Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Christian
It's late when I get home from my mom's house.
The apartment is completely dark, not even a lamp illuminating the space when I walk in. The door clicks shut behind me, loud in the silence, and I stand there for a second to let my eyes adjust.
“Dev?” I call quietly.
No response. My gut drops as I kick off my shoes. Logan and Salem got a hotel, and Owen's staying with his parents for the night. Last I heard, Dev was on his way back home, but that was a few hours ago. I pull out my phone to check his message again.
Logan's dropping me off at the apartment. Tonight was kind of a lot, my head isn't in a great space.
I'd responded with “Take a nap, I'll be home soon,” but that went unanswered. My heartbeat kicks up a notch.
“Devon?” I try again, louder this time.
A beat of silence passes, then from down the hall—
“In here.”
Relief washes over me as I follow the sound to my room, where I find him stretched across the bed in a pair of my sweatpants. The dim glow from The Ex Wife's terrarium lights up half his face, the other covered by his arm. Roots by Imagine Dragons quietly plays in the background.
“Were you sleeping?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
He exhales slowly. “Nah. Just thinking.”
“Bad Thanksgiving?”
“Weird Thanksgiving,” he huffs.
I step inside and stop by the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd him even though I… kind of want to? For a moment, neither of us speaks.
“How was yours?” he asks eventually.
“Loud,” I shrug, pulling off my shirt before letting my jeans slide to the floor. “My mom cooked enough food to feed a small village. We’ll be eating on leftovers for a month.”
He releases a snort, but says nothing else.
“You wanna talk about it?”
The corners of his jaw tighten, then relax again. “Yeah. Maybe. I just… need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need, pastelito.”
When he finally drops his arm to look at me, something in his expression tugs at my chest.
“Come here,” he murmurs, holding out a hand. His warm palms slide up my thighs as I straddle his hips in nothing but my underwear. “I missed you. Is that okay to say?”
Well, that…
Fuck, that makes my heart hurt.
“You could have come with me,” I tell him, my own hands wandering a path over his chest.
“I know. But I think… I think I needed tonight to happen.” He turns his gaze over to my stereo, brows furrowed. “My parents weren't what I was expecting.”
“Which was?”
“I don't know, cold, I guess? Growing up, they weren't around much, and after they told me the truth, I ran. Never looked back. That was ten years ago, but they… they welcomed me today. Told my younger brothers the truth of who I was. I spent all of dinner getting to know them, and even though it was nice, I just kept feeling like maybe it was too late to try.”
I move my fingers up to rub away the tension in his neck. “It's not. They're still little, man. Plenty of time to make new memories.”
“That's what my mother kept saying.” Dev leans into my touch, his eyes closing briefly.
“It's just a shitty situation all around.
I get that they couldn't tell me the truth until I was an adult, and I know they were just kids themselves when they had me.
Maybe I shouldn't have spent so long running from them.
I just know I don't want to run anymore. From anything.”
My movements halt as I glance up to find his gaze on my face. The heavy look in his eyes quickens my pulse. “You talking about us?”
He slowly nods. “Us. Life. All the things that might end up hurting me in the end. Maybe, sometimes the pain makes it worth it. The memories and experiences make it worth it.”
“I'd never do anything to hurt you,” I murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. “Not again.”
“Again?” His head tilts, hair rumpling against the pillow.
It's my turn to nod, and I drop my gaze over his stomach.
“Last year, we all left you in a pretty bad state.
Still healing from a punctured lung, probably addicted to pills and shit.
You kept reaching out to me, but… I fucking blocked you, man.
After all that shit with Arya went down, I was scared to get close to you again.
But you needed me, and I wasn't there.” Raising my eyes again, I give him my full attention, because I want him to see how much I mean this next part.
“I'm sorry, Dev. I know I can't fix it, but I promise on everything I care about that I'll never abandon you again.”
The breath leaves his lungs in one quick gust. He searches my face, eyes glistening slightly as his lips part in surprise. And when he pulls me down to crush our mouths together, I let him, if only to pour all of my guilt and shame into the kiss.
“Christian,” he whispers as our tongues tangle together. His hands trail down my back, sending shivers down my spine. “Christian, I… fuck. I don't…”
“You don't need to say anything. Just know that I always keep my promises and I never turn my back on my family.”
