32. Hotaru
“Back up, Kido!” Coach barks and pulls me away from the mat. “You’ve already won your rounds.”
He’s right. I’m hunched over, level with the current wrestlers tangled in a cradle attempt and the simple low defense against it. My hands and feet are moving like it’s my bout.
“Don’t get us disqualified,” Nate warns to my right, where he and the rest of our team cheer on our guy who’s seconds away from ending the match, two to zero.
I’m amped in a way I don’t quite understand. My opponents were beasts, and my matches weren’t foregone conclusions, but I won.
The fifty-seven-kilo guys are the smallest in weight class and are often the most exciting to watch. They weigh as much as my right leg. They have damn near zero percent body fat. They are fast and scrappy as hell.
I read the shift a split second before he makes it, flipping and cradling his opponent in a fraction of a second.
The ref blows the whistle.
Willoughby Ridge sweeps the meet.
Screams erupt from the stands.
I run onto the mat, grab Jentry Colbard by the waist, and lift him onto my shoulder. His face is split with a huge smile, and his fists are in the air. I’m tackled from behind a second later, but I don’t fall to the ground. We’re surrounded by our team.
Sweaty bodies jump against me, jostling us. I punch the air with my fist and feel like we’ve won the damn championship.
We’re only three tournaments into the season. It’s going freaking well, though. We swept our last tourney too.
“Holy shit, Jent! That was awesome,” someone hollers.
“Hota!” another teammate screams in my face and pounds his fists against my chest.
I scream my delight. I’m on top of a mountain.
And then I look into the stands.
Arlo is on his feet. His head is craned in a hoot. He claps, his thick arms flying through the air with a strength I need around me. My mouth waters, and my dick goes hard in my singlet.
It’s been a couple of months since Miss Booth came inside my room in more ways than one. Since then, nothing.
We sleep in the same bed every night. We eat together. We work out together, do homework, and play footy together. And that’s it.
Henry, another bigger guy on the team, grabs Jent from me and puts him on his shoulders. Coach is shaking players by the shoulders and smacking their cheeks in celebration.
I’ve waited and waited for Arlo to stay in bed one day and take care of his insistent morning, afternoon, or evening wood.
Every day, I’ve been disappointed.
Maybe that’s why I’m amped and ready to toss guys like I haven’t had practice every day this week and a tournament.
“Fucking amazing!” Nate clamps a hand on my nape and jostles me about.
“Yeah, it is!” I holler back over the energetic crowd.
“You’re vying for my captain's position,” he says into my ear, so I can hear.
“Am not! I don’t want it!” I shake my head.
“You don’t?” he bellows. His brow arches. “I know how much you like control.”
Warmth spreads through my body, despite the pep talk I’ve had with myself every day for the last two and a half months since Arlo suggested what he suggested.
“Only in certain situations.” I swallow.
My gaze swings back to Arlo in the stands, and curiosity gets the better of me.
Will Arlo come out of his shell with Nate between us?
I look Nate in the eyes, my smile falling from my face. He goes stony and serious too. His grip on my neck tightens.
My voice is strong and steady. “Come by this evening if you’re willing to fully submit.”
Nate’s Adam’s apple bobs, and he nods.
We part and join in the revelry that lasts far too long on the gym floor, and then down in the locker room. Everyone is amped. We hit the showers, change, and head up to the quad.
It’s too bad we can’t drink per the school code. This would be the perfect night for it. There’s a swell of people on the quad. It’s also too bad there aren’t any girls on campus. This would be the perfect night for that too. We’re all amped, even the guys who filtered down from their rooms and have no interest in wrestling or our win.
I sit on top of an outdoor table, brace my feet on the seat, and talk to a tenth-year about how he can improve his technique. Only because he’s asked incessantly. I’m not in the business of mentoring. Mostly, I know how much I still have to learn.
As the sun turns the day to night, I spy Arlo on the quad, talking to a group of guys we play football with on the weekends.
“He’s coming out of his shell, huh?” Nate says.
Since summer ended, Arlo has bloomed. He talks to people. Hell, he even has friends.
I nod, trying not to feel a certain way about it.
“It's good for him,” I remind myself aloud for the thousandth time, bracing my hands on my knees.
“Came from a shitty family, I heard,” Nate offers, taking a drink of whatever is in his cup.
“A great family. Mom. Dad. Brother.” I rub my hand over my face. “They died in a car accident and left him behind.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” I force my gaze away from him. Too much longing in my heart and skin. It’s like every part of me is its own entity, and each fucking one longs for Arlo’s touch, knowing none can have it.
