Chapter 15 #3
Breaking mid-scene doesn’t happen—the doll stays still until the session is wrapped or to safeword. Miles stares at me and I stare back, and there are a few seconds where neither of us do anything.
“Miles,” I finally say, and my voice comes out rough as fuck. “Chill. It’s fine.”
He looks down at my hand on his wrist, then back up at me. He looks genuinely pained, like he crossed a line he can’t un-cross. Yeah, I mean, technically he did. But the thing is, I don’t actually care.
“You’re freaked out,” he says. “You’re freaked out and you’re just being nice because—”
“Dude, I am not freaked out.”
“You broke mode. You never—”
“Yeah, because you are freaking out.” I let go of his wrist and sit properly, back against the wall. My chest is still slick with his spit, and my nipples feel insane, but right now I need a second to just be a person and not a doll. “Come on, sit down.”
He perches on the absolute edge of the mattress, still looking ready to sprint.
“I’m sorry, man, I said all that shit about your—your fucking tits, dude. About Kit. Not the doll. About you.”
“And?” I cock my head, letting my knees fall open wider just to watch his gaze flicker down. “My piece is still swollen and throbbing from that, man. I blew my load from that.”
Miles lets out a strangled wheeze, clutching the pillow tightly over his lap.
“But you’re—I mean, you’re straight.”
“So are you,” I point out, and Miles’ laugh comes out totally hysterical.
“Kit. Man. Dude. I just admitted to jerking off to your abs.”
“Yeah, and? I was about to get railed by some rando at the party. You really think I give a fuck if you wanna paint my stomach with your cum?”
Miles’ breath stutters, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. The pillow does fuck-all to hide how hard he is.
“So yeah, man, I’m not weirded out. And disgust is genuinely not on the table here.” He opens his mouth, and closes it fast when I grab my cum-slicked, half-hard piece to show him. “I’m mostly just horny. And a little annoyed about the party thing, honestly.”
“But that and this aren’t—it’s different.”
I stare at him for a second. “So which one is it?”
“Which one is what?”
“Are you freaking out because you’re too high, because you realized you might like guys—” I tilt my head. “Or because it’s me specifically?”
He goes very still.
Then he makes this short, outraged sound, like I’ve personally offended him. “Are you kidding me? Seriously?”
“What—”
“You think I would freak out over liking guys?” He says it like I’ve accused him of something. “That’s what you think?”
“I mean—”
“Kit.” He looks genuinely, almost comically affronted. “As if I’m gonna have some kind of crisis over that. Come on.”
I raise my hands, genuinely surprised. Did I touch a nerve or—? “Okay—Oh my God, chill.”
“I have been—” He stops, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ve had a suspicion I might be bi for, like, months because—you know.” He gestures vaguely toward my chest. “The whole wanting to suck your nips thing? Yeah, man, that was kinda a giveaway.”
“Subtle.”
“Fuck off.” He shoves at my shoulder, but there’s no heat in it. “The problem isn’t the guy thing. The problem is that it’s you. Or maybe it’s me, who the fuck knows?”
He slides his hands through his hair again, and I watch it fall back onto his forehead exactly the same way. He does it again, a little frustrated.
“That’s what I’m freaking out about,” he continues.
“Because you’re—we’ve lived together for two years, Kit.
And when the doll thing started, I was into it, and I was like, cool, it’s a system, there are rules, I respect all of that.
But now my brain is completely fucking fried because it turns out I want—” He pauses. “I want you outside of the system.”
I’m quiet for a second, trying to determine if that’s a problem for me or not. It takes less than a second to realize it’s absolutely not.
“Just so we’re clear,” he adds quickly, “I’m attracted to you. Not in love with you. Big difference.”
He stares at me, his face still red.
Yeah, okay. Obviously. I mean—of course he’s not catching feelings.
That’s just how it is. Miles wants to use the doll, and sometimes he thinks about my abs.
That’s the whole story. That’s where it starts and ends.
Because what would the alternative even look like?
Someone actually falling for the guy who goes blank and lets the room fuck him? Someone wanting that long-term?
I don’t know why there’s this small, stupid thing sitting in my chest right now, but it’s fine. It makes sense. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
I ignore the small stupid thing.
“So you’re bi?”
Miles exhales, and goes in search of his glasses without looking at me. “Yeah. Guess so.”
