Chapter 10
Bode
The ping from my phone jolted me out of a restless sleep, and I rolled over, lunging for it, hoping for a DeviDraws update.
Instead, there was a text message chain from Mack and Lola discussing finding a rental house in Elkhead for the winter season.
Their excitement was palpable, and they were asking for my help, like staying behind made me the default realtor for the group.
I groaned, and buried my face in the pillow, ready to throw my phone across the room. But then it pinged again, and I couldn’t resist checking. Stupid DeviDraws, tempting me into looking at my notifications again.
And this time, I was rewarded with the thing I craved. A Patreon notification. My heart immediately kicked into a higher gear, blood rushing south before I’d even seen the content. It had been two days since that moment in the hot tub with Wade, and he hadn’t pushed.
Not even when we’d read Lucky’s latest comic together. Not even when she’d almost caught us.
And I knew why. He didn’t want to have to push, he wanted me to ask for it. And for some reason, I was still pretending I didn’t want to dive headfirst into my newfound urge to stuff his cock into my mouth.
Wade’s theory was that I was waiting for Lucky, but I was pretty sure I was just scared shitless.
But now DeviDraws had posted new artwork, and I was already reaching for my phone despite the twist of anxiety in my stomach.
I stared at the notification, thumb hovering over it as I realized it was the commission piece Wade had ordered through my account, with that cheeky grin that told me he was ordering something that he hoped would change everything for me.
The house was quiet, Sunday morning stillness broken only by the soft hiss of the heating system. Lucky was at brunch with Emily. Wade had been called in for an emergency surgery consult.
I was alone. It didn’t make things easier. Wade made things easier.
I set my phone down and grabbed it again. Put it face down. Picked it up.
Fuck it. I texted Wade.
Bode: You gonna be back soon?
Wade: About an hour. Need something?
Bode: DeviDraws sent us our commission piece.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.
I smirked as I thought about the day before, the structured message we’d sent her asking for a filthy drawing featuring her three most recent characters.
The ones that looked like the three of us.
She'd almost caught us, huddled together on the couch, trying to figure out how to word the message.
Wade: OH SHIT. Have you opened it yet?
Bode: No. Waiting for you.
Wade: Don’t you fucking dare without me. I’m going in to see the patient now, but it’s just a consult. I’ll be home soon. WAIT.
I tossed my phone onto the bed beside me and stared at the ceiling. I could wait, right? My cock was already half-hard from the anticipation, from the new image waiting, that Lucky had been thinking about… what? About sex. About us?
Five minutes passed. Ten. I picked up my phone again, checking the time.
Fuck, why was Wade taking so long? I pulled up the Patreon app and logged in, heart pounding as I navigated to DeviDraws’ page.
The commission post was at the top: “Watching Them Learn.” The thumbnail was cropped close enough to be safe for the app’s guidelines, but I could see the suggestion of bodies, of skin.
I shouldn’t . I should wait for Wade. But my thumb was already tapping the image, my breath already catching in my throat.
The drawing loaded, and my mouth went dry.
It was us. Us. Wade and me, standing chest to chest, our bodies rendered with such detail that I wondered when Lucky had been studying us so thoroughly.
Wade’s broader shoulders, the muscled bulk of his chest, the light dusting of golden hair that trailed down his stomach.
And me, leaner but defined, the muscles I’d built over a lifetime on the mountain captured in lines.
We were pressed together, our mouths locked in a kiss, one of Wade’s large hands wrapped around both our cocks, holding them together.
But it was more than the kiss, more than the bodies.
It was the way she’d captured the moment of release, both our cocks already wet with cum, mine actively spurting, adding to the mess on our stomachs, dripping down our hands.
And standing to the side, watching us with an expression of focused hunger, was Lucky herself, fully clothed in contrast to our nakedness, one hand on my character’s ass, as if directing the scene.
“Fuck,” I whispered, my cock now fully hard, straining against my sweatpants.
The detail was incredible: the expression on cartoon-Wade’s face, eyes half-lidded with pleasure; the way cartoon-me had my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss; the sheen of sweat on both our bodies; the thick ropes of cum connecting us.
I shoved my sweatpants down and wrapped my hand around my cock, giving it a stroke as I continued to stare at the image.
What would it be like—Wade’s cock against mine?
His mouth? His hands were so much bigger than mine, would they feel different?
Would they feel better? I’d never even thought about being with a man before, but now it was all I could think about, my brain supplying vivid images of Wade’s broad shoulders, his easy smile, the way his scrubs pulled across his chest.
I was so lost in the image, in the fantasy it had triggered, that I didn’t hear the front door open. Didn’t hear footsteps approaching my door. Didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until my bedroom door swung open and Wade stood there, cheeks flushed from the cold, a shopping bag in one hand.
“Dude, I told you to wait—” he started, stopped as he registered the scene before him: me on the bed, sweatpants around my thighs, cock in hand, phone in the other with the drawing visible on the screen.
In any other circumstances, I would have shouted at him as I scrambled to cover myself, but Wade’s darkening eyes, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, kept me where I was. Instead of stopping, I gave my cock another long stroke, watching his reaction.
"I couldn’t wait," I said, my voice low and rougher than I expected. “Need this. Need you.”
Wade stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He dropped the shopping bag on the floor, never taking his eyes off me. "Let me see," he moved closer to the bed.
I held out my phone, and he took it, his eyes widening as he studied the drawing. A smile spread across his face, not the goofy grin I was used to, but darker, more intent.
