Don't Read in the Closet volume one

by Various Authors

  "On the bed, ass in the air. Naked," he added with a grin, figuring that was a no-brainer, but not assuming anything just yet. Sam limped off to obey, favoring his left leg that had the larger gash--and had been sprained. Bad luck, he thought, watching Sam go. Or very good luck.

  He followed shortly after, leaving on his bottoms as he appreciated the gift in his bed. Like Christmas in July. He smiled, one hand rubbing himself through his pants as the other reached out to stroke the pale curve of cheek. Sam moaned, pressing back into the touch as it slid down the curve and then up his crack, Trevor's pinky finger brushing his sack. The skin was smooth and warm, although goosebumps were forming, chilled by the cold air rushing from the AC. Keeping one hand on his butt, Trevor climbed onto the bed, bending over to kiss the arch of lower back, letting his warm breath tickle the skin. Sam squirmed, his inhale hitched as the fingers stroked down the crevice and circled his opening.

  "Tease."

  Trevor let his hand fall away, his mouth moving against Sam's back as he threatened, "I can stop if you'd like."

  "I didn't say stop."

  "Good." He bit hard and Sam gasped, his back arching away from the split-second of pain, before Trevor was licking and kissing and the back relaxed with a groan. "Then I'll do whatever I want."

  Sam tensed beneath him, muscles quivering and hands fisting the sheets. Trevor slid a hand up his back in long, soothing strokes. "Sam?"

  He exhaled all at once then dragged in another breath, the tension shivering from his muscles to relax to Trevor’s administrations. "It's fine."

  It didn't seem 'fine,' but Trevor didn't push, just made note of it in any future instances--assuming there would be. He didn't dwell on it, just moved so he was behind Sam, his mouth following the same curve his fingers had until his mouth was kissing the cheeks on either side of his opening. He was clean--almost fresh smelling--and smoothly shaven from his balls to his bum, not even the beginnings of prickles. Rubbing his smile against one side, he used his hand to part the cheeks farther before he licked along the crack and worked his tongue into the tight hole.

  "Oh!" Sam gasped and shifted his weight back and Trevor slid his tongue in deeper as he reached around and wrapped his hand around the hard prick hanging there. "Oh, fuck," Sam groaned, his hips jerking forward into his hand, then back against his mouth, sliding his dick into Trevor's hand without him having to do much work. He continued making delicious noises as Trevor fucked him with his tongue, spreading the pre-come that dripped from Sam’s tip as his fingers swiped over the head.

  "Oh fuck!" Sam pushed back into Trevor, squashing his nose and nearly throwing him off balance. He grunted, pulling his mouth away and swatting Sam's thigh lightly before sitting himself up and lubing his fingers with spit.

  "Sorry." Sam at least sounded apologetic, even as he continued fucking himself on Trevor's hand with frenetic noises. "But, you...ohgodyes," he moaned as Trevor shoved two wet fingers in, stretching the ring of muscles.

  "I what?"

  "No. Idea."

  Trevor's laugh was throaty as he pushed the fingers deeper and sought out his prostate. Sam nearly squeaked when he found it, and that just made Trevor smile more, leaving kisses on his lower back. He kept pushing Sam higher and higher until he could feel the muscles quiver on the edge; he stopped stroking his cock, squeezing the base almost painfully as he sat up on his knees. "Get up."

  "I am," Sam mumbled before lifting his upper body and leaning back against Trevor's. He couldn't help chuckling against the soft neck and the pounding pulse, his tongue tracing the rhythm while his fingers worked the prostate just as steadily, making Sam whimper in pain as his cock jolted out plenty of cum without orgasming. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck." Sam's head fell back on Trevor's shoulder, his hair sticking against their wet skin. "Please. Ohgodplease."

  "Please?" Trevor whispered against his neck, nipping hard enough that Sam's hips jerked and another spurt of cum dribbled out. "Rather selfish of you." He rubbed his aching cock on Sam, wishing he'd thought to remove his pants before, but enjoying the younger man's groans and whimpers as he removed his fingers. "Shouldn't you think of me?"

  "Then fuck me, please!"

