Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Sam
The last weekend before school started always felt like a funeral.
Not a tragic one, more like the slow, reluctant kind, where you knew you were saying goodbye to something good. Come Monday, it would be early mornings, lesson plans, and teenagers who had forgotten how to follow directions over the summer. But tonight?
Tonight was for pretending none of that was looming.
The backyard was lit by the warm glow of colorful string lights draped along the privacy fence, citronella candles keeping the worst of the bugs at bay.
A lazy playlist hummed in the background, low and unobtrusive beneath the steady hum of conversation and laughter.
The aroma of grilled meat still lingered in the air, mixing with warm summer earth and the crisp edge of the approaching fall.
It had been a damn good night.
At one point, the Four Amigos (Tess, Avery, Ezra, and Max) rolled in like a coordinated sitcom ensemble.
Tess brought a massive spinach-artichoke dip that somehow disappeared in less than fifteen minutes.
Avery offered up trays of homemade spring rolls.
Ezra had baked three different kinds of mini cupcakes (one with edible glitter, obviously), and Max, ever the wildcard, brought an enormous punch bowl of neon blue drink labeled simply “Ocean Daddy.”
They mingled easily, dishing out hugs and teasing remarks, catching up with the group like no time had passed.
Max and Ezra took over playlist duties for a bit, insisting on a nostalgic mix of late 2000s pop hits, while Tess and Avery got deep in conversation with Jules about the Playhouse’s fall fundraiser.
And later, just as the fire pit began to dim, the four slipped out together with a chorus of dramatic goodbyes, group hugs, and promises of brunch next weekend.
The potluck had been a success. Elliott’s famous mac and cheese had disappeared in record time, Callie’s weird but amazing lavender honey cake had somehow worked, and Renzo had shown up with a platter of grilled vegetables that looked entirely too fancy for a backyard gathering.
The drinks had been flowing, the laughter had been abundant, and as the evening wore on, the crowd slowly thinned.
Callie curled their feet up in the Adirondack chair, cradling their wine glass. “Okay, so I need details. Full camping trip recap. Don’t think I didn’t clock Liam getting real friendly with you when he left.”
I huffed a laugh, tipping back my beer. “It was a great trip. Lots of sun. Naked swimming. Too much tequila. There was a s’mores competition that somehow turned into a fire hazard. Liam won, obviously.”
Jules leaned in, grinning as Harper asked. “Did anyone cry this time?”
“Only this one young couple, but it was because they got too high and thought the trees were whispering existential truths. Also, you should set up a practice at the camp. You could make a killing counseling couples to have conversations before coming to camp about what their agreements and boundaries are when it comes to playing with others.”
Callie snorted. “So, standard gay camp behavior.”
“Basically.” I shrugged. “It was good, though. Relaxed. We all needed it.”
There was a small silence, soft and relaxed, between us.
Then Jules sighed and said, “The Playhouse auditions, though? Not good.”
Callie winced in sympathy. “Oh no. What happened, babe?”
“Disaster. One kid tried to sing ‘Defying Gravity’ in baritone. Another brought a monologue that turned out to be from a Twilight fanfic. I mean, we’ve had rough years, but this was… bleak.”
“Do you need me to come in and teach a vocal warm-up or emotional regulation or something?” Renzo asked.
“Honestly?” Jules rubbed his face. “Yes. I need both. And maybe a priest.”
We all laughed again, the sound loose and light in the dark. The fire pit crackled low, its last embers glowing.
It was one of those nights you wanted to tuck into your pocket and keep. Just for when the noise came back. When school started and the quiet slipped away.
For now, we let it stretch just a little longer.
Until there were just three of us left.
Me. Liam. Jordan.
The grill was off, the plates and cups abandoned in a loose pile on the outdoor table. The air was thick with summer’s lingering heat, cooled just enough by the occasional breeze.
I stretched out in my chair, sinking into the snugness of it, my body heavy with food and drink, my mind pleasantly buzzed. This was exactly the night I’d wanted. One last, perfect summer evening, surrounded by people I cared about, no pressure, no expectations.