He smiles against my lips. “You saying I'm your family now, hot shot?”
I pull back to look at him, brows raised in sincerity. “Yes.”
The grin on his face slowly fades, morphing into something tender. His palms slide down to squeeze my asscheeks gently, which only makes it harder to ignore the boner currently digging into his stomach.
“Christian,” he says again, desperate this time as he lifts his hips to grind his own hard cock against my crease.
“Yeah, pastelito?”
Nuzzling into my neck, Dev bites down with just enough pressure to make me hiss. “Can I fuck you? For real this time. Not platonically, not just quick to get off. I want to make love to you, baby.”
I swear my heart jumps into my fucking throat before dropping straight to my balls.
“Yeah. Okay.” I blow out a breath and sit up to stare at him. “I've never bottomed, though, so like… probably go easy on me with your anaconda.”
He chokes out a laugh, the look of delight on his face giving me palpitations as he palms my cock over my underwear. “I'll get you nice and relaxed for me, I promise. Kinda have something I've been wanting to try with you, anyway.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” A hot as fuck smirk curls his lips, those whiskey-brown eyes taking on a wicked glint. “Tell me, hot shot. You ever had your salad tossed?”
My…
My what.
“You want to eat my ass?”
He licks his lips. “Can I? Please, baby, I promise it'll feel good.”
Holy shit.
My cock gives a rallying burst of precum, but I just blink down at the fucker beneath me, feeling dumbfounded.
He lifts a brow. “Not your thing?”
“Well, I mean. Yeah? Like I've… I've eaten lady ass before but like… You want to eat my ass? Dude ass?”
“Fuck yeah, I do.” Devon squeezes my cheeks for emphasis as he presses his hard length into me again. “Really, really bad. Will you let me?”
“Okay,” I say, kind of in a daze, but also kind of really excited to try it. “You're like… a really dirty man.”
He taps my hip with a grin, gesturing for me to lie on my stomach. “You love it, though.”
Yeah, he's not wrong. The stuff he gets us into turns me on, and I'm not ashamed of it—even the oatmeal thing.
Stretching out on the mattress, I rest my forehead against my arm and wait for Dev to straddle me from behind. His warm thighs encompass mine as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs to tug them down.
“You've got a cute ass,” he chuckles, giving it a rough slap.
I inhale sharply before glaring at him over my shoulder. “Spanking ain't one of my kinks. Stop that.”
“Shame.” His palms lightly grab my cheeks, and he spreads them wide to expose me to the air. “Goddamn, I forgot you said you shave. You're fucking smooth.”
“Aerodynamics,” I grunt defensively, letting my head fall back into my arms. “You know, for like stunts and shit.”
Dev lets out a snort. “Don't think that's how it works.”
“Shut up. You don't know.”
He hums as his thumb softly brushes my asshole. “You sure you've never played with yourself here?”
“No,” I nearly growl, then pause. “Okay, Arya may have rubbed it a bit during head once or twice. Three times max. But she never like… stuck a finger all the way in there.”
“Did you like it?”
My hips jerk involuntary. “I mean, yeah. Any straight dude who says he doesn't like a hot woman touching his asshole is lying.”
That makes him go still. “Are you saying you're straight?”
I lift my head again and turn to scowl at him. “Really? Look where we are right now. You're about to dive face-first into my chocolate starfish before putting your dick in there. I am definitely not straight.”
Devon barks out a laugh, his shoulders shaking as he bends forward to plant his forehead between my shoulder blades. “That… Jesus. Never call it that again, fucking hell.”
“Don't ask dumb questions, jackass.”
He places a lingering kiss on my back before licking his thumb to massage the sensitive skin in my crease. “Okay. You're not straight, then. Last I heard, you were just curious.”
The saliva on his finger provides some slickness, and my cock releases another spurt of precum at the sensation. “Consider my curiosity quenched. Or whatever the word is. Sated? I don't fucking know, but I really like you, and I really like your dick.”
He doesn't immediately answer, instead driving me crazy with that light, slow caress. When his thumb halts at my hole and presses in ever so slightly, a question I've been meaning to ask springs to the forefront of my mind.
Honestly, now probably isn't the right time for it, but if the answer is what I think it is, then there really isn't a right time.
