Wyatt kept pace next to me, hands in his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched.
He was still acting closed off and I was still pissed off about Allan trying to hit on him and him acting like it was nothing.
I bumped his elbow with mine. “Well, this looks like a fun place.”
He stopped and faced me. “If you didn’t want to come here, why didn’t you say something before?”
“Because I thought you wanted to come.”
“I did.”
“And so we’re here.” I left off the duh since it was obvious.
With a frustrated grunt he started walking again. He’d been weird since we left the ACLU office. No, he’d been weird all week. His hands were still in his pockets but he shrugged. “I’ve never been to a gay bar.”
“You think I have?”
“Well, you have all this experience.”
I kept my voice super low. “Knowing how to give bjs does not mean I hung out in bars in high school. And I didn’t notice you complaining about my experience before.”
A bass line thumped from somewhere ahead of us. I hoped it was from the club and not a car full of ‘phobes. The music got louder until I could almost make out lyrics. There were voices too, bouncing off the brick warehouses. We turned the corner on a side street and stopped. The street was full of guys smoking, talking, hanging on each other.
I felt the bass line in my balls, or maybe that was the sudden rush of excitement. Not just sexual, though one or two of these guys would have done just fine as a porn star, but something about being here made me happier than diving into a pile of presents under the Christmas tree. Could you feel connected to a place you’d never been before?
“I take it back,” I said to Wyatt. “This was a really good idea.”
It might have been safe to be queer here, but it wasn’t necessarily safe to leave my boyfriend alone. I grabbed his hand and headed toward the door. A guy blocked the way.
“ID and ten bucks cover.”
“Isn’t it College Night?” I glanced at the sign on the open door.
“Still gotta be eighteen.”
We showed him our IDs and I gave him a twenty. He stamped our hands and we were inside.
The music vibrated through my sneakers to the top of my head, and it was dark. Really dark. There were spotlights on honest-to-God go-go boy dancers in tiny neon bikinis who were on raised platforms, some lights behind the bar and splashes of color on the half-full dance floor, but that was it.
We moved toward a wall with a thin rail along it, chest high. Despite all the stares and the smoking, I wanted to go back outside where I could see and hear.
I leaned into Wyatt’s good ear. “Is this okay? For your ear I mean?”
He nodded.
A guy came up to Wyatt’s other side, leaning against the rail. It was hard to tell in the light but he looked older. Like, thirty. “Want a drink?” he asked Wyatt.
Wyatt leaned away from him toward me. “No thanks.” He added a shake of his head.
The guy shrugged and walked away.
I smiled and pressed against Wyatt. “My boyfriend is totally hot.” I slipped an arm around his waist. “Wanna dance?”
The one brow not covered by his bangs shot up. An arm landed on my shoulders and I smelled Sauvage cologne.
“You made it.” Allan had an arm around Wyatt’s neck too. Either they were still serving liquor to people over twenty-one or Allan had pregamed it, because he smelled drunk. “Ready for that drink?”
“We were just going to dance.”
“Excellent.” Allan took each of our hands and pulled us onto the dance floor. Back in high school, Blake and I didn’t get much shit for dancing together at parties or even at his prom. Sometimes girls would laughingly cut in and we’d dance with them, but this was the first chance I’d had to dance with Wyatt. And I wasn’t into a threesome.
It was a fast song, an extended mix, and it was crowded where we were. I tried to slide Allan out of the picture but he kept angling in. He grabbed my hips from behind and did a bump and grind with me, then slid a leg between Wyatt’s and danced close enough to rub their dicks together. I stopped moving.
“C’mon.” Allan leaned toward me, then dragged me in so all three of our heads were together. “Have some fun. You’re not married.”
“Not yet.” Wyatt didn’t seem to feel a need to peel away from Allan. “When’s that scheduled, Ethan?”
