by Anders Grey
“Why should I bother?” Nash muttered. “He already made it pretty damn clear at the party that I wasn’t his friend anymore.”
“So that’s it?” Cain demanded. He sounded more upset for my sake than he had earlier. “You’re not even going to say sorry?”
“Sorry,” Nash said bluntly.
I ground my teeth together. After everything we’d been through, he was just going to act like a petulant child?
All the times I’d dreamed of revenge on Cain for ruining my life briefly flashed through my mind. But those fantasies were all faded now. In their place was only a bright hope for a future between us.
I realized in a moment of clarity that I had no thirst for vengeance towards Nash. What he did was deplorable, but I’d spent too much of my life dwelling on it to waste another second of energy on him. He was just a stupid kid who did a stupid thing–and even though Nash’s rumor was the catalyst, it was my father who kicked me out, not Nash.
I let out a deep sigh.
“Okay,” I said simply.
Nash watched me warily, as if he was expecting me to lunge at him and finish what I started earlier. But though his lies still hurt, the animosity boiling in my gut dissipated. I no longer had any desire to hurt him back. Something about having Cain by my side anchored me, kept me down-to-earth. With Cain around, everything felt like it was going to be okay.
Sensing the confrontation was over, Nash slowly turned around without another word, and walked down the driveway like a dog with its tail between its legs.
When he disappeared from sight, Cain let out a loud sigh. “Well, that was a lot to deal with first thing in the morning.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I got a lot of things off my chest, and I think you did, too.” He winked. “I am kind of pissed that I’m gonna have to put my waffles back in the toaster to reheat them, though.”
“Oh no. Will you survive?” I teased.
He leaned against my shoulder dramatically. “Don’t know. Might not make it.” He faked a cough. “Might need my boyfriend to make me pancakes from scratch instead.”
My brows shot up. “Your boyfriend?” Though my heart flipped at the comment, I wanted to keep up the joke. I pretended to glance over my shoulder. “Who might that be?”
Cain scowled and jabbed me in the side. “You, idiot. Now I really am gonna force you to make pancakes just for teasing me like that.”
As Cain sauntered back into the house, I caught him by the wrist and pulled him back. He let out a muffled yelp as I pressed my lips against his. His mouth tasted like sugary coffee.
Cain blushed. “What was that for?”
“For being brave. For supporting me. For everything.” I brushed a messy strand of blond hair out of his face. “And for calling me your boyfriend.”
The color in his cheeks was brighter than any flower in the garden. He huffed in embarrassment. “Got a problem with that? I mean, I figured it’s safe to call us that now, since we fucked all those times and you said you loved me. And–”
I cut him off with another kiss before he got all adorably bent out of shape.
“Shut up,” I murmured. “Let’s go make pancakes.”
32
Cain
Boyfriends.
The word buzzed pleasantly in my mind, making me blush and shiver like a goddamn virgin. Johnny and I had been taking it slow since the night he confessed to me. After all, we both still had jobs to do. But that didn’t stop me from missing him every second that he wasn’t around. Every time I sat down to write I thought about his hands on my skin, the sound of my name on his tongue, and a lot of other things on his tongue, too.
Shit, I really was acting like a virgin.
I shivered and pushed away from my desk, rolling back on my chair’s wheels. Despite trying to think unsexy thoughts, my pants were already tenting. I scowled down at my half-hard cock.
Not in the middle of work, for fuck’s sake.
My computer pinged with a new notification. I jolted back towards the screen, my heart racing in anticipation.
My flagging boner was quickly killed by another email stating that my last-ditch effort to contact a cover artist for my new book was in vain. I groaned and slumped in my chair. Every single artist I’d reached out to turned me down. I knew it wasn’t their fault their calendars were all booked up for months, but it didn’t make the disappointment sting any less.
The release date was coming up fast, and I was completely at a loss.
“Fucking… poopy... shit,” I muttered.
Tears of frustration burned in my eyes. I hated crying for such a stupid reason, but I was so burnt out and irritated that I couldn’t help it.
A knock at the door was nearly drowned out by Roxy barking as she bounded towards it. I glimpsed through the peephole with some trepidation, hoping Nash hadn’t returned to bother me again, but my heart leapt when I saw Johnny.
“Hey!” I cried, throwing the door open. His beaming smile matched mine as I hugged him. “What are you doing here? You didn’t text or anything.”
“I wanted to surprise you, but–wait, are you crying?”
Of course he noticed. I wiped my eyes but it didn’t take away the redness. Johnny frowned.
“Did something happen?” he asked, bristling like an attack dog.
“No, nothing like that,” I said with a sigh. “Work’s just frustrating as fuck.”
“I thought your book was already finished.”
I laughed weakly “It is. But the cover’s not.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something, but I don’t wanna complain while you’re here.”
Johnny crossed his arms. “Why not? Isn’t that what boyfriends do? Support each other in times of need?”
My cheeks flushed and my heart did a little backflip. Every damn time.
“I… I guess so,” I stammered. “It’s just boring work shit.”
