by Peter Styles
Lincoln pulled out of Wyatt but kept his lips pressed to Wyatt’s. Both of their hearts were pounding, coming down from the high of the orgasm. All of the frustration seemed to be melted away, the kissing turning soft and damn near romantic as they both calmed down physically. Lincoln’s lips were tender, moving in unison with Wyatt’s rather than dominating the kiss. They laid there making out for a while, not touching one another sexually. Lincoln was the one to lay flat on his back; Wyatt leaned over him as they kissed. It was like they couldn’t stop, lost in the perfection of the kisses.
After considerable hesitation, Wyatt pulled back to look down at Lincoln, a dopey smile on his reddened face. Lincoln smirked, but reached to his nightstand for a tissue to clean his hand off with. “Dare I say that was possibly better than last time, Mr. Brannon?” Wyatt grinned.
“Enough of that,” Lincoln chuckled, addressing being called by his stage name, “I was just caught up in the moment.”
“Clearly,” Wyatt teased. When Lincoln turned his face back to him after cleaning himself up, Wyatt immediately pressed a soft kiss to his lips, unable to help himself. After a few sweet kisses though, a realization hit Wyatt, and he pulled back. No longer having the courage to look Lincoln in the eye, his gaze faltered to the floor. “So, uh, should I head out soon?” he asked, meekly. At first, there was no response. Lincoln laid there, staring at Wyatt as his fingertips glided up and down the length of his spine. “It’s not a problem. I was just asking. I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”
After another moment of contemplation, Lincoln spoke, “Maybe I have been too resistant to everything.” Wyatt’s eyes flew to find Lincoln’s face then, his heart thudding in his chest. “Not that I’m saying I’m willing to date but… We do have some pretty undeniable chemistry. Maybe we can work something out…”
“Work something out? Like…?” Wyatt pondered, not quite understanding where he was getting out.
“I actually enjoy your company, when you aren’t being a prissy bitch,” Lincoln teased lightly, though he was being truthful as well, “And we have great sex. Maybe we could be friends with benefits. If you’re open to it.” Friends with benefits? Wasn’t that just dating without the commitment? Wasn’t his excuse for not being able to date centered around the notion that he couldn’t have someone hanging around? Wyatt’s confused expression and silence cued Lincoln to continue, “It would be a very, very low-key arrangement. At the end of work days, if you’re free, you can come over, and we can hang out and have sex. Exclusive, but no commitment, no titles, no telling anyone about it… and no getting attached. This isn’t going to lead anywhere, and I mean that. Don’t agree to anything if you don’t think you can take your emotions out of it.”
Wyatt had questions, but he didn’t want his pestering to make Lincoln retract his offer. He was sure that, eventually, he would get his answers. For the time being, he needed to pick his battles. A grin stretched Wyatt’s lips, responding with a joke, “If I knew all I had to do was sleep with you to convince you, I would have kept my mouth shut when I first got here.”
Lincoln chuckled, his eyes softening as he wrapped his arms around Wyatt. Clearly, it was important to Lincoln for things to stay light between them. And that would have to have been enough for Wyatt if he wanted to keep seeing Lincoln. “It’s probably my dick talking,” he joked right back, pecking Wyatt’s shoulder.
“Does this mean I can call you Linc now?” he cheekily questioned.
“What? Yes. You can anyways,” Lincoln laughed softly, somehow amused by the question.
“Well, I didn’t know. You always put so much emphasis on this not being very personal. I wasn’t sure we were on a nickname basis,” Wyatt explained. “Can I have your phone number too?”
“We’ll see,” Lincoln sighed, shaking his head awkwardly.
“Friends have their friends’ phone numbers,” he pressed, suppressing a chuckle as well.
“Yeah, well, friends also don’t sleep in their friends’ beds.”
“Is that your way of kicking me out?” Wyatt scoffed, though humor gleamed in his eyes.
“Gotta stick to my rules,” Lincoln chuckled. Wyatt climbed out of bed, Lincoln playfully tapping his bottom as he passed by. He pulled on his clothes, thinking, what a shame, I slept so well last time. Once he was dressed, Wyatt put on his snapback and looked over to Lincoln. “You’re dressed like a little college boy,” he teased.
