Chapter 14 James
James
The kiss was nothing like the one I’d given Trevor at the coffee shop.
That had been for show, a performance meant to prove a point.
This was raw and real and so intense it made my knees weak.
Kent made a sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening on my hips as he pulled me flush against him.
I’d kissed plenty of guys before. Had memorable nights and forgettable hookups and everything in between. But nothing had ever felt like this. Like jumping off a cliff in the most blissful way possible.
Kent’s lips were softer than I’d imagined and his stubble scratched against my skin as the kiss deepened. Then his tongue swept across my lower lip asking for permission I was all too eager to grant.
One of his hands slid up my back, tangling in my hair, and I pressed closer, eliminating any space left between our bodies. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. And I could feel his cock thickening against my own. Clearly, he was interested.
When we finally broke apart, both of us gasping for air, Kent rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his lips were red and slightly swollen.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I agreed, because coherent thought was beyond me at the moment.
“I’ve wanted to do that for days,” he admitted, his thumb stroking along my hip bone through my shirt. “Maybe longer. I don’t know anymore.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him properly. “This is crazy. You know that, right? This whole situation is completely insane.”
“I know.” He didn’t look away, didn’t try to minimize it. “But I don’t care.”
“Our parents—”
“Aren’t here. And frankly, after the way my dad acted at dinner, I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.”
He had a point. But still. “This is going to complicate everything.”
“Everything’s already complicated,” Kent said, his hand moving from my hip to cup my face, mirroring the way I was still holding his. “At least this way it’s complicated in a way that feels good.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, mainly because he was looking at me like I was something precious and my brain had turned to static. So instead of arguing, I kissed him again.
This time it was slower, less desperate but somehow more intense. I mapped the shape of his mouth with mine, learned the taste of him, memorized the small sounds he made when I bit gently at his lower lip. His hands roamed my back, my sides, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch me most.
When we broke apart again, I was the one who pulled away, needing to put some distance between us before this went further than I was ready for tonight. I was already painfully hard, throbbing in my jeans. And judging by the tent in Kent’s sweatpants, he wasn’t much better off.
“We should probably talk about this,” I said, even though talking was the last thing I wanted to do. “Figure out what we’re going to do.”
Kent nodded, though he looked reluctant to let me go. His hands slid down to catch mine, threading our fingers together hesitantly. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
We moved to the couch, sitting close enough that our thighs pressed together. Kent kept hold of one of my hands, his thumb tracing patterns across my knuckles in the same way Trevor had done at the movies. But this time, it was downright distracting.
“So,” I started, then realized I had no idea what to say. How did you navigate this? There wasn’t exactly a handbook for falling for your stepbrother. “Are… you gay now?”
Kent pulled his hand away, his body language getting suddenly more closed off. “I… I don’t know.”
I watched him retreat into himself, saw the familiar walls going back up, and I knew I had to tread carefully here.
This was new territory for him in a way it wasn’t for me.
I’d had years to come to terms with my sexuality, to work through the fear and shame and confusion. Kent was just starting that journey.
“That’s okay,” I said gently, resisting the urge to reach for his hand again. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now.”
“But you need to know, don’t you? You need to know if this is just some... some experiment for me. If I’m going to wake up tomorrow and decide I made a mistake.” His voice was strained, and he still wouldn’t look at me.
“Is that what you think this is?”
“I don’t know what this is.” He finally met my eyes, and the vulnerability there made my chest ache. “All I know is that when I’m around you, I feel things I’ve never felt before. And yeah, maybe that means I’m gay, or bi, or whatever. But putting a label on it feels like too much right now.”
I nodded, understanding more than he probably realized. “Okay. So we don’t label it. We just... see what happens.”
“Just like that?” Kent looked skeptical.
“Just like that.” I shifted closer to him again, emboldened by the fact that he’d kissed me back, that he’d admitted to wanting this. “Look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t complicated. It is. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel whatever this is between us.”
Kent was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working like he was trying to figure out what to say. “I need this to stay between us,” he finally said. “At least for now. I can’t have anyone knowing about this. If it got back to my dad, or my friends from work, or my boss—”
“Kent.” I cut him off before he could spiral. “I’m not going to tell anyone. This is between you and me. Nobody else.”
“Promise?”
The desperation in his voice caught me off guard. This wasn’t just about being closeted. This was about fear. A real, bone-deep fear of what would happen if people found out.
“I promise,” I said firmly. “Whatever this is, however far it goes, it stays private until you’re ready. If you’re ever ready.”
Some of the tension left his shoulders. “Thank you.”
We sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of what we’d just agreed to settling over us. This was risky. This could blow up in our faces in so many ways. But as I sat there next to Kent, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, I couldn’t bring myself to care about the risks.
“So, what now?” Kent asked quietly.
“Now?” I shifted so I was facing him more fully. “Now we take this one day at a time. No pressure, no expectations. We just... see where it goes.”
“And if it doesn’t go anywhere? If I wake up and realize I can’t do this?”
“Then we deal with that when it happens.” I reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, I placed my hand on his knee. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because of the way you get all bristled when I talk about Trevor.” He bristled immediately, on cue. “And because of the way you’re looking at me right now.” I squeezed his knee gently. “Like you want to kiss me again but you’re scared to make the first move.”
A flush crept up Kent’s neck. “I do want to kiss you again.”
“So, kiss me.”
He hesitated for just a second before leaning in, and this time when our lips met, it felt different. Less frantic, more deliberate. Like we were both acknowledging that this wasn’t just a moment of weakness or confusion. This was a choice we were making.
