10. Brad
10
brAD
T his was a strange start to the trip. Here we were — I was half-naked next to Dylan, and we were expected to share a bed. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed Dylan’s gaze on me, but I tried not to think much of it. He probably thought I was being dumb or trying to show off or something like that.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t help myself from asking him about the guy, just that I needed to know. Needed to figure out what made him tick, since somehow I still hadn’t figured out Dylan’s type. Just that I wanted it to be me.
Pathetic as that was.
Somehow there was that damned sadness in his gaze that I didn’t know how to help. It appeared once in a while, just this look of loss and helplessness, and it scared me anytime I recognized it. Usually, though, it would be gone before I could blink, and he’d go back to that usual sleepy expression. It only switched to this edge of determination when he was skating or playing music, and I wondered if he needed to do those things to keep himself from falling into sadness.
Dylan said nothing, just turned back to watch the Italian show. Like he didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he wished I’d stop bothering him. Unfortunately, all I could notice was how close he was next to me. I could smell his shampoo, something that reminded me of vanilla. Sweet and comforting.
Swallowing, I tried to repress the urge to pull him into my arms. Dylan and I were friends , and maybe once or twice we’d kissed, but it meant nothing, right? At least not to him, and I had to do my best to pretend they didn’t to me. Shane dared us once during a drunk party game. The other time I leaned in to whisper something in his ear and he’d turned at just the right moment that our lips met. Just an accident. Not that I didn’t replay those moments in my mind a thousand times over.
He was so beautiful, though, even if he didn’t see it. Those dark green eyes with a thousand thoughts racing behind them, the way his hair fell over his face and graced his sharp cheekbones. Dylan’s features were so delicate, more pretty than handsome, but I didn’t think he even knew half of it.
I shifted on the bed, scooting closer. I couldn’t help myself. “Do we know who that is?” I asked, my voice almost too quiet in the room, trying to break the tension in my own thoughts.
“Uh…mom or aunt, maybe? Maybe just some nice lady?” He frowned a little, trying to figure it out. “Oh…well, I think she just poisoned her. Maybe not so nice.”
The show was the last thing on my mind. He said he needed to be comfortable with someone, didn’t he? It wasn’t about hooking up with Dylan, it wasn’t about wanting him so badly that I ached. Or was it? Did I even know anymore? My head spun, and I hadn’t even had a drink. Would he push me away? Would he laugh it off and ask what was wrong with me? Would he get scared?
“Dylan…” I whispered, still almost too quiet, like I was hoping he wouldn’t hear me. Like I could change my mind.
He turned to look at me, his pretty lips parted, a question on his face. Before I could back out, I cupped his cheek so softly, like I was afraid he might break if I touched him harder. I closed the distance between us, my body feeling on fire every inch I got closer to him. He didn’t back away or laugh, just remained still as I got closer.
I paused once I could feel his breath mixing with my own. “It’s okay?” I wanted to hear him say it. Or even turn me down. Anything was better than this tension and silence. With anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d just go for it, but Dylan wasn’t just anyone else. There was so much more on the line with him.
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t push. He didn’t get scared.
He leaned in.
My entire body flooded with heat, and gratitude, and something that made me almost want to cry. We’d been here before, I tried to remind myself. I’d kissed him before, but this felt like so many other things all at once. This wasn’t a dare. This wasn’t an accident. No one was around. This wasn’t a quick kiss, and we’d go back to whatever we were doing before.
Dylan kissed me back, and I snaked my hand to the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair. His lips were so soft as they moved against me, and somehow I was struck by the sensation that this just felt so right . Something about the way our lips slotted together, about the way his hand came to rest on my chest as I kissed him.
For half a breath, I wondered if he was going to use that moment to push me away, to get some distance between us — but that never came. Dylan just leaned in, tilting his head more into the kiss. My breath caught, and my tongue swept over his bottom lip. I was trying my luck, pushing for more to see just how far he’d let me go.
To my surprise, Dylan’s lips parted, his tongue swiping across mine. A groan slipped out, and my tongue pressed inside his mouth. Everything felt so hot, and I wanted to still ask for more. Something about Dylan made me feel greedy. It was more than I had dreamed, and every nerve ending burned from the kiss.