“I’ve seen your Instagram, Linc. You’re calling my style immature?”
“Hey, that’s my job. I don’t choose to wear that stuff.”
“Yet you’ll be photographed in it. Putting your face alongside those clothes for the world to see.”
He produced a hearty laugh, leaning over the bed. “You’re an asshole.”
“Don’t I know it,” Wyatt said, rolling his eyes. Lincoln’s hands gently grabbed his face then, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
After a long moment, Lincoln reluctantly pulled back. “Be safe getting home. Message me when you get there, alright?”
“You’re worried about my well-being?” Wyatt gasped. “And I thought you said to keep emotions out of it.”
“Once again, I’m just being pleasant,” Lincoln winked, walking back over to his bed.
“Riiiight,” he commented, sarcastically. “One of these days, you’re going to have to admit to yourself that you’re madly in love with me.”
“Sure thing, pal,” Lincoln reacted, with a subtle smile.
Wearing a ridiculous grin on his face, Wyatt moved to the door. “Bye, Linc,” he called over his shoulder.
“Bye, Wyatt,” Lincoln purred.
Chapter 6: Just a Few Pictures
The next three weeks of Wyatt’s life was nothing short of perfection. His days were filled with productive work, light conversation between himself and Lincoln, and rendezvous at Lincoln’s once he was done with his work for the day. Nothing compared to their nights together. It was like hanging out with a childhood best friend you had just met for the first time. The conversations between the two of them were endless, never running dry for a moment. The sex was phenomenal, always leaving Wyatt tingling throughout the next day through his entire body. He desired Lincoln’s touch like a fat kid craved cake. It was like he knew Wyatt’s body better than Wyatt himself.
And even if Lincoln didn’t want to admit it to himself, they were growing ever closer. More than occasionally had Lincoln broken his rule about sleepovers. Hell, Wyatt spent more nights there than he did in his own bed. He always wondered if Lincoln slept better too when Wyatt stayed over. Another victory actually followed a short-coming. Grindr had crashed, resulting in them not being able to see one another that night. After that incredible inconvenience, Lincoln and Wyatt finally exchanged numbers.
Admittedly, Wyatt’s favorite pastime was abusing that privilege. Lincoln didn’t seem to actually mind, more just pretended it to be as a joke. Wyatt would send him funny pictures of things he saw online or out in the real world throughout the day. Recently, he had gotten a bit bolder by sending sexual text messages to him. He liked invading Lincoln’s mind like that, knowing that some of the things he enticed Lincoln with would be hard for him to shake quickly. It just so happened that when Wyatt started sending texts like that, work was extra hectic for Lincoln, and they couldn’t meet up for a few of days.
While it saddened Wyatt to not be able to see Lincoln, he could tell Lincoln was suffering from sexual starvation. He frequently tried to lure Wyatt over after he got home from the office, which was after midnight, but Wyatt was usually already passed out drunk or overeating caused by the munchies. In a way, the distance was empowering Wyatt. He liked that it was getting to Lincoln, feeling as though he was vindicated in his assumptions that Lincoln had feelings for him. Secretly, he hoped that, if a little more time passed, Lincoln would see it too.
Wyatt didn’t wake up until the early afternoon one day, having passed out on his couch after staying up until five in the morning
to finish a project for a client. Even though he had slept for quite a while at that point, his body still wasn’t ready for the waking world. That was, except for his stubborn morning wood. Once Wyatt dragged himself into his bedroom and climbed into bed, he actually debated between masturbating or going straight to sleep. That was when an idea came to mind. Shrugging off the lounge pants he had on, Wyatt then carefully draped his sheet over him to leave his erection exposed, as well as most of his upper body and one of his legs. Grabbing his phone from the charger, he turned onto his side and lined up a camera shot for a tasteful nude photograph.