His hand found the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, and I let myself get lost in the sensation. When we pulled apart this time, Kent’s eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with want. “I should probably go to bed,” he said, though he made no move to get up.
“Probably,” I agreed, equally unmotivated to move.
“Alone,” he clarified. “I should go to bed alone. This is all happening really fast and I… I don’t think I can keep my hands off you if we’re in the same bed.”
“Do you want to keep your hands off me?”
His eyes widened. I was baiting him, I knew it. But every kiss made me want him, made me crave him. I was still hard, still needy for his touch.
“I… I don’t know,” he replied, his voice shaking. “All I can think of are those videos on your phone… the ones you sent to Trevor.”
“I knew you were snooping through my phone,” I shot back, a grin pulling at my lips. “Did you see all of them?”
He nodded slowly.
“Even the dildo one?”
Kent went pale. “That’s the one I can’t stop thinking about.
” Kent’s gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, and I could see his chest rising and falling more rapidly.
“I watched it more than once,” he admitted, the words seeming to cost him something.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if you were saying my name instead. I even… I jerked off to it.”
The confession hung between us, electric and dangerous. My cock throbbed in my jeans, and I shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Kent’s eyes tracked the movement, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Kent,” I said carefully, “if we do this—if we go there tonight—there’s no taking it back.”
“I know.” His hand was still on the back of my neck, his fingers tightening slightly. “But I don’t know if I can stop this. I’ve already kissed you several times… and I don’t want to stop.”
He wasn’t wrong. The moment our lips had met, something fundamental had shifted between us. We could pretend it hadn’t, could go to our separate rooms and try to forget this ever happened. But we’d both know. We’d both remember.
“Last chance,” I offered, even as everything in me screamed to pull him closer. “You can still back out. No hard feelings.”
Kent’s response was to kiss me again, hard and demanding, his other hand gripping my hip with enough force that I knew I’d feel it tomorrow. When he pulled back, his eyes were blazing with determination.
“Stop giving me outs,” he growled. “I want this. I want you.”
The words sent a shiver down my spine. I stood up, pulling him with me, and led him toward my bed without another word. My heart was racing, my mind spinning with the implications of what we were about to do. But my body knew exactly what it wanted.
“Have you ever—” I started to ask.
“No,” he cut me off. “Never. Not with another guy.”
The admission made me pause. This wasn’t just about us crossing a line as stepbrothers. This was Kent’s first experience with another man. The weight of that responsibility settled over me, and I knew I needed to be careful with him.
“We’ll take it slow,” I said, moving closer to him. “We don’t have to do everything tonight.”
“Okay.” His hands found my waist, pulling me against him. “What should we start with?”
“Kiss me.”
He kissed me again, walking me backward until my legs hit the edge of my bed. I sat down hard, and he followed, his body pressing me into the mattress in one fluid motion. The new position pressed our erections together, separated only by layers of fabric, and we both groaned at the contact.
Kent’s hands slid under my shirt, his palms hot against my skin as they explored my back, my sides, and my chest. His touch was hungry and unpracticed, and something about that combination made it even hotter. I rocked against him, grinding my cock against his, and his head fell back with a gasp.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “James, I—”
I silenced him with another kiss, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against his as I showed him what I wanted.
At the same time, I reached down, undoing the button of my jeans.
Lifting my hips, I slid them low enough so my cock sprang free at last. Kent pulled back just long enough to pull out his own cock, the heat of his skin pressing against mine deliciously.
Without hesitation, I wrapped my hand around us both and began to stroke, our pre-cum mixing into a pleasant slickness that had us moaning into each other’s mouths.
“Fuck,” Kent groaned, his hips seeking friction against mine. “Fuck James… that feels good…”
I tightened my grip, increasing the pace as Kent’s breathing grew ragged against my neck. His hand came up to cover mine, guiding the rhythm faster, more desperate. The fact that this was his first time touching another man like this, being touched by another man, made everything feel more intense.
“Is this okay?” I asked, my voice wrecked with lust.
“Better than okay,” he panted, his hips thrusting into our joined hands. “God, James, I didn’t know it could feel like this.”
I kissed him again, swallowing his moans as I worked us both toward the edge. His free hand gripped my shoulder hard enough to bruise, and I loved it. Loved the way he was coming undone beneath me, loved the desperate sounds he made, loved that I was the one making him feel this way.
“I’m close,” he warned, his voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Let go,” I urged against his lips. “I want to see you cum.”
That was all it took. Kent’s entire body went rigid, his cock pulsing in my hand as he came with a strangled cry. The sight and sound of it pushed me over the edge, my own orgasm hitting me like a freight train as I spilled over our joined hands.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, foreheads pressed together as we came down from the high. My hand was sticky with our combined release, and I should probably have felt some kind of shame or regret. But all I felt was satisfied.
“Holy shit,” Kent finally said, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah,” I agreed, reluctantly pulling away to grab some tissues from my nightstand. I cleaned us both up as best I could, Kent watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“You okay?” I asked, suddenly worried that he was already regretting this.
“I...” He paused, his face running the gamut of emotions. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” I reached out for him, but he pulled away. I dropped my hand, giving him space. “I know it’s a lot to process.”
“I’m going for a walk,” he said abruptly, pushing himself up. He quickly pulled up his sweatpants and headed for the door. “I just need a minute to think.”
“Do you want me to come with you—”
“No,” he snapped. Then he looked back at me, regret filling his eyes. “I mean… fuck.”
Without another word, he grabbed his keys and left, the door slamming behind him.
What had I done?