Jason
The July sun burns my shoulders. I’ve never really worn sunscreen, and that’s probably a dumb decision on my part, but when have I ever made good decisions, right?
I visited Old Man McGinty’s place because I needed a punching bag to practice for the fight on Wednesday, and if anyone was gonna have one for cheap, it was McGinty.
He said he’d give it to me if I moved a bunch of shit out of his garage and onto the sidewalk for trash day.
After that, the bag was mine.
It’s hanging from the branch of a tree behind the trailer, and I’m hitting it like my life depends on it.
And my life does depend on it.
I have no idea what Wednesday will be like, but I’ve got to at least try. Am I fighting one dude? Two? More? Are there multiple rounds? How big are these guys?
I’m tough, but there’s a limit to what I can do.
I probably should have asked, but it was hard to think straight while Tobias Kay was threatening my life, then asking to fist my ass.
My body is made for scrappy bar fights, where I can fight dirty, not an organized boxing match with would-be motorcycle gang members.
Also…
Does a motorcycle come with the gig?
Fuck health insurance, gimme a bike! That’s my kind of job perk.
The chain of the punching bag rattles with each strike.
Jab. Cross. Hook.
I hit it again, and the bag swings from the branch and smacks against the trunk of the tree. My knuckles are red, and sweat drips from my shoulders.
This is good.
Fighting in the blazing hot sun like this is good training. It’ll help me build up my stamina.
I hope.
I’ve only got less than a week to train, but I intend to make the most of the time I’ve got leading up to Wednesday.
Jab. Hook. Cross. Jab.
My focus zeroes in on the bag. The world around me darkens, and I focus on my imaginary target.
Doug.
Damn, it would feel so good just to let it rip on Doug.
You want to beat the hell out of a twelve-year-old?
Hook.
That makes you feel like a big man?
Jab. Jab. Jab.
Well, that twelve-year-old is twenty now. Wanna try it?
Hook.
Cross.
Jab.
Jab.
Jab.
The branch breaks, and the bag falls to the ground. “FUCK!”
My body quakes with rage because I was in the zone—unstoppable.
Fucking dumbass tree branch.
I whip around, intending to march into the trailer and chug some water, when I see Gabe standing in front of the back door and watching me.
“How long have you been there?” I ask.
His chest rises and falls as he stares at me. The sun shines on his face, and he squints his dark brown eyes. He’s wearing all black, which makes his light skin look even paler.
Gabe opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
He clenches it shut and looks at the ground.
And that hurts.
But it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t matter. I’m getting out of here, so it doesn’t matter if he wants to talk to me.
“Whatever.”
I move to brush past him when his arm wraps around my torso.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
His words stop me in my tracks, and I instinctively press my hand to his arm.
We stand there. Frozen.
The heat of his breath hits the crook of my neck, and I shudder.
He tries to speak again, but a strangled squeak is all that emerges.
The leaves rustle in the wind, and the bees buzz around us. Off in the distance, a dog barks, and the smell of someone barbecuing hits my nose.
His eyes…
They can barely maintain contact with me, and I can see him swallowing—forcing down whatever is blocking the words, and the look on his face is crushing.
He finally wills himself to do it, pushing out the words in one fell swoop. “She helped you. Her support mattered, and the lie made it seem like her love was a lie, too.” His voice cracks, and tears well at the base of his eyes.
He takes a deep breath and tightens his arm around me. “But it wasn’t. She does care.”
His eyes, red and teary, look into mine as he says, “And so do I.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, looking at the ground.
“Gabe—” His name comes out on an exhale.
He finally understands.
It feels like a lump of stone in my chest is dissolving. I pull him closer, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat as our chests press together.
I look down at him—at those broken, brown eyes…
And I kiss him.
A rush travels through me as my arms wrap tighter around him, kissing him like he has the air I need to live.
I’ve wanted to kiss him like this for so long…
Even when I hated him, this need never died.
The kiss grows frantic. Desperate. Our hands grip each other, pulling us closer.
I pin him against the trailer’s side, and Gabe wraps his legs around my waist, our lips never disconnecting. His fingers dig into my back, and mine knead his butt.
We’re both mewling and panting, and he tastes so sweet.
His hand finds my hardening cock and presses it.
I stop.
We stare at each other.
My cock swells even more under his touch.
Gabe gives my dick a little tug, and his lips curl into a tentative smile.
And that’s when I fucking lose it.
I open the door with one hand and carry him inside before setting him down and demanding, “Naked. Now.”
He begins taking off his shirt, but he’s wearing a damn button-up, and I need him naked. So, I throw him over my shoulder, toss him on his bed, and rip off his shirt, buttons sailing off and landing on the bedroom floor.