  "Too easy." He reached down between Sam's legs and grabbed his sack, squeezing just hard enough to get a yelp, but not enough to do serious pain. Sam fell forward onto his hands again, his back heaving with his effort to breathe and Trevor hesitated, watching for a sign that he'd pushed too hard. But instead he found that smooth ass pressing back against him. He smiled, pulling his hand away slowly so just the fingertips lingered before he pinched, making Sam's hips quiver in an uncontrollable thrust. Too beautiful to wait. "I think it's my turn."

  Sam looked over his shoulder, his brown eyes dark with lust, nearly weeping with it. "What," he croaked, then swallowed, wetting his lips to finish. "What do you want me to do?"

  He slid his hand up Sam's body and down his arm, taking his hand and guiding him as Trevor sprawled along the headboard, his legs open wide and his cock straining in its prison. "Suck me. You can come when I do."

  He'd never seen someone move so fast, and before he could say another word, his cock was released from his pants and sunk in wet heat. And suction. And little whimpering vibrations that had him fisting his hand in Sam's hair and gasping as he tried not to spill like a teenage boy. But Sam was needy and wanton and motivated. Trevor’s hand controlled where he could go, but it didn't control what he could do with his lips, his tongue, and his blessed throat. He wasn't sure what Sam did, all he knew was that it shot up his cock, to his brain and bounced back into his balls so he was holding that mouth in place and spilling himself. Sam made pleased little noises as he swallowed, letting the spent cock slip from his mouth, clean but for his saliva, before he collapsed between Trevor’s legs.

  "Fuck, Sam."

  He looked up from his position and smiled, soft and languid. "Can you give me a minute?"

  Trevor laughed and did one better, pulling Sam's limp body into his arms and cocooning them in the blankets.

  ****

  His bed was empty when he woke several hours later. "Sam?" he mumbled, blinking at the light filling his bedroom. A hand popped up from the far side of the bed and Trevor army-crawled over. Sam was sitting slouched against the bed, his arms perched on his thighs and tears freshly scrubbed from his face. "You okay?"

  He nodded, wiping off the new batch that trickled from his eyes. "Fine."

  "Yeah, I noticed." He reached out, brushing away a droplet with his thumb. Sam summoned a tenuous smile and coughed.

  "Fuck." He barked a laugh, scrubbing his cheeks. "I really am okay. I feel like an idiot."

  He wiggled closer on the bed so he could wrap an arm over Sam's shoulder and across his chest. "Why?"

  "Oh, I don't know, I broke your dishes, made you get rough with me, then break down crying."

  "Well, I wouldn't say you made me get rough with you. I liked it too, you know."

  He leaned his head back on Trevor's shoulder. "Then why wouldn't you fuck me before?"

  "I'm not a one-night stand kind of guy, and I'm not the type to pick kids off the street for a quickie either."

  "So why now?"

  "I think I figured you needed it as much as I did."

  "Yeah. Thanks." He gave another laugh as he wiped the tears still trailing from his eyes. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

  "Eh, it's okay to cry sometimes. It's cathartic."

  "Cathartic to break dishes, too?"

  "Yes, but you'll be repaying me for those."

  "Unless I'm paying you with sex, you're going to be waiting a while. You know I don't have much. Unless you want to wipe my account clean."

  "No, I think I'm fine with waiting."

  "Yeah?"

  Trevor laughed, burying his lips against the marks on Sam's shoulder. "Yeah, I'll wait." He kissed the largest bite. "It's going to take a while to find a job," another kiss, "and an apartment--"

  "You're going to kick m
e out?"

  "No, just assuming you wouldn't want to be a kept boy."

  Sam snorted. "I'd pay rent, um, if you want me."

  "Sure, you can stay then."

  "Good." He kissed Trevor's ear, his lips lingering before he whispered, "Thank you."

  Trevor smiled, his hands sliding, one to Sam’s nipple and the other to his cock. "You are very welcome."

  THE END

  Author bio: Alex Whitehall is a wide-eyed babe in the world of publishing, but without all the stinky diapers. E-mail AlexDWhitehall@gmail.com or follow the blog http://creative-whimsy.blogspot.com or twitter @AlexWhitehall.

