Eli #5
“What?” he asked, a sleepiness coming back into his voice, and I knew that if I stayed quiet, he would finally drift off to sleep.
Sure, he would still be pressed up against me, and his goddamn hard dick would still be there, but he wouldn’t be telling me more.
I could pretend none of that ever happened, and bury the night's revelations in a deep, dark pit in my head, occasionally smacking it back down when it tried to come to the surface.
It was probably the smartest thing I could do because I was out of my depth and risking finding out more than I should know. ..again.
“You know...got off about that...thing...me,” I managed to stammer, not even sure if that was a conscious decision because some traitor was living in my head and finally taking its chance to betray me.
“Not for a while,” he admitted, and my eyes widened when he ground lightly against me.
Was that just mindless shifting, or was he getting off grinding his dick against me?
I really needed to stop him.
“But you have...before,” I continued with inward cursing.
The only solace I could take from the absolute mess was that I was stone cold sober, which meant that, despite feeling the cut-off point for the conversation should have been long before, there had to be enough of my functioning, responsible brain cells left in working order to cut things off if they definitely went too far.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed. “Just another gay guy with a major crush on a straight guy. A song as old as time, really.”
“And, you know...your stepbrother,” I said, wincing and hoping that didn’t trigger his awareness.
He sighed heavily. “I know that. I’ve thought about it too. Sometimes I feel really bad because c’mon, we’re supposed to treat each other like brothers, right?”
“I understand what you mean,” I said, not quite agreeing with him.
A little voice whispered from the shadows of my head, reminding me that he had always been cagey about calling me his brother when he never hesitated to use it for Mason, Arlo, or Dom.
Of course, I had to remind that voice that I hadn’t called Milo my brother, there was always that ‘step’ thrown in.
..and I tended to correct people when they called him my brother.
So, I had to ask that little voice, whatever you’re trying to say about him, maybe consider how it reflects on us.
“And I guess sometimes the stepbrother thing doesn’t matter to me, and then it does matter, but sometimes it matters because it’s.
..wrong. Not like totally wrong, right? But wrong enough to make something that’s already hot even hotter,” he said.
I recognized the devil-may-care attitude he adopted whenever he was pushed to decide if something questionable was a good idea, but still sounded like a blast. “But it’s really just.. .extra flavor at that point.”
“Extra flavor?” I wondered, unable to help laughing at the phrasing.
“I mean, you’re already fucking hot as hell, hottest person I’ve ever known if I’m gonna be telling the truth like I am right now,” he answered, making me wonder just how much self-awareness there was in those little confessions.
“It always used to drive me crazy when those girls you were interested in were like...not interested. Like damn, bitch, how the fuck can’t you see what’s right in front of you?
The man is fine as fuck, a ride or die kind of person who’s always going to have your back and make sure you’re okay, and you’re second-guessing yourself?
Stupid. You take that fine piece of ass and you run with it. ”
“Fine...piece of ass,” I repeated, now finding it difficult not to burst into laughter.
The only other person who’d said something like that was Eva.
She’d never been shy about expressing herself or her attraction to me, which, if I were honest, had been one of the reasons she and I had gotten along sexually.
Having a partner who openly expressed their interest in you, and their enjoyment, was apparently a rare commodity but a thoroughly enjoyable one.
Well, a couple of girls had done it before, but they’d been drunk, like Milo.
Like him, they had probably thought it before they’d been drunk, but the booze gave them the courage to say it aloud.
..like Milo right now. Except it was still different.
Despite being entirely thrown off balance by the whole thing and wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do with that information, I still had confidence in how well I knew Milo.
I’d bet good money that if he hadn’t been so put off by our.
.. unique circumstances, he would probably be just as expressive and open sober as he was while several sheets to the wind.
“Yeah, but don’t like...hold it against me,” he said, and my attention was jerked back to the moment when I felt his hand slide off my hip and onto.
..my groin. “Bad enough you went and ended up hot as hell, even worse that you had to go and be an awesome person. Fucking stupid that I’m the one who can see it and I can’t do anything about it. ”
I said nothing because I froze as I felt him trying to do something about it.
My arm, the one not pinned under his body anyway, tensed as I felt his fingers through the thin material of my shorts.
Hell, I’d had condoms that deadened sensation more than these shorts, and I could feel his fingertips as they sought and then found my dick.
Eyes wide, I glanced at Milo; his eyes were still closed, but there was a slight quirk to his lips as he gently stroked me with two fingers.
My arm flexed again, and I twitched to reach over and stop him before things got out of control, before realizing through the jumble of thoughts and confusing sensations that I could feel his fingers pushing against my dick with more force.
No...wait...that wasn’t it.
