Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN_
CONFESSIONS
Lucky had seen that expression on Winnie’s face before.
It was the look of the besotted, of Winston falling in love.
It was the way he gazed at Lucky sometimes when he thought Lucky wasn’t paying attention.
Like Lucky might melt into a puddle of nothingness if Winston aimed his love directly at him.
He might have been right.
Even now, Lucky didn’t feel worthy of it.
Of either of them. Winston was about to graduate, and Lucky was pretending that he wasn’t failing miserably.
And Calvin was a fucking robot who could talk about any subject with knowledge and confidence.
Who would always look amazing in a skirt.
Who didn’t have to worry about things like his shitty father or disappointing the love of his life.
He stretched Calvin’s ass with four fingers, fucking into him with half his hand even though he knew that Calvin wasn’t going to come. He wasn’t wired quite like a person where an orgasm built and built until its eventual eruption.
Lucky’s arm was going to fall off long before Calvin ever came.
“How much of my arm do you think I could fit in his ass?”
“Actually,” Calvin started to say, but stopped.
“It’s rhetorical, Cal,” Winnie said, his voice strained.
Calvin looked over his shoulder at Lucky. “Why don’t you find out?”
He wiggled his ass, and Lucky smacked it with his free hand, a sharp blow to the cheek.
It felt almost like a real ass. The skin rippled the way it should, but there was an unnatural firmness underneath that reminded Lucky that Calvin’s bones were made of metal.
That his brain was made of wires and chips and not soft tissue.
That he couldn’t be more different from him and Winston.
But in those chips and wires, a person had emerged. One who had things in common with Lucky and Winston. One who had his own desires and needs.
“Maybe I will,” he said as he folded his thumb into the palm of his hand and pressed deeper.
He watched the way Calvin’s hole stretched to accommodate him.
His own cock twitched and wept with neglect.
He’d ditched his pants before climbing into bed, and now a drop of precum beaded on the tip of his cock before running down the side, making Lucky shiver with need.
The ring of muscle-like silicone gave way and Lucky’s fist slid into Calvin’s ass. Calvin let out a human-sounding gasp.
“Fuck, he’s so tight, Winnie.”
Winston moaned and writhed beneath Calvin. Winston’s hands appeared on the cheeks of Calvin’s ass, both to pull him open and to give Winston the leverage to chase his release.
“Lucky,” Winston moaned.
Lucky loved the way his name sounded on Winston’s lips, especially when he was out of his head with pleasure. “Lucky, please.”
“What do you need, Winnie?”
“Please, someone fuck me,” Winston whined again.
Lucky smoothed his free hand down Calvin’s back.
“You heard him, Cal. Winnie needs you.” Lucky kept still while Calvin repositioned himself, rolling Winston’s ass up so he could slide inside.
Winston cried out as Calvin filled him. Lucky grabbed Winston’s hand with his one free one and bent down, dragging a kiss across his knuckles.
Winston held tight to Lucky’s hand after.
His other he’d tangled in Calvin’s hair again.
Lucky was beginning to doubt that Calvin was going to come or that he even could.
Maybe it was another aftermarket addition like the missing prostate.
Because if Lucky were the one with a hand in his ass and his dick sinking into Winnie’s perfect, tight heat, he’d have blown his load already.
Winston’s hand squeezed Lucky’s as he rocked beneath Calvin, who fucked himself back onto Lucky’s hand, then forward into Winston’s ass.
Another time Lucky might have decided to be greedy and switch places with Calvin, but right now he was too enamored with the way his hand slid in and out of his ass.
With the way Winnie sounded underneath being fucked into oblivion.
With the way he didn’t have to look Winston in the eyes and pretend he was okay.
The sounds Winston was making were ratcheting up in intensity.
Each whimper and cry made Lucky’s dick leak until he couldn’t take it anymore.
As careful as he could, he pulled his hand out of Calvin’s ass.
He palmed his erection, giving it a single stroke before sliding it into Calvin’s loose hole.
Upon entry, Calvin’s hole tightened up and squeezed Lucky’s cock.
Lucky leaned forward and, wrapping his arms around Calvin, he buried his face against Calvin’s back and pistoned his hips, fucking Calvin into Lucky with every thrust. Winston keened through his release.
