21. Hank
HANK
Having a bar crawl in a suburban town doesn’t seem like the brightest idea when it comes to getting home. Luckily, the town allows overnight street parking, and an organization from the local college is running free designated driving trips.
After another two cups of water, Nick and I hitch a ride in a minivan with other spent bar crawlers. We get his overnight bag from my car first…as well as the “supplies.” The driver, a scrawny kid not much older than Brody, offers everyone water and barf bags.
“It’s my mom’s car. I am begging you. If you feel like you have to blow chunks, let me know. I can pull over.”
It’s eleven-thirty at night, but it might as well be three in the morning.
Darkness envelops the streets, save for the glow of Christmas lights strung up on houses.
Nick points out the window at the glow in the distance and mouths D’Angelos.
He cuddles up against me, our trophy pressing against my stomach, as neighborhoods fly by.
We’re dropped off first. With each step up to the house, my dick grows harder. Nick still seems buzzed, so I caution myself that nothing may happen tonight. We may go to sleep. But if we can keep cuddling in bed, it’d make my century.
“It’s good to be home.” Nick sits on the arm of the couch.
I immediately go to the kitchen and pour us two large glasses of water. I grab the bottle of Advil from the basket above the fridge and get two slices of bread.
“Here. Drink this. Eat this. Take these.” I hand over the water, slice of bread, and two pills.
“I’m feeling sobered up.”
“Drink some more water. Eat some food. Your body will thank you.”
He ingests all three. He seems surprised at how thirsty he was.
“I survived my first bar crawl,” he says, his reserved self coming back. Though still with his cute accent. That’s how I can tell he’s still a little drunk.
“Did you have fun?”
“A lot of fun. I really like this life.” He yawns. His bright eyes are turning droopy. “I really like you.” There’s a touch of sorrow in his voice, the same touch that’s in my chest. He’s leaving soon.
“Baltimore is only a few hours away. A few hours in the car, and I’m there.”
That doesn’t get much of a reaction out of him. He manages a half-smile.
“Can we go upstairs?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.
I nod yes. I pour us two more glasses of water, sling his overnight bag over my shoulder, then lead the way.
“Your bed looks comfy and cozy,” he says when we get to my bedroom. My heart rattles in my chest like I’m a teenager all over again, only this time I’m going to get some action. There’s a cute guy! In my bedroom! Who wants to get in my bed!
He pulls at the covers but they don’t budge. “Do you always make your bed this well?”
“Just give them a firm tug.”
Nick pulls with all his might and falls over.
“Here. Let me help.” I have to use my full upper arm strength to yank them free. “Did you pack pajamas?”
He pats his overnight bag.
“I’m going to brush my teeth with my non-Nick-approved toothpaste and get changed.” I point to the bathroom attached to my bedroom. In a few minutes, I’m going to climb into my bed with a guy—my boyfriend! We’re going to cuddle. I miss cuddling. I have a great body for cuddling.
I sleep in a T-shirt and mesh shorts. I never get cold enough to need sweats or pajama pants.
It’s a bit difficult getting changed into my sleep outfit with a rock hard boner.
Taking off pants and underwear and putting on shorts with my dick sticking straight out, in a bathroom not much bigger than a broom closet, is a challenge, but I manage.
My body is fucking chattering with anticipation.
Deep breath, Hank. Nick seems tired. He probably wants to sleep. He’s drunk. He should sleep. I’m going to hold his body against mine while we sleep. That’s a win.
I brush my teeth and use mouthwash. I take a calming breath before I exit the bathroom.
We will not be sleeping.
The lights are off. The candle I set out has been lit. Nick sits in the bed under the covers, no shirt. His glorious chest with glorious dusting of hair glows in the soft light.
A bottle of lube and a box of condoms sit on the nightstand.
“Wow,” is my only response. “You got comfortable.”
“I used your son’s bathroom to brush my teeth,” he says. The water and bread, as well as the understanding of what’s to come, sobered him up.
“Smart thinking.”
He pats the space next to him. I approach the bed. He holds his hand up.
“I’m, uh, not wearing anything.” He blushes. Like me, he isn’t a natural seducer. We’re not suave guys. But damn if it’s not working on me.
“Do you always sleep in the nude?”
He shakes his head no. “I’m not ready to go to sleep.”
Message fucking received. I yank my shirt off and shove my shorts to the floor in two seconds flat. My dick juts out in front of me, like a magnet being pulled right to Nick.
I get under the covers, the soft sheets making my skin tingle, and slide in next to Nick.
I pull Nick against me, letting my dick grind into his soft ass.
I run my hands over his back and ass and thighs, skimming over his hard cock.
I breathe in the light sweat on his neck, the scent of his clean shampoo mixed with the lingering smell of being in eight bars packed with college kids.
My fingers dance through his chest hair.
If he so much as shifts his ass, I could blow my load.