Johnny stepped closer, putting his hands on my waist. His touch sent a shiver down my spine.
“It’s obviously upsetting you,” he said. “So tell me about it. We can work through it together instead of you shouldering it all by yourself.”
The sound of his gruff yet warm voice was like a drug. I sighed and gave in.
“Okay. Fine. My book’s releasing in a week and my cover artist cancelled on me like, way too late, and now I can’t book any other artists in time because their schedules are all full months in advance, except I don’t have months, I have one goddamn week and that’s not enough time for–”
“Hang on, slow down,” Johnny said, furrowing his brow and putting his finger to my lips. “One week isn’t enough time for what?”
I sighed. “I’ll show you.”
I led him inside. While I pulled up the image on my computer, Johnny picked up Roxy and cuddled her. She was practically a pink puddle of goo in his arms. If it was anyone except my dog, I’d be jealous.
“Here,” I said. “I paid her half upfront and the other half was due when the commission was finished. Except she never got that far, so she sent me what she had–just the sketch and some loose color, basically.”
Johnny’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he scrutinized the image. I watched his eyes flicker across the digital canvas until he finally stepped back and nodded.
“Okay,” he said simply.
“Okay, what?”
“I can work with this.”
“Huh?”
“Does this artist respond to messages fairly quickly?” Johnny asked.
“I mean, yeah, usually within the day.”
“Can you shoot her an email and ask if it’s okay if another artist completes her sketch?”
I stared at him, not understanding where he was going with this. “Sure. But who’s gonna complete it? All the artists I contacted are booked.”
Johnny raised a brow.
And then I understood.
“Wait,” I said, my voice rising. “You?”
Johnny spread
his arms and laughed. “Cain, you are literally dating an artist and somehow this revelation didn’t come faster to you?”
With the way my mouth hung open, I must have looked like an idiot. Hell, I felt like one. I never once thought to ask Johnny for help.
“But aren’t you busy?” I asked. “You must have a big workload already, and I don’t want to impose.”
He shrugged. “I finished all my projects a while ago. Freelance stuff comes and goes, so I’ve basically been twiddling my thumbs and looking for new work.”
A flash of inspiration struck me. I quickly pulled up my author website to show him the covers in the rest of the series. At the same time, I shot off a quick message to the original artist of the sketch about permission to complete it.
“Can you do it in a style similar to these?” I asked, pointing to the covers in question.
“Huh. You write books about dragons?” Johnny teased with a smile.
I blushed. “Yes, and they sell like hotcakes, thank you very much.”
Johnny moved in beside me, putting his hand on top of mine on the mouse to commandeer it from me. When I let him have it, he opened his own online portfolio.
There were, to my surprise, multiple beautiful digital paintings of dragons.
“Holy shit,” I said.
“Are you telling me,” Johnny began, “that this whole time, we’ve both been drawing and writing about dragons, and somehow this has never come up?”
My blush intensified and I snorted. “It’s not something I usually mention when I’m in bed with a guy.”
Johnny grinned, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me close. “Well, it’s a good thing you won’t have that problem anymore, will you?”
“Nope,” I said before kissing him.
The kiss did a good job of bringing my boner back to life. When we pulled apart, I shuddered.
“You better cut that out before I take the day off work to have sex with you,” I mumbled.
Johnny raised a brow at the computer screen. “When did you say this was due again?”
“One week. Actually, a little less to do the typography and submit it in time.”
“Let’s say six days.” His lip quirked. “That’s plenty of time for a quick lay or two.”
But I was still a little worried. It generally took my artists weeks or even months to complete a job. Would Johnny be able to get it done in time without burning himself out?
“I don’t want you to exert yourself,” I said.
He shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve never pulled an all-nighter for work before.”
“I don’t want you to do that,” I said firmly. “It’s not healthy. Promise me you won’t.”
“Getting bossy now?” he teased, but when I shot him an adamant glare, he sighed. “I promise no all-nighters. How about this? I work nine hours a day for six days straight, and you bring me food and make sure I take a shower every once in a while.”
“I’ll sweeten that deal,” I said. “I’ll give you a nice, long blowjob every night, and once you complete the project, we’ll have the most mind-blowing sex imaginable.”
Johnny groaned and I saw the lust flash in his eyes. “Deal. Sure you don’t want to get a head-start on that?”
I chuckled, nodding over to the sketch file on the screen. “I think the only one who should be getting a head-start is you. Trust me, your dicksucking boyfriend isn’t going anywhere.”
“Fair enough.”
Johnny grinned and peeled himself away from me with a resigned sigh. At the same time, I got an email ping. A wave of relief hit me as I read over the message.
“She said it’s okay!” I told him.
“Great. Go ahead and forward me the file. I’ll get started on it right away. Hell, I’m not doing anything else today so I should probably start now.”
As Johnny turned to leave, I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to me.
“Thank you,” I said, staring into his eyes. “Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”
This time Johnny was the one blushing. He coughed. “You’re welcome. Um. Can I ask you something, by the way?”
“Anything.” I noticed the fidgety way he avoided my gaze. “What’s up?”
