Weight of Everything

by Anna Wineheart

  “That was punishment,” Gage said. “I’m making the popcorn.”

  O’Neil gaped. Then he turned and reached for the microwave, and Gage smacked his ass again. O’Neil grabbed the popcorn bag.

  Gage alternated light smacks between his cheeks. O’Neil’s was soft. It jiggled with every impact. And maybe Gage wanted to pat him there again. Just to see the way his body reacted to his every touch.

  “You know, I never thought an ass could be this bouncy,” Gage said.

  O’Neil’s ears turned pink. “I’m going to get the popcorn bowl. Apparently neither of us remembered it.”

  “No, I’m getting it,” Gage said.

  O’Neil hurried out of the kitchen like this was some kind of a race and the bowl was his prize. So Gage followed him out and smacked his ass again. He tapped one cheek, then the other, and then he tapped between them. O’Neil spun around with the bowl pressed against his hips, his cheeks red. “What’re you doing?” he panted.

  Right, Gage had gone too far. He held his hands up. “I figured it was just some bro fun. I’ll stop.”

  O’Neil’s shoulders sagged a little. Did he... want Gage to continue? Gage stole the bowl out of O’Neil’s hands, and O’Neil squawked.

  He hurried to the kitchen. He dumped the popcorn into the bowl, reheated it, and then sprinkled some powdered parmesan all over the popcorn. When he brought it back to the couch, O’Neil was back in his seat, a cushion tucked over his crossed legs.

  There was a hint of musk in the air, but Gage couldn’t be sure if it was his own arousal, or O’Neil’s. “What’re we watching?”

  “You pick.”

  Gage scowled. Was this because of his prom memory? “I’m not picking a movie just because you pity me.”

  A grin crossed O’Neil’s face. “How about we watch Bloody Hollows, then?”

  Ugh. “Do we have to?”

  “What about Teddy Comes Alive?” O’Neil scrolled to the poster of that movie.

  “Hell, no. That’s fucking creepy.”

  “The Birth of Dinosaurs?”

  Gage frowned. “This is movie night, not documentary night.”

  O’Neil flipped through the movie reel, purposefully skipping over all the superhero movies. “What do you want to watch, then? What about this one about a rockstar—”

  “I don’t know. Something interesting.” Because like hell Gage was going to admit what had caught his eye.

  “What about...” O’Neil flipped back through the movie posters. “This one. The children’s movie about meatballs.”

  Damn it. Gage’s ears prickled. He wasn’t going to ask for it. Animated movies were something he watched by himself, or when he was with his siblings.

  O’Neil’s smile grew. “That’s it. We’re watching this one.”

  Before Gage could stop him, he hit the Buy button.

  “Hey,” Gage protested.

  “You like cartoons.” O’Neil looked delighted. “You just can’t admit it.”

  “They aren’t cartoons,” Gage muttered. “It’s 3D animation. I did an animation class once when I was in school. It’s pretty neat.”

  “Why do you get so embarrassed about it, then?” O’Neil watched him, but there was no judgment in his eyes. Just fondness. “Are you afraid it’s not alpha enough?”

  Yeah, basically that.

  “Ramsey laughed at me when I talked about watching one of those,” Gage admitted.

  “Fuck him,” O’Neil said. Then he paused, looking worriedly at Gage. “But not that way.”

  That made Gage laugh. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  O’Neil grinned, leaning in. His gaze dropped to Gage’s mouth, and for a second, he looked... like he wanted to kiss Gage. Except he yanked his gaze away and started the movie.

  Gage wasn’t sure what to think of that. He’d had some alphas hit on him before, but O’Neil... he seemed trustworthy. And kind. And vulnerable. And maybe... Gage could relax around him a little. Enough to share the popcorn, at least.

  “Here.” He took O’Neil’s cushion away. For a second, O’Neil panicked—until Gage put the popcorn bowl in his lap. “That’s for you.”

  O’Neil stared at the bowl, his eyes round. “All of it?”

  “I’ll steal some.” Gage grabbed a handful. But O’Neil relaxed and smiled, turning his focus toward the movie.

  About five minutes in, O’Neil leaned in, their arms brushing, his honey oak scent wafting into Gage’s nose. The close contact felt good. It felt like something casual, like they could relax without committing to anything serious. Gage slung his arm across the back of the couch; O’Neil scooted closer so his bicep brushed Gage’s side.

