Chapter 3 #3
He’d barely tolerated him for years, and now that they were finally in the same place, at the same time, things were better, they were friends now, but it wasn’t like that.
“Okay.” Lane let out a breath. “Okay.”
Trevor wasn’t sure what to do; he’d anticipated that this would be simple. So easy to fall into each other, because on his side, the desire had been so unexpectedly steady and strong.
But instead, awkwardness descended.
Should Trevor kiss him again? Longer this time? More of a kiss? Or should they eat their takeout? Try to rewind time back to when things were “normal” and Trevor hadn’t said yes?
Trevor didn’t want to, though. He’d only gotten the barest hint of a taste, and he’d been thinking about it all day, letting the thought of it slowly drive him insane. Could Trevor even keep going like this?
He wasn’t sure he could.
He didn’t want to.
“Fuck it,” Trevor muttered, and leaned in again. Lane had said if you want to experiment, experiment with me. And damn it, he was going to.
This kiss was different.
Lane was expecting it this time, and he caught Trevor with a palm to his cheek, lips moving more confidently under Trevor’s mouth.
It was like kissing a girl, but different, too. Not necessarily better, but that didn’t matter, because it was lighting Trevor up inside anyway, shining into all those dim corners of himself that he’d pretended didn’t exist.
Lane’s chin and cheeks were stubbly, but it was a delicious kind of roughness, as their mouths slid together slowly, still carefully.
Their lips caught, wet and sweet, as Trevor shifted an inch closer, fingers digging into Lane’s broad, muscled shoulder.
Exhaling roughly, Lane tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Trevor’s breath caught in his throat and then pulled back. Not because he wanted to, but because it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something bigger than a simple kiss.
Normally, it wouldn’t be so fast for him to want that, to need to chase that high all the way down. He’d be cautious about it.
Lane stared at him, eyes wide like he’d never seen him before. Trevor wondered if he was looking back the same way.
“Um,” Lane said. And his voice had gotten even deeper, even rougher.
Trevor had a feeling that if he looked down, into Lane’s lap, he’d see him tenting his gray sweatpants.
Lane had only ever said experiment, and maybe this was all he’d meant. Make sure that Trevor knew that he did like guys. Well, he liked them. Or, he liked one.
“Yeah, uh, well, I think I’m definitely not straight,” Trevor said and then tried to laugh self-deprecatingly, but it came out all wonky and wrong. Desperate, like he couldn’t wait to do it again and again and again.
“No,” Lane agreed.
Based on rumors about Lane’s history, Trevor had kind of assumed that Lane would take the lead here.
Show Trevor what he needed to know. There’d been a certain comfort there, in that Trevor knew he wouldn’t be putting a foot wrong, wouldn’t be embarrassing himself, because he was just going along with whatever Lane wanted.
But instead, Lane just sat there, bluish-green eyes wide and shockingly earnest, like he was waiting for Trevor to decide what he wanted and then to take it.
As good as that had sounded, this was even better.
But first, Trevor had to make sure he hadn’t read the situation wrong. Had to ensure they were on the same page.
“So, you want me to . . .” Trevor trailed off.
Lane chuckled under his breath. His hand, still cupping Trevor’s cheek, stroked absently. It made every nerve in Trevor’s entire body stand at attention. “Do I want you to what? You gotta say it, Trev.”
“Asshole,” Trevor joked, but the warm fondness in his tone made it so obvious that he didn’t really mean it. Had he ever meant it?
“Wasn’t the tune you were singing a minute ago,” Lane teased right back.
And that was what it felt like, Trevor realized.
It wasn’t just teasing; it was flirting.
How long had they been flirting with each other?
The question might’ve sent his mind spiraling, but he didn’t let it.
There’s time enough to freak out later, when you’re not practically on Lane’s lap, and he’s not looking at you like he wants you.
“Fair,” Trevor said begrudgingly. “I mean, like, do you want me to just . . . take what I want?”
He swore Lane’s eyes darkened. Went smoky bluish gray.
“Would you like that?” Lane asked.
Trevor nodded slowly. “Yeah, I would, but what about you?”
“What about me?” Lane asked it so easy, like handing the reins over to Trevor was normal, matter of course. Like it wasn’t the first goddamn time that anybody had ever done that for him. Like he’d actually looked inside Trevor and seen the truth of him, laid bare.
That was ridiculous, of course. But maybe it didn’t matter if this was a coincidence, if he’d just been accidentally handed something he wanted desperately. Maybe it only mattered that he’d been handed it.
