Chapter 13
Ben
The events of the past few days churned in my head: the visits from both Jake and Barbara, what happened between Tristan and me in the foyer, the feelings he elicited, which I had done my best to ignore.
Barbara was right. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have offered a freezing kid a lift home, but after seeing Tristan leave the bar after his date—alone, which I was more relieved about than I cared to admit—and knowing how cold it was, I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting ill.
I hadn’t even tried to talk myself out of it as I pulled up alongside him and told him to get in.
My head was in turmoil. For years, I’d locked those memories of my past in the deepest recesses of my brain, along with all the others from over the years: the random punch to the gut by kids after I’d been released from the hospital wing, the times they trashed my room and graffitied the walls with homophobic slurs.
The cruel taunts telling me I should kill myself.
I thought I’d escape it when I reached eighteen and left the home, but then I met Jake.
He wasn’t only homophobic, but also racist and sexist, too.
I tolerated it because he was the only person in my life.
If it wasn’t for Jake and his inheritance that started our business, I wouldn’t be where I was today.
The realization of that hit me like a bomb. I was alone and miserable.
Maybe my life could have been different if Derek hadn’t turned the home against me. If I’d stood up to him and fought back, if I’d told the teachers the real reason why I was attacked. If I told Jake that, yeah, I did prefer cock over pussy, then maybe I wouldn’t be living alone, hating the world.
Hating myself.
When my phone vibrated with a second alarm telling me it was 6.15 am, I reluctantly got out of bed to get ready for work. My mind continued to churn as nerves decided to spread through my body. Tristan would arrive soon.
That was if he even decided to come back. After I told him to get out of my house on Saturday, and the hurt that had covered his face, I wouldn’t have blamed him if I never saw him again. The thought was like a heavy stone landing in my stomach.
So, when the telltale sign of a van traveling up my driveway reached me at nearly 7 am, I almost sprinted to the front door and threw it open. Relief swept through me as his van stopped, and he jumped out, wearing his tight, paint-stained t-shirt and black cargo pants that framed his toned ass.
He grabbed two coffees from inside his van and sauntered to the front door, not a hint of anger on his face. “Morning, dude, got you your coffee.”
I reached out to take it, wondering if this was another vision. “Uh, thanks. I…um…I wasn’t sure if you’d be here today.”
Tristan smirked, giving me his custom grin that I’d hated at first but was becoming to crave. “I’ve still got shit to do, why would I not be here?”
I shrugged. “Just, you know, after…” I trailed off, my cheeks flaming.
For several long beats, the two of us stared at each other, unspoken words lingering in the air.
Tristan cleared his throat before tapping my shoulder.
“It’s all good. I’m not one to walk away from unfinished work, no matter what.
” His gaze dropped, almost as if he suddenly couldn’t look at me.
“I best get on with it, I’ve got a lot to do. ”
He turned to head back to his van, but before he could get far, I called out, “Bug.”
Spinning back to me, amusement danced across his features. “You do know that’s not my actual name, right?”
His playful tone made my entire body relax. “Bug suits you better,” I said, taking several large strides to stand in front of him. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.”
For the briefest of moments, his eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe I was apologizing. It was a first; I couldn’t remember ever telling anyone I was sorry.
“Sorry for what happened between us, or sorry for telling me to get out of your house?”
I sucked in a breath at the memory of his cock in my hand and how good it felt. “No, I’m not sorry for what happened between us,” I admitted as a weight lifted off my shoulders. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you after. I just…I…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Tristan said softly. “Look, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that what happened between us was the first time you’ve been with a guy?
” He paused, giving me an expectant look.
At my nod, he continued. “Okay, so I imagine it probably scrambled your head and got you questioning things?”
“You could say that,” I replied, only my head wasn’t scrambled because of what happened between us; it was from the vision still playing in my head.
Tristan shrugged. “I get it. Well…kinda. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is like me. I always knew I was gay, so I never had to question myself the first time I kissed a guy. But I get it’s not like that for everyone.
