16. CONNOR
SIXTEEN
CONNOR
Okay, I could get used to cuddling. It’s like a warm blanket and a lot more comfortable than it probably looks.
Somehow throughout the night, we became a tangled pile of limbs, and now, as I’m slowly waking from a coma of the best sleep I’ve had in a long while, I’m on my side, one arm over Parker’s chest and my top leg in between his. He’s on his back, but his lower half is turned toward me with his leg over my hip.
Last night, I wasn’t so sure I was ready for more than kissing. Kissing him has been like an out-of-body experience, as if I’m watching myself do it instead of experiencing it. I wanted to keep kissing him, but I also didn’t want to push because I wasn’t sure how much further I could go.
This morning though, as I feel his morning wood against my thigh, I want more than kissing.
He’s still sleeping though, and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me rubbing up against him, but damn , it’s difficult not to. I’m just as hard, and if he were awake, I’m sure he could feel it too.
The thing is, while kissing him, both times , they weren’t long enough for me to get hard over it. I liked it, it felt nice—not anything different than kissing a woman—but I think I was too in my head both times to really think about taking it further. The urge to kiss him was strong, but it didn’t have a chance to go beyond that.
Right now, all I can think about is how hard my dick is, and it’s more than only morning wood.
It’s being cuddled up to Parker all night. Holding him. Being pressed against him. I’m not sure if it’s Parker-specific or man-specific, but I’m also trying to tell myself that I need to take this one step at a time. One runaway thought before another.
Maybe I don’t need to focus on the questions at the moment or ask myself how long I’ve been repressing a potential attraction to men. It doesn’t matter how or why, and I don’t need to question it. At least, not yet. I’m sure a shrink will have a good ol’ time telling me how the responsibilities that were put on me as a child made me repress a whole bunch of shit about me, but that’s for future Connor to deal with.
Because it doesn’t matter. Not in a big-picture kind of way.
Bottom line is I want to kiss Parker Duchene. Holy fuck, that’s the weirdest sentence I’ve ever thought of, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
I want to kiss him and … get off with him. However that might happen. Not going to lie, the thought of giving him a blowjob scares me more than anything, but I could probably handle touching him. Stroking his cock like I would if it were my own.
My hand shakes at the thought. I can’t tell if it’s because I want to do it, if it’s out of nervousness, or maybe it’s a bit of both.
I want him to wake up, damn it.
I shift, moving my mouth closer to his, but I don’t kiss him. My breath is on his cheek, and it twitches, but he still doesn’t open his eyes .
I run my nose up his jawline and whisper in his ear, “Parker?”
His eyes flutter, and then he’s staring at me with a cute scrunch in his brow until it’s like he remembered last night and what I’m doing here.
“You stayed.”
“Turns out I’m really good at this cuddling thing.”
“You are. I don’t think I woke up at all last night.”
“I was thinking …” My lips skim over the spot below his ear. He trembles in my arms, and his hard cock digging into me only gets harder. “I’m really good at the whole kissing thing too.”
He rasps, “You are.”
“I’m wondering what else I might be good at.”
Parker freezes. “W-what were you thinking?”
I have no idea. “I, uh … All I know is I’m horny.”
“I can relate.” His hips roll, and as our bodies grind together, I can feel a wet patch between us. Not a huge amount, but enough precum to soak through his sleep shorts. The coldness of it against my thigh sets the rest of me on fire. “Do you know what you want to do?” he asks.
“Come,” I say. “I … I, uh, might be okay with handjobs? Maybe?”
He smiles. “You sound so confident about that.”
“I’m really, really not.”
Parker’s hand runs from the top of my shoulder and down my chest. His light fingertips make my skin break out in goose bumps. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“That’s the thing though. How do I know what I’m comfortable with and what I’m not? I do know I want to kiss you, and I want to come.”
He blinks at me. And then blinks at me some more, and I get self-conscious.
“Is … is that not how this works? Like did I just use some ga y code word for wanting to be hog-tied and fucked or something?”
He snaps out of whatever he was stuck on and lets out a small laugh. “That works good for me. Perfect even. But when you said those words, I had a weird flashback to high school and how I never thought someone like you could ever say something like that to me. I almost want to invent a time machine so I can go back and high-five myself. I’m working through my shock, that’s all.”
I can breathe again. “Okay, good to know.”
“Don’t you know all the queer lingo from your brother and best friend?”
Uhhh, if there was ever a topic to make my dick deflate, that would be it. “Not really. It’s something we don’t talk about.”
His lips flatten. “Can I ask why?”
“I don’t know. No, wait, I do know. Because I thought not talking about it would be more comfortable for me. With East, I was worried about his career, so he didn’t care to hear what I had to say about it, and with Knox, he never really came out to me. There wasn’t this moment where he said he was into dudes. He used to bring guys back to our place when we roomed together in college, but it was like an unspoken rule that we didn’t talk about it. I didn’t want to pry, and he wasn’t open about it. I recently found out it’s because he thought I’d assume he had a thing for my little brother—which he did—and he didn’t want to ruin our friendship that way.”
