13
Cole
I stir slowly, eyes cracking open to the dim, golden light still leaking through the blinds, late afternoon, maybe early evening, the sun dipping low enough to turn everything soft and hazy.
My body feels heavy and warm, wrapped around Remy.
He’s still asleep, breathing slow and deep against my chest, one leg hooked over mine, ass pressed back snug against my hips.
His hips roll, just a tiny, sleepy shift, grinding back against my cock, which is already hard and aching, trapped between us.
The friction is light but deliberate, like his body’s chasing something even in sleep.
My dick throbs hard in response, still sensitive and unsatisfied from earlier when Hannah interrupted us mid-stroke.
“Fucking hell,” I groan low, voice rough with sleep and want.
I roll onto my back for a second, just long enough to stretch my arm to the bedside drawer. My fingers fumble through the mess inside, condoms, charger cables, random junk, until they close around the lube bottle. I yank it out, pop the cap, and squirt a generous amount onto my fingers.
I slide my hand back down, slipping under the waistband of Remy’s boxers. My fingers circle his hole once, teasing, feeling the tight ring flutter under the touch. Then I push in, one finger, steady pressure, sinking to the knuckle.
Remy jolts awake with a loud, broken groan. “Oh my god… what the fuck.”
I laugh, dark, hungry, already gone on the heat of him.
He moans again, hips rocking back instinctively, chasing more. His hole clenches around my finger, hot and perfect.
I growl low in my throat, pull my finger out just to shove his boxers down properly over the curve of his ass, exposing him completely.
My own shorts get yanked down next; I free myself, cock springing up.
I slick myself up fast, lube dripping down my shaft, then line up, pressing the head against his hole.
“I need to come in you,” I rasp against his ear, voice wrecked. “Need to fill you up. Right fucking now.”
Remy moans, shamelessly and pushes back, taking just the tip. “Yes… fuck, do it.”
I don’t rush. I want this to last. Want to feel every inch of him stretch around me. I sink in slowly, agonizingly, one long, steady push until I’m buried to the hilt. He’s so tight, so hot, clenching around me like he’s trying to pull me deeper. I groan into his neck, teeth grazing skin.
“Fuck… you feel so good,” I mutter, hips rocking in shallow little thrusts, letting him adjust. “So fucking perfect for me.”
Remy’s hands scrabble at the sheets, then reach back to grip my hip, pulling me closer. “Harder… Cole, please.”
I pull almost all the way out, a slow drag that makes him whine, then snap back in hard. He cries out, loud, and I cover his mouth with my hand, muffling it.
“Shh… quiet, baby. Don’t want the whole floor hearing how much you love my cock.”
He nods frantically against my palm, eyes rolling back as I set a rhythm, punishing thrusts that hit that spot inside him every time. His hole flutters around me, gripping like a fist, slick and greedy. I can feel him trembling, thighs shaking, back arching, cock leaking steadily onto the sheets.
I slide my hand from his mouth to his throat, thumb stroking the pulse point there. “Taking me so well. So fucking deep. You love it, don’t you? Love being full of me.”
He nods, moaning brokenly. “Yes, oh fuck, Cole… don’t stop!”
I angle my hips just right, grinding against that spot on every thrust, until he’s babbling nonsense, begging, pushing back to meet me. Sweat slicks our skin, the bed creaking under us, the wet sounds of me fucking into him obscene and perfect.
I reach around, wrap my hand around his cock, stroke him in time with my thrusts, thumb swiping over the head. He’s dripping, hot in my fist.
“Gonna come for me?” I rasp against his ear. “Gonna come all over my hand while I fill you up?”
He nods, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open on silent cries. “Please… please, Cole!”
I speed up, harder, deeper, chasing my own edge now. The pressure builds fast, tight, hot coil in my gut. I feel him start to tense, hole fluttering wildly, cock pulsing in my hand.
“Come on, baby,” I growl. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”
He shatters, mouth open in a silent scream as he spills hot over my fist, clenching so tight around me it drags me over the edge with him. I bury myself deep, growling low against his neck, and come hard, pulsing inside him, filling him up just like I promised.
We stay like that… panting, shaking, locked together, for long minutes. I don’t pull out yet. Just hold him close, lips brushing his shoulder, breathing him in.
“Fuck,” I whisper finally, voice hoarse. “You okay?”
He nods, blissed-out, turning his head to kiss me soft and lazy. “Better than okay,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Way better.”
I smile, content, and kiss him again, slow and deep.
I pull out slowly, groaning low at the drag, then roll on top of him, pinning him gently under me.
He’s flushed, lips swollen and eyes glassy, and I can’t help it…
I start kissing his face everywhere. Stupid little pecks across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, the corner of his mouth, his eyelids.
Smiling like an idiot the whole time, unable to stop.
Remy laughs, breathless, trying to squirm away. “Stop, Cole… fuck… stop it!”
