Dropping to his knees, Lucas didn’t care about the gross linoleum floor or the stale air. Nate’s musky scent filled his senses as he opened his mouth and sucked Nate’s growing cock into his throat. Nate’s fingers wove through his hair, and he made little sounds of pleasure as Lucas went to work with his tongue.
“Oh, God, yes,” Nate muttered. “I love your mouth. Better than anyone else.”
Lucas sucked him even deeper, breathing through his nose and humming low in his throat as he caressed Nate’s balls. He loved it when Nate talked while he was blowing him.
“Yeah, like that. Don’t stop.”
When Nate came, he staggered, and Lucas fell back on his ass as Nate spurted on Lucas’s face, hitting him in the eye. He laughed as he swiped at it, and Nate hauled him to his feet.
“Shit, sorry.” Leaning close, Nate licked Lucas’s cheek. As Nate cleaned his face and tasted himself, he undid Lucas’s pants and reached in for his hard dick. Jerking him with practiced movements, Nate kissed him, and Lucas came quickly.
Pulling his sticky hand out of Lucas’s pants, Nate held it up to Lucas. Hesitating for just a second, Lucas opened his mouth and sucked Nate’s fingers one by one. Nate watched with heavy-lidded eyes, and then they were kissing again, bodies pressed close.
They almost missed the stop in Manhattan, but Lucas thought it would have been worth it to go to Staten Island and back again.
Chapter Three
Lucas sped through the corridor, glancing at his wrist again as if he hoped his watch would tell him he wasn’t actually fifteen minutes late for his very first lecture at NYU. The campus at Brookfield hadn’t been nearly as confusing, and he’d gotten a late start to the morning thanks to Nate. And his talented mouth.
Despite his hurry, Lucas smiled at the memory of waking up so pleasurably. He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt in from of room 212. Through the small window in the door, he could see the professor speaking to the class. “Of course, the door has to be at the front of the room,” Lucas muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and twisted the handle.
The professor paused briefly before continuing with his train of thought. Something about Faulkner and his role in twentieth-century American literature. Lucas quickly scanned the classroom, which was both huge and filled to the brim. As he searched the rows of students, desperation uncoiled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t just stand here in limbo at the front of the room, so Lucas picked the aisle closest to the wall and started walking up.
Just when he thought he’d have to sit on the floor, which would have been fine since he’d be out of sight of the many eyes he could feel on him, a small wave got his attention. A guy with dirty blond hair pointed to the empty chair beside him, which Lucas hadn’t initially spotted.
With murmured apologies, Lucas squeezed into the row, sucking in his stomach as he edged behind chairs to get to the empty one. Finally, after scraping his chair loudly across the floor, he was sitting. His heart beat overtime, and he didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that his face was beet red.
A piece of paper slid his way. “Here’s the syllabus.” Lucas’s savior was a young man about his age with big blue eyes and a muscular build under his T-shirt. Parts of his short hair were swept up into a kind of faux-hawk.
“Thanks,” Lucas whispered back.
He examined the reading list and was happy to find a book he’d already read, Hemingway’s
In Our Time
. For the rest of the lecture, which was really just an overview of the syllabus, Lucas scribbled notes and hoped the professor wouldn’t be able to connect his name to the face of the student who’d disrupted the first class.
After they were dismissed, the helpful student turned to Lucas. “I’m Casey.”
Lucas shook his hand gratefully. “Lucas. Thanks for rescuing me there.”
Casey grinned, and dimples creased his cheeks. “No problem. You wanna photocopy my syllabus so you don’t have to ask the prof for one?”
“Absolutely. Thanks again.”
“Come on, let’s go to the library.”
They joined the crush of students leaving the lecture hall. Once they were in the corridor, Lucas unsuccessfully tried to figure out which way the library was. “Um, I have no idea where we’re going.”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Casey smiled and pointed in the right direction. “You a freshman?”
“Technically I should be a sophomore, but I just transferred here and I’m changing majors, so yeah, I guess I am.”
“Where were you before?”
“Upstate at Brookfield. I was doing premed, but it’s really not for me. You’re an English major?” Lucas weaved around a group of girls chattering in the doorway and they walked out onto the grounds.
“Me? Nah, I’m taking kinesiology. I’m already a personal trainer and I want to open my own gym someday. I just take a few arts classes as electives. Figured twentieth-century lit wouldn’t be too hard. I mean, at least the books are in
our
English and not Shakespearean stuff.”
