by Noah Steele
Nobody was there.
The closer I got, the more apparent it became that the constant tapping was just a steady dribble of water from the faucet. Oliver must not have turned it all the way off. Running a hand through my hair, I spun to take a glass from the cupboard and pour myself some water. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I caught the time on the oven clock.
It was four in the morning.
I had slept for fourteen hours.
The sound of a creaking door from down the hall made me jump, and I immediately crouched down behind the kitchen counter. Shit. I’d woken Oliver. All the courage that helped me pull open my bedroom door was gone, and I nearly laughed at myself, a twenty-seven-year-old man, hiding from his roommate at four in the morning to avoid a conversation.
If I was being honest, I just didn’t want to admit that Oliver might actually be right. Things had moved fast with Derrek, and it wasn’t like me to be reckless. My eyes flashed and I grinned a wicked grin, tapping a finger on the mouth of my glass.
Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Derrek was a high-profile celebrity in the racing world. There had to be more information about him online. I’d look him up just enough to decide if it was worth getting in too deep and then reply to his texts.
I waited until the shuffle of Oliver’s feet disappeared back down the hall and I heard the satisfying click of his door, then padded my way back to my own bedroom as quietly as I could. Leaping into bed, I grabbed my phone and opened Derrek’s texts.
Derrek: I placed first! The final race is a few weeks away. Let’s celebrate?
Derrek: We should meet. I miss you. I hope you’re okay.
Derrek: Call me?
Derrek: Stopped by bookstore today. You weren’t there. Need to see you.
The last text was sent while I had been asleep. I bit my lip, my thumbs hovering over my phone, but I just didn’t know what to say. I typed and deleted at least four different messages before finally turning the screen off and tossing my phone aside. It would have to wait.
It made my chest hurt to want someone so badly without really knowing who he was. Our last serious conversation was the surprise lunch date he took me on, and we had only seen each other once since then. I couldn’t make a decision without at least trying to learn more about Derrek first.
Leaning over the side of my bed, I picked up my laptop from the floor and swung it open, hastily typing ‘Derrek royal blue race car driver’ into the address bar of a new tab. I opened two more tabs, one to look up accident statistics on professional tracks and one for general information about professional racing. The deeper I got into the racing vortex, the more often I told myself it was worth it for the peace of mind—mine and Derrek’s.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, it was still dark outside and I had become as much of a walking encyclopedia as I could be about professional racing—as if memorizing statistics and being relieved at how infrequently accidents happened was going to stop them from happening at all.
Still, it didn’t sound as dangerous as I thought, and everyone on Derrek’s team was pretty insistent about him being a smart driver. Maybe I was overreacting after all. Maybe it was just a one-off panic attack because I was so close to fast-moving cars, already upset and concerned and thinking about the worst-case scenario.
My eyes darted over to the first tab I had opened, the one I ignored until I absolutely had to know what I could find. It was time to learn about Derrek.
I laughed as I combed over the first few search results, thankful that Steven had told me about the nickname Royal Blue. I wouldn’t have found the right racing Derrek without it—I didn’t know his last name. Well, I thought to myself, you know it now.
Derrek Luna.
Racing since he was twenty-one, nearly record-breaking lap times, winning more than just a few major races over the last seven years. He was sponsored by some big names in racing, and I blushed when I read that he was a spokesmodel for a pretty popular underwear designer. I bit my lip and let a hand trail down my body, gently massaging myself as I thought about Derrek modeling jock straps.
My laptop slipped to my side as I closed my eyes and dropped my other hand to climb slowly over my abs, then my chest, then brush gently against a nipple as I imagined Derrek standing in my doorway, confident in his jock strap, eyeing me with an animal desire. I began to run one hand across my body again while the other pulled my underwear down to my ankles, my cock begging its way out to slap against my body.
I began to breathe deeper as I lay there with my eyes closed, hands roving across my body, stroking and pulling and lingering. I sucked in short breaths through my teeth as I worked each nipple in turn, sending waves of heat through my core, the throb of my swelling cock getting harder to ignore.
I imagined Derrek joining me in bed, smiling through the waves of pleasure rocking my body as I pictured him climbing over me, kissing me, pushing me harder onto the bed, working my cock with his firm hands.
With slow, gentle strokes, I worked my cock until it was rock hard, running a soft thumb over my nipples with my other hand. Low, quiet moans escaped my lips, and I began to stroke faster, imagining Derrek and I on our knees, his hands pleasing every part of me as he thrust deep into my ass. My back arched, and I let my cock pulse on its own as I worked my balls, running a hand over them back and forth, letting my fingers slip closer and closer to my ass.
Finally, I turned to take the bottle of lube from my nightstand and squirt some into my open palm, hurriedly snapping the cap shut, tossing the bottle aside and turning onto my hands and knees. As I teased a finger into myself, I thought about what it would feel like to have Derrek push his way slowly into me. I pushed my finger deeper, letting out a heavy breath, imagining the heat of his body against mine, all thrusting and pounding and pleasure.
