Chapter 2 #2
By the time Ash’s erstwhile roommate made it back with the glass of juice, Ash had managed to tangle his boxer-clad self so deeply in his sheets he’d probably have to spend the whole semester in them. No way anyone was getting him out before then.
Ryder approached the bed, cocking his head as he stared down at Ash, all square-jawed and dark-eyed. “Hm.”
Ash huffed, settling back down into his mess of sheets and trying to look … alluring. “Hey, Ryder?”
Ryder immediately clocked Ash’s tone of voice.
He set the juice down on Ash’s bedside table and crossed his arms, widening his stance.
Maybe it was supposed to look intimidating, with the muscles and the tattoos and the buzz cut, but in Ash’s opinion, he just looked kinda hot.
Hot and annoyed, sure, but hot. The fact that there were people who kept their distance from Ryder because they thought he was scary was just further proof that people were idiots.
Ash widened his eyes in faux innocence. “You don’t wanna?”
Ryder shook his head. “You’re sick, bright eyes.”
Something in Ash warmed at the familiar nickname. Ryder only used it when it was just the two of them. It was disgustingly sweet. Ash should have put a stop to it a long time ago.
Not today though.
“I’m not sick. Or maybe I am. But I’m also …” Ash wriggled in his sheet tangle. “Kinda worked up.”
Ryder cocked a dark brow. “The nipple piercings?”
Ash frowned. “Just in general. It’s not just him.” He reached out a hand, gripping Ryder’s tattooed forearm. “You know that, right?”
Just like that, Ryder softened, taking a seat on the edge of Ash’s bed. “Yeah. I know.”
Of course he did. He always did. Other people may not get where Ash and Ryder stood, but they always knew where they stood with each other.
The thing was, as an unpresented dude almost in his twenties, defined relationships weren’t in the cards for Ash. There were too many unanswered questions, most of them out of his control.
Nobody knew what their pheromones would do after they presented, or who their instincts would tolerate. What if Ash presented as an alpha and he couldn’t stand the challenge of Ryder’s pheromones? What if he got aggressive during a rut and attacked the one person who had always been there for him?
There was too much still up in the air, too many pieces that didn’t fit together quite right. So Ash and Ryder lived together, and they loved each other with everything they had, and they occasionally … helped each other out, as it were.
And because Ash’s sex drive was low—which could be either how he was naturally or another aspect of his unpresented status—and since he wasn’t interested in tying anyone to him exclusively, Ryder was allowed to seek satisfaction elsewhere when the need struck him.
It had never bothered Ash. Not really. He didn’t have the possessive instincts Ryder had, and while he got twinges of jealousy, he also knew who Ryder came home to at the end of the day. They weren’t exactly boyfriends, but they’d reached a kind of stasis that worked for them.
But right now, Ash didn’t care about all that.
He just wanted Ryder’s hand on his goddamn dick.
So Ash did what he did best—he pushed.
“You like the nipple piercings too.”
Ryder huffed out an almost laugh. “Do I?”
“Ever since he got ’em, you look at his chest when you think no one’s watching. His ass too. I think you have a thing for it.”
Ryder took the bait. He lay on his side next to Ash, propping his head on his hand, his bicep flexing with the movement. “He does a lot of squats,” he said mildly.
“Mm. I know.” Ash slid a hand down his belly, under the waistband of his boxers. Ryder’s dark eyes followed the movement. “It’s hilarious, you having a crush on a gym bro.”
Ash wrapped a hand around his cock, gasping at his own touch, and Ryder’s eyes narrowed, the heavy-lidded look sending a tingle down Ash’s spine. Ash may not have been able to scent Ryder’s pheromones, but he could feel the air thickening with them.
God, he wished he could smell them.
“I use the gym,” Ryder said softly, his voice a low, husky rasp.
Ash let his hand glide to the tip of his cock, thumbing at the head. “You—mm—lift free weights at the garage. It’s different.”
Ryder smirked, even as his eyes went hot. “And you run like someone’s chasing you.”
Ash met his gaze head-on. “Someone is. You.”
Something close to a growl left Ryder’s throat, and then he was knocking Ash’s hand away. “I can do better.”
“Oh fuck.” Ash let out a sigh of relief as that cool, calloused hand wrapped around his dick. “I know you can.”
He let his eyes fall closed, grateful for best friends and big hands and hours upon hours of practice doing exactly this.
“Think he’d fuck us?”
At Ash’s mumbled words, Ryder’s hand paused.
Fuck. Ash had no idea where that question had come from. For one, Ash had never fully fucked anyone, and he and Ryder didn’t share. It just wasn’t how they worked. And for two, they didn’t talk about other people when … this kind of stuff was happening.
But after a moment, Ryder grunted, stroking Ash’s cock again with that perfect rhythm. “Think you wouldn’t like it if he did.”
Ash arched his hips up into Ryder’s touch. God, that felt nice. “Why not?”
“Fucking’s all he does.”
Meaning Spencer wouldn’t stay.
Because the alpha had a reputation, and it was a well-deserved one. No-strings banging, nothing more. He was always up-front about his limits, and people always grew attached anyway.
But that would be fine, wouldn’t it? If Ash and Ryder knew the score going in. Would they even want Spencer to stay? Just because he was gorgeous and funny and kind of a doofus in the way Ash liked best?
What would happen to their careful stasis then?
Ryder tightened his grip, speeding up his strokes, and all coherent thoughts fled Ash’s brain, lightning shooting up his spine. Ryder’s touch was just on the edge of punishing, but Ash fucking loved it, that hint of brutality that never went too far.
Ash panted and whined—or no, he moaned, because Ash didn’t whine—as that heat in his belly swirled higher and higher, hotter and hotter, until he was curling up over Ryder’s fist with a groan, shooting his release into Ryder’s waiting palm.
Oh fuck. He’d needed that.
Ash fell back, trying to catch his breath as Ryder grabbed a tissue, neatly cleaning them both up.
Ryder rose from the bed. “Take your nap.”
Ash frowned blearily up at him. “What about you?”
“I’m good.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Ash reached out, tugging at the hem of Ryder’s shirt. “No one else,” he said quickly. What the fuck? He immediately hastened to correct himself. “I just mean … not today. Okay?”
Ash didn’t know where that request came from any more than anything else he’d said or done today.
But Ryder only nodded, gently peeling Ash’s hand away from his shirt.
“No one else,” he said easily. “I was gonna jerk off in the shower, anyway.” He leaned in close, effortlessly untangling the sheets and tucking them up around Ash’s shoulders, and his voice when he spoke again was a low, husky whisper.
“Because you’re fucking gorgeous when you come, bright eyes. ”
Before Ash could decide whether to blush or tap him in the kidneys, Ryder straightened, his lips twitching at the corners. “I’ll come back and read in bed when I’m done.”
Ash couldn’t help his self-satisfied smirk as he nestled back into bed. Some of that weird mental fog had cleared with his orgasm, and he wasn’t feeling nearly as hot or tight-skinned anymore. A nap didn’t sound out of the realm of possibility either.
Ash would sleep. Ryder would read. And then they’d see what other trouble they could stir up before classes started again next week.
No doubt Ash would be back to normal by tomorrow.