7. Haze
7
HAZE
I can see the anxiety filling Imry’s eyes when I look at him. I stare, unsure what to make of it.
Over the last six months, he’s let down his confident shell around me. Not that I’ve seen anything particularly noteworthy as far as anxiety or insecurity or whatever is concerned. But there’s a certain demeanor that Imry always has. A confidence that can’t be shaken. The way he’s always looking over Avory, Ellory, and Loren especially.
It’s not that I’d ever think he was boring, but when we’re texting, I’ve been given a glimpse into the type of personality Imry keeps private. He’s chattier, funny, loves a good laugh. He’s creative and has a quick sense of humor.
What I’ve never gotten from him is this . The angst in his eyes. He knows he was a dick. We don’t need to talk about it. Not right now, anyway.
Still, I need something . I need a fucking explanation. Is he going to run and ghost me again once we’re finished fucking? Quite frankly, I’m not interested in that game.
Yet, I’m not going to force him to talk. At least, not right now when my dick is throbbing angrily. I press my mouth to his, biting his lip hard, and grind my dick almost painfully against his. Imry grunts.
But he relaxes. His fingers dig into my arms before trailing down my back to yank up my shirt. We spend the next few minutes dry fucking each other as we roll around on the bed, ripping each other’s clothes off. I’m pretty sure I hear a seam or two rip. We’re not careful in the least.
I’m on my back when we finally manage to get naked. Imry sits up and reaches for the nightstand drawer before looking around the room. Probably realizing we’re not at his house.
“Yes,” I tell him. “In there.”
He pulls the drawer open and tosses a condom onto my chest while he fishes around for the lube. Hmm. It might be in the other nightstand. Nope. He’s found it.
I clumsily open the condom as he shoves my knees toward my shoulders to stretch my ass. There’s a part of me that wants to turn him over and fuck him this time. Let him feel how fucking irritating he’s been this past week. Make sure he understands it’s not fucking okay.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to this. God, I’ve dreamed of his cock in my ass again. The way he fucks me. I’m not going to pretend I’m well-versed in sex. I’ve spent far too long hiding my sexuality to protect my peace at home, which meant hookups were not as easy to come by as I might have otherwise experienced.
I’ve had enough to know Imry and I just hit on a different level. I get it. I’m twenty-two and not a porn star who’s fucked hundreds of people already. There’s a world of different fucking to experience yet. Somehow, I have a feeling I’ve hit something magical with Imry. A note that we have in common without having to discuss it.
While he gets me ready, I awkwardly attempt to get the condom on his cock. At this angle, I think I look like I’m fucking spasming. I finally manage and then let myself collapse back while he finishes. It doesn’t feel like he’s particularly focused on the stretching aspect as much as he is lube. Which is completely fine.
By the time he’s finished, I feel flushed and breathless. I’m ready now . I sit up, shoving him onto his back. Imry lands with an oof as I climb on top of him. With my hand in the middle of his chest to keep him there and brace myself, I reach between my legs and pull his dick upright to sink down on him.
I groan, long and low, as I work myself onto his dick. Imry gasps, his hips rolling slightly as I bring him deeper. His hands land on my thighs.
“Better than I remember,” Imry moans.
I meet his eyes and for a second, we’re the only two people who exist in the entire world. He holds my stare, buried to his balls inside of me. His fingers move softly over my leg as if he’s silently trying to tell me something.
The moment ends when he leans forward and grips my ass cheeks. He shifts under me, diggings his heels into the bed, and begins fucking me with force.
I’m immediately lost in a sea of pleasure. My body is completely inundated with his grunts, the slapping of our bodies, and the endless pounding. Keeping my balance is impossible, so I lean over him, letting him take me entirely under his control as he fucks me brutally.
It’s hard, intense, and consuming. My dick wags like an excited dog’s tail—if a dog’s tail wagged up and down. It slaps my stomach, flinging pearls of pre-cum like a leaky faucet. The sounds I make are loud even to my own ears. High and whiny, filled with so much fucking pleasure, I think I might explode.
My orgasm builds and hovers. I don’t want this fucking to end. It feels too good. Far too good. But it’s right there. I can’t hold it off for much longer. I’m ready to lose my mind. Too good.
“Imry,” I whimper in warning. He’s about to get fucking sprayed.
I’m not sure how, but this man manages to pound my ass harder. He hits my prostate with every thrust, slamming into it to the point where it’s nearly painful. My entire body becomes consumed by an orgasm that rocks me.
My cries sound choked, like I’m crying, but holy fuck, I might have had my first whole body orgasm. I swear, I can feel that shit in my toes. My scalp tingles. It rushes along my spine like fingertips.
Imry buries himself deep inside of me, and I feel his cock pulsing. I clench my ass and he gasps. “Yes,” he hisses. “Fuck, Haze. You’re going to squeeze it off.”
I try to grin, but I’m far too lost in the heady feeling of pleasure.
The room falls silent, save for our heavy breathing. I hover over him, my eyelids drooped, until my body loses all strength, and I allow myself to topple over beside him. I roll until I’m on my back and close my eyes.
My heart races so rapidly that I can feel it against my sternum. It feels like someone is using one of those big drumsticks with the big puff of felt on the end and slamming it into my chest. My lungs can’t get enough air.
It takes a while until I feel like my body rights itself again. Now I don’t move as I wait for Imry to get up and leave without a word. Minutes pass. Lots of minutes.
Eventually, I turn my head. He’s right where I left him. On his back, eyes closed, soft dick still barely hanging on to the used condom.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” I note.
He sighs and I’m pretty sure I see him sag a little. “I’m sorry, Haze,” he murmurs.
I nod. Well… that clears it up.
