Authors: HT Pantu
He slid his hands round to the front of my hips, taking my cock between his palms as he rocked against me. He was breathing heavily against my ear, his weight pressed me down into the mattress, and his arms pinned me against his hips, leaving me feeling completely trapped by him. And my ass burned inside and out as he pumped into me.
“Oh God, Trys….” I felt the slow, incessant building of pressure in my balls. I wanted to push back against him, but I couldn’t move, and it was driving me even wilder as he took his sweet time fucking me right to the edge of sanity.
“Shit, Ide, you’re so—
fucking
—good,” he groaned and dug his teeth into my shoulder as his languid pace finally picked up a little.
Pleading slid out of my mouth as my body desperately tried to buck up to meet him. His hands sped up on my cock, giving a little twist each time he got to the head. I shouted something incoherent as my body seized up and my pleasure erupted in thick cords. While behind and on top and inside of me, Trystan shuddered to a groaning halt as he joined me.
He rolled away, and I lay where I was for a moment to catch my breath and readjust to the lack of weight on top of me.
“Ye really need to remember to use the fricking towel or buy me a second duvet cover,” I complained, but my harsh words were betrayed by the faint smile on my lips and the breathless tone to my voice. I flopped backward from the bed and then cursed and rolled over as my ass cheeks hit the coarse carpet.
“Trystan, ye fucker, what’ve ye done to my ass?” I arched over my shoulder and was hardly surprised to see my usually pale skin was looking remarkably similar to a red version of one of those Dulux paint shade palettes: each dark red teeth-shaped circle faded out to paler shades of pink until it hit the next mark.
I glowered at him as I placed my palm over one of the marks and it glowed hot beneath my hand.
“Well, you said I was a pain in the ass…. I thought I’d make it literal.” He was still laughing as he chucked me a towel to clean up with.
“Ye….” I couldn’t even find words to insult him with so I concentrated on cleaning myself up. I winced as I pulled my sweatpants back over my ass and decided to lie on my front when I got back to the bed. “Don’t ye fricking dare.” I grabbed his hand where it had just been reaching toward my backside.
He grinned, looking the picture of sarcastic innocence.
“I was just going to rub it better.”
“Yeah, course ye were.” I pulled his hand away from me. “Seriously with the duvet, though, Trys; I can’t be bothered to wash it every fricking day because ye get carried away.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining about getting carried away a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah, well, when I’m top I’ll be in charge; ye want t’ play the man, ye get to do all the fun shit that comes wi’ it.”
He chuckled and leaned over me to press a coy kiss to my cheek.
“You can come and sleep downstairs in my bed to make up for it if you like.”
I pressed my eyes shut at the faint leap in my heart rate that thought caused. We’d had sex plenty since last Friday, but we hadn’t shared a bed again, and I begrudged the excitement in my chest that having an excuse to sleep next to him caused.
“Great, so I get t’ wake up at six when ye go to work. I’m a lucky guy, eh?” I grumbled, but Trystan just laughed lightly and shifted his lips against mine.
“You’re such a head case, Ide; you already told me you like sleeping with me.”
“That was last weekend. I’m way over that.”
“Oh, since when?”
“Since ye molested me while I was on the phone to my mam, and made it so I can’t sit down.”
Trystan’s eyes glistened with mirth as he lay out next to me with his head propped on his hands, and he looked deliciously disheveled in the now rather crumpled outfit he had worn to work.
“Why were you even freaking out about me going home with you? It’s not like I’ve never met your parents before.”
“What if they find out, Trys?” I said in all seriousness.
He shrugged. “What difference does it make? Aren’t your parents really cool about that kind of thing?”
“Yeah, too cool.” My voice was a little droll. I honestly couldn’t ask for a more supportive family, but that was the point,
my
family wasn’t the issue here. “But what if they say something to yours?”
“Oh.” Trystan cocked his head to one side, but instead of looking worried, he just smiled softly. “Aw, were you worried about me? You’re so cute, Idrys.”
I yelped as he dropped his hand onto my ass.
“I am going to kill ye, ye fricking irritating man.”