Nate watches me too closely. He opens his mouth, I’m certain to ask something else about Arlo. The guy is hot as fuck and intriguing. Everything about him is interesting, from his face to his newfound swagger.
“A-levels are easy.” I interrupt his thoughts. “Last year, you said they were a bitch.” Technically, I don't have to take them since I want to go to college in the States. I just need the ACT or SAT. I’ll take both and finish my A-levels. I have to plan for every outcome. Arlo is too. Maybe it’s the control freaks in us.
“They are.” His expressive face crinkles. “Unless you’re a weirdo who likes taking tests.”
I shrug, not caring to talk about A-levels but also not willing to talk about Arlo anymore with Nate.
We talk about dumb stuff until he heads to get a refill. “You want one?”
“What is it?”
“Old Tom, Henry swiped from his parents, and soda water.” He tilts the cup toward me. “What do you say?”
A shiver runs through me. “I’d rather drink swamp water, but thanks.”
Nate laughs and heads off. I talk to a couple of other guys from the team, waiting for Arlo to make his way to me.
He doesn’t.
The longer I sit out here, the damper the air becomes and the more provoked I am. Before I ruin everyone’s night, I head for the dorm, not caring if Arlo comes home or if Nate shows up at all.
I toss my bag into the closet and then chuck myself onto my bed. We’ve been sleeping in Arlo’s since we started sleeping together again. I’m tempted to stay here tonight just to prove a point.
What point? I don’t know. That I don’t need him?
Ha!
The moment the thought enters my brain, my body goes cold and clammy. I dismiss it almost immediately.
Not five minutes pass of me staring at the ceiling before I hear Arlo enter his room. A minute, maybe two, goes by, and then he strides through my open doorway from our joined bathroom with a book in his hand.
“Amazing tournament.” He sits on his reading chair and opens the book to a dog-eared page.
I grunt noncommittally.
“Seems like you had a good time tonight,” he tries.
“Seems like you did too.” I try to keep the accusation out of my mouth, but it’s polluted.
“I did. It was nice to see you succeed.”
“Uh-huh.”
The book snapping closed reverberates around the room, tugging my eyes to Arlo. His jaw is set. His shoulders are back. “What’s wrong?”
I could tell him that I hate, fucking loathe, seeing him talk to other people. But I don’t. Not really. I am glad he’s making friends other than me. I don’t want him to be limited or lonely. I want him to flourish and get the most life has to offer.
I could tell him that I hate, fucking loathe the fact that he won’t touch me. But I don’t. Not really. I respect his boundaries. I understand he’s been hurt. Like I told him months ago, I will wait for him as long as it takes.
I could tell him that I hate, fucking loathe the fact that he wants Nate between us. But I don’t. Not really. It would be hot, fun even.
“You’re pushing me away, Arlo.”
He huffs a breath but has the decency not to deny it.
“It’s…I rely on you for too much,” he says, dragging his gaze down to the book in his lap as he does.
In a blink, I’m up, dangling my feet over the edge of the bed and facing him. “So?”
“It’s not fair to you,” he says, still not looking at me.
“I want to be everything you need,” I admit without shame.
“That’s not healthy for either of us.”
“You ate three rolls at dinner. Since when do you care about health?” That wins his gaze, along with a smirk and a shake of his head. “Seriously, who cares if it’s what works for us?”
“Does it work for you, though?” He squeezes the book, making the veins pop in his hands. His gaze is pleading. “I know how hard it is for me not to touch you, and I’m the one with the issues.”
He drags in a frantic breath. “Some days, I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t…”
I hang there, waiting for his words that don’t come.
“Don’t what?” I beg.
“I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, Hota.” He drops the book onto his lap, ignoring my pleas and trying to cover his thickening dick. “You’re so physical and sexual. I’m holding you back.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand. “I know I am, and I fucking hate it. I want you to be you, fully you. Not some part of yourself you’ve broken off just for me.”
I drop to my knees in front of him, leaving enough distance to assure him I’m not going to try to choke on his dick, though that’s what I’d love to do.
He smiles down at me, and my heart kicks.
“What if that’s what I want to be?” I run my hands down my pant-covered thighs. “I want to be whatever you need.”
“You are so much more. You are meant for so much more than that.” He fills his chest with air, testing the limits of his uniform jacket.
“I don’t want to be,” I whisper.
“But you are.”
I lay my head on the arm of the chair. Arlo’s fingers flex and inch close to my hair, but don’t touch me. His presence is enough. His words are enough. “Don’t push me away.”