  Lisa Worrall – JUST ONE KISS (Gay-for-You/Cops)

  Selected by Lisa Worrall

  Dear Author,

  These guys are radiating love for each other.. but it's entirely new for them.. They have been best friends forever but this is their first taste of each other..

  They were both straight guys or so they thought they were!!

  And after this wonderful episode will they mark it as a once in a lifetime thing or will they confess their undying love for each other and face the reality of their love.

  They look so adorable together!!

  [PHOTO: On a beige couch two dark-haired, shirtless men kiss, mouths open, eyes closed. The man above arches back and supports himself on braced arms, so their hairless chests are held a whisper apart. The man below grips his lover's bicep, and with the other hand curves tentative fingers over his jeans-clad ass.]

  Sincerely,

  Desert

  Genre: contemporary

  Tags: GFY, Virgins, Friends to Lovers, Cops

  Words: 7,055

  JUST ONE KISS

  by Lisa Worrall

  Matt lay awake, watching the shadows from the tree outside his bedroom window play across the ceiling, listening to the soft snuffling of the warm body curled around his. He glanced down at the dark head resting on his shoulder and couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips. The sleeping face beside him was so familiar, and yet it was as though he was seeing it for the first time. How had they got here? Where did they go from here? Did they sweep it under the carpet? Laugh it off as a one-time thing, never to be mentioned again?

  Matt sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, the movement causing the arm draped across his waist to tighten in protest. He had no idea what they were supposed to do now – what etiquette you were meant to follow after you had sex with your best friend. Especially when your best friend was a guy and you were both supposed to be straight. Pulling Cam closer still, he laid his head on the other man’s hair and closed his eyes, replaying in his mind the evening they had spent together. A totally, ordinary, average, run of the mill evening of basketball and beer...

  ****

  “Did you see that layup?” Cam whooped as he did his patented dance of joy.

  “How could I see it?” Matt returned, taking another draw from the bottle of Bud in his hand. “Your big ass was in the way.”

  “Fuck you,” Cam countered and wiggled said ass in Matt’s face for good measure before he flopped back down onto the sofa beside him. “I don’t really have a big ass, do I?”

  “You are such a fucking girl, Archer.” Matt stood up and waved the bottle at Cam. “You want another beer?”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Cam pouted.

  “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to,” Matt laughed, shaking his head at the other man in disbelief. “I have no desire to discuss your ass now, or at any point in, oh, forever. So I repeat do you want another beer?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?” Cam replied, swiveling his hips on the sofa and arching his back so he could look at his own ass. “It’s not fucking big,” he griped, slapping his hand onto a firm cheek. “Teresa likes it!”

  “Teresa has no taste,” Matt fired back from where he was opening more bottles of Bud in the kitchen. “The fact that she’s dating you in the first place just proves my point.”

  “Yeah, right,” Cam snorted, taking the bottle from Matt as the other man sank back onto the cushions and propped his feet on the coffee table. “’Cos Angela picked an absolute peach when she said yes to you.”

  “You bet your big fat ass, she did!” Matt chuckled heartily at his own joke and side-swiped the hand that Cam slapped at him. “What are we watching now?”

  “Shaun of the Dead.” Cam grinned, opening the DVD case and crawling on his hands and knees over to the player. He chuckled at the sound of Matt’s groan. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

  “Dude, we have seen that movie a million fucking times.” Matt took another healthy draw from his bottle of Bud and kicked off his high tops before putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Can’t we watch something else?”

  Cam snorted and inserted the disc, closed the tray and crawled back to the sofa. Heaving himself up onto the cushions, he grabbed the remote and pressed play. “We watched what you wanted to watch, and now it’s my turn. Friday night rules, man.”

  “But I didn’t see the final shot ‘cos of your ass and that stupid dance,” Matt complained.

  “You agreed to the Friday night rules in tenth grade, dude,” Cam replied, lazily picking the label off his bottle while he waited for the movie to start. He turned his head to grin at Matt and knew by the sigh his best friend heaved, that he had him. Licking his forefinger, he drew an imaginary line in the air then pointed at his own chest and winked.

