STAY #2
I want to whine about the fact that I’ve never been awkward in this department at all, but rationally, it makes sense. Qiang isn’t just a hook-up; it matters to me what they think of me tonight and definitely in the morning. So I’m nervous, really fucking nervous, and so fucking needy.
Qiang laughs. “Okay, well, it’s not like I haven’t heard most of it before.
But before we got sidetracked, I was going to say we should take this upstairs.
As much as it’d be kind of deserved for Qi or Tristan to walk in on us after the gratuitous amount of making out, and oversharing their random ass, rarely ever actually sex-related, but still sexual as fuck kinks, he’s still my brother. ”
I nod, elated that they still want this, and relieved that they aren’t calling out my weirdness at the moment.
“Fair enough. Lock your legs around my waist,” I tell them, tapping them lightly on the thigh.
Qiang huffs and rolls their eyes. “Shocking as it might seem, despite having about twenty-one years of successful practice at it, I am perfectly capable of walking.”
I have to bite back a laugh because leave it to Qiang to take the simplest of instructions and turn it into something to get all prickly about.
I’d complain if it weren’t for secretly loving this side of them.
I don’t know what it is about prickly Qiang that gets me going, but it’s one of my favorite versions of them, and I might have an unhealthy obsession with finding new ways to bring it out as much as possible.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. But I’ve spent months wishing to have you wrapped around me, and now that I’ve got my dreams in my arms, I’m not ready to let go.”
“You are ridiculously cheesy,” they huff, trying so hard to hide a smile and failing miserably.
“And you’re so fucking into it!” I tease, nudging their chin with my nose before trailing little kisses down their neck.
Qiang squirms beneath me, tightening their arms around my neck and their legs around my waist.
“Marcus, bedroom!” they hiss in my ear, the sound sending goosebumps down my spine.
“So demanding!” I tease, pushing myself up from the couch and taking Qiang with me. Their mouth descends, and a growl of pure satisfaction rumbles deep inside my chest when their tongue caresses mine.
My body is so pent up and hungry that once I get into my room and safe from any potentially prying eyes, I thrust them against the wall.
Their legs are locked tight around my waist, and their hands are woven through my dreads and splayed across my skull.
Warm pinpricks against my skin, grounding me to the perfection in my arms.
“Marcus. There’s a perfectly good bed right behind you,” they whine, and when I say whine, I mean whine.
They’ll explain for hours how they never whine, but the truth is, they whine so much they’ve turned it into an art form. Not that I’m really complaining because most of the time, the more they whine, the more it means I’m succeeding in instigating them.
That’s probably not healthy, but considering the hills we’ve climbed to reach this point, I don’t think they’re complaining about it any more than I am.
“It’s several steps away; the wall is right here. Priorities, Qiang,” I remind them before gliding my hips along their very hard for me dick that their pajamas aren’t doing a damn thing to hide.
A heady whine escapes their lips as their head falls back against the wall.
“This is going to end embarrassingly fast,” they breathe out.
“Yeah?” I husk against their skin before taking full advantage of their exposed neck. Their fingers flex while their body moves against mine, seeking more friction.
I’m hoping they’ll elaborate because I know why it’s going to be embarrassingly fast for me, and I’m curious to know if it’s because they’ve been celibate too.
It’s not like they’ve brought anyone here, and with everything going on, I doubt they’ve been with anyone, but I’m not around them all the time, so who knows?
Not that it matters. Well, I guess it does a bit because I’m a jealous fucker, but it won’t matter in how I treat them because they’ve had every right to do whatever they want since I’ve known them.
But if they have been dry like me, and maybe for the same reasons that I have, then you know, ego boost and all.
“Been a while,” they breathe out on the cusp of a sigh of pleasure.
“How long?” The words push from my lips straight into the sensitive hollow just below their ear, right before I lightly bite down on the supple skin.
“May-ah-ish?” They squirm so perfectly beneath me as they tell me they’ve been holding out for even longer than I have.
“Since we met?”
Qiang huffs out a laugh that turns into more of a moan while I find a new spot on their neck to mark.