“Would you be mad if I got Roxy a gift?”
I snorted. “Why would I be mad about that?”
“No reason.” He cleared his throat and wiggled out of my grasp. “Anyway, I should really get to work if I want to finish that commission on time.”
The word reminded me that it was still a paid job, which then reminded me about the whole situation with Johnny’s parents and the inheritance. I bit my lip. I wanted to ask him if he’d decided about what to do, but the selfish part of me didn’t want to ruin this moment. Plus he seemed so eager to start working and I thought the issue would weigh down on his mind.
“I’ll pay you the other half, by the way,” I told him. “It’s still paid work.”
He rolled his eyes, knowing this was a battle he wouldn’t win. “Fine. But know that’s just going into Roxy’s gift.”
“Don’t get anything expensive,” I warned him. “I’ll kill you if you do.”
Johnny laughed and waved me off but made no promises. “See you tonight for that blowjob you promised.”
After Johnny left, my good mood slowed to a halt. The inheritance was all I could think about. He said his work dried up until my project came along, which meant he was still struggling for money. But if he found a nice woman he liked and married her, the fortune would be all his. It would solve all his problems, wouldn’t it?
Was he really going to give up a fortune just to be with me?
33
Johnny
I attacked Cain’s project with inspiration I hadn’t felt in a long time. The hours flew by as I settled into the flow state. Day after day, I entered that zen-like trance of satisfying work. Of course, it probably helped that Cain came over to suck me off every night.
Before I knew it, the six days were up. I put the tablet pen down and backed off from the digital canvas, rubbed my eyes, and looked at it one final time.
Perfect.
As soon as the wave of relief that I’d finished the project on time hit me, so did the exhaustion. I collapsed on the couch with a loud groan. It was a few hours before evening, and Cain usually showed up around this time to drop off dinner–usually takeout or something quick he’d whip up in the kitchen, like stir fry or scrambled eggs on toast.
He arrived right on time. “Hello?”
I wanted to leap up from the couch to greet him, but I found myself sore and tired from being hunched over the computer for so long.
“Come in,” I called out. “I’m just dying on the couch.”
“Are you okay?” he asked with a concerned frown as he arrived in the living room.
“Fine.” I grinned. “Great, actually. Just tired as hell.”
His eyes widened. “Does that mean you finished it?”
“Sure did.” I nodded towards the computer. “Go take a look.”
I dragged myself to my feet and joined Cain. He gasped when he saw it and grasped my arm.
“Oh, wow, Johnny,” he breathed. “This is… amazing. I can’t believe you did this in six days! You’re incredible!”
I bit my lip, then decided to come clean. “Okay, I might have pulled one all-nighter to get it done on time. But it was worth it to see how happy you are.”
Cain whipped towards me, his expression a comical mix of betrayal and awe. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sorry, I know I promised, but I wanted to get the details just right,” I said, putting up my hands.
Cain glared at me. “You did promise. Do you always go around breaking promises?”
“Aw, come on, lighten up,” I said, reaching for him. “I did it for you.”
“I know you did,” he muttered, pouting. “That’s why I’m annoyed. I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me.”
“But it looks good, right?” I asked.
“It’s what you envisioned?”
Cain sighed as he glanced at the picture again. “Yes. It’s perfect.”
I beamed, joy welling up in my chest. It always felt good to hear a client liked the finished piece, but Cain’s approval and praise felt ten times better.
Now he whipped towards me with a dark gleam in his eyes, almost sending a chill down my spine.
“W-what?” I asked.
“Remember what I promised you?”
“The mind-blowing sex after this project was done?”
He nodded once, stiffly. “But I don’t think boys who break their promises deserve mind-blowing sex.”
My jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t.”
He harrumphed. “I would. Maybe that’ll teach you to lie to me again.”
I groaned and slumped to my knees, both in defeated mock-groveling and because, frankly, my body ached after a long day of work.
“Please, Cain,” I begged. The promise of sex–and somehow, paradoxically, the withholding of it–made my balls ache. “I need it.”
Cain raised a brow, looking down his nose at me. “How badly?”
“Very, very badly.” I gave him my best impression of puppy eyes.
His eyes flickered to the growing bulge in my pants and he licked his lips.
“Fine,” he said. “But you have to earn it.”
Before I could agree and ask what he meant, Cain was already in the middle of removing his belt. My mouth began to water as he slipped it off and pushed down the waistband of his jeans and briefs. I followed the tantalizing strip of dark blond hair lower and lower until I found the treasure at the end.
“This is my punishment?” I asked teasingly. “Sucking you off?”
He huffed. With one smooth motion, Cain wrapped the belt loosely around the back of my neck and pulled me closer so my lips were inches from his half-hard cock.
“Yes,” he said, his voice low and rough with pleasure. “Bad boys get to choke on my dick.”
I moaned as a shock of pleasure electrified my blood. Without wasting another second, I licked up his balls and shaft until his cock stood at full hardness. It was intensely arousing to be on my knees, blowing Cain right there in the middle of the living room floor.
