We all looked to the DJ booth, a mixture of shock turning into a chorus of laughter.
“Yes, bitches, it’s me, Dee Klein, your fabulous and occasionally alcoholic drag queen host for tonight’s Prom-tivities. I was just sucking off the DJ for the past hour and a half, so sorry if I’m a little late. Well, technically Iwashere. I came, all right! Jeez.” Dee Klein moved around the booth, pointing over her shoulder at the blushing DJ. “And so did he.” She rubbed the corner of her painted bright blue lip, all of us cracking up.
I couldn’t be happier with how the night was playing out. And it wasn’t even just this night, but the past couple of months, too. Everything felt almost too good to be true, like it couldn’t possibly be real. Like I’d wake up any second and be back to square one, back to before I even went to London, before I’d met Beckham.
Except it wasalltrue. Every single part of it: the good and the bad. The slow dances and the drag queens. The friends and the family.
The unbreakable love that connected us.
None of it was a lie.
* * *
BECKHAM
God,I couldn’t fucking wait to get Oliver back home behind closed doors.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d had one of the funnest nights of my entire life after the surprise prom he had organized at Stonewall. It was one of the sweetest gestures and totally Oliver, reflecting how big his heart was and how genuine of a soul he had. The music still thumped in my head, and the drag queen had me in stitches by the end of the night. She even performed a couple of numbers that had her dropping to the floor like a rag doll and then picking herself back up again and jumping straight into her dance routine, not missing a single word to the song that played.
It had been a spectacular night.
And it was about to get better.
I fumbled with the keys as Oliver held me from behind, his hands gliding up and down my chest. The key slid into the lock of my door. I pushed it open, a fresh blast of air escaping out into the night. Oliver’s hands were lower now, rubbing over my crotch as he kissed my back.
Like I said, the night was about to get better.
My entire body vibrated with desire. We stepped into my living room and shut the door. Mason and Jar both came to greet us but quickly turned around and fled back to their perches once clothes started flying off.
“Fuck,” I said in a hiss, sucking in Oliver’s breath as he kissed me, both of our clothes lying in a heap on the floor. We were completely naked, our hard cocks pressed together as I walked us toward the couch.
“How’s it feel?” Oliver asked. Now that we weren’t in earshot of a stranger, I could be more honest.
“Like I’ve had something stuck in my ass for the past three hours.” I licked my lips as I pushed Oliver down onto the couch. “And I’ve fucking loved it.”
“Oh yeah?” Oliver, the cheeky little bastard, spit in his hand and started to stroke himself off, slow and wet.
The plug in my ass filled me up. I reached around and moved it around in a swirl, feeling it push against me. Oliver continued to stroke, a drunken haze floating through his sky-blue eyes.
“Turn around for me.”
I loved this side of Oliver. It had been coming out more and more recently. An assertiveness to ask for what he wanted and the confidence to get it. I turned for him and bent over, showing my ass. He leaned forward and grabbed the rim of the silicone plug. He started to move in, in and out. I heard him spit, feeling the wetness lather me up.
Soon, the plug was sliding in and out, my entire body feeling like I’d been placed on a tightrope above the Grand Canyon.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Play with my ass.” The words fell out of me like gravel. Oliver was taking me to new heights. “That’s it.”
I started pushing back, feeling the plug sliding in and out of me. Oliver moaned, pulling the plug completely out of me, making me gasp loud and cry out for more.
More than the plug—I cried out for Oliver.
“Fuck me, Oliver.”
More spit. I bent over, putting my hands down on the coffee table. I couldn’t wait to get to the bed. I had to have Oliver here and now. It was a desire that spanned eons and couldn’t wait any longer.
Oliver pressed himself against my hole, the pressure different from the plug. It was softer, warmer. I needed to feel the rest of him; I had to feel him slide into me.
“Do it, Olly. Fuck me.”