“Okay, I’m starting to understand more about why you’ve been completely oblivious that you might not be entirely straight.”
Not entirely straight … Is that a label I could consider for myself? It certainly fits with how I’m currently feeling.
“What do you mean?”
“Statistically, if there’s one queer sibling, there’s usually more. People think it has to do with queer being genetic or what-the-fuck-ever, but I’ve always bought into the theory that when you grow up in an environment where you’re free to live your true self, you’re more likely to explore that side of you and come out—should that side of you exist. With you telling East that being queer will ruin his career and your friend too scared to come out to you, it’s no wonder you never thought about it for yourself. You were too busy thinking your best friend was closeted and your brother’s future was ruined. Why did you think Easton’s career would suffer?”
“Because I know how to read the comment section on Pride night posts,” I say flippantly. It’s true, but I also know it goes deeper than that. “When all of East’s issues with me being too overbearing and protective of him came up, I had thought it came from our parents. They said I always had to look out for him and protect him. I guess … I took that as protecting him from the negative comments and everything that’s said online about the guys in that Queer Collective of his. I took it to a whole new level and built it up in my head. It’s one of those things where I thought I was doing the right thing but might have gone overboard. It’s been hard to take that step back from East, to let him live his life, but I know I need to squash that side of me down.”
“I don’t think you need to squash it down,” Parker says.
“I don’t?”
He licks his lips. “Nope. You just need to focus your overprotective possessiveness elsewhere.”
Parker pushes up and rolls us so I’m now on my back and he’s straddling my waist. While my dick had a small break because of an uncomfortable conversation, the second Parker’s presses against mine, it wants back in on the action.
The notion that he’s a man and not a woman isn’t even a factor as I look up at his face. He was clean-shaven yesterday but now holds a rough stubble. I cup his cheek and run my thumb over it. I’d expect it to feel weird or different, but it’s as natural as it would be with anyone else .
He turns his head and kisses the tip of my thumb. “If you want to stop at any time, let me know. You don’t have to touch me or do anything you don’t want to, but if you did want to, I won’t stop you.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“I’m going to give you what you asked for. Kissing and coming.”
I want to ask how, but he doesn’t let me get it out. He crashes his mouth to mine as he shifts on top of me to slide down a bit.
This time, with his mouth on mine, I can feel everything, get lost in it all, and finally turn off my overthinky brain. I’m able to enjoy every stroke of his tongue, his taste on my lips, and sink into it.
And when he grinds against me? It only adds to the hotness of it.
My hands reflexively grip his ass as he moves, and I meet every rotation of his hips with my own.
Fucking hell, this might break me. It’s like he’s everywhere. All over me.
The hardness of his cock against mine has me leaking in my boxer briefs, and I suddenly wish they were gone. I want to feel his skin against mine.
Without thinking, I move my hands down to the waistband of my underwear and shove them down roughly.
Parker breaks his mouth away from mine. “ Yes .” He lifts up, discards his shirt, and then lowers his sleep shorts, where he’s going commando.
I only get a quick glimpse of his cock, but it looks as desperate as I feel. The large mushroom head is red with a dribble of precum coming from his slit.
Then he’s back on me again, and I get that skin on skin.
It’s sticky between us, and I can’t tell who’s leaking more. Me or him.
We go back to how we were, him moving on top of me, me gripping his ass and using his body for leverage as I thrust upward. But this time, his head rests next to mine, cheek to cheek, while he puts his forehead on the pillow.
My brain fuzzes over as the need for release climbs. Higher and higher, I get closer and closer. I don’t think I’ve ever come like this, except maybe when I was a teenager, but if he keeps going, there’s no way I’ll be able to hold back.
It’s so … different. So much more intense.
“Fuck, Connor.”
The deep sound of his voice makes me needy for more. Like the reminder of who I’m doing this with heightens everything.
Parker shudders, and I think he’s as close as I am. My grip tightens on his ass cheeks, and each time our bodies come together, it gets harder and more frantic.
We’re both breathing rapidly, and when he moans, I’m pushed over the edge.
I grit my teeth through my orgasm, the mess spilling between our bodies, and a few thrusts later, Parker joins me.
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Fuck.”
He gets sweary when he comes, apparently.
He throws his head back, and the vein in his neck pulses in time with his heartbeat. Parker’s still riding out his orgasm when I come down from mine, and I watch as his eyes glass over, like he’s spaced out.
He’s so goddamn sexy like this, and I had no idea I could even have that opinion about another man.
This is probably where I’m supposed to panic. Where I’ll assume that if everyone found out about me, our family, the team, and anyone else in our circle could be ridiculed. I should be worried about that, but I’m not.
The only thing I’m thinking about is how mad I am that I didn’t know this about myself sooner.