This might have been too touchy-feely. Zane dropped his arms and frowned. Still he didn’t tell Trey to fuck off. “Your dad hits you too?”
Trey pulled up his flannel shirt to expose a fading bruise. It crossed his ribs in a purplish stripe. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate to compare right then, but Trey was aware his six-pack wasn’t as ripped as Zane’s.
“Shit,” Zane said. His fingertips touched the fence as if he’d reach through and stroke the mark. “I never hear him yelling at you.”
“He’s quiet. Likes to tell me I’m going to hell in a ‘rational’ tone. Also he doesn’t drink. He avoids leaving bruises where they might show.”
Zane grimaced at the reminder of his black eye. “I’m going to have to stay home from school until this looks better, and I’m already too behind. I’ll lose my football scholarship if I’d don’t graduate. Stupid guidance counselors are starting to give me looks. I know my dad will drag me to some other town if they confront him. This shit is so close to being over. I only have to get through this year.”
Trey wrapped his fingers farther through the fence links. “You could say I did it. My GPA is okay. I’d survive a couple days suspension.”
Zane’s eyes widened. They were close now, not even a foot apart. Trey could smell the sweat on him from his rapid walk. “Won’t your dad go ballistic?”
“He might do that anyway. It’s not like he needs a real reason. If I catch shit for fighting, at least I’d know I was helping out . . . someone.”
They both knew he’d avoided calling Zane a friend. Zane gnawed his full lower lip, stirring a longing to suck it that was painful.
“It’d help,” he admitted. “I’m no dumb jock, but I can’t miss more classes and still keep up.”
“So we’ll do it,” Trey said. “We’ll say you called my Mustang a piece of crap, and I got in a lucky shot.”
“A lucky shot . . .” Zane’s tone was amused.
“Wouldn’t work otherwise. Everybody knows you’d take me in a fight.”
Zane’s gaze measured him up and down.
“Maybe,” he said as Trey tensed with self-consciousness. “Maybe not. You’re a fast damn bugger. I’ve seen you running here before.”
Zane had seen him running? Zane had bothered to notice him among the usual morning crowd?
Trey took a second to close his gaping jaw. Zane wasn’t paying attention to his amazement. He crossed his arms, big guns bulging under the sleeves of his white T-shirt. “You should be on the team.”
“Me? Play football? You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“I’m serious. Tony Ciccone blew out his knee last week. Coach would let you try out if I asked him to.”
Only Zane could say this like it was no big deal. “No offense, but I don’t think I’m the team sports type. More to the point, I’m pretty sure I’m not theirs.”
“I have to pay you back somehow. I don’t like being in people’s debt.”
Zane’s bright blue eyes were stubborn . . . and maybe something else.
“You
want
me on the team,” Trey blurted without thinking.
The faintest wash of color darkened Zane’s cheekbones. “I wouldn’t mind having someone as fast as you to back me up.”
His gaze held Trey’s a bit too determinedly—as if he were resisting a temptation to scope out other parts of him. Trey knew that trick. He’d used it more than once himself. Being attracted to guys
and
girls wasn’t always convenient. Recognizing the look in Zane set his blood on fire, his prick stiffening so swiftly it hurt.
“Shit,” Trey breathed at the inescapable conclusion. “You’re bisexual like me.”
Zane didn’t try to deny it, though he did heave a sigh. “Don’t tell,” he said, sounding more resigned than anxious. “My life is complicated enough.”
“Sure,” Trey said, disappointed but understanding why. If his quirks hadn’t tended to out themselves, wouldn’t he have tried to pass for one or the other? Sometimes being bi felt the same as believing in Santa Claus. People assumed he was actually gay and trying to pretend. “Look, you mind if I join you on that side of the fence? I feel silly talking through it this way.”
Zane scrubbed his short sandy hair, then waved for him to come on. Trey didn’t vault over as picture-perfectly as Zane, but Zane wasn’t watching anyway. He’d moved to a nearby set of bleachers to sit on the bottom bench. Trey dropped beside him, not too close but not too far. Just because Zane was bi didn’t mean he wanted to do him. A trio of dry brown leaves blew across the track’s asphalt, the skittering sound a counterpoint to his not-quite-normal breathing.
He knew it couldn’t be normal with Zane sitting next to him.
“Sometimes I don’t know who I want to kill more,” Zane said. “Him for hitting me, or my mom for cutting out.”