A Frisbee whizzed by and someone shouted an apology as Lucas and Casey continued across the quad. “Yeah, I hear you. At least I understand Shakespeare, unlike Chaucer.”
“Is English going to be your major?”
The million-dollar question. “I wish I knew. Maybe. We’ll see how it goes, I guess.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You going to take a bunch of stuff until you do?”
“That’s the plan, such as it is. What year are you in?”
“Junior. Two more years and I’m free.”
The library was teeming with students, and Lucas had to line up for the photocopier. Casey checked his watch. “Hey, I’ve gotta jet for my next class. You can just give me my copy back on Thursday.”
“Are you sure? You don’t need to buy your books?”
“Nah, there’s a party at one of the frats tonight. You coming?”
“I don’t think so. But have fun.”
“Cool, man.” He smiled and waved. “See you soon.”
As Lucas waited for his turn, he smiled to himself. First day and he’d already made a friend. He was off to a good start.
* * * * *
Lucas took a deep breath as he plodded up the stairs. The elevator was out -- again -- and sweat dripped into his eyes.
Ugh
. His backpack was a leaden weight hanging from his shoulders, and he thought, not for the first time, that he really needed to go to the gym. A fast metabolism kept him slim, but he got winded far too easily.
Stifling, stale air greeted him in the apartment. Nate sat on the futon, leaning over the camera on his lap and muttering to himself. He wore the glasses he needed for reading, the black frames sliding down his nose.
“Hey, Nate. How was the first day?” Despite the painful trudge up seven flights, Lucas was still feeling cheerful after finding his other class on time and meeting Casey.
“Don’t ask.”
“Why, what happened?”
Nate didn’t look up from his camera. “What happened is that I realized I have a hell of a lot to learn about photography.”
“Well, that’s why you’re going to school, right?” Lucas kept his tone light. He didn’t want to argue, and he didn’t want Nate brooding all night either.
“I’m twenty-two, and I feel as if I’m starting all over again.”
“You’re not the only one starting over.”
Nate didn’t reply, and Lucas fought off a surge of irritation. He stripped off his sticky clothes and hopped into the shower, the water cool and refreshing. He stayed in for longer than usual, hoping Nate would be in a better mood when he got out.
With his towel wrapped around his waist, Lucas lay down on the bed, knowing he was getting the sheets damp, but not particularly caring. He shut his eyes, and a few minutes later, the mattress dipped.
Nate’s soft lips pressed against his throat. “Sorry. I’m being a douchebag. How was your first day?”
Lucas didn’t open his eyes, and he sighed contentedly as Nate began rubbing his chest lightly. “It was good.” He thought of more to say, but as Nate’s fingers started to drift lower, he lost his train of thought.
“Roll over.”
Lucas did, his towel coming undone as he shifted his body. Nate traced a light pattern on the back of Lucas’s thighs, which spread seemingly of their own accord. His cock was getting hard beneath him, and Lucas rubbed himself against the sheets.
Nate’s tongue marked a path down Lucas’s spine, and he quivered. Nate stopped just short of Lucas’s ass, and Lucas couldn’t stop the whine that escaped his lips. He felt a puff of air against his skin as Nate chuckled. “You want something?”
“Yes.” Lucas wiggled his ass, and Nate slapped it playfully. Then his body covered Lucas, and his voice was in his ear. His fingers dipped into the crack of Lucas’s ass, teasing lightly, barely skimming over his hole.
“Tell me what you want.”
Lucas didn’t answer, moaning as Nate’s fingertip slid inside him.
“Tell me, Lucas.”
“I want…you know.” He felt stupidly embarrassed to say it out loud.
“You want me to…what?” Nate pulled Lucas’s earlobe between his teeth.
“Please, just do it.”
He could hear the smile in Nate’s voice. “Do what? Rim you?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“You want me to stick my tongue in your hot little ass?”
Lucas ground himself into the mattress. “Jesus, yes.
Please
. Stick your tongue in my ass.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
The only response Lucas made was a loud moan as Nate buried his face in his ass, opening his cheeks wide as he kissed and licked Lucas’s hole. Lucas marveled at the strength in Nate’s tongue as he fucked him with it, going deep and sending off shockwaves of bliss.
