“I told them we were grabbing a bite,” Carlos said, squinting in the dim light spilling in from the hall. “They’re heading home, but Benji says you have a key?”
He did. “I should head out soon.”
“Probably,” Carlos agreed, nodding even as he collapsed on the bed again next to Deion, still naked. “Falling asleep here would definitely require some kind of creative explanation.”
Because he could, Deion reached out and traced the line of muscle on Carlos’s closest thigh with one finger. Nothing but a silent, heated stare in return. After a moment, Carlos’s dick gave a weak twitch and then stilled, and they both laughed.
“Not happening,” Carlos said, ruefully, rolling onto his side to face Deion. “But what are you doing tomorrow while Josh and Benji are at the clinic?”
Deion had a feeling he knew exactly what he’d be doing, but he answered the same as he would have if someone had asked him that question two hours ago.
“I don’t have any plans. Why?” Grinning.
Carlos wrapped a possessive hand around Deion’s cock, squeezing it gently. A promise. “Come back in the afternoon and let’s figure out what we want to try next. No more liquid courage, though. Think we’re past that point, right?”
Deion tried not to growl out the words. “Hell, yeah, we are.”
8
Somewhere between Josh and Benji’s apartment and Carlos’s place the following afternoon, hunched in the back of the World’s Tiniest Lyft because the wait for a Lyft SUV was longer and he couldn’t take another minute’s delay, Deion psyched himself out.
When he’d walked out of the apartment, checking to make sure the door locked behind him, he’d been 100 percent excited for everything and anything that might happen. A hundred percent excited was probably lowballing it, actually. Riding the endorphin wave and still smelling Carlos on his skin, Deion had headed home to Josh and Benji’s the night before and watched his first gay porn videos.
And damn. His brain was still buzzing.
By the time the driver politely mentioned that she thought they’d be there in another five minutes, he was still, like, 80 percent excited. Maybe 75. But a solid chunk of nerves had taken up residence in his stomach again, and this time there was no booze to overpower them. As much as he knew that was the right call, Deion still thought a quick shot was less time-consuming than the hour of frigging yoga it felt like he needed to talk himself off the ledge.
When Carlos opened the door, Deion dove into his apartment and collapsed on his couch like he couldn’t go another step. To his surprise, instead of sitting next to him or remaining standing, Carlos straddled his lap, one knee pressing deep into the cushions on either side of Deion’s hips.
Deion dropped his forehead until it pressed against Carlos’s chest and inhaled slow and deep. Then he groaned, grabbing at Carlos’s hips. “Oh my God, why do you smell so good?”
Carlos laughed and the sound of it fluttered in Deion’s chest. “Well, I did just take a shower. A thorough shower.”
The emphasis on thorough was obviously supposed to mean something. He looked up. “What do you mean?”
Carlos stared at him blankly, laughing a little. When it became clear Deion wasn’t kidding, he wrinkled his brow. “Like, a gay sex shower?”
“I don’t know what that means.” He hated looking stupid, but he didn’t think this was the time to fake it.
“Like, there was equipment involved.” The skin over Carlos’s cheekbones darkened. At Deion’s continued silence, he snapped, “Jesus Christ. I gave myself an enema. In case we have sex today. Your dick in my ass sex.”
“Okay! Don’t get mad. I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“How? How could you possibly not know that was a thing?” Carlos asked him, clearly disbelieving. “Didn’t you google it? There are, like, four million articles about how to be a good bottom.”
“Okay, one, I only barely know what that means, and two, I don’t even know if I would have thought to look that up.”
Carlos stiffened in his lap. “Why, because big, strong football players can’t bottom?”
“No,” he answered immediately. That had nothing to do with anything. “Because I’m so fucking far out of my depth here, I don’t even know what questions to ask.”
“I mean, I figured you’d have gotten curious about what you see in gay porn. Like, how easy and, you know, clean everything looks.” Carlos was blushing now, dark pink staining his cheeks.
Deion shook his head. “I think you may have watched a lot more gay porn than me.”