All at once, however, he moved. Not to get away from me, not to laugh it off or tell me we were being crazy. He swung his leg over mine and straddled my hips, arms winding around my neck.
Time stood still for one hypnotic, unreal moment. Everything inside my mind screamed that this had to be a dream, this had to be a joke that I’d have to laugh off. As Dylan pressed in again, however, kissing me, I didn’t want to wake up if it was a dream. I wanted to savor his lithe body pressed against me. My arms wound around his waist to keep him there and steady myself. A reminder that he was there, he wanted this, he wasn’t running away.
Our tongues brushed together, and I groaned into the kiss. A twitch in my pants told me everything I needed to know. Could Dylan feel the way he affected me?
“Brad…” Dylan breathed out, breaking from the kiss to draw another gasp. “This is okay?”
My eyes opened. In his, there was this fleeting look of doubt, of question, even though he was echoing my own question from earlier.
The faintest hint of doubt still felt like a punch to the throat. I couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t what we did . This was new, and scary, and different. Somehow we’d ended up here, staring at each other and hoping beyond hope we were both okay .
“More than okay.” I could hear the gruff quality in my own voice.
A hint of a smile flashed across his face, almost like I’d told a joke. “You make me comfortable…I took care of myself in the shower, you know.”
Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
I stared for a moment too long. “You’re sure?”
He swallowed, and for a moment, a flash of doubt crossed his face again. “I mean…we don’t have to?—”
The words died on his lips as I leaned in and kissed him again, silencing his protests and questions and doubts. I wasn’t going to be the reason this didn’t happen.
Hands roamed everywhere, along hips and waists and chests. Mine felt Dylan’s ass and his hands graced my length, and both of us groaned into the room, still filled with the sounds of the Italian show playing in the background, long forgotten. Grabbing his shirt, I tossed it somewhere behind me, and we fumbled for only a moment to toss the rest of our clothes off.
Dylan lay on the bed, propped on the pillows, gasping for air, and I got my first good look at him. I’d seen him naked before, just in passing as one of those things that happened between friends sometimes, but I’d never seen him like this. Not that it hadn’t lingered in my mind a thousand times.
But this…seeing him turned on for me, waiting on me to pleasure him. I took a moment to appreciate his lithe but toned body, refined from so many years of skateboarding. His small little waist, his pretty cock that curved toward his stomach, already so turned on.
“You look incredible,” I couldn’t help but say.
His cheeks flushed the prettiest color of pink, something else I never saw before. Just when I thought there wasn’t much that I didn’t know about him. “Don’t embarrass me.”
I wanted to ask how he could ever be embarrassed, how could he ever feel anything but beautiful and graceful and perfect? He probably didn’t want me to do that, though. So instead, I just laughed and grabbed some lube and a condom I’d stored in one of my bags, just in case. I’d expected it to be with some random local, not my best friend. “How much did you get yourself ready?”
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, after all.
I wouldn’t say it to him for fear of him giving me one of those withering stares, but I could stay and worship him for a long time. Enjoy and tease and savor the sensations of him, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Not right now. I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to savor this moment, so I’d take what I could get.
When I got back to the bed, Dylan watched me with half-lidded eyes. “Like I said…I fingered myself. You could probably just fuck me.”
How the hell could he sound so casual at a time like this?
One side of my mouth lifted upward, and I hummed. “Oh? What got you so worked up?” I asked, even as I crawled onto the bed.
Dylan spread his legs open for me, expectantly. “I get worked up a lot, just don’t always do something about it.”
My breath caught in my throat, taking in the milky thighs, the pretty pink of his rosebud entrance. Oh, this was proving to be too tempting. Now that I knew that, images flooded my mind. Dylan in the shower fingering his pretty hole open. What kind of beautiful noises would he make?
I was about to find out.
Rolling the condom on, I grabbed the lube and squirted some onto my cock, smearing it along the length. He was in a hurry, all worked up about something. While part of me craved to tease him, to savor him for so long, at least I wouldn’t have to drive myself crazy with want. He was giving me the chance to fuck him, no questions asked. We both wanted it this desperately, didn’t we?
Grabbing my cock, I positioned myself at his entrance, and we stared at each other for a long moment. Almost like we both knew there was no going back if we went through with this. “Dylan?” I asked, like I needed his reassurance, his desire, or something.