Lucky knew he came. He knew Winston’s sounds.
He knew the way his body stiffened before the final release.
His own orgasm wasn’t far behind. It was the feeling of Winston’s fingers on his skin, dancing along the sheen of sweat, searching for a place to take hold, to anchor himself to Lucky, that had him coming.
Lucky’s orgasm slammed into him, whiting out his vision.
Stealing his breath, as he spilled his load deep in Calvin’s ass.
He hoped Calvin’s ass had a self-cleaning setting.
Spent, sated, and fucking exhausted, Lucky pulled out of Calvin and flopped face-down on the bed next to his lovers. He buried his face in his folded arms and tried to catch his breath.
The bed dipped as they shifted around next to him, then Winston’s familiar warmth and weight was pressed against him, half-draped over him as he snuggled up to Lucky’s prone form.
“I couldn’t make him come,” Lucky said, not too upset by the failure. It was just another in a long list.
“I assure you,” Calvin stroked his hand down Lucky’s leg. “That I enjoyed every minute of what we did.”
“But you didn’t come,” Lucky mumbled. His exhaustion was catching up to him. He’d been sleeping like shit. Up weird hours, lying awake in the darkness, pretending to sleep. Pretending a lot of things. Lucky was fucking tired.
“You can enjoy cake without eating the whole thing,” Calvin said. It was so absurd of a response that Lucky found himself turning his head, unburying it so he could see Calvin.
“Did you compare orgasms to cake?”
Calvin shrugged. “I merely wanted to point out that something can be enjoyed, even if it’s a part of a whole. I like what we do. I like the attention you pay me when I dress this way. I like making you feel good.”
Lucky had to bury his head again. He couldn’t take how fucking sweet and earnest Calvin was, and it just made him feel shitty that he couldn’t make him come. That he couldn’t graduate with Winnie like they were supposed to.
“Lucky?” Winston stroked his fingers through Lucky’s hair. “Lucky, what is it?”
“I’m fine. Just tired.” Lucky refused to look at Winston. If he did, he would break apart into a million tiny pieces.
“Lucky’s average rate of REM sleep has dropped dramatically these past two weeks.”
It wasn’t surprising at this point that Calvin had kept track of his sleeping stats. Hell, he probably knew how many breaths Lucky took in a day. How many times his heart beat. How many times he blinked.
“Lucky?”
Winston’s voice was soft and worried. Lucky could do a lot of things, but make Winston worry about him wasn’t one of them. He was too tired to put on a brave face. Too tired to fight anymore. Too tired to do anything but lie there and tell Winston the truth.
“I’m not graduating.” Lucky could barely get the words out past the lump in his throat. Swallowing around it made his throat feel like it was on fire. Like a rock of lava had lodged itself in his windpipe.
“What?”
Winston’s disbelief was a shot in the heart.
“I’m failing, Winnie. I’m failing shit, and I can’t catch up, and I’m not going to graduate with you.
Well, I am, because my dad paid the dean.
But he’s pissed, because that’s his standard setting.
I’ll have to work for him forever, and I hate that I can’t find a way out of it. I don’t know what to do.”
Winston shifted around, and Lucky found himself suddenly pillowed in Winston’s lap. He carded his fingers through Lucky’s hair.
“You don’t have to know what to do right now. Right now, you can rest.” Winston stroked his fingers down Lucky’s cheek. “Rest. Everything will look better after you’ve gotten some sleep.”
“Winnie, I know I let you down. I’m sorry.”
“Shh. Listen to me, Lucky. You haven’t disappointed me. And you can’t. Because I love you even when you struggle. I love you even when you’re not sleeping worth a shit. And I’ll still love you when you wake up. So sleep. Okay?”
Winston loved him. Lucky had told him he was failing and wouldn’t graduate and that his dad was pissed, and Winston’s response had been to declare his love and use it to manipulate him into taking a nap.
On another day, Lucky might have celebrated the love declaration by pinning Winston to the bed and fucking him blind. But today, he gave in and let the soothing motion of Winston’s fingers combing through the strands of his hair lull him to sleep.