by Noah Steele
He pushed me backwards so hard, I twisted my legs to keep myself on the bed, landing flat on my back, and Derrek climbed over me, gripping my neck with a strong hand as we furiously kissed again. I could barely take in enough air between our lips meeting and parting so roughly.
I squirmed beneath him, stroking my own dick intensely as Derrek moved again, forcing me to stop when he clamped my arms to my sides with his legs. I looked up at him, his sharp features alive with tension, and begged him with my eyes to give me more. He pulled his dick back and slapped it hard against my lips with a heavy hand, and I opened my mouth, eager to take it all in.
Cupping my head with one hand, Derrek jerked his hips back and forth, pumping his dick into my mouth while his other hand stroked my cock. I practically whined as he thrust into the back of my throat, and my tongue worked his shaft until he pulled out, cock twitching, to keep from bursting. He swung a leg over me and moved to the foot of the bed, pulling hard on my arms to drag me toward him on my back.
He buried his cock in my mouth again and leaned over my body, propping himself on the bed with a knee as my dick jumped at the touch of his tongue. He continued to thrust, and I pushed my hips up off the bed, feeling his wet lips wrap around my cock until I was completely inside him, his tongue sliding up and down the length of my shaft.
Derrek thrust into my mouth slower, and I could tell he was close. I wrapped my lips around him tighter, making slow, deliberate flicks with my tongue around his cock head as he sucked me off, his stubble burning against my skin.
His hands clutched white-knuckled against my thighs until my skin turned red, and with a great gasp, he rose to kneel over me, my tongue sliding along his body from the base of his cock to his balls, and I lapped against them, moaning as he slid his cock from my mouth and stroked it hard.
His groan was like music when he finally released his load across the length of my body. I felt in on my neck, my chest, on my own hand as I pumped my cock until I came, too.
Derrek loosed a deep, almost hungry chuckle as he leaned over me again and swiped a hand across my abs, a wave of heat rocking my body as I shuddered beneath him. He licked a spot of cum from his hand before spitting into it and reached down to tease my ass, lubing it with spit and semen, pushing gently until he could get inside me with a finger.
I could feel my cock already starting to stir for a second round as it throbbed almost painfully, and Derrek moved to push his dick into my mouth as he fingered me.
I was rock-hard all over again, and I could feel the swell of Derrek’s hardening cock in my mouth as his finger pushed deeper into me. I bucked against it, moaning around the weight of his dick in my mouth until it was too much to bear and I shot a smaller load that made my dick pulse. Derrek erupted a second time too, coating the back of my throat with sticky heat before he grunted as he pulled out and turned to fall backwards on the bed besides me.
“Holy fuck,” he said through gasping breaths, running his clean hand through his hair. “That was something else,” he panted.
“Uh huh,” was all I could manage in response, a smile spreading across my face.
I sat up and looked at Derrek, the same stupid grin plastered across his face, and I couldn’t help the airy laugh that escaped me.
I made my way uncomfortably off the bed and picked up my towel, pulling another one out of the closet and tossing it to Derrek. My phone tumbled to the ground, and I picked it up, ignoring the blinking light as I tossed it to the bed and turned toward the bathroom, where I started to run a comfortably hot shower.
Derrek didn’t follow me in right away, and I walked back to find him cross-legged on the bed, starting at my phone.
“I think you just missed four very fast calls,” he said.
“What? Who was it?” I said, reaching for the phone as it started to shake again.
My face fell as I read Oliver’s name on the call display. It had been days since he blew up at me at home, and we hadn’t really spoken since then. Olly always took a few days to cool down before he wanted to talk about anything—it seemed like he was ready.
But I didn’t think I was.
I sent another incoming call to voicemail and dropped my phone again, reaching out to pull Derrek to his feet and into the bathroom with me.
“It’s just Oliver; you saw him at the bookstore that night. He’ll text if it’s important, don’t worry about it.” I turned and propped one of his arms over my shoulder, both of us on a naked march to the shower.
“Oh, the guy you dated once and stayed friends with?” he asked as he stepped into the shower after me.
My breath caught for a moment—the only thing hotter than Derrek naked was Derrek naked and wet. I shook the thought from my mind, my dick nearly swelling again as I turned to face him, running a hand through my wet hair to push it back.
“Yes, that Oliver,” I said, frowning. “He’s upset, and I think he’s ready to talk about it.”
“You hear out all your friends like that?” Derrek prodded.
“Yes, actually, I do. Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who can’t talk about his feelings,” I mused, picking up a loofa and dumping a generous amount of body wash onto it. I tossed it the short distance between Derrek and I and he clutched it to his chest, his mouth a thin line.
“Of course not,” he said. “I think you know that already. It’s just…nice that you’re there for people. I like knowing I’ll be able to talk to you when things feel rough.”
I closed my eyes and let the hot water run through my hair and over my face, taking in the warmth of it. When I pushed my hair back again, I gave Derrek a soft smile.
“Of course you can,” I said simply. “But it’s a two-way track, right?” I pushed. Derrek tried and failed to hold back a snort.