It didn’t take but a couple of tries for Wyatt to be content with one of them, not at all shy about his body when it came to Lincoln. He attached the image to a text that said: When I wake up from a dream about you. But before he pressed send, Wyatt hedged. Not about sending the nude, but about the text going with it. Would saying he dreamed about Lincoln backfire on him? Wyatt really had dreamed about him, but he wasn’t sure how well Lincoln would take that. He contemplated it for a couple of minutes before shaking his head and just pressing send, knowing he overthought everything.
Covering himself properly, Wyatt put his phone to the side and closed his eyes. Before he could get too comfortable though, his phone began to vibrate. Lifting it and looking at the caller ID, Wyatt was actually surprised to see that it was Lincoln. Usually, when he was working, it would take at least an hour or two to hear back from him. Answering the call, Wyatt spoke, “Thank you for calling Mr. Frazier’s office, may I ask who is calling?"
“What’s your address?” Lincoln had asked, before Wyatt heard a car door closing in the background.
“204 Green Street, Apartment 5A, why?” Wyatt replied, actually puzzled.
“I’m coming over,” he announced, confidently. “I just left an assignment over at a café we are trying to market, and I have a couple of hours until my next meeting. We can order delivery; my treat.”
Wyatt couldn’t wipe the grin from his face then, “My, Mr. Prescott, my picture didn’t get to you, did it?”
“It most certainly did,” Wyatt purred, making a shiver run down Wyatt’s back. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You better be.”
Once they got off the line, Wyatt put his phone on his nightstand and stood up. He pulled back on the lounge pants he had just taken off, figuring he would need to open the door with some decency. Tossing his wild white hair, Wyatt managed to tame it for the most part. After freshening up in the bathroom, he moved to the living room to wait for Lincoln to get there. Even though Wyatt had been hoping to be able to tease him for a couple more days, he was excited to see Lincoln. It had been about five days by that point since they had last seen one another, and he missed Lincoln like a mad man.
He didn’t bother with a shirt, plopping down on his couch and starting to play a game while he waited for Lincoln. It wasn’t long though, until there was a knock on the door. With a smirk on his lips, Wyatt stood up and walked over, turning the handle to find Lincoln propped up in the doorway.
“Hi,” Lincoln purred, flashing a pearly smile before heading into the apartment. As Lincoln passed him, Wyatt noticed what he was wearing. A graphic tank top that had some obscure company logo on it, jean jacket, ash gray pants, and some canvas shoes.
“Well, hello, Mr. Brannon,” Wyatt teased, as he closed the door.
“Don’t start with me,” Lincoln chuckled, “I didn’t have time to change before coming over. And I didn’t see the point in it,” he said, draping a suit bag over one of Wyatt’s armchairs. “I do have to change before heading out though.” Then, his green eyes scanned around and took in Wyatt’s apartment. Brick walls, dark concrete floors, shabby-chic furniture, and vibrant art peppering the walls all made up the character of the space. “I literally couldn’t have pictured your place being any other way,” he commented.
“It is my hiding hole,” Wyatt joked. He spent the majority of his time in his apartment. He worked from home and didn’t have any friends or family in the area. Before Lincoln, the social aspect of Wyatt’s life had been from his Grindr hookups or going to clubs to find someone. Lincoln stalked over to him then, his strong arms wrapping around Wyatt’s ribs. “What did you want to do for lunch?” he asked, coyly.
Lincoln rolled his eyes, though his smile didn’t fade, “Whatever you want,” he said, simply. “We can worry about that in a bit though.” He leaned in and kissed Wyatt deeply and tenderly as he pulled him against him. Wyatt, of course, was happy to return the kiss. His body was immediately stirred by Lincoln’s touch. Already, Lincoln began shrugging down Wyatt’s pants, turning him around and bending him over the back of the couch. Adrenaline and arousal surged through Wyatt, eating up Lincoln’s excitement and impatience. It still didn’t make sense to Wyatt as to why he was so turned on by every single little thing Lincoln did, but it didn’t really matter to him. Everything felt so right between them.
