Connor smiled. “Well, I’m still going to find out who it is before I go home. You’ve never not told me who you’re with, so I’m guessing he must be someone special.”
I knew he was deliberately trying to get me to give in, but his words were closer to the truth than he realised. I ignored him in favour of unlocking the door, calling out as it clicked open.
“I’m home! I need help. I found some weird rando at the station who insisted on following me home.”
“Oh yeah?” Simon’s voice called from the kitchen, accompanied by a low chuckle. “Are they nicer than you? If so, they can have your room, and you can leave.”
“You cheeky bastard!” I cried with mock horror, and I heard Connor laughing beside me. “And I thought we were friends.” I leant against the kitchen door, watching Simon stacking things in the fridge.
“I suppose,” he said, his voice trailing off as he turned to look at me. I knew why. The shirt I was wearing was nearly the same shade of pastel blue as the panties he’d been wearing the other night when I’d bent him over the bed and fucked him. I hadn’t let him take them off, just pushed them to the side. They’d looked so pretty against his skin I hadn’t been able to resist. They’d looked even prettier afterwards, soaked with cum.
Simon swallowed.
I smirked at him and winked. For a moment, I really wished Connor wasn’t here because there were so many things I wanted to do to Simon.
“It’s because I’m better than you, and you know it,” Connor said, interrupting my train of thought as he squeezed past me into the kitchen. “Simon!”
Simon chuckled as he was swept into another of Connor’s hugs, returning it with a soft smile. “Hey, Connor. It’s good to see you again. You look fabulous as always.”
“Thank you! I wasn’t sure because this jumper is getting kinda old.”
“It looks really pretty,” Simon said. “Did you have a good trip?”
“Not too bad, I managed to get a seat to myself. I spent the whole journey listening to music and planning routines. I want to enter pole competitions in the Professional category next year, so I need to get choreographing!”
“Well, let us know when they are, and we’ll come watch.” Simon smiled, picking up the last of his shopping and placing it in the fridge. Connor tilted his face, but I couldn’t quite see his expression. I knew what he was thinking though, because I was thinking the same. Simon had casually grouped him and I together, like we were a couple… There was no hesitation to his words either. I stared at him. Once upon a time that realisation would have terrified the fuck out of me, but now all I felt was this intense sense of longing because I wanted it to be true. I wanted us to be together more than anything else in the world.
I’d fallen for Simon hook, line, and sinker.
Connor turned, squinting at me as if he was trying to work something out.
Shit, I bet my longing was written all over my face. Nothing to do now except forcefully deny it until Connor went home. I’d deal with the rest of this shit then.
Simon closed the fridge, a contented smile on his lips. It made him look so beautiful, and I desperately wanted to kiss him.
“What time is the table booked for again?” he asked. I’d booked the three of us a table at Ruby’s, this amazing Asian street food pop-up that Simon said did the best ramen and fried chicken katsu curry that he’d ever had. He’d raved about it, and I thought it would be the perfect place for the three of us to go.
When I’d first asked Simon, he’d looked confused, like he hadn’t expected to be invited. I’d jokingly said I wasn’t leaving him at home with Steve to watch more of their fucking awful documentaries. I’d had enough nightmares from the one they’d been watching two weeks ago about some creepy asshole who turned his victims into dolls in his basement.
But mostly it was because I wanted him to come with us. He wasn’t just my friend anymore, regardless of what I’d intended. He was so much more to me, and this felt like a tiny way of acknowledging it without actually having to say anything.
“Er, um… seven.” I shook my head, trying to sort my thoughts quickly and file away the unnecessary ones for later.
“Do you want to go soon? If we’re there a bit early we can have a drink at the bar?” Simon asked, looking between Connor and me.
“I think that sounds like an excellent plan!” Connor said. “Just give me five minutes to put my stuff in your room and freshen up. Are you still okay sharing?”
I nodded. “Of course. We’ve been sharing since we were kids. I’m used to your snoring by now.”