Imry’s eyes open, but he stares at the ceiling. “I was in a six-year relationship that ended kind of abruptly and… not in a good way,” he says quietly. “It’s been just over two years now, and I still feel a little broken. Day to day, it’s easy not to think about it because I’m surrounded by my family, work, life. I guess…”
He trails off. A minute passes and he doesn’t speak. He inhales deeply, holding it, and I wonder if he’s trying not to become too emotional. Is me watching him making him feel put on the spot? Should I roll back over again?
His breath comes out slowly. “I guess you’re just complicating what should have been a hookup?”
“I’m complicating it?” I ask indignantly.
He laughs. “Sorry. I didn’t say that right. You being tied so closely with my family makes it complicated. I like you. You’re a good guy. I like to think we’re friends. I like how we get along and we can laugh and… It’s been a lot of fun. But that’s the problem. I like you. You’re exactly the kind of situation that’s going to fuck with the pieces of me that are already broken and… vulnerable, I guess. Not because you’re intentionally going to do anything, but because I’m just… I’m not…”
Imry shakes his head. He covers his face with his hands for a second before rubbing them over his skin and dropping them back to his sides. I try not to smirk when I see how much I’ve fucking sprayed him with my cum. Yeah, that’s sexy.
“Anyway, I’m really, really sorry about last week. I needed a day to process and work through what I realized was probably a mistake. We crossed a line, and I was internally freaking out about it. But that day turned into multiple days where I hadn’t responded, and… I wasn’t sure how to fix it at that point. A text was far less than you deserved, but I’m a coward and couldn’t just drive my ass to your house to apologize, knowing I was going to have to explain and really not wanting to talk about it.”
“So… now what? You going to ignore me for another week?” I ask.
He winces. His eyes flicker to mine. “No. I mean, there’s a good chance I might tomorrow, but no. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a big asshole to you. I mean that.”
I study his face. I don’t have to know this man on a deeply personal level to know he just shared something very personal and difficult. It might not excuse him ghosting me because that’s one of the stupidest, lamest, and most cowardice actions this generation has fucking come up with, but…
“Okay,” I say.
Imry sits up. He rubs the back of his neck before getting to his feet and disappearing into the bathroom. When he returns, he sits back on the edge of the bed without a word. I think he wants to leave, but I wonder if maybe he needs something else.
“Come here, Imry.”
He glances over his shoulder at me before falling back onto the bed.
“Don’t overthink this, okay?”
Imry gives me a wary look but doesn’t object. I pull him toward me and wrap him in my arms. His entire body stiffens.
“I just told you not to overthink this,” I remind him.
He lets his breath out in a rush.
“I’m sorry someone hurt you. That’s shitty.”
He sighs.
“For the record, we are friends. And this doesn’t have to be complicated. It can end here, or we can fuck some more. You don’t need to overthink that, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know how horrible ghosting you must have felt. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“All right.”
“You’re not going to forgive me, are you?”
I smirk. “What makes you think I haven’t?”
“Because you keep saying ‘ okay ’ or ‘ all right .’ Not ‘I forgive you, Imry. You’re still a saint and a sexy master of innuendoes.’ I can hear the difference.”
I snort laughter. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
I’m surprised when he snuggles further into my chest and finally relaxes entirely. I like that he’s a good bit smaller than me. Not just shorter, but thinner, too. He’s not hard and lean, but there’s definition there. I love his slightly softer middle without all the lines of someone who constantly works on their abs.
Like me. That might be because self-consciousness lingers. My brothers commented on Oren’s physique often enough that I became slightly obsessed with keeping myself trim and fit. I haven’t gotten out of that habit.
I’m further surprised when Imry falls asleep in my arms. I hadn’t thought he would. Maybe I smile when I realize he’s already asleep and maybe fall asleep with that smile.
I’m not surprised when I open my eyes in the morning and I’m alone. That’s completely and totally expected. There’s a chance of more conversation in the morning, and who wants that awkward morning-after discussion?
I lay there for a few minutes before I force myself to sit up. I need a shower. There are club germs on me and sweat and lube in my ass. Ew .
First, I fish around the discarded clothing on the floor until I can find my phone. I click the screen on to see how the battery fared last night without a charge and find a text message from Imry. Huh. Now that is unexpected.
Imry
Yes, I ran again before you woke up. You’re probably not shocked at this point. This sexy indifference you usually see is sometimes a facade. Thanks for being so understanding last night. And for not pushing me away at the club, which I definitely deserved. And for the fuck. Especially for the fuck.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
Leaving the message on the screen, I set my phone on the charger and head into the bathroom to take a shower. His text runs through my mind like an old-school screensaver.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, but I think about what he told me last night. I know one thing for certain: I’m not interested in complicated. I like Imry. Yes, we’ve had fun together, both via text and in bed.
But this last week and then last night have given me a glimpse into something I’m not sure I want to be a part of. Maybe it makes me a dick, but I don’t want the task of healing a broken boy. I’m just not at that place in my life.
That’s my right, though. Isn’t it? So why does it make me feel like I’m a bad person for not wanting to be with someone who’s just told me he has some baggage he’s not even worked through yet? Someone who’s just shown me how heavy that baggage is when one sordid fuck made him ghost me for nine days.
Ignoring a difficult situation is not the answer to anything.
Maybe it’s my turn to tell him the truth. We need to go back to just being friends. I can’t be what he needs, and he’s not what I want right now.
The thought of those words makes my stomach churn, and I have a feeling I’m going to come across as more of an asshole than he did. Maybe I don’t need to say anything at all. We’re simply just not going to hook up again. I can make that happen without getting into why.
Besides, he’s given me enough to make a very good argument as to why it won’t.
Just friends. That’s what we’re doing here. From this moment forward, Imry and I are just friends.