“Cool.”
He looks at me again. “Cool? Are you… okay with me being queer?”
“Yeah, man.” I shrug. “Bi’s solid.”
He stares at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head. Then, he snorts. “God, I never know what you are thinking.”
“Pot, kettle,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “Do I have to remind you again about the guy who was about to fuck me at the party?”
“No, you don’t need to, thank you.”
I snort. But then I rest my head on the wall, and I realize that that word went out into the world, so I might as well keep using it.
“I’m confused, honestly,” I say. “I think I might be bi too, so I’m exploring it.”
Miles blinks. And then gapes. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’” I flop back onto the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling to avoid his expression. “Turns out I’m into being treated as a thing. A fuck-thing. Not a person. Just a hole, or whatever.”
“Huh.”
I smirk, turning my head to look at him.
“That’s the kink, right? The doll thing is centered on that.
I always liked that, I guess. Back when I hooked up with only girls, they’d just ride me while I laid there.
Which was cool. But with guys it’s different.
Like, it’s way better. Never thought about getting fucked in the ass before, but now? Turns out it’s kinda my shit.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t go monosyllabic on me, man.” I roll my eyes. “Point is, it’s not just the fucking. It’s everything about it. The way I’m manhandled. The way someone else has the say over my body.” I swallow hard. “I fucking love it.”
“That’s hot to you?”
“Fuck yeah.” I grin when he snorts. “What, you judging?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Just. Before all this, I never knew that was really a thing.”
“Well, yeah, congrats. You’re officially friends with a freak.” I spread my arms. “Ta-da.”
Miles rolls his eyes, but there’s something weird in his expression.
“So. What’s the, uh. Endgame here? Like. You just wanna be a human fleshlight forever? Don’t you want a relationship?”
“That’s the point I was getting to,” I sit down again and pull his body pillow onto my lap, shielding my sticky, half-erect cock.
“Lately I’ve been thinking about whether the kink is the only reason I like it with guys.
Or if I could actually be with a guy. Normal sex, normal—I don’t know, normal romance, maybe? ”
“Would you like being in a relationship with a guy?”
Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Would that ever work?
And when I think about that, it isn’t even just the problem of not being sure about my sexuality.
I mean, sexuality is pretty much obvious—I do like dick.
But about romance? Am I, what, homoromantic?
Biromantic? Is that a thing? But even if I’m… who?
I snort at my own thoughts.
“Dude, I’m a walking, talking sex toy. Who’s gonna fall in love with that?”
Miles doesn’t answer. He just stares, his jaw tightening into a hard line.
Yeah, I bet he’s chewing his tongue to not say “no one”. It’s fine. I get it.
“Look, it’s not that deep. I like what I like, and right now, I like getting used.
Maybe down the road I’ll want to hold hands and shit.
I guess I can figure things out later, because for now?
I just wanna get railed senseless.” I glance at him.
“Anyone hearing this outside this house would think I’m a complete freak, by the way. ”
“Anyone in this house would also think that,” Miles says, completely serious. “But we don’t care.”
I nudge his shoulder, letting out a chuckle.
“So... uh,” he starts.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Hypothetically,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair, “if I wanted to… you know. See if I actually like dick or, uh, ass. Like, regular, non-doll ass. And you, hypothetically, wanted to test the waters too...”
“Hypothetically, huh?”
“Yeah, man.” His throat bobs when I shift, turning my grin completely toward him. “Would that be...?”
“Weird?”
“I was gonna say ‘on the table,’ but sure, let’s go with weird.”
I consider it. Miles is my bro. Miles also just sucked my tits and ate my cum like it was food. Miles is currently trying to eye my dick.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “Hypothetically, if you want to experiment, I’m down.”
Miles exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against his thighs. “Cool.”
“Cool.”
He opens his mouth to keep going—and part of me hopes he’s about to ask if we can try it now. But before he can, the door slams open.
“Okay, so this is not my fault—” Walker shoulders his way through the doorway with Finn folded over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, face slack, completely blacked out. “Found him in the fucking hedges. Like. In them. Don’t ask me how.”
Thank fuck I shoved that pillow over my lap earlier, and I move it casually to make sure it’s fully covering my lap. My dick’s still half-hard, but at least Walker’s too busy being pissed to notice. Miles shifts next to me, subtly adjusting his pillow too.