“I don’t snore!” Connor said, looking horrified as he disappeared out of the kitchen.
“He totally does,” I said to Simon quietly. “He sounds like a kitten though. It’s fucking adorable.” Simon snorted. I stepped across the kitchen, quickly leaning in for a kiss, giving myself one last taste of his mouth before tomorrow.
“Hey,” I murmured against his lips. “I kept thinking about you today.”
“Oh? All good things I hope.” His lips were soft, and I tasted cherry lip balm on them.
“Always. I was thinking about what we could do tomorrow while we have the house to ourselves. Steve has a match, and Connor’s workshop is from ten until four.”
A little shiver ran through Simon, then he smiled. “Hmmm, maybe you could do some laundry?” He chuckled. “Or hoover the living room. It’s your turn this week.”
“Ugh, that sounds fucking awful!” I heard the click of Connor’s heels on the floor, so I gave Simon a quick last kiss and stepped away, checking my pockets to make sure I had everything.
“Ready to go?” Connor asked, sticking his head around the door. I nodded and pulled out my phone to order an Uber, praying I could get through tonight without giving myself away.
Ruby’s was amazing.
We got there a little early, and Connor ordered us three cocktails at the bar that were much, much stronger than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t realised how potent the cocktail was until I’d drunk half of it. By the time we got to our table, I was definitely not sober, but I didn’t actually care.
We ordered some food, and Connor asked for another round of drinks as we all sat chatting. I sipped my drink and watched Simon and Connor arguing playfully about the lead actor in Final Cause. I’d always thought someone like that—tall, muscular and handsome with a slightly dominating attitude—would be Connor’s type. But he’d dated men like that in the past and it had never ended well. Simon, on the other hand, was all for it.
“But he’s so… so…” Simon said, carefully searching for a word as he waved his spoon around. Tipsy Simon was adorable. “Powerful.”
Connor giggled, and I wondered again what was in these cocktails. I made a mental note not to let Connor order any more of them, or we’d all be hungover as hell in the morning, and I wasn’t babysitting either of them. “Do you like powerful men then, Simon?”
Simon flushed deep pink and spluttered. “M-maybe?”
“That’s so cute!” Connor said, draining the last of his drink. “You should date Taylor. He’s bossy as fuck! And he’s got cuffs in the little sex toy box he keeps in the back of his wardrobe.”
Simon’s face turned from magenta to scarlet so fast I thought he might actually explode. “I-I’m, um, I’m going to go… I’ll be back in a second.” He hopped out of his seat and scuttled off towards the toilets at top speed. Connor watched him go and then rounded on me as soon as Simon was out of earshot.
“Are you two fucking?”
“What? No!” It was my turn to be flustered now. I wondered if I could also take Simon’s approach and run away. Fucking hell.
“Really? Really?” Connor asked, stretching out the syllables and looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you two seriously not fucking?”
“No, why would you think that?” I shoved food into my mouth and wished I could think of a way to change the subject. Connor hummed suspiciously.
“Because Simon
obviously thinks you’re hot. And you can’t stop staring at him. You’re about as subtle as a brick to the back of the head. I think the whole restaurant saw you checking out Simon’s ass at the bar. I mean, it’s a cute ass, but seriously you keep staring at it like it’s a literal peach,” Connor said. “If you two aren’t smooshing booties then I want to know why the fuck not.”
“Smooshing booties?” I said with a snort.
“Do you want me to draw you a diagram?” he asked sweetly. “Has it been that long?”
“You’re such a dick.”
“And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“How’s Patrick?” I asked, suddenly thinking of a way to change the subject. Patrick was a pastry chef Connor had been dreamily pining over for years. They’d met when Connor had started doing some part-time waiting shifts at the restaurant where Patrick worked. He’d been a goner ever since.
“Don’t change the subject.” There was a definite flush to his cheeks that wasn’t from his blusher, and I grinned.
