Camden
We’ve done a good job of keeping this thing between us quiet. Kingston stays the night a lot, but that’s not unusual, and every moment we get alone is spent touching and exploring. We haven’t gone further than mutual hand jobs, but still, it’s been fucking amazing.
I can’t deny how much I’m loving it, even knowing how badly it’ll hurt when it has to end.
And it will have to end.
It’s Thanksgiving, and it’s tradition that Mom, Lucy, and I join Kingston and his parents for a big-ass meal cooked by his mom—who, no shade to my mom, is a really great cook. She just doesn’t have time to do it often except for the holidays.
Their home is warm and inviting as always. His mom hugs my little sister tight and compliments her dress before hugging my mom too. It’s nice to see my mom in her nicest sweater and leggings, looking relaxed and calm, and not rushing around for once.
She offers to help, and Kingston’s mom, Veronica, accepts happily as they head off to the kitchen. His dad motions for us to join him in the living room to watch football as Lucy bounces off to the kitchen too.
Sitting next to Kingston on the couch, I try my best to keep my eyes off him.
To keep it friendly like always. I try not to think about how his mouth tastes or how his cock feels in my hand right before he comes.
How it flexes and feels bigger just before spurting cum all over me.
How his face looks when he’s experiencing ecstasy.
Yeah, this is not going to work.
I try like hell to shift in a nonchalant way, trying to shield my growing cock from anyone else and will it to go down. This is so not the time.
“So, Camden, any scouts approach you at the last game? That was one hell of a game.” Kingston’s dad’s voice is enough to kill the semi-boner, and I’m thankful for that. Except I don’t want to talk about scouts and college.
“Nah, I’m not sure any were there.”
“That’s a damn shame. You boys played your hearts out.” My chest swells, knowing he’s proud of us. His dad is really the only father figure I’ve ever had. And despite some of the things I’ve heard come out of his mouth, I know he’s a good man.
I just don’t think he’d love that I’ve had his son’s naked body against mine.
Fuck, now I feel sick. It’s all so damn confusing. He’s been there. He’s supported me. He’s cared about me, but it’s the me I’ve allowed him to see. The football player. The tough guy who helps his mom as often as I can. The strong young man I’ve become, as he’s said.
But, if he were to know I’m gay, I wonder if it would all disappear. If he’d be hateful, or if he’d just ignore me. I don’t know which one would be worse, and that sick feeling only intensifies.
My gut clenches tightly, and I know I need a minute. I quickly excuse myself, heading down the hall to the guest bathroom, trying like hell to keep my cool. The thoughts in my head are too damn much.
But of fucking course, Kingston must have picked up on it because moments later, he’s knocking softly. “Cam. You okay?”
I open the door, letting him slip inside and pull the door closed as I stare into the mirror, gripping the counter, trying my best to breathe through it.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is wrapped in worry, but I can’t look at him. “Cam.” His hands move to my shoulders as he stands behind me. “Please.”
I force myself to turn around and face him. “Your dad. I just . . .”
“What? What did he say?” He looks ready to go full-on homicidal, and I don’t want that. I grip his hips in my hands.
“No. Nothing. He didn’t say anything today. It’s just . . .”
His hands move over my face, his eyes searching mine, and he seems to understand. “He has before.”
I nod my head slowly, feeling like shit for even mentioning it today. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. It’s not at all. I’m so sorry, Camden. If he says anything at all, I swear I’ll . . .”
I shake my head at him, holding onto him and breathing in deeply as I allow him to ground me. “It’s okay. Really. I’m fine.” He holds my gaze, his concern intense. “I just don’t want him to hate me, which sounds so fucking stupid.”
Now he’s the one who looks sick, his face almost pale. “That won’t happen.”
I want to shrug it off, play like it’s no big deal, but it is. It’s a deep-seated fear I don’t think will ever go away. “If he finds out I’m gay . . .” I swallow deeply. “That I’ve . . .” I clear my throat, “touched you.”
He stops me, his big hands gripping my face and making me look right at him and not away. “He won’t say a fucking hateful word. But if he does, he’ll lose a son.”
“You can’t say that.” I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.
“Yes. I can. You’re everything, Camden. You’re a good person.
You’re my best friend, and none of that has changed or ever will.
