Chapter 2
Jace has been dragging me into weird shit since the day we met.
Freshman orientation, we were both stuck in this sad little circle of future engineers, listening to some guy drone on about course loads and internships.
The second we got a break, Jace grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.
I know a place.” I didn’t even know his name yet. I just followed him.
That place turned out to be a tattoo shop.
I’d never considered getting one. The idea of needles anywhere near my skin makes my stomach turn.
I can’t even watch someone draw blood without going lightheaded.
But somehow, half an hour later, we were both sitting there with matching lightning bolts on our inner forearms.
The artist joked that we were stuck with each other for life now.
Jace threw his arm around my shoulders and said, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.
” I looked at my arm, at the little black bolt still red and swollen around the edges, and thought, what the fuck did I just do? I’d known this guy for two hours.
Then there was the cliff jumping. The ghost pepper challenge. The night we snuck into the abandoned asylum. Every insane, impulsive, borderline illegal thing I’ve done in the past two years has had Jace’s fingerprints all over it.
Getting Luca out of his shell. That’s what he calls it.
But none of those things involved whipping our dicks out.
We were never those guys who jerked off together to porn or compared sizes in the shower.
There was a line, I thought, between friends who get into trouble together and…
whatever this is. I always figured that line sat somewhere around being naked in front of each other.
Apparently, I was wrong.
I watch Jace wrap his hand around the base of his cock, guiding himself deeper through the glory hole, the purple light catching the lightning bolt on his inner forearm.
My stomach twists. I should leave. Give him some privacy.
Let him have his fun. But I can’t. My feet are rooted to the sticky floor.
“And?” I whisper. “Is anyone…?”
He shushes me. Leans his forehead against the partition. Then I hear it. A soft, muffled moan from the other side of the wall. Wet sounds, too. Slick, rhythmic. Slurping.
Holy shit. Someone’s actually blowing him. A complete stranger. A mystery person in the next booth.
My throat tightens. “A girl?”
“Hell if I know,” Jace murmurs, closing his eyes. “And hell if I care. Whoever they are, they’re fucking good at this.”
A weird heat pools in my stomach. How is he so casual about this? Some random stranger whose face he can’t see, whose gender he doesn’t know, is sucking his dick through a wall, and he’s acting like he’s getting a goddamn foot rub. This is unhinged, even for Jace.
He’s braced against the partition, hips rolling slow, pushing himself deeper into that dark void.
He’s getting harder now. I can see it every time he pulls back, his cock swelling, veins rising along the shaft.
I can’t tear my eyes away. I’ve never seen another guy get hard before.
I’ve seen plenty of porn, sure, but this is happening in real time, less than an arm’s length away.
Thickening, straining, Jace feeding himself into that hole again and again.
“Fuuuuck yeah,” he groans. “Just like that.”
My own dick throbs in response, swelling against the zipper of my jeans.
That alone should freak me out. The traitorous bastard always leaves me hanging when it matters most. Every girl who’s ever touched me got nothing out of me, but this?
Watching my best friend thrust into a wall?
Now it decides to wake up. Talk about fucked up.
I shift my weight, angling my body away, trying to hide the growing bulge.
Jace is fully in it now. Eyes squeezed shut, face twisted with pleasure.
His breath comes in ragged bursts, harsh in the quiet of the booth.
The wet sounds on the other side are getting faster, messier.
Someone’s going to town on him. And judging from the low moaning, that’s not a girl on her knees.
The timbre is too deep. Too guttural. I’d bet money on it. That’s a dude sucking my buddy’s cock.
My dick goes from hard to diamond-steel in an instant, straining painfully against my fly.
I bite my lip to keep from groaning. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The one thing that should make me run for the hills, the one thing that should kill any arousal stone dead, is the very thing making me so hard I could drill a hole in the concrete floor. None of this makes any sense.
Or… wait. Does it?
The thought hits me like a punch to the gut: maybe this is it.
The reason I’ve been so useless with girls.
Maybe it was never performance anxiety. Maybe I’ve just been playing for the wrong team this whole fucking time.
The idea is terrifying. Because if that’s true, what does that make me?
And what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Not that my body gives me time to figure it out. My dick is practically tearing through my jeans at this point. I want to touch myself so bad. I need to relieve the pressure, the throbbing ache in my balls.
Before I can stop myself, I’m fumbling with my belt. The buckle clinks way too loud in the small space. Jace’s eyes snap open, glazed with pleasure. He catches me with my fly down, knuckles pressed against the rigid shape straining at my briefs.
“Sorry,” I blurt. “I—”
“You want next, don’t you?” he pants.
“N-no. I was just…”
“Bullshit.” He gives a sharp thrust forward. “I can see you, Luca. You’re rock hard.”
Well. I can’t deny that. My face floods with heat.
I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare at the hole instead, at the place where his cock disappears into the darkness.
But that’s worse. So much worse. That thick, veiny shaft sliding in and out, slick and shining in the purple light.
In and out of someone’s open, willing mouth.
“Go on, then,” Jace breathes. “Your turn.”
He pulls out with a groan, and now I get the full picture. His shirt has ridden up past his abs, and his cock stands stiff against the trail of dark hair on his belly, glistening, flushed, angry-looking. He waggles it at me. “Look at this thing, man. I’m so fucking hard.”
“Y-yeah,” I stammer. “I see that.” I really fucking do. “You don’t wanna, uh, finish?”
“Nah. Not yet.” He flashes a wicked grin and glances down at my crotch. “Let’s take turns.”
Turns. As if this is some kind of game. Sticking our dicks through the same hole. Into the same warm, wet, anonymous mouth.
Jace steps aside and clears the path to the wall. “It’s all yours, bro.”
My heart is thudding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Every rational thought in my brain is screaming at me to walk away, but my body is already moving forward.
As I free myself from my briefs, my hands are shaking. First time Jace sees my dick, I realize as I wrap a fist around my shaft. First time I’ve ever been hard in front of anyone. And it’s in some dark, sticky booth in the back of a sex shop. Not exactly how I pictured this moment going.
But fuck, does it feel good to finally touch myself.
I push my hips forward and let the darkness swallow me.