Lincoln palmed Wyatt from behind, breathy moans escaping him as arousal took over his every sense. He could hear Lincoln unzipping his own pants, as he bit his lip in anticipation. Just as he felt the heated flesh of Lincoln’s member press against his skin, there was a sudden knock at the door. They both froze up for a moment, their eyes flying over to the sound. Knock, knock, knock, it came again. Who could be visiting him in the middle of the day, or really, at all? With his brow furrowed, Wyatt started to stand up straight. Lincoln squeezed Wyatt’s hips to get his attention, “Are you seriously going to answer it right now?” he asked, in a husky whisper.
“I don’t know who it could be. I want to make sure it isn’t my landlord or something,” Wyatt frowned, standing and pulling his pants up. Lincoln huffed and put himself back in his pants, then stepped around the couch and put a pillow in his lap. Adjusting himself to make his own erection as discrete as possible, Wyatt then opened the door.
His eyes widened at the sight of a lady, hardly looking eighteen, with short blonde hair and baby blue eyes smiling up at him with a toothy smile and red cheeks. “Hi, um, I’m so sorry to being doing this… I’m so embarrassed, but I really couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet him… I thought I saw Jack Brannon come in this building, and the front desk said that he had asked how to get to your apartment… Is he here?” Her big sky blue eyes looked up to Wyatt with a pleading look, as if uttering the word ‘no’ would leave her in tears.
Wyatt was thoroughly sketched out. She must have acted as though she was with Lincoln or something; Wyatt knew the front desk wouldn’t just let an ogling girl up unless they thought she was known. And she must have been seriously hellbound on meeting him to have the guts to come up to Wyatt’s apartment. Wyatt’s eyes moved over to Lincoln, “Uh, Jack, it’s for you,” he called over to Lincoln.
Lincoln’s green eyes nearly bulged from his head, as he stood carefully and adjusted his pants to try and hide his boner. He made his way over calmly, his gaze shuffling from Wyatt, down to the girl. “Can I help you?” he asked, quietly.
The blonde’s eyes were massive domes as she stared up at him, as though she were literally staring at the face of a god. “I—I—I…I—I…” she stammered. After shaking her head, she refocused, “I’m Alisha. I—I’ve been following you since you first started online. When I saw that you were at a—a café around the corner from where I lived, I ran straight there, but you were already getting in your car. I really wanted a picture with you, see, I’m wearing one of your shirts,” Alisha rambled, frantically gesturing down to her top. “So—so… I followed you here. I know that sounds so creepy and I don’t mean for it to be. My friends all love you, and it would mean the world to me to get a picture with you.”
Lincoln’s posture stiffened, and he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Alisha beamed. She pulled out her cell phone, turned it to the front-facing camera, and turned around to get them both in the frame. Wyatt began to
back away, but Alisha caught him by saying, “You can be in the picture too!”
Wyatt hedged, his eyes locking with Lincoln’s. His irises roaring at Wyatt to reject the invitation. He knew it wasn’t Lincoln being upset or jealous over a fan wanting him in the picture, it was more of the fact that Lincoln had been extremely careful to have no link between himself and Wyatt. “No, I’m alright,” Wyatt said, glancing at the woman before once again moving to step away.
That time, she caught his wrist, “Don’t be silly! You’re a part of the story that led to me getting the picture. You should definitely be in it.”
“Uh… alright,” he muttered, though he could feel Lincoln’s eyes burning holes in the side of his face. Alisha stood in front of the both of them, all of them standing close together to all be in the frame. She took a few pictures of them all smiling, before asking them to do silly faces. Lincoln, as politely as he could, declined to do so. Wyatt didn’t care, the damage was already done. Putting an arm around the girl, he opened his eyes wide and stuck out his tongue, and she crossed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks.
“Could you sign my shirt?” she asked Lincoln, as she finally put away her phone.
“I don’t have a marker,” he muttered, patting his pockets.
“I’ll get one,” Wyatt said, walking back into his apartment and finding a permanent marker among various pens and pencils on his desk. When he started back toward them, Lincoln was facing him with his hand out and open, signaling for Wyatt to just throw it. He did, and Lincoln easily caught it. Wyatt sat down on the couch, sighing and running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t really sure how things were going to go after this; he hoped that they could act like it never happened. It was a far-fetched notion, though, knowing Lincoln would be upset about his little fan’s surprise visit.