He just laughed and gave my ass a gentle squeeze that sent a wash of warmth and a sting of pain through me.
“Isn’t that what you like about me?”
“I don’t fricking like ye.”
“Course not, my mistake.” He grinned at me and leaned forward to catch my cheek in his hand and urge my lips against his for a brief kiss. He hummed contentedly as he pulled away. “Anyway, don’t worry about Jerry. I’m not going to tell him yet, but if he finds out, I’ll just deal.”
His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he tugged it out. I considered him as he flicked through the text that had come through. “Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be going out with some of the guys from work tomorrow for a few drinks; want to come?”
I checked over his face, my own satisfied smile once again slipping into a look of concern. “Won’t that be weird?”
“Nah, they’re bringing other halves. They asked specifically for you, to be honest. I think they’re curious.”
I let the silence hang, and I rolled onto my side to match Trystan’s pose and meet his gaze with mine. “Are ye being
serious
? Ye haven’t actually told the people at yer work placement that yer dating a guy?”
“Sure I have, why wouldn’t I?”
I stared at him, searching his face for any clue that this was one of his jokes.
“Because we’ve been
dating
for less than a week, and my friends are having bets on how quickly I’ll cheat on ye.” I kept my voice slow, but I couldn’t help the mote of exasperation that clung to my words. “Do ye have no sense of self-preservation?”
“Should I be worried?”
I opened my mouth to say yes and then pressed it closed again. Because I couldn’t lie. And more importantly; I didn’t want to.
He watched the whole thing, and a languid smile slipped across his lips. He shuffled closer, slipping his hand into the small of my back as he held our bodies gently together and took my lips in his. His tongue quested over mine and caressed my lips, and he dropped his hand to run gentle soothing circles over the burn of my ass cheeks.
I realized the faint humming was coming from me this time as he pulled away.
“So do you want to come?” he asked, his lips flushed and damp and his eyes half-closed in satisfaction.
This man was clearly crazy. I wondered how I hadn’t noticed.
“T
HIS
IS
a monumentally bad idea,” I muttered as the boot of my car thudded shut. I let my head loll back against the driver’s seat headrest and started the ignition. The passenger door opened and Trystan hopped into the seat next to me and buckled up.
I had now been
dating
Trystan for a week. And after a whole seven days, the guy still turned my insides into liquid gold. I honestly could not get enough of him, to the point where even
I
thought it was obscene—and I feel you know enough about me by now to realize that is pretty impressive.
“Don’t be daft, what could possibly go wrong?” mocked Trystan, and I shook my head, jammed the car into reverse, and headed in the direction of the A1(M)—and home.
The fact that Trystan thought it was funny proved to me how much of a lack of understanding he had of this situation. When my mum had called on Wednesday, I’d just decided to let it go for the time being. I’d figured I’d come up with an excuse to leave Trystan behind and it’d all be fine. Clearly, that hadn’t quite gone to plan.
We’d gone out with his friends from work last night and it had been fun. It’s not like I walk around expecting everyone to be homophobic, but let’s face it, I might not dress or act the part, but no one is particularly surprised to find out I’m gay, whereas Trystan really doesn’t look like he bats for the other team. Plus, we’re not exactly a normal-looking couple—given that we’re both over six foot two—and we’re not going to be winning any awards for being affectionate to each other. So I had expected a bit of weirdness from his colleagues, or at least that they might take a while to get used to it. They hadn’t batted an eyelid.
After quickly establishing that, despite occasionally being a model, I wasn’t into shoes or clothes any more than the average straight guy, conversation had turned rapidly toward sports and beer and Trystan’s shockingly low alcohol tolerance. And as such the evening had been whiled away and when we’d gotten home we’d fallen into bed—both of us in Trystan’s—and I’d completely forgotten that I was supposed to be thinking up reasons for him not to come home with me the next day.
I tried to concentrate on the road rather than the pleasant wash of warmth that was brought on by the thought of how I’d woken up this morning: far too hot yet perfectly content, with Trystan’s body curled up around my back.
Right now I didn’t feel content at all. I felt anxious and stressed. I really did not want my parents to know about me and Trystan.