“I mean, don’t you want . . .” Trevor shouldn’t be embarrassed at naming things that Lane might want. Things that Lane might want with him. But well, doing it was one thing. Talking about it was another, entirely.
“Come on, say it,” Lane encouraged, tapping his fingers against Trevor’s cheek.
“Don’t you want things too?”
“Hmmm.” Lane smiled. Almost a smirk. It shouldn’t have been hot, but Trevor felt his neck go hot. “Maybe what I want is what you want.”
That had never occurred to Trevor. “So you’d like it if I did this again?” He leaned in and the kiss was lusher. Deeper. Lane groaned in the back of his throat, fingers stroking Trevor’s skin again, and every little bit of encouragement gave Trevor more bravery to take exactly what he wanted.
Trevor pulled back.
For a split second, he thought Lane was going to chase his mouth with his own, but he didn’t. He stayed put.
And goddamn that was hot.
“Yeah,” Lane said, “I’d like it.”
“So when you said, I’ll be your experiment—”
“I meant it?” Lane finished for him. “I meant it. It’s not really an experiment if I’m the one showing you what I want, is it? It’s your experiment, Trev.”
Nothing had ever sounded better to Trevor.
Trevor wet his lips. Lane might’ve said it, but he was still having trouble wrapping his head around this kind of gift.
He wouldn’t have said Lane was a particularly selfish person but this had a selflessness to it that he was having difficulty squaring with what he knew of his stepbrother.
It occurred to him suddenly that maybe Trevor didn’t really know his stepbrother.
“You’re really okay with this?”
“Trevor,” Lane said simply, “I want what you want.”
Trevor hardly knew what to do with that. It was easier to joke about it than it was to accept it.
“What if I want something weird?”
The corner of Lane’s mouth quirked up. “Do you?”
Trevor was having difficulty even thinking of what he wanted right now. He wanted it all, he wanted to dive in, headfirst, and figure it all out later. Let the waves of this new realization crash over him, and not worry once about drowning.
“Probably not,” Trevor admitted.
“How about, if you end up wanting something I don’t like, I promise I’ll tell you. But.” For the first time, Lane dipped his head closer to Trevor. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. At all.”
Trevor’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed, hard. “Okay,” he said.
“So, what do you want?” Lane asked.
And oh God, it was so fucking easy to think it and then take it.
Trevor’s mouth crashed into Lane’s again, his body sliding over practically on top of him. Up til now, their kisses had been slow, like they were feeling each other out, unsure of what exactly the shape of this would look like, but now Trevor knew.
Now Trevor knew and he wanted to take, take, take. Anything Lane would give him.
Lane’s head tipped back against the couch and Trevor chased it.
A moment later, Lane’s hand cupped his hip, urging him closer.
Urging him to take what he wanted and Trevor didn’t hold back.
He shuffled closer, and then thought, fuck it and took everything.
Swung a leg over Lane’s lap. Trevor wasn’t a small guy, but Lane was even bigger.
Taller and broader. He made Trevor feel small, not something he thought he’d ever be into.
Wasn’t sure he would be into it with anyone else, but with Lane?
In his sweatpants, his cock twitched eagerly, wanting more pressure, more friction, as his tongue brushed against Lane’s.
But while their kisses kept getting more intense, Lane’s fingers curling more insistently into the curve of his hip, neither of them pushed to take something more.
Trevor because he was just enjoying the feeling of his mouth on Lane’s mouth. Enjoying the burn of arousal skittering across his nerves. He wanted more, but for right now, he was happy to do just this. Press their lips together, until they were slick and Lane was panting against his mouth.
Trevor loved that. Wanted to make a big sign with shiny letters and brandish it around. I did that, and I’m gonna do it again.
But it wasn’t just pride in turning Lane on. It was pride that he was turned on. That he wanted more. That he was going to get to do this right now and next time and the time after that.
Lane had told him to take what he wanted, and so Trevor did that.
Mouth moving from his lips to his scruff-covered jawline.
He’d told himself so many times that his gaze had only caught on it because it was aesthetically a good jawline.
A good face, really, but the jawline was something else.
And instead of Lane’s perpetual golden-brown scruff detracting from it, it seemed to accentuate it. Draw attention to it.
The hair was soft against his face, against his mouth. Trevor heard a deep groan and realized it was him.
It was too much to wonder if he’d ever been so into a make-out session, so he just didn’t. That was a problem—or a solution, maybe—to consider at a different time.