Apparently Allan’s dick wasn’t the only thing rubbing off on my boyfriend. I left them to douchery together and ducked away from both of them. “I’m hot. I need a drink.”
“Yes, you are.” Another guy near me laughed and grabbed me. He wasn’t bad looking and his body was muscular, so I danced up on him, grabbing his ass and sliding into his chest. He put his arms around my neck. I looked to see if Wyatt noticed, but he’d disappeared behind more bodies. Not that I wanted to fuck this guy, but the friction was getting me hard. I told him I really did need a drink and wriggled away.
On my way off the dance floor, I got another look at douchecanoe dancing with my boyfriend. Wyatt looked serious as always, but he moved in a way that made my mouth go dry. Allan laughed and leaned down to say something in Wyatt’s ear.
Good luck with that. It’s his deaf ear, asshole.
At the bar, I got ignored, not that I was all that desperate for an eight-dollar soda. There was a fishbowl full of condoms and other little packets. I grabbed some of them and saw they were lube. After tucking them in my pocket, I walked deeper into the club. Maybe I’d find my gym rat guy and dance some more.
I pushed through a door I figured led to the bathroom and found myself in a pitch-black narrow hallway. I blinked and saw there was some kind of light near the far end. Where the fuck were the bathrooms? It reeked like ball sweat and the sock I’d kept under my bed when I first started jerking off. The door blocked some of the music, making it mostly throbbing bass like it had been on the street. As I walked toward the lighter rectangle at the end, I heard another sound. A moan. Low, harsh and straight out of a porn vid. That sound hit me low and good, a flash of heat, a pulse in my dick. I think I already knew what I was going to find when I hit the end. Excitement built in my belly, batting nerves and some shame that made my cheeks hot.
A guy leaned against the wall, legs spread as far as he could manage with his jeans around his ankles. He let out that moan every time the other guy fucked deep into him. Embarrassment couldn’t stop my fascination. It wasn’t the kind of ball-slapping view you get watching porn. It was too dark, and they were too close together. But I watched the top’s bare ass flex, in-out, the motion pulling rhythmic groans from the guy he was fucking.
I jiggled a leg, then gave in to a need to rearrange my hard-on in my jeans with my hand.
A voice in my ear said, “Let me get that,” as an arm came around my hips, the hand landing on my zipper.
I spun around and stepped back. “Uh, thanks, but I’m good.”
The guy let me go. All I could see of his face was a bald head gleaming above a full, dark beard. His voice held disgust. “Fuck off back to your mommy, you little prick.”
I turned and sped down the hall. I cleared the door and crashed into Wyatt.
“Hey, I was looking for you.” He put a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged his hand off. “Have a nice dance?” I stalked away, following the edge of the dance floor.
Wyatt caught me with a hand on my arm and his frustrated “Ethan” huffed in my ear.
I let him pull me toward a beam holding up the roof. I leaned against it, my back to the dance floor.
“You’re jealous?” He leaned close enough that I could hear the disbelief in his voice.
“No.” The denial was immediate, though I damned well knew I was. I just couldn’t stop
myself.
“Right.” He drew the word out sarcastically.
It wasn’t just fucking Allan. What Wyatt had said about marriage still stung. But I went with the obvious. “For all I know, you’re into him.”
He moved closer and slipped his arms around my waist. “I’m not.” His voice was calm. “I already have a boyfriend.”
I kept my arms at my sides. “There are lots of other hot guys here.”
“And?” He tucked his hands into my back pockets. “Got one here.”
I sighed. “I’m not fishing. You’ve never been with anyone else. You might want to try someone different.”
He tilted away enough to let me see his face, his serious nod. Then he leaned in enough to be heard. “So, dicks. How different are they?”
That was—”What do you mean?”
“Like in your mouth. In your hand.”
I thought about it. “Come tastes mostly the same. Some guys could do a little better maintenance. The feel—” Pre-Blake, I’d sucked a few guys who were bent in the literal sense. But once I got going, it was still just a dick. “Not much. I guess if he’s hung like a horse that would be different.”