My face pushed into my pillows as I took my other hand and began playing with my nipple again, flicking and twisting and teasing until I finally fell onto my side, pushing a second finger into myself with the first, harder and stronger. I abandoned my nipple and wrapped my free hand around my cock, pumping as fast as I was fingering myself. My voice came out in louder moans now, and I didn’t care if anyone heard it. My thoughts were all of Derrek, of him and me together.
I saw the heated grin he’d be wearing if he knew I was masturbating to just the idea of him. I felt the sweat beading on my forehead and imagined him running a hand over it and into my hair as he pulled it, taking me from behind.
As I lay there, fingers buried knuckle-deep inside myself, stroking my cock in rhythm with my heavy breathing, I let out a final gasp as I came. I tightening around the fingers still inside me, my cock practically bouncing as I shot across my abs. my chest, my cheek, soaking myself in a stream of hot cum.
My breath was heavy as I slowly pulled out of myself, wiping cum from my cheek with my other hand and taking a taste from my thumb. I wondered if it would taste better having Derrek fuck the cum out of me, my already-flushed face growing impossibly hotter at the idea. I climbed off my bed and ran the nearest t-shirt I could find across my body, wrapping a towel around myself before I dashed to the bathroom for a shower.
The hot water was a welcome balm after so many hours of anxiety and sleep and…stress relief. It was exactly what I needed, and as I gathered handfuls of water and splashed them into my face, I thought I had the answer I was looking for. I shook my hair out under the stream of water, feeling stupid for handling things without thinking.
So I’d had a panic attack. It wasn’t my first one, and with or without Derrek in my life, it probably wouldn’t be the last. They’d been happening since I was eight, and I was only reacting so poorly because it had been so long since the last one. I reached for the body wash and ran my hands across my skin, stopping to run a careful hand over the scar on my lower back.
It wasn’t Derrek’s fault.
It wasn’t my fault.
I could live with the fact that he raced professionally for a living
. I felt…well, I probably felt more for Derrek than I should after one short date, but it was more than I’d felt about any of the guys I’d dated for a while, so I didn’t care. I was into him.
As I turned to let the hot water hit my back, I smiled and thought about our conversation on the rooftop. Even then, I was ready to admit, even if not out loud, that I wanted to be his boyfriend.
I hadn’t changed my mind.
Turning off the water and toweling off, I dashed back to my bedroom, dove back under my blankets and picked up my phone, dialing Derrek’s number. It was nearly six o’clock now, and I had no idea if he’d be awake. I nibbled at my thumb as my phone rang and rang, finally going to voicemail.
High on the strength of my resolve, I dialed two more times, and just as I was about to hang up the third call, Derrek’s voice broke the silent morning.
“Four days, Aiden,” he muttered as sternly as he could. I must have woken him up. “Four fucking days. I’ve been going nuts. Some boyfriend,” he mumbled.
I shuffled against my blanket.
“Hi,” I finally said after a few painfully quiet seconds. “I, uh…sorry.”
He let out a long breath, and I heard the rustle of pages before he spoke again.
“You said you felt something between us when we kissed on the roof,” he said. “You looked at me before qualifying and smiled when I called you my boyfriend. You liked it. You like me. You should be sorry for ghosting. I thought we were starting to care about each other.”
My tongue felt heavy and dry in my mouth. Derrek went on.
“Listen, I’m not mad, okay? I…fuck, I’m still just worried about you. You weren’t responding to my messages. After Steven told me what happened, I almost drove to every hospital in the city to ask for you. I couldn’t even find you at work, Aiden. I…” he took a deep breath in and let it back out. My heart was sinking.
“Let’s go on another date,” I said suddenly, my hand clenched tightly around a bundle of blanket beside me. “Like, a real date. A long one. I don’t want to explain things on the phone. I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what to say,” I said in one long breath, my mouth trembling.
The static separating us filled the silence for too long before Derrek finally replied.
“I need to know what this is, Aiden. I wasn’t just making a show of calling you my boyfriend. I want it to be real, and I want it to be you.”
I lifted a hand to wipe a stray tear from my cheek.
“So…”
“So, yes,” he said. “You idiot. Dinner tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up?”
My chest tightened.
“Text me the details, I’ll meet you there.” I hoped he didn’t think that was strange.
“Great,” he said. “Aiden, I…” he began again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I smiled in the darkness of my bedroom.
“I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
I pushed my back off the restaurant wall when I saw Derrek round the corner. We were a long way from my neighborhood, at a hole-in-the-wall sushi restaurant that could barely seat the ten people already inside. The woman behind the counter assured me that the first available table would be mine, but that was fifteen minutes ago, and people were eating slowly to avoid going back out into the cold.
Derrek offered a warm smile as he approached, picking up his pace to jog toward me. Texts to each other were few and far between after I’d called him, and I didn’t want to say anything that might make Derrek change his mind about us giving whatever we felt for each other a chance. Despite the tension that lingered around us, the warmth of Derrek’s smile was enough to make me forget the cold wind on my cheeks.
He leaned in to kiss me, hesitating for a moment before our lips met, and I quickly threw my arms around him, squeezing tight. I could feel his body lock up, his breathing stop, until he let out a long breath and returned the hug before letting go.
