13. Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Ozzy
Ozzy hated how good the words ‘blow job’ sounded coming out of Evander’s mouth. He hated how the memories of that mouth flooded back into his mind. He hated how Evander wasn’t writing it off as a joke immediately.
And he really, really hated how he was fighting to get himself to shoot down the suggestion out of hand. And how he was losing that fight.
He was pretty hard-up lately. His hand did a reasonable job, and the internet was a wide and varied landscape of porn. He could open up an app and find out exactly how many feet away a given fuck was from him. He’d certainly opened that app while they were in Springfield, and a few times since they made it to Three Rivers.
The problem was, the closest guys to him on there were all on the crew. They traveled together, they stayed in the same hotel, they worked together. Not like they had any reason to avoid being on there, and not like they had anything to hide. Over the years, they’d seen each other in various states of undress. On at least one memorable occasion, everyone else had walked in to see Ozzy balls deep down Ev’s throat, both of them butt-ass naked.
Evander, of course, was the problem. His profile pic was entirely too tempting, him naked, one hand covering his junk, light and shadow twisting over his torso. Ozzy didn’t trust himself enough with that picture taunting him every time he opened that app, but he’d also never quite been able to get himself to block Evander’s profile. He shouldn’t have needed to. He wasn’t interested in hooking up with Ev again.
Which made the whole internal struggle all the more annoying. Why can’t I just say no and kick him out on his ass? The obvious answer sat right in front of him. Evander was god damn sexy. Ozzy’s cock stirred just looking at him fully clothed, hearing him talk about blow jobs. As if they hadn’t discussed them with each other on numerous occasions.
Ozzy popped his neck to one side, the crack deafening in the silence that followed Evander’s question. “What would you even do if I said yes? I can say plenty bad about you, but you’re not stupid. This doesn’t end well.”
“What doesn’t end well? Not to toot my own horn, but my blow jobs tend to end very well.” Evander sighed. “Look, this wasn’t like a plan I came here with. But I have to work with you, okay? If tickling that little pickle of yours gets you to chill out so we can actually work together, that’s hardly the worst thing I could think of.”
“Do I need to point out that it was your idea to have us work together? Could have left the entire patio to me.”
“You’re still stuck on that?” Evander shook his head. “Don’t dodge the question.”
“Why are you asking the question?” Ozzy’s voice raised and roughed on the edges. He heard it, so he lowered it. A bit. Not entirely. “What is going on with you? You want to push and push and push, then offer to blow me?” He scrubbed his hands up and down his face, trying to find some footing in logic and reason. And trying even harder to convince himself that the offer wasn’t god damn tempting. Evander had a hell of a mouth on him, metaphorically and literally, and it wasn’t un appealing for Ozzy to put it to use.
“I’m just being honest.” Evander shrugged. “There’s no point lying about anything between us, as far as I’m concerned. You’ve seen me puking naked in a bathtub, and I’ve sat there with you getting black out drunk in your parents’ basement.”
It was enough of a sting to deflate his growing hard-on. Another reminder of Ev’s constant pushing and prodding on his relationship with his folks. Way past the point when he should have just shut up about it. “Okay, fine. You want some honesty? You need to learn when not to say every fucking thought that goes through that pretty little head of yours. A little less hair gel and you might be able to think properly. I know appearances are everything for you, but consider it.” Ozzy pointed toward the door. “You can go. Anything important, we can talk about tomorrow. And if you need a dick to suck, look somewhere else.”
Evander rolled his eyes, but said nothing else as he rose, marched to the door, and stepped out.
Ozzy flung himself back on the bed, stripping off his sweats and tossing them on the chair in the corner. He was still half-hard, and a stupid little voice in the back of his head told him he could have at least used Ev to get off before tossing him out on his ass.
Ozzy wasn’t going to listen to that voice. They might not have any future together—at least not one where both of them were emotionally healthy—but that was about Ozzy. He wouldn’t just use Evander as a hole.
No matter how intense the fantasy was that flashed through his head. Washing Evander down, pressing him to his knees in the shower, guiding his head forward…
“Fuck.” Ozzy closed his eyes and tried to think of anything—gore videos, the tax code, getting slivers under his fingernails—to put that stupid, horny part of himself back where it belonged: in a locked box far away from any notion of Evander.