  The characters in the movie threw around some bad food puns. Gage smiled; O’Neil snorted. Gage had thought maybe O’Neil might lose interest, but he was smiling both times Gage sneaked a glance at him.

  Finally relaxing, Gage grabbed more popcorn, savoring the evening’s peace.

  It was sometime toward the middle of the movie, when the characters were trying to escape from a leaking boat, that Gage reached for more popcorn. This time, his hand encountered no puffy, airy snacks.

  Gage curled his fingers around something soft—where was the popcorn? Why did it feel like fabric? And what was that firm thing underneath that fabric?

  It felt like a cylinder. A firm bread stick? He squeezed it, thinking maybe he’d be up for some bread.

  Funnily enough, it grew thicker. It was quite a handful, actually. Was it... hard? He could’ve sworn it was just firm a moment ago. Gage tried tugging the cloth away in his search for the mysterious bread stick. He couldn’t get the cloth to peel off.

  On the screen, the characters were leaping onto chocolate logs that had suddenly turned into crocodiles. One of them almost got bitten. The graphics were fantastic.

  And the bread stick had... gotten as hard as a rock. Gage squeezed it again. What kind of bread was that?

  He finally tore his eyes away from the movie, looking down. He found some gray fabric in his hand. It had wrapped around his bread stick, and there was a line across its tip that... was very definitely not bread-like.

  In fact, that looked like a cock. It was heavy, like a cock. But it was far bigger than any other cock Gage had touched, save for his own.

  Gage came to the sinking conclusion that he was, in fact, holding O’Neil’s cock.

  O’Neil was an alpha. Gage had grabbed him like popcorn.

  As he stared, O’Neil jerked against his palm, a dark spot spreading across the fabric. Gage released him like he’d been burnt. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  O’Neil wheezed, his face red, his chest looking like it might burst. He grabbed a cushion off the floor and shoved it down onto his lap, his eyes locked on the TV. “It’s fine,” he rasped. “Watch the movie.”

  But Gage smelled the musk in the air now. He knew how it felt, having his own cock swell like that. He knew the tingle of arousal, he knew the feeling of his blood swooping between his legs.

  His own body grew hot.

  It shouldn’t. He’d never been turned on by other alphas. O’Neil was the exception. Gage stared blankly at the screen, his focus shifting. Next to him, O’Neil swallowed, squirming uncomfortably.

  For a while, nothing happened. Then the far corner of the cushion lifted, and Gage thought he saw O’Neil’s hand slipping under the cushion. Then came the slow back-and-forth rhythm, the one Gage definitely knew.

  He heard the hitch of O’Neil’s breath, he saw when O’Neil parted his lips in pleasure, his musk rolling between them. Was he stroking himself through his shorts? Or had he pushed his hand inside, and it was skin on skin?

  Gage shouldn’t be curious. But he also remembered O’Neil moaning over his eggs. O’Neil looking so gods-damned pleasured.

  He wanted to know if he could make O’Neil moan with his mouth. Besides, he had a favor to repay, right?

  “I can help,” Gage said.

  O’Neil froze. “What?”<
br />
  Gage nodded toward the cushion. Then he slid off the couch, kneeling in front of O’Neil. And he grasped the cushion, tugging at it.

  O’Neil swore; his breath rushed out of him. For an instant, something flashed in his eyes. Something primal. Something ferocious.

  He looked like he might roar and slam Gage into the floorboards, he looked like he wanted to cram his entire cock into Gage’s mouth. Gage’s instincts wanted to meet that challenge head-on, he wanted to prove that he would win that fight.

  “Fight me,” Gage rasped, yanking that cushion away.

  O’Neil’s cock shoved up between them, straining so hard against his shorts that Gage thought it would rip a hole straight through the fabric.

  It was big. Ravenous. It felt like a threat and a challenge, and Gage’s entire body tightened, preparing for a fight.

  But O’Neil shoved his cock down, his eyes flashing. “I’m just going to bed.”

  His voice had turned husky, dangerous. Sexy.

  Gage never thought he’d describe this man as sexy.