“Even if it’s best for you?” His voice is quiet and contemplative.
“It’s not. It never will be.” I grip the chair so tight, the fabric groans under my hand.
A knock fractures our bubble.
“Expecting someone?”
“Yeah.” I straighten and look directly into his deep and haunted eyes. “I was getting desperate, and not for Nate.”
Will I get off tonight? Probably. Will I enjoy it? Hell yeah. Will it be enough? Not a chance.
Arlo nods.
I rise and head for the door, feeling more confident than I have in a long time.
When I open the door, Nate stands there tall in his slacks and button-down. He’s less fidgety than last time, though that was a long time ago.
I back up and allow him inside. He hurries in, not afraid that someone will see him, but with near hand ringing excitement.
His footsteps stop cold. “Arlo?”
“Hello, Nate.” My best friend removes the book from his lap, revealing a sizably full dick outline, and sets it on the small end table next to the chair.
“H…Hi.”
I close the door, lock it, then step behind Nate. “Hands behind your back, big boy.”
Nate’s head jerks around. His eyes are wide. His soft lips hang open.
“Unless you want to leave.” I let one shoulder bob. The throbbing in my pants negates the nonchalance of my expression.
“Oh fuck.” Nate’s large frame shivers. There’s no fear in it. His pupils are too big. His dick is too swollen for all that. And his hands shoot behind his back, crossing at the wrists.
“Your tie, Sir.” I hold my hand out toward Arlo.
Slowly, as though it's a study in seduction, he pulls the tie from his neck. He stands and moves toward me, his gaze hot on me. Then he flicks it to Nate and smiles. It’s sinister.
“Shit,” Nate huffs.
Arlo drops the tie into my hand, then returns to his chair. He shucks his jacket as he goes, revealing the V of his back discernible even under the cloth of his shirt.
I swallow and grab Nate’s wrists in one hand. With the other, I wind the fabric around and through, creating a secure hold. “If you want to stop at any point, say red. If your mouth is otherwise occupied, tap my thigh three times. If you say red or tap out, everything stops immediately. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Nate nods several times as though I can’t hear.
“Good,” I whisper into his ear, then lick a line from his collar to his lobe. He groans. “You’re here to give me control over your pleasure, Nate, and also your pain.” I snag the sensitive flesh between my teeth.
His knees give out for only a moment before coming back online. He groans and nods for a second before he realizes it pulls on his already trapped lobe.
“Yes”—he gulps—“I want this.”
“Very good.” I wander slowly to his front and grab his shoulder. I angle him to give Arlo a clear view and square him up to me. Unlike last time, I don’t think I can look at Arlo and fuck with Nate. It’s somehow too intimate.
Nate’s gaze jumps from me to Arlo and back several times.
“You don’t speak unless you are spoken to. Unless you’re telling me how much you like it,” I tell him before he asks some inane question about Arlo being in the room or us being together.
Nate nods.
My fingers slide from his shoulders to the top button of his shirt. “I’m sure you’re wondering. Is this a gang bang? Can you handle double penetration?”
His pretty amber eyes go wide.
I chuckle. “I’m kidding.”
One by one, I unfasten Nate’s shirt and open it wide. We’re in the same weight class now, but his body is softer than mine and way softer than Arlo’s. I like it. There’s no comparison between the two. They are a sweet breeze and a storm. A smattering of hair covers his chest, forming a path to his pants.
My mouth waters, but I don’t bite his nipple like I want to. I let my hand trail over his collarbone and down over his heavy pecs. “Arlo is off-limits. You can look. You can’t touch, and he won’t touch you.”
I skim my hand over his belly. It gives just a little. I want to sink my fingers into it and hold on tight. But there’s something else to sink them into.
“I will.” I cup him through his pants. His dick pulses against my touch. He’s long and girthy.
“Fuck yes.” Nate’s breath hisses over my neck as he bends at the waist.
“That’s not very descriptive, Nate.” I tsk and shift to remove my hand.
“Your hand feels so fucking good.” He straightens, pressing his dick against my palm to maintain contact.
“I haven’t even done anything.” I chuckle.
“I…I’ve thought about you touching me…for a long time, Hota.” Nate’s brow crinkles, and his lips thin, trying and failing to hold in a moan.
My fingers tighten around his shaft in reward. “What about Arlo? Have you thought about him touching you?”
“Fuck.” Nate jacks his hips into my hand, and I let him. “Yes.” He’s heavy and rock-hard. There’s a slight curve to his dick. It kicks up toward the sky. I’ve seen it before but never touched it.