“I’m not. But I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you and Patrick doing dirty things to each other every night? I know you like him.”
“That’s different,” Connor said. His face dropped, a sad smile on his lips. “I don’t think Patrick feels like that about me.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” I said, reaching my hand across the table and squeezing his. Connor nodded and squeezed back.
“What are you sorry about?” Simon asked, dropping into his seat.
“Connor’s crush doesn’t know he exists.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was close enough, and it meant Connor wouldn’t have to talk about it.
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Simon nodded in commiseration. Then he smiled brightly. “Did you know Taylor’s favourite film is Mr. Smith Will See You Now? He made me watch it with him last week. And he rewound it so he could show me the guy’s dick!”
Connor’s happy grin returned as he looked at me, and I suddenly felt like I was a gazelle being sized up by a tiny lion. I was going to kill Simon.
Three hours later, we all stumbled home, full of food, and collapsed into bed. Simon in his room and Connor tucked in alongside me.
It was strange sleeping with another man in my bed. It had only been a week, but I was used to curling up with Simon, putting my arm around him and tucking him into me. I didn’t think Connor would mind if I ended up spooning him in my sleep, but I’d probably die of embarrassment if I woke up with a hard-on.
Connor fell asleep quickly, his tiny kitten snores filling my room. I snorted, tempted to record them so he could hear himself in the morning. I rolled over in bed, sighing and trying to force myself to relax. I knew I needed to sleep, but I was strangely on edge. My body felt tight and tense, and no matter how many deep breathing exercises I tried, nothing seemed to work.
An hour later, according to my phone, I gave up trying.
I was frustrated, bored, and a little horny. This was not working. But I knew something that would.
Double-checking that Connor was asleep, I snuck out of bed, tiptoeing across the room and slowly pulled open the door. It squeaked and I froze, twisting my head. Connor gave a little high-pitched squeak and rolled over, but that was it. I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the corridor. The flat was quiet, and I could hear Steve snoring from his room.
An excited grin curled my lips as I snuck down to Simon’s room, nervous heat flaring in my gut. It was almost exciting; sneaking out of bed to go and visit a boy in his room. I’d done it with my first boyfriend when we were teenagers and his parents had insisted we sleep in separate bedrooms. I didn’t know what they thought we were going to do at night that we weren’t already doing during the day when they were out of the house. We’d just learnt to be a lot quieter about it.
Simon’s door clicked open. In the dim light, I could see him curled up on what had quickly become “his” side of the bed, duvet pulled tight around him like a cocoon. He was so fucking adorable, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching him for a minute. A little shiver ran across my skin, and I realised standing around in just a thin t-shirt and my boxers was not going to keep me warm.
I picked my way across the room, sliding under the duvet and snuggling up to him. Simon was like a nuclear reactor when he was asleep, but I was cold from standing there watching him like that creepy vampire boy from those teen novels Connor had been obsessed with in high school. Simon was ridiculously toasty, and I hummed happily as I pressed up against him, gleefully stealing his body heat.
“Wha?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Taylor?”
“Go back to sleep,” I said, kissing his shoulder blade. “I was cold, and I missed you.”
There was a moment of silence, and I thought he’d gone back to sleep. Then he spoke, his voice so quiet it was barely audible. “I missed you too. I didn’t think I was going to get to sleep.”
“I couldn’t sleep either.” It felt odd to speak the words out loud. They made me feel vulnerable. My stomach squirmed, my chest squeezing tightly as I waited for him to respond. How was it that such a small admission could make me feel like I’d hurled myself off a cliff?
Simon rolled over in my arms, his hand caressing my jaw and drawing me in for a kiss. His lips were soft and insistent. I pulled him against me, desire burning in my chest. Now he was awake in my arms, I couldn’t resist the temptation to have a little fun.
After all, what was the point of a sexy, secret midnight visit without the sexy part?