Keeping my face down, I close my eyes and finally speak. “Can I ask you something?”
Devon stiffens above me, almost like he can sense where this is about to go. “Sure.”
It takes me a moment to gather my words. “The whole prep thing… Why don't you like it?”
A long stretch of silence follows the question.
“My grandparents used to send me to a religious summer camp when I was a kid,” he eventually responds, voice flat. “There was a particular counselor there who felt it was my fault for his less-than-pure thoughts, and he took it out on me in a lot of ways. I'm sure you can guess how.”
White-hot anger lances through me, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “What that sick fuck did was not your fault, Dev.”
His lips quirk slightly. “Easy, baby. I know that.”
Warmth blooms throughout my chest, like it usually does when he calls me that. “Did your grandparents know?”
“Nah. Only thing they noticed was when I started acting out, and they'd punish me for it.” He continues massaging me, and maybe it should feel weird while we're talking about this, but honestly…
it doesn't. It's a whole new level of trust and intimacy I've never experienced with anyone before.
“I refused to go back anyway once the abuse got worse, but enough damage had already been done.”
“I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that.”
His shrug jostles the mattress. “I think it's why I got so angry when my parents told me the truth about who they were. I blamed them for it, for abandoning me. Partly, I still do, but after tonight… I don't know anymore.”
My body starts to relax, his gentle touch serving as a comforting connection between us more than anything else. “It's okay not to know how to feel, especially when it comes to parents. Everyone knows they try their best, but that doesn't mean their best is enough sometimes.”
“You talking about your mom?”
“My dad,” I correct. “Yeah, he was a piece of shit, but I saw all the times he actually tried.
My siblings don't remember him as I do. Maybe Carlos, a little, but it's different.
When Mom kicked him out and he never came back, I was confused for a long time.
Still have days when I wonder where he went and what kind of person he turned out to be. I don't think that'll ever go away.”
“Yeah.” Devon leans forward to ghost a kiss across the back of my neck. “For what it's worth, hot shot, he missed out. You're pretty amazing.”
My stomach does that weird, swoopy shit again. “So are you. Your grandparents should be proud.”
He scoffs at that, but continues to dance his lips over my skin. “I don't feel like I've done anything worthy.”
“Dude.” Twist onto my back, I give him my full attention. “Do you know how hard it is to rise above a stigma? Like, statistically speaking, kids that grew up like you did don't make it out clean.”
He doesn't respond, just bounces his gaze around my face as I continue.
“If I've learned anything from seeing what Taylor went through, what Xed and Salem went through, it's that abuse is a cycle.
It repeats itself, and it's hard as fuck to break free from it.
But you're here, man. You're here, and you're sober, and the fact that you wake up every day to try is worth a hell of a lot. Don't sell yourself short.”
His eyes grow wide, expression shifting through a multitude of emotions I can't place. The hairs start to rise on my arms the longer he stares.
“What?” I murmur.
He swallows hard, hand sliding up my side to rest just beneath my ribs. “Christian, I…” Trailing off, he shakes his head once. “Fuck.”
An odd pressure envelops me when I reach up to touch his cheek, like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. “Dev?”
His voice drops when he finally speaks, barely more than a breath against my palm. “I think I might love you.”
My heart stutters hard enough that I forget how to breathe. I search his face, waiting for the punchline or the panic. For the metaphorical rug to be yanked from beneath my feet.
But it never comes.
Instead, he looks terrified. And so painfully hopeful that it makes my chest ache.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he whispers, holding my gaze.
“I think,” I say quietly, running a thumb over his lip piercing, “I might love you too.”
His chest heaves as he closes his eyes briefly. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
I tug him down and press our mouths together, opening for him when his tongue gently prods inside.
We spend a long while like that, just kissing and touching, coaxing my cock back to life.
Devon takes it in his hand, stroking softly as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses over my nipples and abs.
When he gets to my groin, he looks up at me with sparkling eyes, so much tenderness in his features that my fucking heart hurts from the weight of it.
“Can I still taste you?” he asks, kissing around the base of my shaft.
A shaky laugh leaves my throat. I spread my legs, feeling lighter inside than I have my entire life. “Do you even have to ask? I'm yours, pastelito. You can do whatever you need.”