I don’t know why, but I don’t want Walker asking about the doll right now.
“Dude is wasted,” he groans, heaving Finn onto the other bed. Finn flops face-first into the mattress, arms splayed. “This clown cost me my shot with this smoke-show sorority girl. She dipped the second I had to carry his ass home.”
“Damn,” Miles says, voice dry as hell. “Real tragedy.”
Walker glares at us, then at Finn’s unconscious form.
“Bro, I had her right there. She was gonna let me hit.” He mimics some crude hip motion, and Miles snorts.
“Thought you were ‘too sad for hookups.’”
Walker scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “Sadness is over.” His eyes flick to me, lingering a second too long before he shrugs. “Whatever. Now I’m too tired.”
He slaps Miles on the shoulder too hard, and stomps out, slamming the door behind him.
Miles and I look at each other.
The moment is gone.
Whatever we were about to tip into, it’s just dissolved. The room is different with Finn out cold, snoring into his pillow.
I swallow hard and push myself up from the bed. My nipples are sore as fuck, and I have to make a herculean effort to not flinch when my top drags on them. I tuck myself back into my jeans, and look at him.
“Gonna bounce,” I mutter, jerking my chin toward the door.
Miles nods, not looking at me. “Yeah. Cool.”
I linger for a second, awkward as hell, then gesture vaguely at his crotch.
“You, uh... if you need to handle that later, the doll’s on standby tonight.”
His head snaps up at that. “Kit—”
“Night, man,” I say, cutting him off before he can say some dumb shit that’ll make this weirder. I yank the door open and step into the hallway, feeling my heart pounding against my ribs.
I lean against the wall, pressing the heel of my hand against my dick through my jeans, biting back a groan. Fuck, I’m wrecked. Miles’ saliva is still drying on my chest, my nipples are throbbing, and my cock refuses to go fully soft, because—yeah, because my nipples are throbbing. Fucking great.
I should go to my room, jerk out the rest of this load, and maybe forget this conversation about hypothetical scenarios ever happened.
When I push my door open, the first thing I see is the orange point of a cigarette in the dark. Reid’s on his bed, back against the wall, one knee drawn up, elbow on it, smoke in hand. He exhales smoke toward the ceiling, lazy as fuck, not even looking at me until I drop my damp tank on the floor.
“Thought you left with some guy,” he says, voice rough like he’s been chain-smoking all night. “Dude looked ready to bend you over that counter.”
I kick my jeans into the pile with my shirt. “Had to drag Miles home. He was too high to walk.”
Reid’s gaze drags down my body, stopping at the bruise blooming on my collarbone. “Miles do that?”
“Yeah.”
Reid hums, low in his throat.
“Good.” He stubs the cig out on his headboard, the last ember dying with a hiss. “That’s good.”
I don’t ask why.
I lie down, grab my phone, and hit the Standby mode on the app. The screen lights up my face for a second before I toss it onto the nightstand. A few seconds later I hear the notification sound from Reid’s phone.
“Are you on standby tonight?”
“Yeah.”
Reid slides his lean frame off his mattress, crossing the narrow gap between our beds.
His knees hit my mattress, and then his hands are on me, possessive as always.
He curls around me like he’s trying to mold my body into his, his chest pressed against my back, his thighs bracketing mine.
His breath is hot and smoky against my neck.
“You’re all marked up,” he mutters, brushing his thumb over the bite mark Miles left behind.
I stay still. Standby means full doll-mode, so I don’t answer. But my dick twitches, because fuck yeah, I am marked and wrecked and probably reeking of dick.
I keep waiting for Reid to say some dirty praise, to tell me what a good toy I am. But he doesn’t.
“Should’ve been me,” is what he says instead, so quiet I almost miss it. And then he nips softly at my nape, raising goosebumps on my skin.
His cock is hard against my ass, but he doesn’t push in like he always does. He grinds against my cheeks once, twice, his breath hitching before he stills. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me tighter against him, his nose buried in the back of my neck.
“Sleep,” he commands.
I close my eyes.
Dolls don’t think. Dolls don’t wonder why Reid’s grip is too tight, why his heartbeat is thumping so hard against my back, or why he didn’t fuck me and used my like a cockwarmer like he usually does. Dolls just lie there, quiet and pretty, while the guy holding them falls apart.