“I don’t generally do hook-ups when I go home to visit the parentals; I usually save that for here. But then, when I moved here, it became more about you, even if it took a ridiculously long time for me to admit that.”
I pull away from their neck long enough to search their eyes for a moment.
“Mine’s August.” I match their open honesty with mine.
“I tried really hard to move on in the beginning, but when you moved in, it blew the attempt out of the water.”
Qiang’s eyes hold onto mine with something heavy in them. “So you really never slept with Imani?”
I shake my head. “I told you I didn’t.”
“I know, I just–” Qiang pauses and swallows hard.
They turn to look away, but I reach up and hold their face to keep their eyes on mine.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’ve never felt like this for anyone until you. Maybe I slept around a lot before you came along, but that all ended when you moved in. You’re it for me, all I want, all I respond to,” I remind them, hoping they can see the sincerity in my words.
Qiang nods, the heaviness in their gaze being replaced by relief, before they lean down and kiss me hard. Their tongue prods against mine, and all thoughts of the conversation disappear like wisps of clouds on the horizon.
I pivot away from the wall and carry Qiang to the bed. Instead of dropping them on it, I hold on tight, climb onto the bed, and crawl up it without letting go until their head rests against my satin pillow.
Their hair halos around them as their legs drop from around my waist, and I just take them in for the millionth time tonight.
It’s like seeing all of these versions of them that I’ve only ever dreamed of and so desperately wanted.
None of them is quite how I envisioned them, but a thousand times better because they’re real, not imagined.
Their hands find their way beneath the hem of my shirt, and they skirt their fingers up my back. A heavy sigh works its way out of me at the touch that sends a shiver down my spine.
My mouth finally leaves theirs so I can strip the shirt off of me, before I lean back down and slowly glide my lips down their body, tracing patterns into their skin with my tongue. I drop a steady stream of kisses, tasting their body one inch at a time.
Their Adam’s apple as it bobs, a little mole just beneath their left collarbone, another one just below their right nipple. Little mewls follow each of my exploratory kisses until I halt my descent.
I look up and meet their half-lidded, glazed-over eyes and lean down to place a very deliberate kiss between their belly button and the hem of their shorts.
Their body ripples with the shaky breath they exhale at my touch.
"Don't tease," they whine so prettily.
I’ve spent a borderline creepy amount of time fantasizing about having this person beneath me, and having them needy enough for my touch to whine for it undoes me in a way I didn't think I could be undone.
But of course, I can't just accept their need for what it is. I have to reach out and touch it, play with it, test its borders and boundaries to see how far I can stretch it. I flick the tip of my tongue along the hem of their shorts, pulling the elastic up just enough to drive them wild.
"Don't tease?" I purr, biting my lip to hide my smile when that stunning flash of irritation lights up their eyes.
Most of the time, they’re wound up so tight that most people can’t unravel them, but something about me makes it almost child’s play to rile them up, and I live for it. I love it when they drop all their barriers and snap back.
"You mean like you did with the sexy phone call?"
Their eyes widen just a touch before their head falls back against the pillow, and they let out an exasperated groan.
"You weren't supposed to hear that."
I slowly work their shorts down and discard them. The sight of them, bare before me, both physically and emotionally, is what dreams are made of.
They are perfect; long lines and smooth tanned skin. The ruby head of their uncut cock peeks out from their foreskin, and they're so hard, I can see the small pulses running through it as it throbs. Their eyes are on me as I run my hands up their thighs with one mission in mind.
"But I did, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent countless nights wondering what it was your imagination had me doing to you that had you moaning my name like that."
It's something I've wondered since the night it happened. My eyes flicker to theirs, hoping they'll answer the curiosity in my observation.
"Your cock down my throat," they say without hesitation.
No shame, no holding back, just bare honesty.
The thought of them touching me, turning them on that much instead of anything I was doing to them, has me sitting up and kissing them hard, trying to use the kiss as a way to manage that rumbly possessive power in my gut that's always ready to pounce and devour them whole.
It's practically impossible to keep it quiet on most days, and sometimes I wonder if they have even an inkling of what they do to me.
"Fuck, Qiang, you can’t just say shit like that," I breathe into their mouth as I pull away.