My dick was the one doing the pushing.
I was getting hard.
Okay, so...I had always tried to be open-minded to the idea of more than just heterosexuality.
Which, considering how many of our family had some form of same sex attraction, was completely normal.
However, being open-minded wasn’t the same as being exposed to what you’re open about, and I’d never tried anything with another guy.
The thought had occurred to me before, of course, and it wasn’t like I didn’t go club hopping with Milo and get hit on.
But having the thought briefly flash through my mind and then disappear with ease was completely different than having a guy, Milo of all goddamn people, with his hand on my dick and my dick. ..responding.
So I could only lie there, thankful that Milo was too drunk to realize I had frozen in confusion, but also knowing that his intoxicated state was precisely why that was happening in the first place.
All I could do was lie there and feel myself stiffen further under his touch.
Even more alarming was the fact that he had shifted in his haze, and now I could feel the presence of his already hard dick pressing into the palm of my pinned hand.
I knew full well I possessed the sobriety and presence of mind to put a stop to everything.
I was the sober one and in control of my faculties, and it wasn’t like Milo was being aggressive.
God, he would probably recoil the moment I made him aware of what was going on.
So what I needed was to find a way to put an end to it without it going too far and without freaking him out.
Yet I found my fingers closing over the imprint of his bulge, and a hot zing shot through me when I heard his breath catch, followed by the softest sound.
Oh, Jesus, if I thought I’d been getting hard before, I could now feel my cock practically shoving against his hand.
The entire situation made zero sense, and I couldn’t think straight, but apparently, my dick was fully on board.
Which begged several questions I was nowhere near the right state of mind to think about, let alone find the answers.
I forced myself to breathe and echoed the command to relax.
The palm of his hand was pushing against my shaft, fingers curling to slide under the band of my shorts, and my fingers were still wrapped around his hard-on.
I was definitely participating with a degree of enthusiasm and.
..well, it was a little difficult to deny that my body was fully engaged.
So I was participating, confused and uncomfortable with the whole thing, but I was participating of my own accord and not being coaxed into it by someone else.
Of course, it was with another guy, which was new but not alarming.
But it was with Milo, which was...uncomfortable.
I didn’t know if it was because we were supposed to be stepbrothers, because we had never even come close to altering our relationship in such a substantial way.
Of course, I knew that before, and it clearly hadn’t stopped me from doing exactly what I was doing right now.
“Fuck,” Milo groaned beside me. I heard the sloppy tone of his breath, like ice sliding over my face.
He was drunker than hell, barely aware of being awake, let alone what he was doing. If he was going to do something like that, he needed to be fully in control. That was not something I could allow to continue and keep my conscience intact.
“Rude,” he whined pitifully when I pulled my arm out from under him and used my other to shove his hand between our bodies.
He quit fussing almost immediately when I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and drew him closer.
Yes, I could still feel how hard he was, and even more disconcerting was the fact that my hard-on didn’t flag the moment it was no longer being stroked.
I suppose some part of me might have wondered if it was just a case of being a young, horny guy who had just been sexually touched, so of course, my dick had responded.
So much for that theory.
“Get some sleep,” I told him. “You can tell me more later.”
“Mmm, good idea,” he murmured, and I tried not to tense when he burrowed his face into the crook of my neck and sighed happily. “I’m pretty drunk.”
“You are,” I said, trying to figure out how to feel about his presence now I knew there was more to his touches than I’d suspected.
Then again, maybe that was just one of many reasons he’d kept the truth from me.
He didn’t worry about a lot, but he worried about how the people he cared about viewed him, even as he desperately tried to pretend the opposite.
The more he cared about a person, the more wary he was about upsetting them, or accidentally ‘forcing’ them to think of him differently.
With no ego, I knew of all the people on that list, my name would be right at the top.
So maybe he kept it to himself because he had feelings for his straight best friend, who was his stepbrother.
There was obviously conflict, including part of him that apparently enjoyed the slight taboo.
But he also kept it to himself because he wouldn’t want me to treat him any differently, because he wouldn’t want me to look at every touch and wonder if it was because he wanted to sleep with me.
I would definitely be thinking about tonight for a long time, but I could at least try not to treat him differently. I would need to become an expert in that before I talked to him about what was said and done tonight...that was if I even decided to do that.
I didn’t know how to feel about...everything.
I didn’t know what it meant that he had kept something that big from me, and I didn’t know what it meant that I wasn’t actually bothered by it, just confused.
I didn’t know what it meant that I was comfortable with the knowledge, or how he would react if I ever told him what had happened.
And I definitely didn’t know how to feel about how I had reacted, including that I was only now starting to go soft.
The one thing I did know, though, was that I would not be able to sleep tonight.