“I have. Not as long, though.” His jaw quivers. “I just thought he hated me.”
“Do you think he hates you now?” I bend low and bite his nipple.
“No! Oh, shit. Yes. Please.” Nate gets lost in a string of words that hardly make sense. They go on until I release my hold on him completely.
He heaves breaths and looks longingly at my hands and mouth but stays dutifully silent.
“You’re a fast learner, Nate.”
“Yes, Sir.” He licks his lips and nods.
I let my gaze fall to his crotch. “Unfasten your pants.”
Nate moves, trying to obey, but he can’t, of course. I’m good at tying knots. His eyes go wide. He tries again. Again, nothing happens.
“Oh, that’s right. You can’t,” I whisper.
A broken moan whines between his lips.
I toss a look over my shoulder. “What do you think, Arlo? Should I help him out?”
“Yes,” he barks quickly.
I’m more surprised that Arlo answered than I am that I lower myself to my knees in front of Nate.
“Let’s see here.” I stare at his gold belt buckle and the plush leather winding through it. I wouldn’t be shocked if it was made of real gold. Nate’s family is in real estate all over the world. “I don’t know how one of these fancy belts works.”
Nate opens his mouth to speak until I furrow just one brow. He snaps his mouth shut.
The drug of power rushes through my veins, making my head swim.
“Good boy,” I purr. “I’ll see if I can figure it out.”
I slide my hand up his dick from base to tip and back again, searching for a way in. Like I couldn’t have his wet tip bobbing in front of my nose in a fraction of a second.
My smile is obscene.
“Hmm.” I toy with his fat head, making it leak and soaking the front of his pants. I fumble with the gold buckle while I tease him.
“Unfasten his pants,” Arlo snaps behind me.
“Oooh, someone is impatient.” I chuckle to Nate, then spare a glance at Arlo. His hands are fists by his sides, and his brow is sweaty, like he’s the one who wrestled earlier this evening. I send a pointed look toward his tenting crotch. “You first.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.
“Suit yourself.” I lean forward and run my lips up Nate’s covered length. Both guys whimper. Knowing I made them do that makes me feel as tall as the building. “I’m not undoing his belt until you undo yours,” I growl against Nate’s dick.
A whine reverberates up his throat, and his hot flesh jumps under my lips. I kiss his tip, then drag my teeth across his sensitive, pant-covered flesh.
I hear the rasp of a belt and the sing of a zipper behind me.
Triumph buoys me. “Tell me how nice Arlo is, Nate.”
“Jesus fucking hell.” Nate blurts as though all the words were pent-up and on the tip of his tongue. “Arlo, you’re so fucking great. I’m…Thank you. Fuck yeah. Oh my God, your fucking cock is…shit.”
He has to be talking about Arlo’s brick of a dick because mine is firmly wedged in my pants, dying a slow death.
“What is it, Nate? His cock is?” I snap the clasp on Nate’s belt and slowly work down his zipper.
“It’s light, almost pink, and fuck.” He heaves a breath. “It’s long, really long and fat.”
I slide Nate’s pants down around his hips and then drag the waistband of his boxers across his length. Once more, both men whimper. It feels like a stroke to my needy dick.
“Tell me about the tip.” My fingers grip Nate at the base.
He releases an unintelligible set of sounds. His hips rock, seeking friction, searching for release.
“Hold still, Nate, or I’ll stop.”
It’s like a game of freeze tag, and Nate’s it. He goes static, save for the blood pulsing wildly in the veins of his heavy dick.
“The tip, Nate.”
“Oh fuck.” He whines as though he can’t possibly remain motionless and tell me about Arlo’s perfect appendage.
Honestly, I fucking get it.
“Okay, yeah.” Nate gulps a breath. “It’s?—”
“What is it, Nate?” I stroke him once. “Don’t make me guess. Tell me in detail.”
“Yes.” He nods frantically and tries to transfer the movement to his hips but stills when I growl. “His cock head is…” He moans outright. “It’s like the fattest mushroom. It’s darker than the rest of his fucking huge cock. It’s dark pink, almost red. And it’s covered in clear precum.”
“Fuck,” Arlo growls.
I stroke Nate a few more times and hold his dick still so he can see. “Kind of like yours?”
His gaze finds his leaking head, which is nearly purple with blood flow. “Fuck yes.” A shiver runs through him. “Hota, what are you doing to me? I swear I’m about to come, and you’ve barely touched me.”
My grin tells him of the mischief to come. I lean forward and swipe my tongue over his wet tip. His salty and slick moisture coats my tastebuds, and I drink it down.
