to the insane friction against my cock as he devours me. Oh, shit. He pushes his way inside my mouth and sucks on my tongue. I moan against him, letting him take what he wants. Fuck, I’m gonna come in my pants again if he doesn’t stop.
“You want my dick?” he asks, pulling away and moving his hand from my chin to grab my bandana, yanking it off and letting it fall to the floor before he grips my hair. He tugs and I whimper, then nod vehemently.
“Yes,” I gasp, remembering his rule about words. “Please.”
“Turn around then, and drop your pants, Captain Hook.”
I do as he says, my cock already leaking obscene amounts of precum. I unbutton my pants and shove them down, along with my boxer briefs. They don’t go all the way to the floor because of my boots, but it’ll have to do.
He kneels and I feel him spreading my cheeks with his hands, my cock jerking and my hole fluttering in anticipation. Fuck, yes, I’ve missed this. I jut my ass out and he pinches my right cheek.
“Ow!” I cry, jerking, and he chuckles. “Why?”
“I told you I don’t take orders, doll. Not even nonverbal ones. Ask for what you want.”
Fuck, why does that turn me on so much? “I want the butt stuff,” I say. “All of it. The licking, the spanking, the biting. Everything.”
He hums and nips at my cheek, then licks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my cock, making me moan. Shit. “You liked that, huh?” he says, his voice thick and raspy. I shiver and have to try really hard not to shove my ass back into his face again.
“Yes,” I admit. And then fucking howl when his tongue slides over my taint and along my hole. I’m desperate to spread my legs wider but I can’t, though it doesn’t seem to be hindering him much. That tiny tongue ring feels incredible with every damp swipe, and his saliva drips down my ass and along my thighs. He rests his tongue against my pucker and flicks it repeatedly and I cry out. “Nnnnggg, fuck.”
Then his tongue spears into me and I keen, arching my back as I shake, then I’m fisting my hands on the door and biting my lip, panting, desperately trying to hold back the undignified noises that are breaking free.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls. “I want to hear every goddamn sound that comes out of your mouth. Understand?”
Oh, shit. My cock jerks at that and I nod. He slaps my ass, hard. Fuck. “Yes,” I gasp. “Christ, yes.”
“You have lube and a condom?”
I nod. “Right pants pocket.”
He digs around before pulling my wallet out and grabbing the necessary items. Then I’m trying once again not to shove my ass into his face while he slicks up his fingers with lube and stands. My hole flutters wildly as he runs his finger along it, circling it, driving me insane.
“Shit,” I breathe as my body trembles and my cock jerks, dripping precum onto the floor. I let out a relieved moan as his finger slides inside me. “God, yes.”
His finger moves as he reaches around and presses his hand to my abdomen, his lips brushing against my ear and his nose nuzzling my neck. I growl in frustration that I still can’t spread my legs wider, and he chuckles, his warm breath ghosting over my ear. It smells of cider and vanilla, and I can feel his erection against my ass.
“More. Please,” I beg. He pulls out, and a second later two fingers are pushing inside me as he grips my hip now with his other hand. He scissors his fingers, stretching me, preparing me for his gorgeous cock, and my hole spasms at the knowledge that he’ll be inside me soon, filling me, fucking me.
I cry out when his finger nudges my prostate, and I can’t help it, I rock back into him. “Again,” I whimper. “Please.”
“God, you’re so fucking greedy,” he growls. “Aren’t you? One taste and your ass just can’t get enough.”
I start to nod and then catch myself. “Yes.” I shove my ass back more and his finger nudges my sweet spot again, making me wail. I’ve never been this vocal during sex, but holy hell, everything he does feels incredible. The way he moves inside me, against me, the way he takes control, the fucking filthy mouth. It’s everything.
“Love the sounds you make,” he rasps. “Moaning like a bitch for me.”
Oh, shit, my cock jerks at that and I whimper as more precum slides out.
He scissors his fingers inside me and then nudges my prostate again as I shove back against him, whimpering. “Shit, please.”
“Please what?” he asks, his voice filled with arousal that skates down my spine and makes me gasp.
“Spank me,” I beg. “Please fucking spank me. I want it so bad.” My entire body is trembling with the need and desire for him to fucking own me, make me submit, make me his.
He growls and bites my ear, tugging and rubbing up against me in those tiny speedos, his fingers moving and nudging my sweet spot a couple more times, causing even more undignified noises to pour out of me. Then his fingers are sliding out of me and his hand lands hard on my ass cheek. His dick is pressed against my hip as his hand comes down on my ass again and again.
“Fuck, yes,” I cry, the sting thrilling me and making my cock throb and ooze precum each and every time. I’m so fucking hard it hurts. “Don’t stop.”
“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he snarls, then reaches up with his other hand and grabs my chin again, turning me to face him. “Fucking kiss me,” he demands, and holy hell, I like that. My cock spasms as our mouths meet and he slaps my ass two more times.
I moan and whimper into his mouth, feeling my climax barreling up on me as his finger slides inside me and he pegs my prostate again and again, his hips thrusting against me once more. He lets out a deep guttural groan and I feel his cock pulsing as he comes. Holy fuck. It’s enough to make my own orgasm crash into me and I wail as my cock shoots spurt after spurt of cum onto the door.
I’m a panting, gasping mess, my chest heaving as I shake with the aftershocks of my release. “Holy hell.” I grin and turn to him. “Guess we didn’t need the condom.”
He smirks and stares down at his cum filled speedo. “Fuck.”
I chuckle. “I think it looks good.”
He actually blushes and it’s the sexiest thing in the world.
“You ever bottom?” I ask, my hands and arms resting on the door as I look at him. “Or do you like being in charge too much?”
He gives me a wicked smirk. “Oh, I bottom, doll. But I’m always in charge.”
Oh. Shit that sounds hot. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again,” I tell him.
“I can’t,” he says, like it’s a fucking law he’s breaking or something. What is it with not fucking the same dude twice? If the sex is good, why wouldn’t you want to do it all the time?
“You’re telling me this isn’t the best fucking sex you’ve ever had?” I ask him, wiping the jizz off my dick with some toilet paper and then washing my hands off in the sink before pulling my pants and underwear back up. I grab some more toilet paper and clean the door off as best as I can. “Why waste time on all those other guys when we can just keep doing what we’re doing? We’re both enjoying it, right?”
Silence.
“Give me your number,” I say, after tossing the mess into the trash can. He narrows his eyes at me. “Please?”
“I don’t do that.”
“You don’t fuck the same guy twice either.” I grin.
He bites his lip, and that alone makes me want him to fuck me all over again.
“Only friends and family have my number.”
“I’m a friend.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Preston. Preston Wright. There, now we know each other.”
He shakes his head but there’s a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he cleans himself off. I can’t help taking a peek at his dick. It’s nice to look at, covered in his jizz. Especially knowing that I’m the reason why.
“Why should I give you my number when we can communicate through Grindr?”
Hope stirs in me because he’s not dismissing me completely. “I can do that if you want. But if we’re gonna keep hooking up, trading numbers makes sense, right?”
He seems to be wrestling with himself. “I’ll think about it,” he finally says.
“So you’ll see me again?”
“We’ll see.”
He goes to open the door but I stop him. “Wait. Don’t I get your name?”
He turns back, hesitates a little, then says, “Jackson.”
Then he’s gone.