Atticus #2
As his cock softens, having been milked thoroughly, I release it and rip his sweater from between his teeth to keep it in my grip. My fingers continue to pound into him as I plunge my tongue into his mouth, consuming his pleasure so desperately that I can taste the salt of his tears.
My face becomes wet with them, spurring me on.
“Please,” Cameron begs, pulling back just enough to speak. “S-stop. It’s too much; I’m going to die.”
“Is this too much, sweetheart?” I ask, slowing my fingers so that they’re sliding in and out of him with a calm, teasing pace.
“Yes!”
Gently, I pull out of him, lifting my fist to my mouth to lick his come from my fingers. Cameron shudders, full body, and watches me with sated, startled eyes.
“You taste so sweet,” I tell him, keeping our eyes locked. “Did it feel good?”
He nods, slow and unsure as his eyes search mine. Then, as if startled, he stands up straight.
“What time is it?” he asks, voice shaky and scared.
Wiping my fingers on my shirt, I pull my phone from the pocket of my joggers. “7:45. Why?”
“Fuck!” Cameron curses. “I… I have to go.”
He seems hesitant, like he’s afraid of hurting my feelings. But I remember what Cassie said about his new job starting today.
“First day?” I supply, grinning at him.
Cameron’s shoulders sag, a soft breath leaving him. “Yes, first day. I can’t be late.”
Still using my shirt, I wipe the come from his stomach and bend over to drag his underwear and shorts up his legs, tucking him away.
“Have a nice first day, then,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck, right where his pulse is fluttering.
Cameron gasps, his body sagging against mine. “T-thank you.”
“I’ll call you,” I promise, pulling away from him.
“C-call?” Cameron asks, eyes unfocused as I let him stand on his own two feet.
“Yes. I’ll call you.”
As if the world has suddenly made itself known once again, Cameron’s expression becomes a bit closed off. He straightens his spine and takes a sidestep, backing away from me.
“Right,” he draws quietly, no longer meeting my eyes. “Later, then.”
He turns on his heel, heading back the way he came.
“Cameron,” I call, my chest suddenly tight.
“Yes?” he replies, not bothering to turn and face me.
I watch his back expand, his hands shaking at his sides.
“Answer it. When I call.” My tone leaves no room for argument.
Luckily, he doesn’t try. Instead, he nods once and continues on his way.
It’s been two days. No, I haven’t called, but I know he just started work and is probably exhausted.
That doesn’t mean Cassie hasn’t reached out, though. She babbles about us hanging out again and how she and her friends went to a coffee shop in town this afternoon.
Her friends, who include Cameron, probably.
And maybe there is a bit of hesitation over calling because the way he left the woods the other day felt… off. Like he was regretting what we did. Like he was disappointed in himself.
A part of me wants to turn up in town, lingering at his normal hangouts until I find him again. But that would be stalking, right? And I’m not a stalker.
I don’t want him to regret touching me or me touching him. I don’t want him to feel disappointed.
“Atticus?” Abigail calls, banging her small fist on my door.
She has trouble pronouncing my name at her small age, so it actually sounds more like Att-i-qwus, but I find that incredibly endearing.
I open the door to my quarters, greeting her. “Hello, little one.”
“Can we play?” she asks, her big green eyes blinking up at me.
“Play what?”
As I lean down to be her height, she giggles and says, “Dress up!”
A soft chuckle leaves me at the thought of me in makeup with bands in my hair. “Don’t you think Atty would like that more? He loves pretty clothes.”
Abigail’s eyes light up, bouncing in place.
“Okay! I’ll ask!” As she speaks, she takes me in, and Abigail stops bouncing. “Are you okay? You look sad, Att-i-qwus.”
My chest warms, a hand lifting to rub over her cheek.
“I’m not sad,” I tell her. “Just thinking.”
“Thinking,” she repeats, tugging at the sleeves of her dress. “You got this!”
Her optimism is infectious, though she does make my situation sound far simpler than I perceive it to be.
“Thanks, Abigail,” I murmur, patting her head.
She grins, then she’s sprinting off to find Atlas, and I’m watching her go. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to play; I just know I don’t want to dress up. Plus, my baby brother eats that stuff up.
As I watch her disappear around the corner and onto the second-floor landing, I stand.
Alright. Enough stalling. If my baby sister is right about anything, it’s that I got this. If Cameron rejects me, that’s his loss.