His lips twitched, and he reached up to pull me down for a kiss. “Stop thinking, Bradley…stop thinking and just fuck me, okay?”
Almost no one ever called me Bradley, but I felt something in my chest shift at the sweet and gentle sound of his voice, even when he said something so filthy. I kissed him and pressed into him.
Even if he’d prepared himself, fucking himself open on his fingers in the shower, he was still so tight and hot around me as I pressed inside. Dylan let out a soft gasp into the kiss, and I swallowed it down, pressing insistently more and more. If he sounded like he was in pain, I’d stop.
My cock throbbed as I entered him, filling him up inch by inch, painfully slow. It was almost too much, and I wondered how I was going to last with as turned on as I was. He was just so tight , and his arms wound around my neck, holding me close to him. It took what felt like ages to bottom out — my length pressed to the hilt inside of him.
I stilled, not wanting to push him too far. I kissed him again, and every thought in my head was racing all at once. How was this real? Was I really fucking my best friend in the entire world? And he wanted me to? Somehow, despite knowing what a total dork I was, he wanted me to fuck him, and it wasn’t turning into a total disaster.
On the contrary, it felt too amazing. Like we were meant to fit together. If I thought kissing him was like magic, then I didn’t even know what to compare fucking him to.
After a moment, Dylan nodded. “I’m okay,” he reassured me.
His voice was normally so raspy and gruff, mixed with this sense of gentleness, but now it was all gentle, whispery, soft. Like he didn’t want to say too much or make too much noise. Maybe if we did, it would break the sanctity of the moment.
All I could hope was he didn’t regret this in the morning.
Slowly, I slid out of him, only to thrust back in. “Fuck, Dyl…you feel so fucking good,” I told him, raspy and voice breaking.
I didn’t want to overwhelm him or leave him in pain. It felt so good, setting up this deep, slow thrust inside his tight heat. A groan left Dylan, unable to respond, and his fingers moved to my hair, like he needed something to touch.
The sound was just as beautiful as I expected.
As we adjusted, I slid further out of him before slamming back inside. It was all so good. My cock throbbed with every thrust. His unbelievable tightness and the amazement that I was fucking someone I never thought I’d have the chance with.
“So good…faster…” There was that breathless voice again, that sense of wonder.
Like maybe Dylan couldn’t believe what was happening either. Maybe he was realizing just how good it was for us both together.
Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.
I followed his request, speeding up my thrusts to accommodate him. It wasn’t like I didn’t want the same. Everything in me burned to just fuck him hard until the bed knocked against the wall and the whole damn hotel knew what we were doing in here.
Dylan’s comfort and pleasure were more important than anything else, though. His hands trailed from my hair, and now his blunt nails scraped along my back. The faster my thrusts, the more he scratched, and the more turned on I got.
Soft moans slipped out from Dylan with every thrust, and they were the most beautiful sound. They were needy and desperate, but so hot. I grabbed his hips to steady myself and pulled back, shifting to adjust in a way that I could rest on my knees. The thrust would be deeper this way, more power behind it.
The new position broke Dylan’s hold on me, and his hands grabbed for purchase along the sheets, desperate for something to scratch and grab. He bit his lip, turning it a pretty shade of scarlet. I wanted to run my tongue along his lip, taste him, feel the way he was getting more and more desperate against me.
“Fuck…fuck, Dylan, I’m…” I warned, my words lost in the moment, my breath catching.
Dylan’s hand closed around his length, stroking himself in time with my increasingly frenzied thrusts. He looked so perfect like this, all this need and want flashing through his eyes as he took in the pleasure.
My climax hit me hard, shaking me to my very core. My hips milked the orgasm, thrusting in and out like I couldn’t help it, as pleasure spread through my entire body and sparks of delicious fire flowed through me.
By the time I’d calmed down enough to take in what was happening around me, Dylan was coming. Hips arching off the bed, ass fluttering against my cock so deliciously as he stroked himself into a finish. Release spilled all over his taught stomach and over his hand.
My breath caught in my throat. He was so fucking beautiful. And it occurred to me only then how this was potentially a terrible idea.
What the hell were we thinking?