Chapter 13 - Asher
I’d been stuck at home for what felt like a hundred years, even though it had only been about a week, and I was starting to feel desperate for some actual independence.
After Micah left that morning, I sat around getting lost in my own thoughts and watching TV for too long.
The day raced by and before I knew it, the day was nearly over.
I decided to take some action—to do something with my swirling thoughts and anxiety.
I decided to shower before he got home, to prove to both of us that I was healing.
I limped my way to my bedroom and gathered fresh clothes before making my way into the bathroom.
As the water heated up, I shrugged out of my sling and slowly wrestled my T-shirt off.
It took a little maneuvering, but I managed to slide my good arm out first, then hook it over my head and off of my bad arm.
Once that was done, it was only a matter of stepping out of my boxers and sweatpants before I stepped into the shower and under the hot water.
Immediately, the muscles in my back loosened and relaxed under the spray. I let out a soft sigh as the hot water covered me, tipping my head back to soak my hair. Slowly and carefully, I lathered up my hands and washed my hair.
Once that was done, I cleaned the rest of my body.
While I soaped up, I let my mind wander back to our kiss.
The way his mouth had felt against mine had been nothing short of miraculous.
His lips had been soft and giving but with a couple of days of scruff on his face, the friction had felt…
nice. His scent made me dizzy when we kissed.
My heart was in my throat as I let myself imagine what else might happen.
I imagined sliding my hands down his firm body to his hips, and how he might feel under my touch.
I imagined moving my hand against his cock, through the fabric of his jeans, stroking his growing erection between us.
I leaned back against the shower wall and sighed softly, before running my hand along my own hardening shaft and letting out a soft groan of pleasure.
Butterflies raced through me, a nervous thrill at the possibilities running through my mind.
I paid slow attention to the crown, where precum leaked from the tip already.
I let out another quiet groan as I teased myself, rubbing my thumb over the slit, wanting more, wishing it was him touching me.
I carefully spread my legs a little wider and fucked into my fist. There was minimal pain in my hip from the movement, and I took that as a sign that it was okay to keep going.
Eyes closed, I imagined his hands on my cock, softer than my calloused ones, moving with a sureness that I knew I wouldn’t possess, at least not at first, not with him. I gripped myself firmly and worked my leaking erection, my mouth falling open as pleasure built inside me.
“Fuck,” I muttered, an image of Micah leaning in to kiss my neck bubbling up in my mind.
As my desperation began to intensify, I groaned louder, fucked my fist harder, and the images in my mind shifted to Micah being completely naked and waiting for me, his body firm and solid.
In my mind, I reached out to touch him again, my breath hitching as I did.
He nodded and urged me to continue, murmuring reassurances.
And then, still in my imagination, I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth.
As I did, my orgasm tore through me, the intensity of it catching me off guard and making me cry out, a sound like a broken sob wrenched from my throat, louder than I’d intended.
I stroked myself through the waves of pleasure and when it was over, I opened my eyes slowly, chest heaving as I caught my breath.
My face burned with embarrassment, knowing I’d just jerked off thinking of one of my best friends, and I washed away the evidence before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower.
My hip ached from the exertion. I gingerly toweled myself dry and stepped into a clean pair of boxers and sweats.
Just as I finished pulling on the sweatpants, the front door opened and Micah called out my name.
“Ash? I’m home.”
I didn’t think I could manage to pull a T-shirt on without help—getting the other one off had been nothing short of a small miracle—so I padded barefoot into the living room to find Micah standing there with a rotisserie chicken box in one hand and several grocery bags in the other.
“Hey,” I said, my voice thick in my throat. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to push him away, but acting like I wasn’t interested in him was going to be hard considering the overwhelming new feelings I was experiencing, and especially considering what I’d just done in the bathroom.
He held up the groceries and gave me a tentative smile, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Hey.”
We were both still for a moment, neither of us speaking, until I finally looked at the floor. “Do you need help?”
“I should be asking you that. Did you take a shower?”
With a chuckle, I nodded and looked back at him. “Yeah, can you believe it? All on my own.”
Micah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze roaming my body. “It’s—yeah. That’s awesome. I guess you don’t really need me around here anymore. We can get you a step stool for the bed and you’ll be as good as independent in no time.”
“Yeah. That sounds good.” Why was it so awkward between us? Did one kiss really ruin everything we’d rebuilt as friends? Maybe it wasn’t the kiss that was the problem. Maybe it was the fact that I’d told him I wanted him and I wanted to do it again.
I sighed. “Listen, I—”
At the same time, Micah spoke. “Well, I—”
We both stopped and laughed a little. “You first,” I said.
“I was just going to say, I should probably get these groceries put away. Nobody wants melted ice cream.”
“Yeah.”
Micah approached, making his way into the kitchen. I followed him, wishing I could shatter the weird vibe that we had going on. As he unloaded the groceries—mostly junk food and snacks—I watched, not sure what to say.