His cock was hard and leaking, and Lucas came in a sudden rush, his voice muffled in the mattress as he cried out. Nate nestled close, resting his head on Lucas’s back. Lucas felt the bed shake as Nate began stroking himself, his breath coming faster against Lucas’s skin.
Rolling over, Lucas pushed Nate onto his back before ducking his head and swallowing Nate’s cock. Twisting his hand tightly around the base, Lucas bobbed up and down, his lips stretched tightly over Nate’s hard flesh.
Nate’s hips bucked up and he moaned Lucas’s name loudly. As he came, Lucas swallowed hungrily, milking Nate dry. God, how he’d missed the taste of his lover. Nate stroked Lucas’s hair and pulled him up into a deep kiss.
In a tangle, they both drifted off to sleep as the late-afternoon sun brightened the apartment.
* * * * *
As Lucas spit toothpaste into the sink, there was a knock at the door. He poked his head out of the bathroom and Nate looked at him from the kitchen, both puzzled since it was past eleven o’clock. Shrugging, Nate went to open the door.
With a burst of energy, Sam barreled into the apartment. Neither Nate nor Lucas had a chance to even get a word out before Sam flopped onto the futon and launched into a monologue.
“Oh my God, you will not believe how retarded Mandy’s being. I mean, okay, so I went out both nights last weekend with the guys. So what? It’s not like I don’t see her. I see her every day! She has her own friends too. Why do we have to, like, go on some special date every weekend? I don’t get women. I mean, I
get
them” -- he paused to chuckle suggestively to himself -- “but I don’t get them, you know?”
Nate and Lucas were both silent, waiting to see if Sam was done. He looked up at them expectantly. Lucas cleared his throat. “Um, sorry to hear it.”
“You ever have a girlfriend, Lucas? I know doofus hasn’t.” Sam waved his hand, indicating Nate.
Lucas and Nate shared a look as Lucas considered how to answer. “Yeah, a long time ago. Sorry, I won’t be much help.”
“They’re just so complicated. And I know we haven’t known each other long, but usually we get along so great. I couldn’t stand living at home anymore.”
“Okay, so what are you doing here? Go patch things up with her.” Nate stood with arms crossed.
“Bro, I just need to crash for tonight.”
Nate barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me?” He glanced around. “Where, exactly?”
“I don’t know. I can sleep with you in the bed, or something. Come on, man. I can’t go home to Mom and Dad. Mom’ll have a field day. I’ll smooth it all over tomorrow with Mandy.”
“Well, he’s right about your mom,” Lucas said, earning a black look from Nate.
Nate shook his head, sighing. “Fine. Just for tonight. Just this once.”
Shooting up off the futon, Sam yanked Nate into a hug. “Awesome, dude.” He went to the fridge and popped the top off a bottle of beer. “So, you guys wanna watch TV?”
Lucas and Nate looked at each other with resignation and settled down as best they could on the futon. An hour later, Lucas stretched out on it, trying to get comfortable as he listened to Nate and Sam bicker over space in the bed.
“Hello, I’d like to have some of the duvet.” Nate’s tone was acidic.
“You’ve got plenty!”
Lucas reached over and turned the fan on the coffee table up another notch to try and drown out the brothers. He tossed and turned for what seemed like forever before finally falling asleep.
He woke to the sounds of crunching, and opened his eyes to see Sam perched on the edge of the futon by Lucas’s feet, eating a bowl of Cheerios. Lucas blinked and rubbed his face. He registered the sound of the shower running.
Sam spoke through a mouthful of cereal. “Mornin’.”
“Hey.”
“Man, how does my brother sleep on this thing every night?” Sam fidgeted. “It’s like cement.”
Lucas arched his back. “Tell me about it.”
“Hey, dude?” Sam munched, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Uh-oh
. “Huh?”
“I mean, you’re a good-looking guy. I know at Brookfield you must have been, like, sad about your dad and everything. But Mandy’s got some hot friends if you want me to hook you up.”
Lucas desperately tried to think of a response. “Uh…thanks for the offer, but actually, I already met someone.”
“Oh yeah?” Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Cool, what’s her name?”
“Veronica.” Lucas had never met a Veronica, but he dug
Veronica Mars
, so it was good enough.
“Is she hot?”
“Totally.”
“Big tits?” Sam leered and slurped up the last of the milk in his bowl.
“No, but she’s gorgeous. And really smart.”