Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
He works quick, I’ll give him that. He’s got a hand between us, stroking my cock. It’s surprisingly gentle. I push my hips up, urging him on.
“Is that all you got?”
We haven’t even turned the lights out and his smile is bright as he keeps working slowly.
“Trash talk and dirty talk are different things. You know that, right?”
“Not with me they aren’t,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. Now that we’re on firmer emotional ground, I’m ready to play.
He laughs. “Whatever you say, Zed.”
I flinch internally at the nickname. I got over my dislike for it years ago.
But right now, it reminds me that once upon a time we were boys lying awake in our shared room the night before a junior race and Austin asked, “What do you think it’s like to kiss a girl?
” and my answer was “I’ve only ever thought about kissing boys. ”
We aren’t those boys anymore.
“Call me something else,” I say. “Only for tonight.”
He looks up from where he was about to put my dick in his mouth. My timing is terrible, but I need some ground rules to stay comfortable.
“Bear,” he says with a smile, then he flicks his tongue over my slit, making me groan, more from the sensation than the name. He’s called me Bear before—short for my last name, Berard—but it’s never stuck the way Zed did. For tonight, it’ll do.
He sucks me down, his mouth hot and slick. My dick in Austin’s mouth is not where I thought my night was going as I picked snow out of my ears after my fall in the final, but we’ll see who the winner is tonight.
I’m so wound up from everything, it only takes a minute or two before my balls tingle and draw up, getting ready to shoot like a skier in the starting gate.
“Stop,” I say, putting a hand on the back of Austin’s head.
It can’t be over yet. I pull out of his mouth, and a trail of saliva spills over his chin.
When he goes to wipe it away, I sit up and catch his mouth with mine.
It’s messy. Sloppy. The trail becomes a smear, and I swipe my tongue over it.
Austin whines. Slowly, I climb up the mattress until I’m leaning against the headboard.
Austin follows, crawling like a predator, which only turns me on more.
He straddles my hips, and his cock, long and curving slightly upward, bobs in invitation.
I’ve seen it before, of course. We gave up on being shy about nudity pretty quickly as our winters on the race circuit got bigger and busier.
Shared rooms and tight race schedules don’t leave much space for modesty.
But his dick has never been this close and begging for me.
I eye him for a second, thinking about sucking him off now until he comes.
He clearly wants it, and I’d find it very satisfying.
Coming first isn’t always a winning tactic, after all.
“Bear,” he says softly, bumping the smooth head of his dick against my lips.
I open for him. He’s leaking already as he slides over my tongue.
He tastes salty and the musk of his groin fills my nose.
He’s everywhere. All around me. I don’t even have to do anything.
Just hold still and keep my tongue flat as he pumps closer and closer until he finally hits the back of my throat and I gag.
“Sorry. Sorry.” In a second, Austin slips free of my mouth, bending down to kiss me like he still wants to make it all better. His concern makes me laugh.
“I should probably admit that all the times we talked about blow jobs and how awesome I am at them, particularly when it comes to receiving, I was maybe exaggerating,” I say.
It didn’t seem important at the time. Who hasn’t talked up their bedroom prowess when hanging out with the guys?
I didn’t think it would ever become relevant to real life, or that I’d have to prove my supposedly legendary lack of a gag reflex to my best friend.
But Austin settles back on his heels, kissing me some more.
It’s nice. A little weird. He’s so familiar and this is all so new.
I run a finger over his collarbone, then past the freckles on his shoulder that I’ve seen a thousand times on a thousand summer days.
A thousand afternoons at the gym. I kiss them, then work my way down his biceps and to the crease of his elbow, which makes him jerk, pulling his arm away.
“Ticklish?” I ask.
“No.” But the curve of his mouth says otherwise. I bite my lower lip, thinking about my next move. He watches me, and his nostrils flare when he finally realizes where my train of thought is headed. “Don’t you dare.”
Too late. I grab him, flipping him over as I run my fingers over his sides, under his armpits and into that same sensitive spot at his elbow. He’s always been ticklish, but it’s not something I really took advantage of after middle school. Tonight, though . . .
“Stop,” he says, squirming and laughing as he tries to get away.