With his back turned, he began to speak. “I guess we need to talk about that kiss.” He ducked his head, turning his gaze to the floor. “I liked it, too.” After a beat, he turned to face me. “I like you. But I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.”
Butterflies exploded in my gut. He liked it. He liked me. He didn’t hate me for what I’d done. “I know. I don’t want that, either.” I took a tentative step closer. “It’s just… you’re the first guy—”
“I know. That’s why I said maybe we should just forget about it.”
“I don’t know if I can forget about it. I know I don’t want to.”
Micah nodded and turned to face me. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “Neither do I.”
“You don’t?” I took a step closer.
He shook his head and once again, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving in a way that drew my attention to his throat, reminding me of my shower. A wave of desire crashed through me. “Can I—”
Before I could get out another word, Micah took another step forward, closing the gap between us, and pulled me against him.
Instead of the quick, surprising, clumsy thing our first kiss had been, this was different.
We leaned into one another and I inhaled, breathing in his scent once again.
It was intoxicating, addictive, and I wanted more.
I slid one hand along his waist and pulled him against me as our lips parted and his tongue met mine.
Micah let out a soft groan that went straight to my cock, the intensity of my desire catching me off guard, even now.
We kissed for several long moments, exploring each other’s mouths, hands gripping, pressing our bodies together, before the intensity of the kiss turned feverish.
Tentatively at first, I eased my good hand lower, to the hem of his T-shirt, and slid my fingers up to touch his bare skin.
His back was hot to the touch, and he groaned again when I made contact.
It seemed he took the opportunity as permission, because before I knew it, Micah’s hands were both hooked onto the top of my sweats, hauling my hips against his.
His cock was hard against me, my own erection aching to be touched. My chest rumbled with a soft moan of desire as Micah pressed his palms against my lower back. I couldn’t stand it—I wanted, no, needed him. “More,” I murmured into the kiss.
Micah drew back to look me in the eye, both of us breathing hard. “More?”
I answered without hesitation. “Please.”
He kissed me again, his tongue thrusting into my mouth for a brief moment before he nipped my lower lip and pulled away. “Okay,” he said breathlessly, spinning us so my back was against the counter. He tugged at the hem of my sweats again. “Can I?”
I moaned again at the thought, zero hesitation, just desire coursing through me.
“Yes,” I breathed. My cock throbbed with the promise of touch as Micah sank to his knees, keeping eye contact as he did.
Even though I’d just come in the shower ten minutes ago, I found myself on the precipice already, without even being touched yet, the heat between us too much for me to bear.
Once he was kneeling in front of me, he pulled my sweats down in one swift movement, exposing my aching erection, precum glistening at the tip.
He licked his lips and enveloped my crown in his mouth as more precum pulsed from me.
He began to suck, bobbing his head to take me in deep, and I couldn’t look away.
I was awestruck, both at the situation and the sensations flooding my body.
I’d been with women before, but this was nothing like that.
He took my cock deep in his throat, over and over, as heat built in the pit of my stomach and in my balls. I watched him as he made quick work of bringing me to the edge. With my good hand, I gripped the kitchen counter, letting out soft noises of pleasure as I was drawn toward release.
“Close,” I murmured, desperate to touch him, to have more of him. Micah moaned and nodded, but I didn’t want to come like that. I put a hand on his shoulder to still him and when he looked up in confusion, I tugged at his shirt. “C’mere.”
Micah climbed to his feet and I pulled him in close for a kiss before clumsily attempting to unfasten his jeans.
Grinning, he stepped back and shoved them down, closing in on me again.
Our tongues slid together, the salty taste of my precum on his lips.
I lined up both of our cocks, gripped them in my good hand, and began to stroke.
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he groaned in pleasure.
A moment later, his hand joined mine and we stroked together.
A few moments later, Micah leaned in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss and as our lips met, he came, groaning into my mouth.
His orgasm spilled out of him and coated our fists, making mine slick.
The scent of him filled my nostrils, mingled with sweat and sex, and I moaned as I came, my release joining his in covering our hands.
He kept stroking us until we were both through the aftershocks, until I pulled away from the kiss and tipped my head back with a groan.
Micah pulled away then and my chest ached, still wanting him close. He washed up and hauled his jeans back in place before tilting his head to the sink and stepping aside, giving me space to follow suit.
When we were both clean and back in our clothes, I leaned against the counter again, facing him. Overwhelmed, I didn’t know what to say. My chest was tight, full of emotion, my mind reeling. When I caught my breath, there was only one thing I could manage to say. “Holy shit.”
“I hope…” Micah started, but trailed off. I raised my eyebrows and waited for him to finish. With a deep breath, he started again. “We’re okay, right? Like, still friends? That wasn’t too much for you?”
“Not too much,” I assured him.