And mine, technically.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I stare at his contact for a moment before tapping his number and pressing it to my ear.
It rings once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four—
“Hello?” His voice is strained, a bit careful.
“Hello, Cameron,” I reply, proud that my tone is so calm and controlled. “How are you?”
It’s silent for a moment. Cameron says nothing, but I can hear his breathing.
Then, he says, “It’s been two days.”
I freeze. Was he counting? I mean, I was, so I know that math is correct, but I wasn’t aware he’d be waiting like this.
I grin. “It has.”
“I just figured… well, I hadn’t heard from you.” There is a hint of anxiety in his voice, and it sounds as if he’s shuffling around on the other end.
As if he’s just as on edge as I am.
“I was giving you time to settle into your new job,” I tell him, though it’s only a half-truth.
“Oh.” The sound is soft, resigned.
“What are you doing?” I press, sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Nothing, just standing outside of the gym,” he answers.
“The gym, huh? Are you about to work out?” I let my flirty tone drip into the receiver, imagining him straining under a barbell or sweating on a treadmill.
Hot.
“Uh, yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s back day.”
A small laugh falls from my lips, my left fist tightening on my lap. “If you want, I can put you on your back instead. It’ll be quite the workout.”
Cameron makes a startled choking noise that has me laughing again, and he stutters out his response. “A-Atticus! You can’t just… say things like that.”
“And why not?” I pry, listening for every shuddering breath or quiet huff of air he’ll give me.
“Because! It’s inappropriate.”
“I can think of plenty of inappropriate things I want to say to you, but I’d rather do them if you’ll let me,” I tell him, voice low.
“Atticus,” he repeats, but this time it’s a soft whisper. A plea.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
It’s silent again. My heart is thundering so loudly I’m afraid I’ll miss whatever he says next, but I can’t seem to calm it.
Say yes, I mentally beg.
“When will I see you again?” he asks instead, his voice quiet and timid.
I can picture it: him in his workout clothes as he stands outside of the gym like a vision of pure male dominance as he whimpers into the phone like a desperate little thing.
It makes me hot. It makes me needy.
The moment he spoke to me, the moment he became more than the guy who watched me with reverence for so many years, I’ve been entranced.
“Whenever you want, baby,” I tell him, my hand moving to massage myself through my slacks.
“Even if… even if it’s to hang out? To get to know each other?” he whispers.
Oh. Not for sex? He wants to genuinely spend time with me? Well… I’m not necessarily opposed to that, actually. Not at all.
Which is incredibly rare for me, may I add.
“If that’s what you want,” I reply. “If you want something and I can give it to you, I will.”
The last bit startles me because I wasn’t previously aware of the lengths I would go to for his happiness. To guide and protect and claim him, as I desperately crave to.
Maybe I will marry him. Maybe this is a fast track to the start of an epic love story.
Cameron’s breathing grows heavier. “I want that. I want to hang out with you, please.”
He sounds so soft, so submissive that I want to groan.
“Tell me where and when,” I command, gripping my phone even tighter.
“Well… I’m going to Checkers tonight with Cassie. Want to come?”
With Cassie? Why are they always together? I know she’s a naturally flirtatious girl, but are she and Cameron actually… No way. If they were, he wouldn’t have gotten on his knees for me. Right?
“The diner?” I ask, deciding to pocket my other questions.
“Yeah. If you don’t want to, no biggie. I just thought—”
“What time?” I interrupt.
Cameron releases a relieved breath. “Is 7 p.m. okay? We’re getting shakes.”
“That works,” I say. I’ll have to skip my own workout, but that’s alright.
I’m not usually one to be comfortable with interrupting my routine, but it seems that Cameron pulls it out of me.
I expect him to say okay—and goodbye—and to head off to his workout. But instead, he pauses, breathing softly.
“Atticus?” he finally mumbles, and something in my chest tightens again.
“Yes, Cameron?”
“Uh… I just… I liked what we did. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. And I want to… I want to understand you so that I can feel good about it. So that I can make it okay,” he confides.
I’m sorry, but what? He shouldn’t? He wants to make it okay?
This man has some crazy internalized homophobia that he’s working through, and normally I would back away from that carefully, but right now… I just want to fix it.
“I understand,” I say, though I really don’t. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“Okay,” he replies, relief clear in his tone. “See you then.”
And Cameron hangs up.