“You sure?” I ask. I add my mouth back into the equation, kissing between his nipples while my fingers keep up their exploration.
“Yes. No. Oh god, Bear.”
The name feels good. Right. Zed is a friend. A teammate. Bear is someone else. Someone more.
We still, breathing hard as we lie face to face. Austin arranges his expression into something I haven’t seen before.
“This is enough,” he says, brushing slow circles over my thigh. It’s not tickling, exactly. More like a desire to stay connected. “If this is all we do tonight, I’m okay with that.”
Unfinished blow jobs and tickle fights? I can do way better than that.
“And if I were someone else?” I ask. “If you’d come back here with someone from the bar? What would you do then?”
His fingers still. I don’t push. We’re not great at doing things slowly, but if that’s what he wants tonight, I will do my best to go along with it. Might jerk off in the bathroom later, but I’ll behave.
Still, I nearly weep with relief as Austin clears his throat before he says, “I’d get whoever it was to fuck me. Maybe more than once.”
I nod, my body getting hot all over again at the idea of Austin riding my dick. Of the sounds he’ll make and the sensation of him sliding around me.
“So we’ll do that.”
He blinks a few times, mouth falling slightly open.
“We don’t have to.”
But I want to. So much, in fact. Now that he’s lying here, splayed out and willing, it seems impossible we’ve never done this before.
He’s so beautiful. Toned muscles undulate under his skin.
Also, there’s a tattoo of an orange cat with laser beams for eyes splayed out over one hip.
He got it for his eighteenth birthday and I gave him so much shit for it, but now I can’t help the way my mouth curls up at the corner as I study it.
A tiny helpless city smoulders beneath the cat’s attack and a helicopter circles overhead. Absurd chaos, like Austin himself.
Leaving him on the bed is torture, but I need reinforcements. I dig through the kit on the bathroom sink until I find what I’m looking for. When I get back, Austin’s taken my spot on the headboard, lazily stroking himself as he watches me approach.
I hold up the condom between two fingers.
“I’m on PrEP, and I know you are too, but I’m not doing this without some backup.”
His mouth quirks up. We tell each other everything. If there was even a fraction of a chance Austin had any kind of STI, he’d have said so. But I’ve got rules, and best friend or not, some rules can’t be broken.
Our gazes lock for a moment. Austin licks his lips and swallows hard, before he gets up on his knees, presenting his ass and giving it a saucy wiggle in my direction.
“Is this okay?” he asks, sounding like a child eager to please. But there’s nothing childish about him. Not the muscles or the tattoo or the thick penis that hangs between his legs. He’s all man and he’s in my bed.
Time to get what we came here for.
The small bottle of lube makes an embarrassing spattering sound as I squeeze it over his hole. Austin giggles.
“Excuse you,” he says. His laughter makes his ass shake and the lube dribbles over his taint and balls. I bite my lip to keep from laughing too. This is supposed to be a big deal. Serious.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me you still laugh at fart jokes. What are you? Eight?”
“Fart jokes are hilarious at every age. They’re—” Whatever he was about to say next is cut off on a gasp as I slide a finger inside him.
His groan crackles all the way to my balls.
How have we never done this before? Why did we wait for breathless confessions?
As I work him open, moving quickly to add a second finger, he presses his mouth into the mattress and tangles his fingers into his hair.
He’s so responsive. Every touch, every thrust of my fingers has him moaning.
I’d could say it’s because I know him. Know what he likes.
Or that I’m a master of the delicate art of anal exploration.
The truth is, there’s a strong chance he can feel the way my hand is shaking, even from inside his ass, and a little vibration is never bad.
My heart still hammers so hard it’s loud in my ears, and my throat is dry.
When I push in a third finger, his whole body rolls with pleasure, before he takes over, fucking himself against my hand.
“Jesus, Ze—Bear,” he says, sounding breathy.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, I’ll come like this. ”
I would be happy with that. Everything that’s happened so far is even better than I could have imagined. But I told him we’d do it, and I want him to be happy too.
I smack his ass. I don’t even know if it’s something he likes, but hopefully the sting will distract him long enough for me to get the condom on. My fingers shake and slip as I fumble with the latex. These things are always such a pain. It takes me a second to slide it down.