“Because I’m more bi than you are?” Carlos’s voice was sharp.
“Dude. Easy. Even I know that’s not a thing.” He hadn’t expected this much defensiveness from Carlos, who’d seemed way more comfortable with his bisexuality than Deion was, but apparently anyone could have hidden minefields. “There’s no more bi or less bi based on how much you’ve done or know about same sex stuff. I just meant, I only started watching gay porn, like, twelve hours ago, so I’m playing catch up.”
“Sorry, I think I’m working out some leftover grade school bullying shit on you,” Carlos admitted, losing the tension in his muscles.
“From kids who thought you were gay?” Deion asked, curious. He’d dealt with plenty of crap growing up, from microaggressions to more directly expressed racism, but half his family taught in Atlanta’s school system and his parents had made sure he was in the best possible schools to avoid the worst of it. And his size, football-star status, and girlfriends had insulated him from questions about his sexuality. That particular hassle wasn’t anything he’d ever experienced.
“More like, my whole crew was queer or queer-friendly even in middle school—all theater kids—but I still played soccer and hung with the jocks too, and there was a lot of shit-talking. The best part of high school was leaving that crap behind,” Carlos said with a smile, as if at some good memory. A moment later, though, he jerked upright, staring at Deion again. “Wait, what? You never watched porn before?”
“I’ve watched straight porn.” He paused. Shrugged. “Or lesbian porn. But I never watched gay porn before last night.”
“How is that possible?” Carlos asked, pulling back as if he needed more room to get a good look at a peculiar specimen. “I told everyone I was straight too, but that never stopped me from checking out porn.”
“I told you I avoided thinking about any of this stuff.”
“Yeah, but”—Carlos’s hands opened and closed, as if he were thinking about grabbing something but wasn’t sure if he should—“but how? Weren’t you curious?”
“Yeah, I can see I didn’t explain this right. Because no, I didn’t even let myself get that far. It was like I knew I was into guys too, but I pushed that thought below the surface every moment of every day. As if I was afraid to even think about it in my own head, because of what it might mean.”
Carlos slid off his lap to land on the couch next to him, twisting so his back landed against the cushions. “Holy crap. So you literally never . . .”
“Googled how to do gay sex. No. I mean, clearly I should have since last night, but I was watching the actual porn, so, you know . . .”
“Oh my God.” Carlos was laughing now. “Okay, so I have a suggestion. Let’s put all this on hold for a second. Come on.” He got off the couch and held out a hand.
“I thought we were putting things on hold,” Deion asked as Carlos towed him down the hall to his bedroom. He remembered that much from last night.
“We are. But I wanna be comfortable for this,” Carlos said over his shoulder. “Clothes on. We’re going to watch some videos.”
His dick turned to steel in an instant. “Porn?”
“Ha. No. Videos about anal. And preparing for anal. And . . . whatever.” In his bedroom, Carlos pulled his laptop off the dresser and sat on the bed, patting the sheet next to him. “I’ve got some stuff bookmarked. And if you have any questions, we can look those up too.”
&
nbsp; “I’ve done anal before. I told you that.” Deion was positive they’d discussed this at some point during that first night of dirty texting.
“Yeah, well, you haven’t done it with me. And if I’m going to let you stick your dick in my ass—which is a thing I’d really, really like to do, by the way—we’re going to cover all the bases first, because I want to enjoy it,” Carlos said firmly, tipping his head to insist again that Deion get on the bed. Fully dressed. “And I realize we’ve skipped some discussion here. Like, I didn’t even ask you last night about your injury and if there’s anything I need to avoid doing so I don’t hurt you.”
Giving in, Deion lay down, stretching up next to Carlos with his torso propped against some pillows. Carlos’s casually direct question was the first time someone had brought up Deion’s injury without making him tense in, well, ever. “No, I’m good. Seriously. I’m supposed to go in when I get home for my final thumbs-up from the doc and then I’m back to practice, if they want me.” That wasn’t exactly true, of course. He pushed the thought away. “As long as you don’t tie me to the bed with my arms over my head and leave me like that for an hour or two, I’ll be fine.”
