Jason
That was close.
Too close.
I should have known being drunk around Gabe would be too hard. My defenses are down. He flashed that thigh, and I wanted to pounce.
Sweat beads on my brow as I dart into the bathroom, locking the door once I’m inside. I stare at my reflection and see the bags beneath my eyes. Cuts litter my face from the fight, and I grimace.
But it’s not just the wounds that concern me the most.
It's the exhaustion in my face.
Being this close to Gabe is taking everything I have to keep my emotions in check. One moment, I want to rage and throw things across the room, and the next—
I splash cool water over my face and continue to study my reflection.
But soon, all I can see in my mind’s eye is a half-naked Gabe looking scrumptious on his bed.
“Don’t do it, Jason. Not him. Anyone but him. You can fuck all of Belmont if you want, but not Gabe. There’s no coming back from that.”
But as soon as the words leave my mouth, he’s back. Staring at me through the mirror with those brown eyes that make my chest ache.
His mouth moves, saying something that I can’t hear.
I wish I could hear it.
My vision blurs, the alcohol making my head spin—
Or is it just the intensity of it all?
The knowledge that he’s practically naked on a bed with just some flimsy wood paneling dividing us is driving me wild. All it would take is for me to walk in there and tell him, “I want it,” and he would be mine.
Mine.
“Oh, fuck me…”
My heart pounds as I rub my eyes, trying to wash that image away, but I can’t.
I could do it.
I could just walk in there.
What if I could have him…
Just once?
“Stop,” I warn my reflection.
Fuck it!
I can’t do it anymore. I tear off my pants and underwear to free my aching hard-on and release a wad of spit that lands right on the shaft.
“Just pump one out, dude.”
That’s it. That’s the solution.
This will fix it. I’m always horned up when I’m toasty, so if I just choke one out, I’ll be sane again.
My cock swells, precum leaking from the tip, as I close my eyes and pretend my hand is Gabe’s.
I see his thigh, pale and smooth, and that delicious crease where his ass meets his leg.
And those boxers.
They were old. Ratty. That trashy hat he wore…
The look in his eyes when he dropped his arms to his sides.
In my mind, I crawl up the bed again, but instead of stopping myself, I wrap my hand around his neck and stop just an inch from his face. His mouth falls open, revealing his tongue. I inch forward, teasing him with a kiss, but back away.
He’s mad…and pouty.
I love when they pout.
A little whimper escapes his lips, and that’s when I let him have it, sliding my tongue in his sweet mouth and giving him what he needs.
I can almost taste him.
His face is red because my hand clasps his neck, just tight enough to make him struggle, but not enough to cause harm.
Then my hand trails down his body, tracing the lines of his frame, before slipping past the elastic waistband of his boxers and gripping what’s mine.
Him.
He belongs to me in this moment, and not a fucking soul in the world could take him from me.
But I don't stop at his cock. I reach under him and run a finger along the crease of his ass. He gasps, spreading his legs wider, giving me access.
My finger stops on his hole.
His tight, warm hole.
I imagine what it would feel like to have him wrapped around my cock, staring from above with wide eyes as he straddles my throbbing—
“Oh fuck!”
Cum rips out of me, painting the bathroom floor as my entire body shudders from the force of my orgasm.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god.”
I look at my reflection.
Jesus Christ.
There I am…wrecked. My cock still hanging out, red and hard, while cum drips from the tip, dappling the floor.
And my hand…
It’s pinching my nipple.
I look into my eyes.
And I know…
I know what I see in them.
I have to have him.
“No, you don’t!”
Crack.
I slap my face hard before splashing more cold water on it.
Sloppily, like a clown, I pull up my pants and clean the mess off the floor before charging into the living room.
I just need to go to sleep—to not think about him.
Easier said than done.