  “Bite me,” Matt replied and settled against the arm of the sofa, mumbling beneath his breath. “Friday night rules, my ass.” He rolled his eyes as he took in the childish glee on Cam’s face in the glow of the TV. It was an expression he had seen too many times to count. In fact, he vaguely recalled Cam wearing the same one on the day they’d met. Of course, then it had been over the huge ice cream cone he was holding in his hand, while he tried to chase the chocolate sauce dribbling down his chin with his tongue.

  Matt had been eight when seven year old Cam and his family moved into his street, just two doors down from him. His lips curved upwards as he remembered the gangly, doe-eyed kid who had clomped up the path with a box of comics balanced on one hand and the rapidly melting ice cream in the other. Cam’s gaze had locked onto his where Matt had sat on the front stoop of his house. Of course, Matt had done his very best to ignore the kid, he was practically grown up for God's sake. He'd be in double figures soon, and what business had this younger kid had looking at him like that? As though they were already the best of friends?

  “Hey, my Mom made apple pie, wanna have some and read comics?” The “kid” had asked. His gaze had faltered slightly when he’d noted Matt’s mocking glance. He’d shrugged, his bony shoulders clearly visible beneath his Star Wars t-shirt, the movement almost making him drop his ice cream. “Whatever. I'm gonna have some, my Dad said he's finished putting up the treehouse.”

  That one word had immediately sparked Matt’s interest. “You've got a treehouse?” He’d tried to keep his tone even and not reveal his own excitement at the sound of that one word. The kid had nodded, he’d stood up and brushed down his shorts, casually. A treehouse – now that made all the difference. Treehouses were cool. I mean, what was he going to say? No? He was only eight for God's sake. “I'm Matt,” he’d said, then plucked the box of comics from the kid’s precarious grip and held it to his skinny chest.

  “Cameron,” the kid replied. “But people call me Cam.”

  That had been it. They’d been attached at the hip ever since. Cam had been there to hold Matt when he cried himself to sleep after his father died when they were fifteen. Matt had been there to keep Cam’s spirits up when his mom had been diagnosed with cancer, and there to cry happy tears with him when she was given the all clear. Cam had patted Matt on the back and taken notes when Matt had lost his virginity to Holly Peters in the back of his Chevy. Matt had done the same when Cam had finally had the nerve to take his girlfriend of six months, Susie Daniels, up to lookout point and use the condom his older brother
had given him when they had their first date. They’d been through it all together; college, broken hearts, good times and bad, even graduating from the Police Academy in the same class with honors and finding positions at the same station. Cam and Matty against the rest of the world.

  But through all of that…there was one golden rule. Friday night was boys’ night. Had been since tenth grade, as Cam had rightly pointed out. Of course, their choice of beverage had changed somewhat over the years, but the rules were the same. Matt had first pick, then it was Cam’s. So here they were. Friday night – watching Shaun of the Dead, again.

  Matt smiled to himself and downed the rest of his beer, putting the empty bottle on the floor beside the sofa and settling his gaze on the screen. Not that he could pay the movie much attention with Cam reciting every other line of dialog verbatim. “If we have to watch this, can I at least hear it?”

  “What’s crawled up your ass tonight?” Cam said, pausing the TV just as zombie girl number one was trying to bite Shaun. Turning in his seat his gaze roamed over Matt’s face. “You’ve been weird ever since you arrived.” He swung his legs up and brought his heels down on the hard muscle of Matt’s thigh. “Spill. What’s going on with you?”

  “It’s nothing.” Matt winced and pushed Cam’s feet off his leg, glaring at him as he rubbed his now throbbing muscle.

  “Sure it is,” Cam said sarcastically. “Just like it was nothing the time when we were twelve and you lost your Millennium Falcon. ‘Cause you’re wearing the same face now that you had on then.” Cam’s gaze was unwavering as he threatened: “Don’t make me beat it out of you.”

  Matt sighed and scratched his fingers through his cropped, brown hair. “Angie wants to have a threesome.” The words came out of his mouth on a rush of breath and he avoided Cam’s gaze, his cheeks flushing at the admission.

  “Awesome!” Cam crowed. “You have the best girlfriend in the whole world, dude! Why the fuck are you all hangdog about it? Teresa would never suggest anything like that.”