Real.
I’m going to miss it.
I start to shove him away, but he yanks at the button of my jeans, then his hot hand is inside my pants, gripping my aching length. His jerks on my dick are painful and punishing, but I thrust against him eagerly. A low moan rumbles through me as my nuts seize up.
He releases me and steps back.
“What the fuck?” I gasp, my chest heaving.
“Get on your knees, boy, so I can fuck your face. Liars have to choke on cock before they can come.”
Jesus, he is a filthy bastard.
I want to fight him on this. I want to demand to know what’s happening. Why I’m not real enough for him. Instead, I drop to my knees, pulling at his button and zipper, eager to taste him. He hisses the moment I grip his length and lick his tip.
Thick, veiny, long.
I’ve dreamed about this fucking cock buried deep inside me for far too long. It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg for it. When I look up at him, he grabs a handful of my hair with one hand, pulling so tight, it makes tears prickle in my eyes.
“Don’t just look at it, Xa,” he orders. “Suck on it. Taste it. Swallow me down. Understand?”
My lips part. Fuck me, please. He must sense my pleas because he shakes his head at me before guiding my mouth to his dick.
This is it.
A fucking goodbye.
Since this is probably the last dick I’ll ever suck, I throw every last ounce of me into giving him head. I suck and slurp and gag. I choke on his fat dick and squeeze at his balls. I scrape my teeth along his length and inhale his familiar scent. And when I hear him grunting in pleasure, I force him deep into my throat, trying desperately to ignore the way my muscles contract to reject his thickness.
“My fucking boy,” he rasps out as he comes, hard and violent down my throat.
The heat burns my abused throat, but I take it. Sometimes goodbyes are bitter, but still fucking perfect. Once I swallow down the last of him, I stand on shaky legs, unable to meet his stare. He zips himself back up, then pounces on me.
“Your punishment,” he growls as he grabs my dick and squeezes, “for lying is to look into my eyes while I make you come. I need to see all your truths, even if you fail to speak them.”
Our eyes lock as he strokes me.
Pleasure. Pain.
Hate. Love.
Elation. Devastation.
Why won’t you fuck me?
Why won’t you love me?
His eyes never leave mine, forcing me to silently reveal all my inner secrets. The rain hides my tears, but it doesn’t hide the pain. When my body trembles with the need to come, he strokes me hard until I release with a groan. My chin trembles. I don’t know what to do.
I’m fucking losing it.
By this time tomorrow, I’ll be officially lost.
His hand grips my jaw, and he kisses my wobbling lip until it stills. “Let’s go home, boy. It’s time.”
Two weeks later…
I stare at the handful of pills in the chick’s hands, but wave her off. “I said I’m not in the mood.”
Owen’s head snaps my way and he kisses the girl he’s talking to before walking over to me. “Everything okay?”
“I just want him to party with me,” the girl pouts.
“Beautiful, we’re about to go onstage. Come find us after, yeah?” he says, turning on the charm.
She bats her lashes at him. “Sure thing, Owen.”
“Can you give us a minute?” he asks.
Once she’s gone, he grips my shoulders and leans his forehead to mine. “You’ve been different since you got back a couple weeks ago. Why won’t you talk about it? What happened?”
I clench my jaw. “Nothing.”
I’m not about to admit to one of my best friends that I tried gay. Loved it. But then wasn’t fucking good enough to stay that way. I wonder if that’s how Lex felt. Bitterness churns in my gut. I want to get fucked up, but alone.
Just like Lex.
Tears threaten, and I pull away from my friend.
“Everyone out,” Owen barks. “Right fucking now.”
Seth and Riley are laser-focused on me. They start herding people out, leaving me alone with Owen. Great, I’m being tag-teamed with their shit.
“We’re about to go on,” I complain. “We can talk later.”
“No,” Owen says. “We’re going to talk right now. I lost someone I loved because I blew them off. Not happening again.”
My heart feels as though it’s going to explode inside my chest.
“I loved him too,” I bark out, my words boiling with emotion. “Not just you.”
His gaze softens. “We all did, man. He was my brother. It crushed me when he died.”
“He was my best friend…”
“And…” he implores.
“And what?” I roar, shoving him. “What the fuck do you mean ‘and’?”