“Damn. Another plan foiled.”
Deion felt his eyes widen. And then Carlos pressed play on a video unlike any Deion had ever seen, and his eyes widened so far he thought they might fall right out of his head.
Two guys broke down anal sex prep to a degree he’d never thought to see anyone do in public. With props. And reference to Gandalf, which knocked him for a loop right when he thought things could not possibly get any more surreal. When the video ended, he didn’t know where to look.
“Holy shit. Or not-shit,” Deion said. Carlos snorted next to him. “Okay. So, that was a lot of information. Which, uh, method did you use?” That felt like a super private question to ask, but he really needed the images in his brain to settle down into one definite picture before he got dizzy from the variety.
Carlos shrugged. “Just the basic disposable one from the drugstore.”
“Is it . . . ?” He wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out a polite way to ask.
“Gross? Uncomfortable? A literal pain in the ass?”
“Sure?”
“No. Yes. No.”
Deion shook his head, marveling. “This is not how I thought things were going to go today.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Carlos said, smiling at him. “But it’s better to know stuff, right? Did you have any other questions about that one?”
He kind of did. But he didn’t know if asking it was too intrusive. The two guys had discussed another aspect of prep, with a different kind of prop.
“I can see you mindfucking something to death.” Carlos’s voice was dry as bone. “Seriously. We just watched a video about enemas. It’s not really possible to ask me something too personal right now. We are way past that point.”
Taking a deep breath, he went for it, feeling his face heat. “They talked about using a dildo.”
“On yourself. Yeah.” Carlos waited for the question, then tipped his head when one didn’t come. “Oh boy. So, that’s another thing?”
“I’ve never done? Yeah,” he admitted. “Why, do you have one?”
“Indeed I do.” A long pause. “Do you want to see it?”
“Kind of.” He wasn’t trying to whisper, but it seemed rude to demand, loudly, show me your sex toy right now.
Carlos rolled over and dug through a drawer in his nightstand. When he twisted back to face Deion, it was with a look of triumph on his face and a wide-based purple penis in his hand. “Ta da!”
Deion burst out laughing.
“Oh sure, laugh at my dildo. That’s great,” Carlos said, grinning. “Not at all likely to make a guy feel self-conscious about this kind of thing.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to smother giggles, unsuccessfully. “It’s just . . . you looked so pleased with yourself.”
“You can touch it.” At Deion’s look, Carlos snorted again. “It’s clean. I promise.”
Deion took the dildo from his hand. It was squishier than he’d expected, soft on the surface but stiff underneath. It felt like a nice kind of man-made dick to practice with, if a guy was going to do something like that. He closed the fingers of one hand around the shaft and pushed it into his fist with the other. Tried to imagine too many things at once. What it would feel like to push into Carlos like that. What it would feel like to push the dildo into himself. All the blood in his body plunged to his dick at either image, everything getting hot and hard at the idea of all that tightness getting stretched by the pressure and strength of a dick. His. Carlos’s. The friendly purple cock. It all sounded good.
Very, very good.
“Somehow this is both the sexiest and the least sexy conversation I’ve ever had,” he muttered before he thought about it, then smiled when Carlos laughed. “I mean, least sexy because, uh, I don’t usually, or ever, talk about stuff like enemas or using dildos to prepare for stuff.”
“No girls ever wanted to tell you in great detail about how painful it is to get a Brazilian?” Carlos shifted his laptop to the nightstand and stretched out next to him, his hand rubbing his own chest through his shirt.
Deion could see the points of his nipples through the fabric.
He wanted to put his mouth on them. He kept talking reflexively.
“Not so far.”
“You know, I’ve got a video for that.”
“What?”
“The Try Guys . . . never mind,” Carlos said briskly. “I’ll send you a link. For, you know, future purposes. So you can appreciate what your next girlfriend goes through for you.”
When Carlos said the words next girlfriend, Deion’s stomach felt kind of funny. And not in the good way.