  Then O’Neil stood, and Gage got a faceful of his musk. Held down, O’Neil’s cock came within inches of his mouth. And for a second, O’Neil hesitated, his cock looking like it wanted to sate its hunger. Inside Gage.

  What would that feel like?

  “Good night,” O’Neil growled.

  Then he turned sharply and made for the stairs, his shorts clinging to his ass with every step.

  What would that ass look like, spread open? Impaled on Gage’s cock? Was his hole just as pink as an omega’s? Just as tight?

  Gage licked his lips, shoving down his suddenly-hard length.

  He watched until O’Neil disappeared. Then he pumped his cock, feeling distinctly disappointed.

  Why? Because he didn’t get a chance to feel O’Neil come apart beneath him?

  10

  Insecurities

  For the rest of the week, Ulric couldn’t bring himself to face Gage.

  Every morning, he listened for the sounds of Gage leaving the house. It was only when he was certain that Gage had driven off, that Ulric emerged from his study to make himself breakfast.

  In the evenings, Ulric’s alarm clock would ring. He’d jump and drop his reports, and change into his gym clothes. Ulric would wait for Gage to shut himself in his room, before sneaking out of his own house, getting into his car, and driving off.

  He’d begun spending hours at the gym, just waiting for Gage to go to sleep. He’d start one of the relaxing bike rides through the autumn leaves, cycling as the minutes ticked by. Then, when he’d moved through all the difficulty levels, he’d head over to the bench press, doing a few reps. Then a few more.

  Sometimes, he wished Gage would step into the gym like he had that one night. He wished that Gage would spot for him on the bench press again, he wished he would get to see Gage up close, his pecs beautiful, his legs open around Ulric’s head.

  Ulric had noticed some new things in the other bedroom. Not the one with Gage’s bed, but the empty one. Somehow, Gage had gotten a bench press in there, along with an exercise bike and a few other pieces of equipment. Most of which Ulric didn’t even understand.

  Gage had even stuck a note on the door. Feel free to use these, he’d written.

  Ulric appreciated his generosity. The thing was, he did not want to attempt to use one of Gage’s things—and somehow fall flat on his face. He wasn’t even going to take a chance. Gage probably knew that, too.

  This evening, Ulric slipped out through his front door, listening for Gage. The house was silent. So he hurried to his car, pausing when one of his neighbors jogged by with a dog.

  “Hey.” The man smiled, slowing down. He was an older alpha—Ulric had glimpsed him a couple times before. In fact, he almost looked familiar. “You moved in recently, didn’t you? I’m Phil. My friends call me King.”

  King seemed friendly. Ulric hadn’t been sure how well he’d fit into a street like this. If it was money they were concerned about, at least he had that. “Ulric O’Neil. I moved here from New York. And, uh. I’ve got a friend living with me. His name is Gage.”

  King shook his hand. “What a coincidence—I moved here from New York, too. Great to meet you guys. Hey, Crumbs. Don’t get your paws all over him.”

  Crumbs seemed to be a mutt of some sort. He’d sniffed at Ulric, and then he’d all but pawed up Ulric’s thigh, wagging his tail.

  Warily, Ulric held still. He wasn’t sure he liked dogs. He’d heard stories about dogs biting people, and he’d spent his life holding his breath whenever he passed them, thinking they might bite him, too. But if he was being logical, all the dogs he’d met had only ever wanted to sniff at him.

  King tugged his dog back with a laugh. “Sorry. He can be a bit enthusiastic.”

  “That’s fine,” Ulric said.

  King gave a friendly smile. “You haven’t met the rest yet, have you? The rest of us on this street.”

  Actually, Ulric hadn’t. He was a bit of a homebody. And he hadn’t had great experiences with his neighbors in the past.

  “Tell you what, we’re having a small get-together tomorrow. Why don’t you and Gage join us? Over at Phinny’s place. 4PM. That one.”

  King nodded at the house at the end of the street. A tall iron fence surrounded that entire property—kind of foreboding.

  “Sure,” Ulric made himself agree. This was a new beginning. He figured he should get to know his neighbors, since he wasn’t planning on returning to New York. “I’ll see if Gage is free.”

  King gave him a thumbs-up. “Great. See you then.”