“Yeah, I bet.” His short laugh tickled my ear. “I could say the same thing about you, you know.”
Was the strain in his voice from trying to yell over the music or because of emotion?
“What?”
He pressed me into the beam at my back, squeezing my ass and grinding his groin into mine.
“I don’t think fighting with me made you this hard. Maybe you’re the one who wants variety. Someone more experienced, better at sucking, at fucking.”
“I don’t.” That was the absolute truth. Yeah, there were some hot guys here. But no one else was Wyatt. No one called me on my shit and pissed me off as much, no one who made me feel so damned good when I got one of his smiles. The only mouth I wanted on my dick was that sexy one inches away. “I want you.” I grabbed his head between my hands.
“Me too.”
“Then why did you say that shit about me planning our wedding?”
He took his hands out of my pockets, shifting his grip to my hips. His sigh heaved against my chest too. “You get a little intense about planning things out.”
I let my hands fall away from his face. “Like?”
“Like date night. Like this whole living together thing this summer.”
“This wasn’t something I set up behind your back. We did this together, so we could be together. I swore I wasn’t going back to my parents’ because you’re not comfortable there.”
“I know.”
“Then what?” Because I wasn’t making that same mistake. I was being up-front about everything, not lying to make things easier, though I couldn’t fucking believe he wanted things to be more difficult.
Wyatt took a deep breath and glanced away for a second. Whatever was left of my voyeury woody went to pulp. Cold knotted—twisted—in my gut, in my balls.
He looked back at me. “Sometimes it feels like you’re more into the idea of having a boyfriend than actually having me for one.”
I tried to make sense of that. How was I supposed to be acting? “So, what, I don’t listen to you?” My head and heart were pounding with the bass. Why the hell were we doing this in a club? “We came here tonight because you wanted to.”
I was trying not to do the whole default to him breaking up with me, to believe that we could get into a fight and not have it be the end. Except I had no control over what was making my breath come faster.
And Wyatt could tell. He pulled my head down to his shoulder. “I’m not saying everything is bad. I’m just saying to let things happen a little. To not act like you’re checking off boxes in your life plan.”
I lifted my head. “Wait a minute. You, Mr. Life Is Shit and Then You Die, are telling me to relax and have fun?”
His lips pressed together for a minute, then he nodded.
I frowned. “Like dancing with random guys?”
“No. Like this.” He kissed me, going hard and hot from the beginning. His hand on the back of my head kept me there, not that I didn’t like his tongue sliding over mine. I grabbed his ass and kissed back, meeting the pressure, the pace. I swam through that dizzy, happy rush from feeling his hunger, his need. Even sweeter now, when he could have had confident, polished Allan, or any of the other guys here looking to hook up.
He wanted to let go and have fun? Well, I had some fun in mind. I squeezed his ass and rubbed our dicks together. He gasped and broke the kiss for a second. I hooked a finger in his belt loop and tugged him toward that door.
“C’mon.”
“Where are we going?”
I kissed him, my tongue sweeping his mouth. I grinned. “Relax.” I pulled him along.
Chapter Six
Wyatt
First I thought Ethan was going to drag us outside, then I thought we were headed to the bathroom, but after a few steps down the cave-dark hall, I figured it out. I might be from Van, West Virginia, but we had the internet.
A back room.
Blood rushed to my dick so fast I had to stop. I heard someone moan. I wrapped my fingers around Ethan’s arm. “Are you fucking serious?”
A guy pushed past us, flattening us into the wall.
Ethan’s lips moved against my throat, then he whispered, “I was there. The back stairs at Butler, in the Academic Success Center office.” He wiggled his hand between us and stroked my dick. “Yeah. Don’t tell me you don’t have a kink for public sex.”
I was so hard I could barely stand. I hadn’t thought about it before. But then he said it and oh shit. I really did.