He rolled over and off the bed, rising to his feet even as he started stripping his clothes off. “Never mind that. It’s naked time.”
Carlos laughed and matched his movements, getting down to skin in speedy fashion. When they climbed back on the bed, Deion pushed him flat until Carlos was stretched naked across the bed diagonally, watching Deion bemusedly.
“Smile all you want,” Deion said, settling in next to him. “I’ve got shit to do here.”
“You have my complete and utter permission to explore,” Carlos said, laughing, until Deion skipped the preliminaries and bent down to take Carlos in his mouth.
His tongue learned the shape of Carlos’s dick. Memorized that slight curve toward his belly, the silky smoothness of the head, and the loose skin of his shaft. Mapped the tight, wrinkled skin of his balls and the ridge behind them. He sucked at the tip until precome spilt against his tongue, and Carlos jerked against his mouth, pushing deeper and then freezing.
“Sorry,” he ground out. “Not trying to choke you. Do whatever you like.”
Deion liked it all. He especially liked looking up the length of Carlos’s torso to find his eyes locked on Deion’s lips, the slide of Carlos’s cock in and out of his mouth. Carlos’s eyes were glassy with desire, pupils blown, and lips stained pink with the flush that spread across his chest. Deion was sure he could make Carlos come with another minute or two of this. He sucked, hard, for an experimental moment.
Carlos gasped and shuddered and another spill of precome flooded his mouth.
Yup. God, this was a trip. It was like he controlled Carlos’s entire body, making it rock and thrust and shiver at will. He pulled off abruptly to demand, “I want to see you use that dildo on yourself.”
He was pretty sure Carlos would have agreed to anything he asked, but the speed with which he grabbed the purple cock and some lube was gratifying. Then Deion sat back on his heels, hand wrapped around his own aching dick, and watched Carlos slick up and ease the dildo into himself, one inch at a time. After a pause and some wiggling, Carlos started fucking himself with deep, slow strokes, his eyes fluttering shut as he groaned.
“You’ve done this before.” Not a question. Every muscle in Deio
n’s body was tight, wanting.
“Yeah,” Carlos said, his voice guttural. “I like it. Always have.”
God, the idea that Deion could have done this already, could know what it felt like to take a dick in his ass, was fascinating and frustrating and a waste of fucking time when he had a naked man with an actual dick and ass right in front of him to experiment with.
“Keep fucking yourself,” he ordered and slid down again to tongue Carlos’s dick, licking up the trails of precome that had spilled down the shaft.
“Oh, God. Stop,” Carlos gasped a moment later, pushing against his shoulder as he removed the toy and dropped it over the side of the bed. Deion pulled off his dick with reluctance. “I really want your dick in my ass when I come.”
Deion remembered the sight of that purple dildo sliding into the tight stretch of Carlos’s ass and a jolt of pleasure shot through his cock until he couldn’t think of anything else. Yes. That. He wanted that. “Now.”
Carlos passed him the lube and a condom and rolled over.
Deion wrapped himself up and then slicked lube over his dick. With one wet finger, he reached out and traced the rim of Carlos’s hole, still shiny from the lube he’d applied to himself earlier.
Carlos shuddered and pushed his ass back against Deion’s finger until the tip slid in. “Not your finger. Want your dick.”
Deion nodded as if Carlos could see him. He was ready, no nerves now, just need. And want. He pushed in slowly, heat closing around his dick like a vise until he couldn’t breathe. “Holy. Fuck.”
“You good?” Carlos’s voice was tight, as if he were bracing himself against something not quite good.
Deion couldn’t help it. He laughed and moaned at the same time. So fucked. He was so, so fucked. “I am totally fucking bi.”
Carlos grunted beneath him. “No shit, Sherlock. You’re ninety-five yards up my ass. We left the Land of Straight Dudes behind at the kickoff.”
Deion paused. He’d bottomed out, fully inside Carlos’s ass. He was pretty sure he could feel his heartbeat in his cock, everything was so tight and hot and throbbing with pleasure. He needed Carlos to be right there with him. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
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