“That’s…not how race tracks work, Aiden, but I get what you’re saying,” he said, pushing the loofa into my chest as we switched places. I bit my lip and watched soap slide from every curve of Derrek’s muscled frame slowly toward the drain at his feet.
“You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me.
Several minutes later, we were clean, dry, and dressed, Derrek in the kitchen while I scooped my phone off the bed and checked my call log. Not every missed call was from Oliver, but if he’d called at all, it had to be important—Oliver wasn’t a huge fan of talking on the phone.
I glanced at the clock in the living room on my way toward Derrek. Eight fifteen. I thumbed a quick text to one of my store managers to let her know I’d be there in the afternoon before immediately texting Olly. Halfway through my message, before I could even think about hitting send, a text from him popped up on my screen.
Olly: Are you at work? Can we talk?
Aiden: I’ll be home in like 20min. Are you okay?
A few minutes went by without a response before my phone buzzed again.
Olly: I’ll be fine. We’ll talk when you get here.
I frowned. Something more than my risky fling with a stranger was bothering him. It could hardly be called a fling anymore—Derrek and I were boyfriends. We were falling harder for each other. ‘I think I’m in love with you’ wasn’t exactly a definite confession, but we couldn’t deny whatever we were feeling for each other.
Everything would be fine.
I’d keep my distance from his racing until I was ready to try visiting him at the track again, and he wasn’t going to push me closer to it. We had no secrets. It was the perfect start.
“Wow, you look like someone just punched your teeth out,” Derrek said as I knit my brow and swiped a full glass of water from the counter.
“I have to go home before checking in at the store. Olly doesn’t seem like he’s in a good place, I want to be there for him,” I said. Derrek pouted at my having to leave and spoke as he leaned over the counter for my empty glass, putting it in the sink.
“You have a big heart, Aiden. I’m worried for your friend, but I’m worried about how muc
h you seem to give to other people, too.” I knit my brow again, my mouth thinning as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Olly isn’t other people, Derrek. He’s like, my best friend. We’ve been living together for years and we’ve helped each other through rough patches. It’s just what we do.”
I shrugged, standing to round the counter and kiss Derrek before I headed for the door.
“I’ll text you later if you’re free?”
“Just come back after work, I’ll be back from meetings with my team by tonight,” he said, busy with something on his phone. “I told you I placed first in the qualifier you came to, right? I have practice scheduled today. I should be back before you get here. Let’s say eleven?”
“Perfect,” I said as I slipped on my shoes and stood up to put on my jacket. “See you later, Derrek.”
He smiled warmly as he walked from the kitchen and tucked his arms under my unzipped jacket, squeezing me in a tight hug that I returned. Our lips met softly, and an almost shy smile turned Derrek’s lips skyward as our eyes burned deeply into each other.
I brushed a finger against his cheek before I turned and left, pulling the buzzing phone from my pocket as the door shut slowly behind me.
Olly: Hurry if you can. It’s important.
CHAPTER TEN
I stood outside the door to my apartment shuffling from foot to foot for almost ten minutes before finally opening the door. The place looked like it had been ravaged by thieves. Oliver’s desk was buried under a cascading mound of crumpled paper balls and loose sheets with great red streaks of marker drawn across line after line of prose.
There were spatters of water leading from the couch—cushions lopsided in a little pile on the floor—to the kitchen, where empty take-out containers had impressively taken over a large part of the counter.
The sound of someone stirring down the hall made me frown, and I kicked off my boots to take hesitant steps forward. Oliver shambled out of his bedroom clutching a pad of paper in one hand and an empty glass in the other. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw me—he must not have heard me open the door.
He offered a weak smile and brushed past me to put his things down, then pulled me toward the couch, where he replaced the cushions and sank into the soft fabric of it as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.
“Uh, sorry about the mess. I got…I just really needed to eat something and then I thought about making a pillow fort so I took over the living room, and you didn’t come home, so I figured I’d just take my mind off things and focus on writing and—”
“What things?” I interrupted.
The only thing Olly could possibly need to stop thinking so much about was the manuscript he’d been working on for months, but he wouldn’t try to take his mind off it by working on it.
“What?” Oliver replied, almost slurring the single word.
I shifted to face him and leaned forward, my mouth a tight line of concern.
“What things were you trying not to think about, Olly?”
Oliver stood up and threw a chill from his body with a few rough shakes of his arms. He paced in the tight space between the couch and the table, careful not to knock over any of the take-out containers that apparently couldn’t fit on the kitchen counter.
I watched Oliver move like that for a few minutes as his mouth worked silently, trying to find the words he probably still didn’t want to say—classic Oliver. He was great at letting his emotions flare up and terrible at talking through the aftermath.
“Oliver,” I said, reaching a hand up to grab his arm and bring him back to our conversation—if it could be called that. He slithered out of my loose grip, a rare twist of his lips painting itself across his face, and I knit my brow, pouting. “Oliver, sit down. Start from the beginning.”
Huffing, Oliver sat next to me again, his hands balled into tight fists on his trembling knees.
“We’ve been friends for a long time,” he said thoughtfully.