“Jesus, Ethan.”
He pulled me along. There was a wider space past that hall, dim track lights. I saw a sign under one light: Doing Drugs Will Get You Banned.
And guys making out. Getting blown. Fucking. In twos, in threes or more.
I didn’t think I could be this hard and terrified at the same time, although we had to be safer here than the other times we’d gotten away with it. Ethan pressed me into a wall and kissed me. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and reached for his fly.
The heat, the solid pressure against my palm, made me crazier. “C’mon.” But my words got swallowed up in the kiss, not that he could really do anything to get our pants out of the way faster.
He could pay a little attention to my dick, though. His hands slid under my shirt, up to play with my nipples, to press and squeeze my pecs like I wasn’t already going to die if I didn’t get off right the hell now.
The space around us was full of sex. The smells. The sounds. And Ethan kissing me like he could come just from that.
I got my hand through his boxers and cupped his balls. He pulled away from my mouth to gasp. I tugged them forward a little, fingers feathering.
He pressed in closer, trying to get friction on his dick. “God, Wyatt, I need to fuck you.” His tongue teased my ear.
I thought of the long bus ride back to our apartment. “I don’t want to wait that long.”
His grin curved against my neck. Deliberately scraping my jaw with his scruff, he worked back up to my ear. His hips drove against me, against my trapped, aching dick.
Humid, tickling heat followed his whisper into my ear. “Planning isn’t always a bad thing.” He leaned away enough to dig in his pocket and pulled out a tiny pillow-shaped package. “They had these packs of lube at the bar. I took two. Yeah?”
Anticipation kicked me so hard my knees buckled. Trying to avoid thinking of how many ways this could end in disaster, I whispered, “Yeah.”
I started to face the wall, but he kissed me again, groaning into my mouth. He rested our foreheads together. “Fuck, I almost came in my pants.”
�
�That would suck.” I undid my fly and turned around.
Resting my head on my arms folded against the wall, I let Ethan pull my hips out toward him. He pushed my jeans and underwear down, baring my ass here, where there were strangers who could watch. Shivering, I rolled my head to the side. A guy on my left looked back at me, his eyes slits as someone sucked his dick. I closed my eyes and gasped, shoving my hips out farther.
Ethan pulled my cheeks apart, rubbing lube against my hole, pressing with a thumb. I couldn’t get my legs very far apart, and it hurt a little when his thumb popped in.
He leaned over me, thumb burning in and out. Flexing my legs, I wriggled my jeans down farther, spread my legs just that much more, and oh fuck that was better.
He grunted. “Okay?”
I nodded against my arms because I wasn’t sure he’d hear me. His dick nudged, stretched, stung me. My breaths became hisses. He froze there. “In or out?”
“Wait a sec.”
He grazed the edge of my ear with his teeth, sucked a gentle bite in the skin below it. His voice was more breath than whisper. “Some guy is watching us. He’s jerking off. He wants to see me fuck you.”
“Jesus, Ethan.” I didn’t think I could stay on my feet. I sagged back and he slid in deeper.
“Yeah. Come get it.”
This was crazy. This wasn’t us. Except it was. We were doing this, and it was so goddamned hot, I thought coming might actually kill me. I tilted my hips, and he kept sliding in. All the way.
“Fuck. Fuck. So tight like this.” Ethan’s fingers on my hips were shaking.
It was. And I wasn’t sure I could stand it if he moved. Then he did and I didn’t want him to stop. He was nudging, little jerks of his hips, like he was trying to fit more of him inside me.
“You feel so fucking good.” His voice was a little slurred. “I want to stay like this but I have to move because you feel so good.” Ethan always said the kinds of things that made me want to go along with any of his ideas, in or out of bed. But he never sounded as honest, as raw, as he did when he was balls-deep in my ass.
Relationship Status (Ethan & Wyatt) Page 5