So, he was nervous.
A sudden tug made me stumble backwards as I turned toward the restaurant and found Derrek firmly gripping my hand. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, small stutters of noise escaping his lips, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled me closer, and I stepped forward without a fight.
“Aiden…” he said, his hand tightly gripping mine. He lifted his other hand to cup my face, warming my cheek.
“I know,” I said.
“You know what?” he replied, raising a dark eyebrow.
“That this is weird. It’s…heavy, maybe in a bad way, and—”
“Yeah,” he said, letting his arm fall back to his side as he squeezed my hand again and turned us toward the restaurant. “I want—”
“Listen,” I said, cutting him off. “We’re into each other, Derrek. Let’s just talk tonight and figure things out.”
I already knew what I wanted. Nothing was going to change my mind.
I just wanted him to want it, too.
Derrek’s eyes seemed to darken for the briefest second, and I wondered if he was worried about the same thing. I squeezed his hand and smiled as brightly as I could, pulling him forward.
“Come on, this place was your idea anyway, and someone is finally getting up to leave. I didn’t commute an hour and a half to miss out on, what did you call it?” I paused for a moment, letting a sly grin take over my face. “The best sushi in literally all of time?”
“I’m pretty sure I said the best sushi in the city,” he said with a laugh.
I narrowed my eyes as we stepped through the doors into the warm, cozy space of the restaurant, walking carefully around the couple leaving to take their already-cleaned table. Derrek graciously let me take the bench seat against the wall.
Derrek peeled his coat off slowly as he sat down, revealing a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt that showed off his arms and clung to his abs. The two buttons on his shirt were undone and showed off just enough of his chest to make me hold my breath. I felt overdressed in my slim button-up and cardigan, and I shed my own jacket in the empty space beside me.
“I’ve been coming to this place for years whenever I’m in town. I’m addicted to their spicy salmon,” he said.
“How spicy is spicy? Like, on a scale from one to ten,” I mused.
“Hmm,” Derrek said, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Eight.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“You meant six, right? Because I can handle six. Maybe seven, since I already like salmon so much,” I said as brightly as I could. I didn’t really like spicy food, but Derrek seemed eager to share what he liked with me, and that was a good sign.
“I’ll have some of yours if you have some of mine?” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Deal,” Derrek quickly replied. A young woman set two steaming cups of tea and two glasses of water on our table before disappearing back behind the counter.
“You don’t even know what I want yet,” I said flatly.
“Let me guess,” he said, crossing his arms on the table. “A shrimp tempura roll? Salmon avocado? California roll?” he teased. I could feel my face getting hot and hoped Derrek would chalk it up to the heat of the small restaurant.
I was going to order one or two of those rolls. So what? They were some of my favorites.
When I didn’t look up from my menu, Derrek reached across the table to poke at it.
“Hey, I was just teasing, those rolls aren’t bad.” he said quietly. “Get whatever you want, Aiden.” I took a deep breath in before putting my menu aside, reaching my own hand over to grasp Derrek’s finger and push his arm back.
“As a matter of fact,” I said, letting go of his finger, “I’m in the mood to try something new.” Derrek smirked at me as he raised his cup of tea for a sip. I mirrored him with my glass of water, our eyes locked across the table.
It wasn’t really a lie. Falling back on my regular order felt safe, predictable.
Boring.
“These ones,” I said, pulling my menu over and p
ointing at the rolls. “Black dragon and spicy tuna.”
Derrek nodded and I smiled into his warm eyes.
A few more steps toward being a more exciting Aiden, I thought.
“You already promised to share,” I said, raising a hand to call the waitress over so we could order.
“Not a problem,” Derrek said once the waitress had come and gone. “I actually like those rolls. Have you had eel before? It can get kind of fishy,” he said, taking another sip of his tea.
“Would the best sushi in the city have that fishy taste?” I retorted.
I sat back against the wall for a moment, feeling pride at trying something new. Whether he knew it or not, Derrek brought out the part of me willing to take chances. Sure, new food might not seem like much, but it was a start.
“You wouldn’t bring me somewhere I didn’t like, anyway,” I said with a shrug. Derrek froze for a moment, his eyes trained on his tea cup.
“No,” he said simply. “I wouldn’t. Not again.”
I could practically hear my heart hit the floor.
“Hold on,” I said. “You said someone told you why I left.”
“They did,” he replied. “Steven said you freaked out and ran.”
The waitress returned to refill our drinks. I stared dumbly at Derrek for nearly a full minute, torn between the fear of having to tell him what happened and the warmth of his concern over what he thought was just a freak out. For all he knew, I was afraid of heights and had to get out of the viewing box.
“It’s…not really that simple, Derrek,” I said. “I didn’t freak out and run away. I—”
I took a deep breath. My eyes stung with the threat of oncoming tears, but if we were going to work toward a relationship, I wasn’t going to lie.
“It was a panic attack. A bad one.”
Across the table, I watched Derrek’s face change from a quiet scowl to wide-eyed and alert. He sat up straighter in his seat, his lips flapping silently as he tried to work out words.