Trey wasn’t sure what to say to this. Everyone in Franklin knew Zane’s mom had run away to Trenton to live with some greasy guy who sold bargain mattresses. Sometimes his commercials played on late night TV.
Fortunately, Zane didn’t require a comment. “What’s the bruise from?” he asked.
“Belt. My dad caught me watching
Baywatch
. He’s got issues about sex. No,” he added in response to Zane’s raised eyebrows. “Something happened when he was a kid. Now he’s convinced sex is evil. He’d stop the world from having it if he could.”
“Good luck with that.” Zane leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. His legs looked sexier in those worn gray sweatpants than most men’s did naked. He turned his head to give Trey a sidelong glance. “I never.”
Trey squinted. “You never?”
“You know: with a guy. I knew I wanted both since I was a kid. I didn’t actually realize that was weird until it was too late.”
Trey prayed he wasn’t giving away how much this confession excited him. “You could try it out with me,” he offered as casually as he was able. “See if it’s worth the trouble. Unless you’d rather not.”
Zane’s stare was not as informative as Trey would have liked.
“If you aren’t attracted to me, that’s okay,” he added hastily. “I know I’m not everybody’s type. We can still be, well, maybe not friends exactly but—”
Zane put his hand on Trey’s knee and squeezed. “You’re my type,” he said huskily.
Heat rolled through Trey in searing waves—up his thighs, down his chest—every drop of blood in his body trying to squeeze into his cock. His prick was so hard it was about to bust his jeans. “Really?”
His voice broke, and Zane laughed softly. His fingers squeezed Trey’s knee again. “Really. I’m sorry I treat you like you’re invisible. I’m sorry I didn’t go to your mom’s funeral last year.”
Sanity-stealing lust fought with confusion inside of him. “Why would you? Even if we’re neighbors, we don’t really know each other.”
Zane leaned over and kissed him.
That surprised him. In his experience, guys didn’t always go in for kissing. Trey was glad Zane did. His lips were soft but they pushed firmly, molding over his mouth and urging it open. Trey didn’t resist, a thrill shivering through him as Zane’s warm wet tongue slid in. Hoping he wouldn’t spook him, he cupped Zane’s face. The hold steadied Zane’s lean jaw, allowing Trey to participate with a minimum of good form. Since he had the chance, he took Zane’s sweet lower lip and sucked.
Zane surprised him a second time by moaning.
Trey smiled at the throaty sound, which made Zane draw back an inch. “You’ve got a good mouth,” he said defensively.
Trey snickered. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You’d moan too if you’d never kissed a guy before.”
“Kiss me more and I’ll moan for you.”
Zane gave him a disgusted look.
“Make me m-o-o-an,” Trey teased, sensing he wasn’t really ticked.
Zane laughed in spite of his annoyance, got a grip on Trey’s ears, and went in for the kill. He kissed Trey like actors kissed women in movies—deep and hard and starving. The force he used was overwhelming but kind of great. No one had ever kissed Trey until he went dizzy.
“Crap,” Trey gasped when Zane let him loose for air.
“Moan louder,” Zane ordered, pushing him backward onto the bleacher to take his mouth again.
Trey was already making noises. When Zane settled over him and started grinding their hips together, they definitely turned to moans. Trey drove his hands under Zane’s T-shirt, feeling up his big back muscles and urging him closer. He wanted to grab his ass, but settled for kneading the fans of muscle above it. Zane was doing fine without more encouragement. The ridge of his cock was thick—long too, from the feel of it under his sweatpants. He worked it up and down Trey’s prick like he wasn’t shy at all. His humping was a little awkward, but his enthusiasm felt amazing. Trey absolutely had not expected this lack of inhibition. More than happy to let all the tigers out, he bent one knee up to give Zane more access.
“Shit,” Zane cursed, abruptly jerking his hips away.
Okay, maybe he’d overestimated Zane’s readiness for this.
“Was that too much?” he panted. “Do you not want to feel my cock?”
Zane let out a growling noise. “I
love
your cock. I’m gonna come if we keep that up.”
“So?”
“So I’m not gonna fucking rush this.” Zane sat up, leaving Trey splayed on the bench. His erection throbbed like a Learjet behind his jeans. Zane looked at the giant hummock and then at him. “Unzip yourself.”
Zane seemed sure, so Trey squeezed the top button free, gingerly dragging the teeth open. He’d never felt like this only from unzipping—as if every nerve was cranked to maximum sensitivity. Once his jean front was spread, Zane took over, digging into his briefs to pull his cock up and out of the stretch cotton.
