Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
PERCY
The light glaring in my eyes is a sure sign that the nap I agreed to after Butch gave me the two best orgasms of my life turned into a full night’s sleep. His arm is slung over me with the full weight of his unconsciousness. His breathing is deep and even, punctuated by the occasional soft snore.
What the hell am I supposed to do here? He suggested a nap, he didn't invite me to stay the whole night in his bed. It might be awkward when he wakes up and realizes I’m still here.
And whatever happened last night, we’re definitely not at the stage where I want him to know what my morning breath smells like.
I shift away from him slowly, inching myself towards the side of the bed, letting the covers slip away and holding my breath against every creak of the bedsprings until I can swing my legs over the edge and put my feet on the floor.
The shock of the cold wood and the chill in the bedroom almost make me want to climb back into the cozy cocoon of Butch’s body heat.
I stand next to the bed, nibbling on my lower lip, watching him sleep for a minute.
The fact that I’m standing here in broad daylight, completely naked, knowing he could open his eyes at any second is a testament to how much last night did for my confidence. How much Butch did for my confidence.
My insides heat with the memory of his mouth on my cock, the hungry, sloppy sounds he made as he sucked me like my dick was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
I could get so hung up on him if I let myself.
But I’m still not convinced that last night was anything other than scratching an itch for him.
And, surprisingly, I really don’t want what happened to ruin things at the gym.
If I misread things or if I let myself get carried away with this crush, it might make things so awkward that I’ll have to stop going to Sweat.
And, yeah, there are plenty of other gyms in the neighborhood, but I know myself.
Without this big oaf and his distractingly sexy encouragement, I’ll never stick with it.
I sigh. It’s decided—I need to play it cool.
I keep one eye on Butch and tiptoe down to the foot of the bed, gathering my scattered clothes and pulling them on carefully.
His breathing doesn’t change, his mountainous chest rising and falling in the same peaceful rhythm as he clutches his pillow now instead of me.
I rake my fingers through my hair, doing my best to tame it, then quietly slip out of his bedroom. If I’m lucky, Fender spent the night—
“Do my eyes deceive me or is that our sweet little Rocky doing the walk of shame from Butch’s bedroom?” Fender gasps dramatically like he’s the heroine in a period drama, utterly scandalized by grown adults having sex.
I wince and my shoulders sag. So much for a quick escape.
Fender is leaning over the kitchen counter with a wide, shit-eating grin on his face.
He’s not wearing anything on top, and as he starts to come around the counter, I pray that he’s not fully naked.
Not necessarily because I have a problem with nudity, but I really don’t think anyone should be balls out in a kitchen.
If we don’t have rules, we don’t have a society.
Luckily, he’s wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants.
He steps into the living room with a steaming mug in hand and that smirk still plastered to his face, looking me up and down like he can see every filthy thing Butch did to me last night.
I don’t flinch away from his gaze though.
If anything, I stand a little taller, wanting Butch’s desire for me to be written all over every inch of my skin for anyone to see.
Even if it was a one-time thing, he still wanted me, he still chose me, and that means something.
“Jealous?” I ask lightly.
“Jealous?” Fender snorts a laugh into his coffee.
“Why would I have set you up last night if I wanted either of you for myself?” He arches an eyebrow, and his grin softens a little.
“I’m just delighted to see that my skillful orchestration worked.
I’m such a sucker for a good opposites attract trope.
And a jock-nerd pairing? Swoon city.” He fans himself.
“Uh, what?” I’m sure I’ve heard Juno spout some of that same gibberish, so I’m betting Fender is a fan of gay romance books too. But he doesn’t explain himself, he just sips his coffee again and keeps smiling at me. “Okay, well, I’m just going to…”
I gesture vaguely and then make my way over to the front door where I left my shoes last night. As I’m slipping them on, the creaking of a door echoes through the apartment.
“Oh goodie, Butch is up,” Fender announces with unrestrained delight.
Damn.
I eye the door. Should I dive through it with only one shoe on before Butch can—
“Rocky? Are you taking off?”
I grimace and look over at him, my breath catching when my eyes land on him.
He clearly bolted out of bed in a hurry.
His hair is sticking up on one side, his eyelids are still drooping like he’s fighting sleep, and he’s completely naked.
Even soft, his cock is big, sticking to one thigh, probably from the remnants of cum I didn’t manage to lick off of him before we fell asleep.
My heart thunders and all I can do is stare.
BUTCH
Percy looks like a deer in the headlights with one shoe on and the other in his hand, staring at me like he’s trying to decide whether he should make a run for it or not.
Shit, did I screw something up? I run through last night in my head and, nope, I can’t think of anything that was less than perfect.
“Yeah, Rocky, you taking off?” Fender says in a teasing tone, then takes an obnoxiously noisy sip of his coffee.
“Don’t burn your tongue, dude,” I mutter, and he gives me the finger.
“Uh, well…” Percy looks at the door, then back at me, fiddling with the lace of the shoe in his hand.
“You were still asleep, so I figured I should get out of your way. Plus, I have a paper I really need to start this weekend for my Developmental Anthro class. And Juno’s probably wondering why I didn’t come home last night.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re seconds away from filing a missing person’s report.