Gabe kisses me again, yanking open my pants and pushing them down.
My shirt comes off next, and I rip off Gabe’s shoes and pants.
We’re both grasping at each other, pulling at whatever material separates our bodies.
I pull down his plaid boxers, revealing Gabe’s hard cock, and my mouth wraps around it before my mind can catch up.
He gasps, and I look up to see his wide eyes roll back as I worship him.
I’ve never done this before, and I really hope I’m good at it because I want Gabe to feel good.
I slip off my shoes and push down my pants and boxers as I suck Gabe’s cock, keeping my eyes on his face to gauge if he’s enjoying it.
His precum tastes so perfect. It’s bitter with a hint of sweetness.
Just like him.
I hollow my cheeks and manage to swallow him even deeper.
“S-S-Stop,” he stutters out.
I release my mouth immediately. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry—”
He shakes his head and cups my face with his hands, looking at me with sweet eyes that remind me of the past.
He takes a deep breath and rasps out, “You’re gonna make me come too soon.”
“Oh.”
Well, color me smug.
Gabe kisses me again, and when he leans back to look at me, something shifts.
His eyes grow dark and hungry.
He licks his lower lip and speaks without hesitation. “Fuck my face. Now.”
My breath hitches.
It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak so freely. There was no pause. No swallowing the lump in his throat.
He just spoke.
Like he used to.
I leap onto the bed without a second thought and line my cock up to his mouth, and he sucks me to the back of his throat.
I have to press my hand against the ceiling to keep my balance because his mouth feels fucking incredible. My knees almost buckle as he drags his tongue along the length of my dick, looking up at me through those beautiful lashes.
He stops and releases my cock from his mouth. He looks up at me with black eyes, his pupils blown out, and a filthy smile.
“Fuck my mouth. Hard,” he demands.
I’m in awe.
It’s like he’s lost in this moment, and the silence is gone.
Gabe makes filthy, gurgling noises as I slam my cock down his throat.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
His face is red, his eyes are rolled back, and his mouth is wide open, taking me as deep as my cock will go.
He looks so good down there on his knees. He’s lean, but his thighs are strong, and he strokes his long, thick cock as I fuck his face.
I look behind him to see his perfect little ass, and my dick nearly erupts right then and there.
“I need your ass, Gabe.”
He wastes no time pulling away from my length. “Yes. Fuck my ass.”
I push him to a lying position and throw his legs over my shoulders so I can spear his hole with my tongue.
“Oh, my god,” he yells. I know he wasn’t expecting me to eat his ass.
Truth be told, I wasn’t either.
But it looked too good not to.
“Yes—don’t stop—oh fuck—”
He whimpers and mewls—babbling while I drag my tongue along his crease, and hearing the sound of his voice like this is making a warm feeling spread across my chest.
I’d eat his ass forever if it meant hearing him speak continuously like this.
He tastes so good. His hole flexes around my tongue when I push it even deeper. “Spit on my ass,” he begs.
And I do. I spit on his hole and slap it while he cries out. “Spit on it again.”
Gabe’s hands search for something to hold onto. There’s no bedpost, so he grips the sheets while I continue eating him out.
“Jason,” he rasps. “Fuck me. Please.”
Now, I’m the feral one. I rise, kneeling on the bed, grabbing his ankles, ready to plunge my cock into him when—
“Fuck, do we have lube?”
“I don’t want lube,” he replies.
My eyes grow wide. “What? Of course, we need lube or something. Do we have Vaseline in the bathroom?”
Gabe frees his legs from my grasp and holds my face between his hands. “I want it to hurt,” he whispers.
I freeze, my breathing fast and frantic. “Why?” I ask.
“Because I want to remember this. Please.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gabe look more desperate in my whole life. He pleads with his eyes, and I just can’t say no.
“Okay,” I whisper. “You have to tell me if it’s too much. You have to—”
“I will,” he assures me. “Just use spit. That’s all I want.”
My body and my mind are at war. It feels wrong to do this, but I need him so much.
I grab his ankles again, push his legs to his chest so his asshole is exposed, then release a wad of spit that lands right on his hole. With my finger, I massage his rim before slicking my cock with more spit and lining up to push inside him.
“Finger me a little first,” he says.
“Good idea,” I reply, while panting like a dog.
I’m about to stick my finger inside Gabe’s butt…
I spit on my fingers to make them slick, then carefully slide one in his hole.
Gabe closes his eyes and smiles.
I pump him with my finger, watching his face look more and more wrecked the deeper I go.
“Two fingers now,” he whispers.