The first contact of his fingers was electric—and not just for Trey.
“Oh man,” Zane said, hands sliding greedily up the rod. “God, this is so gorgeous.”
Trey wasn’t convinced his prick was gorgeous. He was a good size, but his glans was flattish, his shaft oddly bulgy in the middle. He did pay attention to his grooming. As black as his hair was, his bush bugged him otherwise. Zane seemed to like its manscaped darkness. He combed his fingers through the short curls, then returned to fondling his dick. His thumbs rubbed a dangerously tingling circle around the head.
“Easy,” Trey said shakily. “I’m close to coming too.”
“Sorry.” Zane let go to shove Trey’s shirt to his armpits. Trey would have been disappointed, but then Zane bent to lick his breastbone, a big wet swipe like he wanted to taste his sweat. “Mm,” he said, veering sideways to stroke Trey’s tight left nipple. He latched on and sucked, thrumming it fast and hard with his tongue.
Trey gasped, hips thrusting helplessly upward as unexpectedly strong sensations zinged from his nipple to the knob of his cock.
“Do you like that?” Zane broke free to ask. “Girls usually seem to.”
Trey barely had breath to laugh. How many times had he imagined having someone compare exactly these notes with him? This was going so much better than he’d dared fantasize. Saying
yes
with his body, he dug his fingers into Zane’s hair, the way he’d dreamed of for fricking forever. Zane rotated his neck with pleasure as Trey massaged his scalp.
“That feels good,” he said. “You really make me feel things when you touch me.”
“You do too,” Trey panted. “I guess we’ve got chemistry.”
Zane rolled his eyes—no hearts and flowers for him—but his lips were smiling.
“Do the nipple thing again,” Trey suggested. “I felt that all the way down my dick.”
“Will you do it to me later?”
The hint of shyness in Zane’s voice got to him even more than his oral skill.
“I’ll do anything you let me,” Trey promised hoarsely. “Any damn thing you can dream up.”
Flashing a brilliant grin, Zane bent back to his chest.
He made Trey squirm and himself chuckle with enjoyment. “I’m going for this,” he warned, beginning to move his kisses down Trey’s abs.
“Uh,” Trey said. Muscles in his stomach jumped from the swirly Zane’s tongue drew around his navel. Zane couldn’t mean he was going to blow him. That wasn’t how beginners wet their toes. Then again, maybe Zane didn’t care. He caught Trey’s cock again, driving the sweaty heel of his palm up its underside, pushing the length into his stomach. The stroke felt amazing, especially when the edge of his hand compressed the tip.
It felt even better when Zane’s tongue followed the same path.
“Zane,” Trey said, his voice strangled. “We can just give each other hand jobs. You don’t have to go this far your first time.”
Zane licked the killing spot underneath the rim, where his foreskin would have attached if he hadn’t been circumcised. “I want to. Just let me know if I screw it up.”
He tucked his fingers under the shaft, tipping it back toward him. As if he knew it would make his mouth slide better, he wet his lips. Trey hitched up on one elbow so he could watch. Despite his intention to memorize every lick, his eyes nearly closed with bliss the moment Zane’s sexy mouth closed on him. He had just the head in there, cradled between his tongue and his hard palate. His hand fisted Trey’s root—good thing, considering how badly Trey wanted to pinball to his tonsils. When he was able to drag up his eyelids, Zane was staring at him, his mouth stretched open by Trey’s cock. That visual set Trey’s heart thumping harder. He wrapped his hand over the one that was straightening him.
“Keep your hold here,” he rasped. “And maybe push the skin down. I like the feel of getting sucked when my dick is tight.”
Zane’s eyes widened, his breath speeding up. Maybe the idea that other people’s mouths had been where his was turned him on. His grip grew stronger, stretching the surface of Trey’s cock better than he could himself.
Trey arched his neck and groaned. “Jesus, Zane, that’s perfect.”
It wasn’t half as perfect as when Zane slid his hot mouth down him.
Both men and women had given Trey blowjobs. He’d never failed to enjoy them, but this was an ecstasy of a different order. Zane blew him like it was a Hail Mary play he’d been visualizing. His tongue knew just where to go, his full lips forming the ideal ring for suction. Trey’s nuts drew up so quickly he had to squeeze pretty hard through his jeans to pull the right one down. He’d learned the tactic helped him hold off if he felt too close to coming. When Zane saw him do it, he grabbed the other half of his sac himself.