“Nick, Nick, Nick,” I whisper into his ear. Goosebumps prickle his skin. “Beautiful Nick.”
“Hank. My teddy bear, Hank.” Nick nuzzles his head against me.
He turns around and kisses me, soft at first. Our tongues flick against one another as the heat builds. I cup his chin in my hand and kiss him deeper, stroking his beard.
The scratch of our chests rubbing together sends shivers of need through my body. My cock pokes into his, then rests against his rough mound of pubic hair. All new sensations flood across me.
Our lips press harder, soft pecks giving way to hungry kisses full of need and lust. He runs his hands through my chest and stomach hair. I have a lot more of it than him.
He pulls me closer, so tight that I crush him against the bed.
“I love feeling you on me,” he says through gasps. “I want you so bad, Hank.”
“You have me.”
Nick’s hands are at my waist, and we’re kissing like it’s something we’ve been practicing for years instead of something we’ve both been pretending not to want.
His mouth is soft. Warm. Careful in a way that makes my chest ache.
We break apart just long enough to laugh—breathless, disbelieving—and then he reaches in the tight space between us and grabs my cock. His hand is lightly damp and slicks up my shaft. It takes all of my willpower not to come right away.
“Wait. This feels different from last time,” Nick says. Never something a guy wants to hear.
“W–what?”
He looks under the covers. “Did you trim?”
“Yeah, I thought…” I’m immediately weighed down in regret. “I know guys like that.”
“Not this guy.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Tomorrow, I want you to take your trimmer, and throw it in the fucking garbage.”
He strokes my cock, making me see stars.
“Deal.”
I grab his erection, thick and pulsing in my hand. We stroke each other, Nick so close to me I can feel his heart vibrate in his chest, and God, he has to feel mine. It’s like we’re both afraid if we slow down the moment might get scared and bolt.
Soon it’s just the quiet creak of my bed against the old floorboards.
Nick’s perfect hair is mussed, lips pink and swollen, looking at me like I’m something precious. Me. The funny best friend. A guy who owns too many flannel shirts and sticks his hands into toilets for a living.
“You okay?” I ask, because I always ask. “Are you drunk? Am I taking advantage of you?”
“Only in a good way.” He cups my cheek. “Hank, I solemnly swear on the Bible”—he gives my cock a squeeze—“that I am of sound mind. Please proceed accordingly.”
“You’re not giving up that accent, are you?”
His one hand digs into my back pulling me closer, tighter. You’d need the jaws of life to pull us apart.
I kiss him again. Slower this time. I let myself feel it—the way his hands slide up my back, the way he exhales when I press my forehead to his, the way my heart feels too big for my chest.
He grips both our cocks in his hand and strokes them as one. I wrap him in a bear hug and pull him flush against me. If he wants us close, you can’t get any closer.
Your teddy bear is here.
Our bodies are warm and shivering, and it feels intimate in a way that has nothing to do with skin.
I kiss along his jaw, his cheek, his mouth again. He laughs softly, fingers curling into my shoulder like he’s grounding himself. He strokes us faster.
“Wait.” I pull apart for a second and spit into his hand. “Was getting a little rough.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I tip his chin to look up at me, to let him know he couldn’t hurt me if he tried. Nothing about this is less than perfect.
“Holy shit,” I cry out as he jerks us with his slicked-up hand. I can’t help rutting against his dick, my body craving him. The mattress squeaks accordingly, and the noise of my shaking bed gets my engine revved even more.
“This is happening,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say, voice rough. “It is.”
I pull back just enough to look at him. Really look. This man who makes my chest feel steady and unsteady all at once.
Something inside me settles.
I’m falling. Not tripping. Not slipping.
Choosing.
I kiss him again, deeper, my hands framing his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks like I’m memorizing him. He kisses me back like he’s been waiting to be allowed.
We don’t rush. We don’t need to.
“My beautiful Nick,” I whisper as if it were a prayer to the universe.
“I’m coming,” his voice cracks out.
“Right there with you. Don’t stop.” I feel him clench under me.
His hot seed pools over his fist and dribbles down my shaft as he comes undone. I moan against his lips as I join him.
Slowly, our hearts return to a normal pace. I gaze at him in the candlelight, my beautiful Nick.
“One second,” I whisper. I run into the bathroom and grab a towel for us. Usually, this would be the mega-awkward part of sex. But it only feels more intimate as I wipe him off. We have nothing to hide. We’re adults who know how ejaculation works.
Once we get cleaned off, Nick cuddles against me. He kisses my chest, rubs his face in it like a cat marking territory. A sense of peace overtakes me. Not only do I want to be here, but I admit to myself that I deserve to be here. I am worthy of this man and these feelings.
As the warm hum of his body in my arms lulls me to sleep, I think about my past relationships. I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve been married. I exchanged vows and made a child with someone. And yet…for the first time in my life, I’m beginning to understand what love feels like.