My hands found the bottom of the t-shirt he was wearing, tugging it off over his head, our lips only parting for a second. Fuck, I loved kissing him. Simon groaned as he ground against me, his cock already hard in the loose pyjama shorts he was wearing.
“Take them off,” I said, my voice low and rough. I stripped off my own clothes, tossing them onto the floor. I’d find them in the morning. Simon was naked now, and I rolled on top of him as our mouths met in more hungry kisses. He moaned as I slid my tongue into his mouth, my aching cock rubbing against his.
“Shh, baby.” I kissed down his neck and scraped my teeth across the sensitive skin. “You’ve gotta keep quiet.”
“S-sorry,” he said, whimpering as I ground down against him. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
“You’re so sexy.” I levered up on my arms for a moment, staring down at his face in the dim light. “So beautiful and perfect for me.” Simon opened his mouth, probably to argue, but I circled my hips, and he groaned instead. I chuckled, kissing him again, slower this time. “Does that feel good?”
Simon nodded, another little moan escaping as he threw his head back onto the pillow. He ground up against me, desperately seeking more friction. Sparks of pleasure danced across my heated skin as we frotted against each other, and I already felt a familiar tightening in my gut.
“Please,” Simon said, his mouth against mine. “Don’t stop.”
“Never.” I thrust down against him, rubbing my aching erection against his. I kissed him over and over, never wanting to stop because every kiss was perfection.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna—” Simon tensed under me, whining against my lips as I felt his cock pulse against mine, painting our stomachs with wetness. I groaned, grinding down harder, his cum adding extra, delicious slickness that sent me higher with every thrust. My body felt like a livewire, and when Simon nipped at my lip, his hands reaching around to squeeze my ass and pull me closer against him, it was too much.
I grunted as I came against him, my release mixing with his as my cock smeared it into our skin. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing him covered in my cum. It was an oddly possessive feeling.
We lay together, with my body still half on top of his, exchanging soft words and kisses until it became impossible to ignore the tacky mess sticking us together.
Simon made a weird squeaky noise of disgust as I pulled away, and I chuckled quietly. “Sorry, we probably should have cleaned up sooner.”
Simon flicked on the lamp that was beside his bed, grabbing a pack of baby wipes off the little shelf above the drawer of his bedside table. They’d been a recent acquisition and were incredibly handy for times like this when neither of us wanted to get up. He pulled a couple out and handed me the pack before attempting to scrub the drying cum off his skin. When we’d finished, I chucked the used wipes in the bin and grabbed the discarded duvet, pulling it back over us and wrapping him in my arms.
“I’m going to sleep here,” I said, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll go back to my room in the morning.”
“Okay,” Simon said, his voice heavy with sleep. He twisted his head, seeking out one last kiss before we drifted off. As I snuggled against him, all I could think about was how utterly perfect this was. And how there were three little words sat on my tongue, waiting for me to release them.
It was only half seven, according to the little vintage alarm clock on Simon’s bedside table, when I found myself awake again.
Simon was still asleep, curled up beside me with a peaceful smile on his face. He was still naked—neither of us had bothered to get dressed again after our midnight fumble—and the duvet was tucked into his chest like he was cuddling it.
God, he was so fucking cute! I was so gone for him even my subconscious had given up resisting. There was no point even trying to deny it anymore; I loved him.
I couldn’t pinpoint the moment I’d realised it, I just knew that I did. There’d been no big fanfare, no sudden earth-shattering moment of clarity. Just a warm certainty in my chest that I loved him.
I’d been treading water for so long, trying to avoid the feeling. But now that I was starting to give in to it, I felt more relaxed than I had in years. It had been inevitable from the start really.
I’d told myself I didn’t want a boyfriend because I was so used to disappointment. But all the things every other guy had hated about me, Simon seemed to love. He didn’t care that I was bossy or sarcastic or sharp-tongued. He revelled in my attention, falling apart at my touch whenever I took charge. He laughed at my sarcasm and let me vent, and constantly seemed enthralled by me for reasons I’d never understand.
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