I caught myself looking at Liam more than I should have, measuring the space between us like it meant something. Two weeks had passed since Cedar Hollow, and we still hadn’t talked about it. Not once.
We flirted. We touched. But there was a gap now.
The fire pit had burned down to embers as Liam and I sat in our chairs next to each other and Jordan sprawled out on the grass, all of us still buzzing from the night. The sounds of the neighborhood had quieted, leaving just the occasional distant bark of a dog, and the rhythmic hum of crickets.
I wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened, but it was there.
A lingering glance.
A flirty comment that hit a little harder.
The lazy, confident way Jordan stretched out on the grass, eyes dark with something flirty, his lips curling just enough to be suggestive.
Then he looked at Liam.
Then he looked at me.
Jordan took a drink from his beer bottle, his eyes bounced between us, his smile widening.
“You know,” he mused, his voice low, smooth, confident. “I really enjoyed that weekend.”
Liam smirked, tipping his own bottle back. “That was pretty obvious.”
Jordan chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head, completely at ease. “Yeah? Well, if I’m being honest, I kinda wish I had knocked on your tent that night.”
Silence.
My pulse tripped.
He let the words settle before turning toward me, one eyebrow lifted in that lazy, knowing way of his.
“I’d really like to suck your cocks.”
Liam inhaled deeply beside me.
There was no hesitation in Jordan’s voice. No second-guessing. Just that smooth, casual confidence of his.
The weight of it, the directness, the unspoken challenge, hung between us.
Liam sighed, slow and when I glanced at him, his expression was unreadable.
Then his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Then his gaze turned back to mine.
And in that split second, I realized something. I wasn’t thinking about hesitation. I wasn’t thinking about what this meant.
Jordan’s smile deepened as he crawled across the grass to position himself right between our two chairs, his fingers traced idle patterns against my thigh before he glanced between us, eyes dark with something wicked.
“Would you two like that as well?” he murmured, voice smooth, forward. “To have your cocks in my mouth?”
His hands moved before either of us responded, one sliding over my thigh, the other brushing against Liam. A wanting, testing touch.
I glanced at Liam, met his eyes in the firelight.
Jordan was right there in the grass, his hands reaching out, palming both of us through our shorts.
A shudder worked through me as his grip tightened, rubbing me through the fabric, his other hand mirroring the motion on Liam.
I was already half-hard.
So was Liam.
And when Liam finally spoke, his voice was low, rough, edged with something undeniable. Breathless. “Fuck yes.”
Jordan’s leer flicked to mine, his fingers tightening slightly, a silent question hanging between us.
I was buzzed, warm, floating in that sweet spot where nothing mattered but this moment, this heat, and this electricity pulsing between the three of us.
I should have thought about it. Should have hesitated.
Should have said no. But there was a hand on my crotch, my skin was warm from the whiskey, and I was still humming with the unresolved tension of the last two weeks.
“Why the fuck not,” I murmured.
Jordan rose to his knees in the soft grass between our chairs.
His eyes fixed on the prominent bulges in our shorts, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he gently massaged us.
The air was thick with anticipation as Jordan’s hands worked their magic, and soon both Liam and I were rock-hard, straining against the confines of our shorts.
With a sly smile, Jordan tugged at the waistbands of our shorts, and we obligingly lifted our hips, allowing him to slide the fabric down our legs.
The shorts pooled around our ankles, leaving us exposed and vulnerable to Jordan's ministrations.
He stared up at us in admiration, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of our erect penises.
"Fuck, you guys are huge," Jordan breathed, his voice full of awe. "I mean, I've seen some big dicks before, including Liam’s, but... damn."
Liam and I exchanged a glance. Jordan's hands closed around our members, his fingers wrapping around the shafts as he began to stroke them in slow motion.
The first touch of hiss lips on my dick was like a jolt of lightning. I closed my eyes, letting out a low groan as Jordan's mouth enveloped me in warmth and wetness. Liam watched, transfixed, as Jordan began to suck me with slow, languid strokes.
"Suck my buddy's cock," Liam whispered hoarsely to Jordan.
Jordan enthusiastically did just that. He sucked harder at first, then slowed down and took me deeper. His throat constricted slightly as he gagged.