Not because they’d be bothered, on the contrary, I was perfectly certain that they would be ecstatic I had a boyfriend for the first time since I was fifteen. And they loved Trystan. I’d only been slightly sarcastic when I’d made that comment about the son they wished they’d had when I’d been on the phone to my mum. As if being bullied by him for two weeks a year for most of my life wasn’t bad enough, I also had to put up with frequent reports on how wonderful he was from Mum when she had her weekly phone calls with Samantha.
My parents finding out we were together wasn’t the problem. It was how they’d react when it ended. I didn’t think I could cope with the disappointment they’d look at me with when I inevitably messed up.
Then there was Jorja.
And the fact that keeping my hands off him for a whole weekend so they didn’t find out was going to actually kill me.
“You heard from Josh today?” I asked because I needed to distract myself from the shit in my head.
“Yeah, he’s doing fine—fully recovered from his stomach bug,” Trystan said with a knowing smile. “He text me today to ask if he could come and stay again next weekend.”
“Oh did he now? I wonder why, hmm?”
Trystan laughed darkly. “Indeed.”
“Can’t he find some cute guys back in Kent? A weekend to ourselves sounds quite nice at some point.”
“Huh? Planning on sticking around for that long, are we?”
I gave a small roll of my eyes and flicked the radio on to fill my thoughts as we cruised southward.
My anxiety didn’t lessen, and I gave an unenthusiastic sigh as an hour later we pulled off the M1 just north of Sheffield and switched to the narrow winding lanes that would lead us into the depths of the Peak District. Outside it was raining, and the windscreen wipers were a squeaky drum beat in the background.
“You’re actually really worried about this, aren’t you?” I glanced briefly across at Trystan. He was staring at me with an unusual amount of concern. “But why? Your parents know you’re gay. Aren’t they cool with it?”
My face crumpled.
“Yeah, they know I’m gay, and they also worship the ground ye walk on.”
He grinned. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem isn’t this weekend, or maybe it will be with Jorja… urgh. The problem will be when I mess this shit up and they hate me for leaving ye/cheating on ye/whatever.”
“Hmm, so if your parents find out, then you won’t be able to leave me; is that what you’re saying?”
“Don’t sound like that’s a good thing. Ye’ve only had t’ deal wi’ me for a week.”
Trystan just laughed, and then he reached over and gave my thigh a quick squeeze.
“You shouldn’t worry so much. But sure, if you don’t want them to know, we’ll just keep it quiet. Easy.”
“Except it’s not, because my sister has no brain-to-mouth filter sometimes, and if she notices something, she’s bound to just blurt it out in front of them.”
“Well Jorja already knows I like you, so she’s not likely to say anything about it in front of anyone.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, and then his tone turned sly. “And of course, you don’t really like me, so why would she notice anything on your part?”
“Yer such a pain in the ass, Trys.”
“Hmm, what was that? You want me to bite your ass again?”
“Fricking hell.” The thought of Wednesday evening sent a wash of heat down my spine, and I shifted against the still not completely healed marks on my backside.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Trystan’s smug smile slip into a sigh. “If you’re really so worried, I’ll just call your sister. If we tell her, she’ll know to keep it a secret.”
I made a strangled noise in the back of my throat. She was never,
ever
going to let me live this down.
“Fine; call her. Just brace yerself for squealing,” I relented, because one of them knowing was better than all three.
I tried to concentrate on the road and breathing to the bottom of my lungs as Trystan pulled his phone out and hit call. He switched it straight to speaker, which I wasn’t sure was a good thing or not.
“
Hey, Trys, ye guys stuck in traffic or some’at? Dinner is stew so it can wait.
” My sister’s voice came down the line, and I kept quiet and my eyes on the road.
“It’s been pretty clear so far. You by yourself? I need to ask you about something.”
“
Nope, but give me a sec… right, all alone, what’s up?
”
“Hmm.” I saw Trystan glance in my direction. “Well yer brother is freaking out about me coming home with him.”
“
Ye guys still not sorted yer shit out? This is getting stupid. Why don’t ye just tell him ye like him already?
”