I pull back just enough to grin down at him, then drop one last kiss on his nose. “Let’s go chill.”
He yawns, jaw-cracking, and stretches under me, arms over his head. “Yes please.”
I stand up, grab my robe from the hook on the door, nothing but boxers underneath, and tie it loose around my waist. I walk out of the room, leaving him to take his time, and head straight to the living room.
Grab a can of Coke from the fridge, crack it open, take a long sip, and drop onto the couch.
I want something calm, something that doesn’t demand too much brain power…
Minecraft. Dorky as hell, maybe, but perfect for right now, quiet building, no stakes, just existing in a blocky world with no drama.
I load it up on the TV, start a new world, lean back into the cushions, and let the familiar music wash over me.
Remy comes out a few minutes later, a cheeky grin on his face, wearing one of my baggy hoodies that hits mid-thigh on him, boxers peeking out underneath. He looks ridiculous. He looks perfect.
I groan dramatically. “Sit your sexy ass down.”
He blushes hard, instantly, and drops onto the couch beside me. “Christ.”
I grin wider.
He frowns. “Where’s my controller?”
“In the stand,” I say, nodding toward the shelf.
He gasps, mock-offended. “What, you couldn’t be bothered to pick mine up? Rude.”
I shake my head, laughing. “You’re an idiot.”
He grabs his controller, slouches down next to me, shoulder pressed to mine, legs tangled, and sighs happily. “Feels like so long since we’ve played this.”
It does, feels like forever since we were just… us. No tension, no secrets, just two idiots building stupid houses and dying to creepers.
We start simple… punch trees, craft tools, wander around the spawn area like we don’t know every inch of the world already. Remy finds a village almost immediately, raids the blacksmith chest, and starts yelling when he pulls out iron armour.
“Look at this shit! Iron leggings! Cole, I’m set!”
I laugh. “You’re gonna die in five minutes and lose it all.”
“Bet.”
We build a shitty starter base, dirt walls… because why not. Remy insists on adding a “fancy” window, two glass panes he stole from the village. I die to a skeleton while trying to light a torch. He laughs so hard he almost drops his controller.
“Nice one.”
“Shut up.”
He gets lost in a mine, wanders too deep, panics when the torches run out, and starts screaming about zombies. I’m dying laughing on the couch while he frantically tries to dig his way out.
“I’m gonna starve! Cole… help!”
“You found diamonds though.”
“I don’t care about diamonds if I die!”
He escapes, barely, low on hunger. I’m wheezing.
We spend the rest of the in-game day chopping trees, mining coal, and arguing about where to put the crafting table… “Right here!” “No, over there!” It’s stupid, perfect, and us.
Remy stands up. “I need a pee.”
He sets his controller down and heads to the bathroom.
I wait until the door clicks shut. Then I move fast, craft a sign, and type out carefully:
‘Will you be my boyfriend?’
I slap it on the wall above his character’s bed, heart suddenly pounding. I bite my lip, anticipation burning through me. I can’t wait to see his face blush pink again.
He comes back a minute later, grabs his controller, and slouches down. We keep playing… chopping more trees, arguing about the roof slope… until night falls in-game.
Remy stretches. “Let’s go to bed.”
He clicks his character toward the bed. I clear my throat and follow him in-game. He stares at his half of the screen, character unmoving. I watch his face, eyes widening, cheeks flushing fast.
I nudge him gently with an elbow. “Well?”
Remy’s controller slips from his fingers and falls onto the couch cushions.
His face ignites, instant red from neck to hairline.
He turns fast and buries himself against my robe, hiding completely, forehead pressed to my chest like he can disappear into the fabric.
I laugh fondly, and slide my hand up his back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.
He nods against me, quickly, still hiding.
“Is that a yes?” I murmur, voice teasing but gentle.
A muffled sound, barely audible, slips out. “Yes.”
I grin, chest warm. “Get up.”
He shakes his head stubbornly, arms tightening around my waist like he’s anchoring himself there.
I chuckle, leaning down to speak against his hair. “Wow… my own boyfriend won’t even give me a kiss.”
He squeaks, embarrassed, then peeks up slowly, cheeks still flaming, eyes wide and shy. For a second he just stares, like he’s testing if this is allowed, if I really mean it. “Is this real?”
I nod. “Yeah. It’s real.”
He stares for a second, eyes shining, then brings his face to mine, lips crashing together. I kiss him back, deep and slow, hands sliding up to cup his face. He smiles into it, small and shy.
I laugh against his mouth. “There’s a skeleton in our house.”
He pulls back fast, like it’s vandalism. “What?!”
He grabs his controller, spins back to the screen, and starts swinging, panicked and laughing, while I watch him, grinning so hard my face hurts.
Every few minutes I reach over and stroke his thigh, just because I can now, because he’s mine, and he lets me.