“Jesus, I’ve dreamed of your mouth.” Nate’s thighs quake.
Behind us, Arlo makes a desperate sound. It’s music to my fucking ears.
I hold Nate’s base and plunge him to the back of my throat, wishing beyond measure that it was Arlo’s fat dick and blunt head prodding my esophagus.
“Fucking, oh my God, Hota!” Nate’s voice is loud and carries. It’s a definitive sign he’s let down his guard and given me total control.
I suck him to the tip and drive him back in several times. His breath goes choppy, and his hips pump in time with me.
“Not yet.” I pop off his length and warn.
“Yes, Sir.” He whines and nods while still trying to pump his hips.
“Still.”
“Yes. Oh shit.” The determination it takes for him to call himself back from the edge is written all over his face.
“Good.” I stand and unfasten my pants. “On your knees.”
Nate drops so fast it’s like I’m giving him a gift. Maybe I am. After all, he’s submitting so well.
I brace my feet wide, shove my pants and underwear below my hips, and palm the base of my dick. “Open up.”
The dark pink of Nate’s tongue lolls out as soon as his lips part.
“Good boy.” I slap my tip on his tongue several times. He tries to catch it, but I pull it away. I shift my feet so Arlo has a clear picture of what’s about to happen. “Whine if you want my dick.”
More than one person whines inside the room.
I don’t look at Arlo as I plunge my hips forward and guide my length inside Nate’s hot mouth. He moans around me. The vibrations shoot straight to my balls.
This isn’t the first time Nate has sucked me off, but it is the most turned on I’ve ever been. I feel like a bolt of lightning seeking ground. My hand wraps into his hair, still a little long from summer. I pump into his wet mouth, ready to blow. But I can’t. Not yet.
“Arlo?” My gaze swings to him. He has his cock in his hand and his thumb over his tip as though trying his damnedest not to shoot his load.
“Huh?” He croaks.
“Untie Nate’s hands,” I order, pulling out enough that the guy in question can breathe. His tongue bathes my tip, while he waits for me to fuck his mouth some more. My toes curl, and the nape of my neck tingles.
“What?” Arlo’s gaze goes wide.
“Unless you want to jerk him off, untie his hands so he can do it himself,” I add bite to my demand. I want Arlo close when I come. I want to be looking into his eyes, and I want him to look into mine when he comes.
He tries to stuff his dick back into his pants.
“Leave it out,” I bark as I shove mine back in the hot and ready mouth.
Nate slurps my length and sucks me tight. I cup his jaw, urging him to relax it, while I watch Arlo hurry to Nate’s back with his weeping dick hanging out.
I work shallowly, while Arlo carefully grips the tie only and pulls apart my knot. “Good,” I purr at him.
He straightens and stares at me, or more accurately at my dick, where it disappears into Nate’s mouth.
“Ready to take me deep?” I ask Nate while looking at Arlo.
“Mmm.” Nate swallows me all the way into his throat. I palm the back of his head and gently grind my hips against his lips, soaking up the feel of his hot throat around me. Then I pull out to let him grab oxygen.
He’s back before I ask, sucking me deep.
“Grab your heavy dick and pump it hard and fast,” I say to Nate while my gaze eats up Arlo, commanding him to comply as well.
Nate mumbles expletives around my dick while he slurps and sucks me from root to tip. He grips his length and shuttles his hand up and down the flesh as though he’s in a race.
I lift my gaze to Arlo, who’s standing behind Nate, in front of me, dazed.
I pull my dick from Nate’s mouth. His hand stalls on his ready length. I lean over, grab the collar of his shirt, and peel it off his shoulders and down his arms. He shakes it off his wrists and tosses it to the side.
The moment I straighten, he grips my hips and gobbles my dick up like it’s his last meal. I let the breach of control slide because I’m glaring at Arlo and his helpless expression. “If you don’t come, this never happens again.”
Nate’s right hand falls from my hip and finds his smooth shaft, eager to comply. I grip his head and work my length in and out of his greedy mouth.
Noises leave my lips that I haven’t made in far too long.
Arlo fists his cock and works it frantically, his hand moving in time with my hips. I imagine I’m fucking his mouth, which isn’t fair to Nate, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He’s mindless with grunts and desire.
I pull from his lips and fist my dick. “Come,” I demand as pleasure races down my spine, draws my balls tight, and shoots hot cum up my shaft. I decorate Nate’s chest while Arlo whimpers and sprays his back. Nate comes in his hands. “Fuck yes, oh my God, this is the best day of my fucking life.”
I smirk at Arlo. It’s not terrible.