If he can’t handle you being gay, then he’s not the man I thought he was.
” He softens slightly, biting on his bottom lip.
“But I don’t think he really is that way.
He says dumb shit he shouldn’t say, but I don’t think he could ever hate you. ”
I want to believe that. I know the way we were raised. I know it was probably even worse when his dad was growing up. And while it’s no excuse, I think it’s more ignorance than hatred. “Okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”
His lips meet mine softly, pulling a gasp from me because I don’t expect it, but I go with it, kissing him back briefly. “I’m sorry you ever had to feel that way. You don’t deserve it. No one does.”
I lucked into a really amazing best friend. “Thank you.”
He smiles now, that great big sunshine of a smile, and pecks my lips once before stepping back and smacking my ass on the way out of the bathroom. If anyone saw us leave together, it probably wouldn’t even faze them, but no one does.
We have a great meal where thankfully, college and scouts don’t get brought up, and when mom and Lucy leave to go home, I stay behind to spend the night at Kingston’s.
It’s rare, but it’s hardly the first time.
It is, however, the very first time since we started whatever this is we’ve started doing. And it’s nearly impossible to resist him when he curls up behind me and starts kissing my neck. “Kingston, we can’t. Your parent’s bedroom is right down the hall.”
“They sleep through anything, and we’ll be quiet,” he says with so much certainty, but how fucking bad would it be if they overheard us?
“Kingston, we can’t.”
His big hand slides under my shirt, his fingers moving over my abs, hardening my dick far faster than I’m proud of. “We can.”
I grin because I can feel his determination. I know he wants to make me feel good. I sigh and turn around to face him. He’s already shirtless, while I was trying to be respectful, being in his parent’s house and all, putting on a t-shirt with my sweats for bed.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, his voice a sexy, raspy whisper. “But I locked the door.”
He has music playing. It’s not too loud, but he always has music playing when he sleeps. I lean into him, my mouth crashing against his because it’s worth the risk. Everything with him seems to be worth the risk.
He removes my shirt, and I push his sweats and briefs down before he kicks them off. Then my body is on his, my lips dragging down his neck and chest, savoring every bit of taste I can get from him.
When I reach his dick, dragging my tongue over his hardened length, he lets out a loud gasp, his breath quickening. “Cam.”
“I want to,” I say, slightly shaking as I grip his cock with one hand and look up at him. “Just . . . tell me if I do it wrong.”
“Not possible,” he says, giving me the confidence I need to take the head of his cock into my mouth, relishing the soft moan that leaves his throat.
“Shhh,” I say, licking around the head and then down his length, loving the taste of him like I knew I would. I take more of him into my mouth, stroking him slowly and keeping his cock from going in too deep.
I want to be good at this. I want to be the best he’s ever had, but the only experience I have is porn. Pretty sure that’s not totally realistic.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he says quietly, his hand brushing through my hair like he has to touch me too.
The thought spurs me on as I jack him with my hand and suck on his cock, using my tongue and humping the bed because, holy fuck, am I turned on. The sounds coming from him, his fingers in my hair, the taste of his precum all proving too much.
“Fuck, Camden, I’m close.” His fingers grip my hair. “Too close. I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
I don’t want to stop. I keep going, stroking him with a firmer grasp and sucking a little harder on the tip, my cock sliding over his sheets, leaking like crazy as I try not to come.
But when I hear his startled cry and his cum hits the back of my throat—so much that it dribbles from my lips as I try to swallow it all—I lose it.
My hips pump against the bed, finding just enough friction that I let go.
My cum soaks his bed as I moan around his softening cock and swallow the rest of his cum.
“Holy fuck.” I try to catch my breath as he pulls me up to him.
“Did you come?” he asks, looking down at my wet cock that’s resting against his thigh.
I nod my head, not finding the energy to be embarrassed. “It was too hot.”
He grins. “That’s fucking hot.”
He starts to lean in to kiss me, but I pull back. “I probably taste like you.”
His smile only widens, that mischievous, easygoing grin I love so damn much. “I don’t care.” He kisses me hard, both of us moaning as his tongue delves into my mouth, no doubt tasting himself on me.
He only deepens the kiss, which God help me, only makes me love him more.
This is so damn bad.