I leaned back into the couch and crossed my arms, turning my head toward him. Oliver was flighty and lost track of time a lot, but I’d never seen him so disheveled. His hair was flat on one side and a dark storm on the other, and his shirt was dotted with the mess of whatever had filled the array of empty take-out containers in our apartment.
“Remember when you moved in?” he continued.
“Yeah,” I said. “You and I had stopped seeing each other, like, a month or two before, and I saw your post about looking for a new roommate on social media,” I finished.
“Right,” he said, his mouth turning up at the corners. “I remember how excited you were to find a place such a short commute to your store with someone you knew.”
“I think those were my exact words,” I said, still looking at Oliver as we spoke. “But, uh, I don’t think this is what I meant when I said you should start from the beginning.” Oliver forced a laugh and shifted to prop his head up with an arm, resting on the couch cushions newly picked up from the floor.
“You’ve gone out with a revolving door of different guys since then. Some of them were all right, some of them were crap, and all of them were boring. Your words, not mine,” he added when I opened my mouth to say something.
I bit my tongue and let him continue.
“It’s been almost three years since then, Aiden. Three years, and now you’re off with some new guy after basically just bombing things with the last one—”
—“That’s not fair,” I said as I shifted to mirror Oliver’s seated position. “Derrek is anything but boring. I might not know everything about him, but you were the one who told me to take the chance on someone out of my comfort zone, right? Maybe I don’t need to know everything about him right now. Maybe it’s enough that we know there’s something electric between us.”
“I…listen, I’m sorry about what I said when I stormed out of here, I really am.”
Oliver shifted again to look away from me, his hands folded in his lap as he stared intently down the hallway.
“There’s a part of me that’s excited you found someone that lights you up inside, even if I am worried you don’t know him really well. I’m allowed to be worried for my friend, right?”
“Of course you are,” I said, offering a soft smile I was sure he could see, because his back slouched as the tension slipped from his body. “But Olly, you kind of got mad that day. I’ve literally never seen you get mad at anything.”
At that, Oliver turned to look at me with wet eyes and a tremble in his lips.
“A bigger part of me thought all your shitty dates would make you realize you’d want to come back.”
I started at him dumbly for a long moment.
“Come back?”
“Yeah,” he said. “To me.”
“To—what?”
I stood up and rounded the couch to stand behind it, Oliver turning to face me. He was nearly in tears, his eyes big and wet and beautiful, and my heart broke for him a little bit.
“Olly…I can’t. We both know that.”
“You don’t know that! You can’t know that. You—you don’t even want to try?” he stuttered, kneeling straight up on the couch.
“But we did try, Oliver,” I said, dropping to the floor and crossing my legs. I leaned forward, crossing one arm over my legs and resting my head in the other. “We tried for months before we settled into a great friendship. Or I thought we had, anyway. You know why we didn’t work.”
Oliver rested his chin on his arms, crossed over the tops of couch cushions. His back was hunched, and if I looked closely enough, I could see the slight tremble that shook slowly through his body.
“We…we can try again, Aiden, if you—”
“If I what?” I spat before I could stop myself.
“If you want to,” Oliver whispered.
I became aggressively aware of the clock ticking over the front door behind me. I counted five seconds, ten seconds, thirty seconds, and after a full minute I knew my answer would be the
same as if Olly had never mentioned anything.
“I don’t,” I said quietly.
Oliver loosed a long, slow breath, his soft sobs drowning out the tick of the clock. I rushed from the floor to circle the couch and sit with him. He fought with me, pulling away to keep his head buried in in his arms. When he finally looked up at me, Oliver’s soft, kind face was streaked with tears. A warm trickle ran down my own cheek as I enveloped Olly in a monstrous hug.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Olly. I…I think I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Derrek,” I choked out. A weak fist pummeled my side.
“How can you love someone you don’t even know,” he spat.
I hugged him as tightly as I could, and we rocked back and forth together as he sobbed.
“This is dumb,” he mumbled.
“It’s not dumb,” I said. “I’m proud of you for telling me.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with your pride, Aiden?” he hissed.
“Nothing. Anything. It doesn’t matter. Do you feel better now that you’ve said something about it?”
Oliver rose to sit on his own, his lips full and pink and trembling.
“I guess,” he said. “I think I knew, Aiden.”
“Knew what?”
“That you were falling for him. But I had to…I had to try.”
“Forget about that, Olly. Why didn’t you tell me any of this until now? We’ve been roommates for three years, and friends for longer. Have…have you been living with me all this time hoping it would make a difference?”
Oliver clutched at his stomach, crossing his legs on the couch. He did the same thing when the things he wrote made him feel too much at once.
“That’s deranged. Please don’t think that. I wouldn’t do that,” he said, his voice cracking. “I might have offered you first dibs on my extra room because we had just broken up, but I did it because I knew I could just be friends with you. Maybe…maybe it was too soon,” he finished.
“Maybe, but I’m glad you did, Olly. You’re always going to be one of the most important boys in my life. I cared about you when we were together, and I’ve never stopped caring about you. It just isn’t romantic. We fed each other’s shadows. Your words, not mine,” I said when he widened his eyes at me. “Neither of us was in a place for the kind of relationship we wanted, but look at everything that came from us being friends!”