” He glances down at my naked body again, blushes, then forces his eyes to my face.
“Oh? Do you not have many sleepovers?” Fender purrs.
“Seriously, man, don’t make me hurt you,” I threaten lightly.
“Bring it on, Bubba. I’m always up for a good spar.” He winks and cracks his knuckles, and Percy inches a step closer to the door.
Should I let him go? It feels wrong to let him go.
I wanted to make him coffee and talk him into going for a jog together.
I wanted to see where his head is at this morning without Fender breathing down our necks.
I love my roommate, and I totally owe him one for that setup last night, but I’d love him more if he would take his coffee to his bedroom and leave us the hell alone for a few minutes.
“How about a jog before you head home? No better way to start the morning than to get the blood flowing. It’ll really get your brain in gear to write that paper.
” I can hear myself slipping into personal trainer mode, but maybe that’s a good thing.
Percy’s shoulders relax and he stops fidgeting with his shoelace, his eyes dropping to my cock before he quickly drags them back up to my face.
“This obsession with fitness is alarmingly cultish,” he says, but there’s a small smile starting to form on his lips.
“Is that a no?”
He looks down at his clothes, the ones he put on yesterday when he thought he was coming over for a party—a polo shirt and jeans.
“I don’t exactly have workout clothes with me.”
“I have something you can wear,” Fender pipes up. Okay, fine, I do love my roomie.
Percy nibbles on his lip for a second, then finally nods. “Okay, fine. A quick jog in the direction of my apartment.”
I resist the victory whoop that wants to burst out of my chest and settle for a smile.
Fender sets his coffee down and leaves us alone to go find Percy something to wear. Percy slips off the one shoe he has on and sets them back down near the door, then turns to me with a shy look in his eyes. I move across the room so I can talk to him quietly without Fender listening in.
“Should I read anything into the fact that you were trying to get the hell out of here before I woke up?” I ask in a low voice, leaning my shoulder against the wall and looking down at him, studying his face for any sign that I’m coming on too strong.
But it’s impossible to tell. He’s just as sweet and guarded as he always is, looking at me like he wants to lick me and also like he might run away if given half a chance.
“No, last night was great. Really, it was…” He trails off with a breathy laugh as a blush creeps into his cheeks. “Are you going to put on pants at any point? Because it’s really hard to have this conversation while I’m distracted.”
I chuckle. Distraction is a good thing, right? If my naked body is distracting, it must mean he wants me.
“It was a great night,” I say, ignoring his other question.
We stare at each other for another few seconds, neither of us saying anything. Is he trying to work out how to let me down gently?
“Here you go.” Fender comes back into the living room with a pair of joggers and a T-shirt in his outstretched hand.
Percy takes them and heads into my bedroom to get changed.
“You’re welcome,” Fender says smugly as soon as the door clicks shut behind Percy.
I roll my eyes. “Thanks for that idiotic setup last night, I owe you one. But you have to tone it down before you scare him away.”
“So few people appreciate my charm.” He sighs and picks his coffee up for a sip. “This whole thing has me dying to write a new jock-nerd fic.”
“I’m going to pretend you won’t be imagining me and Percy hooking up while you do that.”
Fender shrugs and smirks at me over the rim of his mug. “If that’s a load-bearing cope, then by all means.”
Percy steps out of the bedroom a minute later dressed in Fender’s clothes. They’re a little loose, but nothing that should cause a problem during a short jog. When he’s done, I dip into my room to get dressed, quickly pulling on a jock, a pair of joggers, and a T-shirt.
“Here.” I hold my hand out for his clothes, which he’s got balled up in his fist when I step back out into the living room.
He hands them over and I shove them into the drawstring backpack I have hanging by the door, then loop it over my shoulders before putting my shoes on.
“I really can’t believe you’re getting me to jog before I’ve even had coffee,” he says as we step out of the apartment and make our way down the stairs.
“Jogging is a better wake-up than coffee. You’ll see.”
“There’s no way that’s not a lie.” He shakes his head and follows me out onto the street.
We stand off to the side for a minute, both stretching our hamstrings and our calves. It’s early enough that it’s still quiet, almost no one on the street and only a few cars driving by.
“And it’s cold,” he grumbles.
“It won’t be cold once we get moving.”
“Are you always this annoyingly optimistic in the morning or am I just grumpy from lack of caffeine and bad sleep?”
I stop stretching and look at him with a frown. “You didn’t sleep well?”
I hate the idea of him lying awake, uncomfortable or restless while I was having one of the best nights’ sleep of my life. He looks away and I notice the twitch of a smile on his lips.
“No, I slept amazing, actually. It must be the caffeine thing. Either that or you really are annoying.” His smile gets bigger with the teasing comment, and I grin right back at him.
“Keep up with me for two laps around the block and then back to your apartment, and I’ll DoorDash a fancy coffee to your place so you’ll be all caffeinated and ready to write that paper.”
“Now there’s the kind of motivation I’m looking for.” He rolls his shoulders and bounces from one foot to the other, pumping his arms like he’s warming them up for the jog. “Let’s do this.”