I know it can be confusing and might take some time to figure your head out, and that’s perfectly fine.
Just don’t feel bad about exploring along the way.
And you know, if you want to talk or hang out, I can be pretty good company. ”
I could only gape back at his warm, reassuring smile, in complete awe of how comfortable he was with discussing this. Barbara’s voice echoed in my ear, asking me how different my life could have been if I’d ignored all the haters and accepted my attraction to men.
Tension I didn’t know I was holding drained from my body. “Thanks, Bug. I needed to hear that.”
He clapped my shoulder. “Any time.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved, and I couldn’t stop my gaze dropping to his lips, remembering what they felt like against mine.
God, I really wanted to feel them again.
But I cleared my throat and looked away, not wanting to give him mixed messages, not when my head was a chaotic mess. “I’ll leave you to it,” I said, forcing myself to go back inside and instantly regretting not kissing him.
He did too, if his downcast look was anything to go by.
A heavy weight settled on my body, and I cracked my eyes open, blinking a few times, and realizing I’d fallen asleep on the couch after I’d arrived home from work.
The lack of sleep the night before had caught up with me, and as soon as I’d eaten dinner, I had laid on the couch and closed my eyes, thinking I’d have a few minutes’ peace.
The weight shifted, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Not again,” I mumbled. I wasn’t sure I could deal with another ghost showing me memories from my past.
Soft lips pressed against mine in a chaste kiss. “Sssh, baby. Let me take care of you.”
Lowering my gaze from where it had fixed on the ceiling to meet Tristan’s brown eyes, my heart rate kicked up several notches. He was lying on top of me, his frame settled between my spread legs, and his gorgeous smile spread across his mouth.
My eyes fluttered closed when he pressed kisses along my jawline, his hands roaming over my chest, and I regretted that I’d fallen asleep with my shirt on. I wanted to feel his palms on my skin.
Tristan slithered down my body until he reached my belt, and looking up at me from under his lashes, he began unbuckling it. My solid cock pressed against my pants, heavy and aching to feel him wrapped around it.
Fuck, I hadn’t even noticed how hard I was.
When it sprang free, Tristan’s tongue peeked out to lap against the head, his hand cloaking my shaft and giving it several hard tugs. My back arched off the couch as tingles coated my body, and a powerful shudder ran down my spine.
“Fuck, Bug, I need your mouth,” I hissed, my hand finding his hair and gripping the strands.
“As you wish, baby,” he replied, his warm breath brushing against my sensitive tip.
With no hesitation, Tristan took me into his mouth, finding a rhythm of moving up and down my length, sucking hard, and pulling needy groans from me. My hips began to buck in time with his movements, and my balls tightened.
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d come so damn quickly.
Torn between wanting this to go on for longer and wanting to erupt, I was helpless but to give in to the sensations spreading through my body at every lick, suck, and stroke Tristan gave my cock.
“Shit, fuck, Bug, I’m gonna come,” I whined, my thrusts turning more powerful, more determined.
“Come for me, baby. Come down my throat.”
His words pushed me over the edge, my orgasm detonating in a powerful explosion.
Bolting upright, I rubbed my eyes, my heart beating so fast that I was surprised I wasn’t having a heart attack. I glanced around my living room, my brain trying to catch up to what was happening.
Outside, night had fallen, and I was home alone. A quick look at the clock told me it was past 10 pm; several hours since Tristan had left for the evening. My eyes dropped to my pants, landing on a wet patch, and I shifted, my underwear stuck to me with a warm stickiness.
My brows furrowed as I joined the dots. I’d dreamed of Tristan sucking my cock and had come like a horny teenager in my pants. Disappointment coursed through me as I got to my feet and rushed to my bathroom to clean up.
But the disappointment wasn’t for losing myself in a fantasy of another guy. It was because Tristan wasn’t here so he could touch me again.