"Like our Lucky has an imagination," he said, his voice different than I’d ever heard it, deeper, with an edge that sent a shiver down my spine. "And like you might be a little more bi than you thought."
I groaned, letting my head fall back against the pillows. "I don’t know what the fuck I am," I said. “But clearly I’m not straight. Her art is driving me crazy."
Wade set my phone down on the nightstand and stared at me for a long moment.
Then, with a slowness that made my cock throb, he reached for the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head.
His chest was broad, dusted with golden hair that narrowed to a trail disappearing into his jeans.
My mouth watered at the sight, a reaction I’d never experienced with a man before.
"Take your shirt off," he said, hands moving to his belt.
I didn’t hesitate. I yanked my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside, kicked my sweatpants the rest of the way off. Wade’s eyes traveled over me, taking in every inch of exposed skin with an appreciation that was almost tangible.
"Fuck, Bode." He pushed his jeans and boxers down in one motion, stepping out of them. And he was naked, his cock hard and thick, curving upward, bigger than mine in a way that made my stomach flip with a new kind of hunger.
He moved to the bed, and I scooted over to make room for him. But instead of lying beside me, he straddled my hips, his thighs bracketing mine, his cock inches from my own. The heat of him was incredible, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress in a way that was both unfamiliar and right.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his face serious for a moment, eyes searching mine.
"Yes," I said, the word coming out more like a gasp than I intended. "Yes, it’s okay. It’s good. I want it.”
Wade smiled—that familiar, warm Wade smile that somehow felt different in this context, more predatory.
"Lucky wants us to make a mess together," he lowered his hips until our cocks brushed against each other.
The contact sent a jolt through me, a current of pleasure so sharp it was almost painful.
"She wants to watch us kiss, wants to see us touch each other, wants to see us come all over each other. "
I groaned at his words, at the mental image they created, at the sensation of his cock sliding against mine. "Wade—"
He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "Have you thought about it?" he asked, his breath warm against my lips. "About kissing me? About touching me?"
"Yes." The confession tore out of me. "Since the hot tub."
That was all he needed to hear. He closed the distance between us, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that was nothing like I expected.
His lips were soft but insistent, his stubble scraping against my chin in a way that made me shiver.
He tasted like coffee and mint gum, and I opened for him, my tongue meeting his in a slide that was electric.
He moved one hand between us, wrapping around both our cocks, mirroring Lucky’s drawing.
His palm was calloused but gentle, creating a delicious friction as he stroked us together.
The slide of his cock against mine, hot and hard and already slick with pre-cum, was overwhelming, pleasure building at the base of my spine with an intensity that took me by surprise.
"Fuck, Bode," Wade groaned against my mouth. “You taste so good. Wanted this for so long."
The admission sent another spike of heat through me. How long had he been thinking about this? How long had he been watching me, wanting me, while I was too caught up in my own head to notice?
I reached between us, my hand joining his around our cocks, our fingers interlacing.
The combined pressure was incredible, the slide of skin on skin made easier by the pre-cum leaking from both of us.
Wade kissed me deeper, more desperately, his free hand tangling in my hair, pulling hard enough to make me gasp.
"That’s it," he murmured against my lips. "Lucky would love to see us like this. You’d love being watched, wouldn’t you?”
The mention of Lucky watching sent another wave of heat through me. Would she want to see this? Would she want to direct us, like in the drawing?
I pulled back enough to look at him. His face flushed, hair wrecked, eyes dark. He was so damn sexy.
“I want to be clear, since you keep asking for that.”
“Now?” He smirked at me, grinding against my cock.
“Fuck—that’s—yes, now. The fantasy of her is sexy as fuck, but you're just as sexy. And I want to come all over your fucking cock."
Something shifted in Wade's expression. The framing dropped away and it was him looking at me, and whatever he saw made his breath go unsteady.
His lips tilted into a half smile, and his hand tightened around us. "Fuck yeah."
"I’m close," I gasped, the pressure building to an point. "Wade, I’m going to—"
"Do it." His strokes became faster, more erratic. "Come for me, Bode. Show me what you like when you lose control."
His words pushed me over the edge. My orgasm hit me like a force, tearing a shout from my throat as my cock pulsed between us, cum spurting onto my stomach, onto Wade’s hand, onto his cock.
The sight of my release coating his skin was enough to trigger Wade’s own orgasm: his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent cry, his cock jerking against mine as he added to the mess between us.
For a moment, we stayed like that, panting, Wade’s weight heavy on me, our cocks still pressed together, softening. Wade looked down at me, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Before I could react, he was moving down my body, his tongue tracing a path through the mess on my stomach.
The sight of Wade Kowalski, cheerful, golden Wade, licking my cum off my skin with determination was almost enough to make me hard again.
He glanced up at me as he did it, maintaining eye contact in a way that felt like a challenge, like a promise.
When he was satisfied that he’d cleaned most of it up, he moved back up, collapsing beside me on the bed. We lay there in silence for a moment, both staring at the ceiling, our breathing returning to normal.
"So," Wade said, turning his head towards me. "I think we need to talk to Lucky."
I nodded, not sure what had happened, what it meant, or where we went from here.
But for the first time in months, I felt something other than the numbness that had become my constant companion.
I felt alive, present in my body in a way I hadn’t since before the Olympics, before the gold medal that changed everything.
"Yeah." I reached for his hand, finding it warm and solid. "I think we do."