  King jogged off with Crumbs, leaving Ulric standing awkwardly in his driveway. Slowly, Ulric trudged over to his car, half-wishing he hadn’t accepted the invitation. It meant he had to talk to Gage about it. Now. Because the get-together was tomorrow.

  Ulric sighed. As much as he wanted to avoid Gage, he shouldn’t just send Gage a text. He had to return to the house, look for Gage, and—maybe Gage might be half-naked, shower water dripping down his chest.

  Okay, maybe Ulric wanted to go talk to him.

  He swore at his traitorous body, trying not to feel awkward. He hadn’t met Gage face-to-face since Monday night. And it was now Friday evening.

  How likely was it that Gage would’ve forgotten that disastrous night? Not likely at all.

  Wishing he were more of an alpha, and less attracted to other alphas, Ulric stepped back into the house. The downstairs lights were still dimmed—was Gage upstairs? One of the bedroom lights was on. The one for Gage’s home gym.

  Ulric paused at the door, knocking before he peeked into the room. Then he froze.

  Gage was lying flat on his bench press, lifting what looked to be a couple hundred pounds of weights.

  He was shirtless. He was wearing a pair of shorts. And only that. Ulric wanted to taste every inch of his exposed skin.

  Gage glanced at Ulric. He did a couple more pumps before saying, “Hey. Mind spotting for me?”

  Ulric’s throat went dry. “Um. Sure. I don’t know how, though.”

  Gage heaved the barbell back onto its rack, nodding behind himself. “Stand here. You’ve seen me spot for you. Here, I’ll demonstrate.”

  He sat up, his chest a glorious expanse of muscle, his abs so defined—he belonged on the front page of a magazine. Or on a billboard, or something.

  Gage stood behind the bench press, showing Ulric the right posture for spotting. Then he demonstrated the hand holds, the motions, and got Ulric to do the same. When he was satisfied, he lay back down on the bench, stretching out like an exquisite spread of half-naked alpha. “I’m thinking of doing another thirty reps. You ready?”

  “Yeah.” Ulric held himself over Gage, his hands curled under the barbell, ready to catch it in case it fell. Gage had a lot of control, though. He pumped the barbell in reps of five, his biceps flexing, his chest rising as he breathed in. Ulric focused on the barbell. For Gage’s safety.

  In fact, h
e was so focused on counting the reps, on trying not to look at Gage’s bare chest, that it took him by surprise when Gage completed his thirtieth rep and leaned over, kissing Ulric’s knee.

  It was a soft, damp touch, there and gone.

  Ulric spluttered. His entire face burned. Gage had kissed him. On the knee, of all places. “What was that for?”

  “For spotting for me.” Gage smiled, toweling off his sweat. “What did you come back to tell me?”

  “Uh.” Ulric struggled to remember. While he pawed through his memories, Gage lay back, his gaze roving over Ulric’s chest. And Ulric felt far too heavy next to Gage’s defined muscles and gorgeous thighs. “Lemme put some clothes on.”

  “You’re fine like that.”

  “No, I’m not.” Ulric turned, needing to grab a few shirts. Maybe a pair of pants. Just so he wouldn’t look so... lacking.

  “Hey, O’Neil.” Gage grabbed his hand.

  Ulric froze. He felt like some kind of virgin, blushing over every single thing. Just because he liked Gage, just because Gage had kissed him. And Gage was now holding his hand.

  Sometimes, Ulric wished he wasn’t such a sap.

  “You look fine,” Gage said softly.

  That tore through Ulric’s defenses faster than he could think.

  “I’m fucking not.” He whirled around, anger swelling through his chest. “I’m fat, Gage. You know that. I know that. Nothing you say is going to change it.”

  Gage stood. “No, I meant it. You’re fine.”

  Ulric stared. “What part of this is fine?” He glanced down at his belly, he tore off his T-shirt just to show Gage the flab on himself. “You fucking see this crap.” Ulric jabbed a finger at himself, hating that he had to point this out to the most handsome alpha on the planet. “I can’t lose it. I’m trying. I just want to look like everyone else, for fuck’s sake, and I can’t. Every time someone looks at me, this is what they see.”

  He panted, his adrenaline spiking, his heart thumping, trying to shore up his defenses because he didn’t know how he’d get through this if Gage agreed that he was ugly.