Hehe so it’s been over a year . . .
I apologize. Here’s the link to part one, in case you missed it.
Jake’s lips part and then my tongue is rubbing against my best friend’s like it’s the most natural thing to do. He kisses me like he’s drowning, so, so eager that I can’t help but be infected, giving into his pace without a fight. I grab onto his thighs, hitch him up and feel his legs wrap around me. He makes this soft little noise in the back of his throat as he rises up against me, and I have to fight the urge to turn around and get him on the bed, to get him under me and pinned down. Utterly unaware, he smiles into our kiss and rubs his stiff dick on my straining cock.
And I just snap.
I spin and practically throw him onto the bed, watching him bounce up, eyes going wide, before I’m on him. I push his hair off his face and meld my lips to his, my leg sliding in between his, not stopping until I can feel his erection on my thigh. His lips open so willingly for me, his hands clutching at the front of my shirt, popping open a few buttons. I tangle my tongue with his, lose myself in the pleasure of kissing him. Jacob arches his back, presses his soft stomach against my hard cock, and smiles mischievously against me.
“You want me,” he whispers and then I’m on my back with my stiffy once again dangerously close to his ass. He grinds on me, rubs our erections together and makes this soft little moan of a noise.
I reach for him without thought, propping myself up on an elbow and going for his thick, wavy hair with the other hand. He does a slow little rolling motion with his hips and pushes me down by my shoulders. His hands drift across my arms, sliding over my long sleeves and settling on my wrists. I let him hold me down, let him hover those sweet lips above mine, and revel in the way he rests himself on me, feeling secure in the fact that I won’t try to overcome him.
Finally, his mouth makes contact with mine and it’s all I can do to keep still and not give into the light touch. He moves his lips against me slowly, teasingly, like he knows I have no intention of kissing back. Then they break apart and enwrap my bottom lip, his tongue sliding out to wet me. I feel it snake back and forth, my eyes slipping closed as my head fills with uninvited ideas for where else Jacob could lick me. When he pulls away I almost sigh my relief, my cock pulsing madly for his attention.
His hair tickles my chin, makes me tilt my head away, and then a pair of soft, moist lips press against my throat. I groan, hands curling into fists as he sucks at my skin, not hard enough to make a mark, but enough so that I know he wants to.
“Jacob,” I warn him, but make no move to break free of his grasp.
Instead, I just lay there as he drifts towards my collar bone, nudging aside my shirt’s collar with his face. His breath bursts across my exposed chest and I realize that maybe, possibly, him opening my shirt wasn’t really an accident. I curse under my breath, my eyes lifting to the headboard as he gives the dip between my pecs a long, slow lick. His lips settle just above my heart and starts sucking hard, trying to pull my skin into his mouth. Yet again, my mind fills with pictures of him on his knees, head tipped back and mouth open for my cock. My hips buck without thought, effectively dislodging him from my chest.
I pull my hands out of his and grab onto the full swells of his ass, hitching him up my front and slamming my lips on his. I push his ass down, make him feel my steely shaft twitching for his attention. He sways down on me, lips parting on a breathy pant for air. I dip my tongue in between them, suck his tongue into my mouth and nip it with my teeth, massaging him after for all I’m worth. I roll over, get him back underneath me and grind up hard against him. He moans for me, his fingers weaving into my hair, yanking viciously as I do it again.
It’s official. I want to fuck him, want to get my hands in his pants and hear him scream my name when I make him come. My gut tightens, head tipping back on a throaty groan of frustration. He peppers my jaw and throat with kisses, hips lifting into the pressure of mine. I reach down between us, cup his engorged dick through his pants, and listen to him gasp when I massage him with little rolls of my fingers. I rub him up and down the best I can through his jeans, feeling absolutely starved when I see him writhe.
His hands fist my shirt above the swells of my biceps, his eyes fluttering closed as he swivels his hips, tries his hardest to get himself off. “Seth,” he practically whimpers. My lower half throbs.
I shut my eyes and bury my face against the side of his neck, hands fusing to his hips and pulling up as I thrust forward. He cries out, barely muffling himself with his hands as I suck on his neck, kiss him over and over as we slide against each other, rubbing and humping and colliding together in a desperate mutual need to come. I can feel the heat rising, my movements becoming erratic, my balls pulling taut. But before I can come, Jacob sucks in a sharp breath, his body faltering. I quickly push his hands aside, my mouth closing over his just in time. His cry vibrates my teeth and sounds so incredibly sweet to my ears as the heat flows right out of me, my cum shooting free.
I rest my forehead on his and chuckle to myself, my breath ragged. “I haven’t done that since high school.”
He smiles, his arms coming up around my neck as his head tips back, slightly letting our lips brush together. “I haven’t done that ever.”
My lips curl around a smirk. I nudge his nose with mine and tease, “So I’m your first, then?” I meant it as a joke; everyone in our group knows that Jake is a virgin.
But then I feel his fingers fidget at the base of my neck.
“What?” I push up off of him, my voice full of disbelief, “You had sex? When? Where? With who?!”
He looks at me almost apologetically. And he must sense just how much emphasis I put on the last question because all he says is: “Raf.”
Rafael. Fucking Raf of all fucking people? He’s not even gay! He’s like the poster child of heterosexual assholiness! “You’re lying,” my voice comes out flat, emotionless, “tell me you’re lying.” I know he’s not. He’s not avoiding eye contact or chewing on his bottom lip. He’s telling the truth.
Rafael fucked my best friend.
I’m off the bed in seconds, popping my shirt’s buttons back in place, and heading towards the door. I don’t even know what I plan to do, I just know I want air. I want to be outside where the air is freshest and breathe it all in so deep my lungs might pop. I take all of two steps before Jake is at my shoulder, clinging to my arm.
“Seth! I didn’t know what to do back then. You had gotten your first girlfriend that lasted more than two weeks and you told me you’d had sex and I was just so confused!”
Turn towards him. Comfort him. You have no right to be this angry. Don’t take it out on him. I open my mouth to tell him it’s alright and that I’m just being unreasonable, but all that comes out is: “You fucked Raf of all people.”
And as if that isn’t bad enough, at that moment the door swings open and in steps Rafael, my bags in his hands.
He just kind of stands there, looking between me and Jacob, kneeling at the foot of our bed, for a while. Without thinking, I step between them, arms crossing over my chest.
He nods in understanding. “So you know, then. Sorry, man, it only went on for like three months tops.”
I haven’t played football in a while, but I recall most of it when I rush my friend, slam him back against the door across the hall. My body works on autopilot, holding him in place with one forearm across his shoulders. And then my fist is plowing into his ribcage and I’m hearing the most satisfying grunt of my life. Somewhere in the distance, there are feet pounding up the stairs, voices shouting at me from all directions, but all I can really hear is the absolute silence within my head.
Someone pulls me back and I willingly go with them, slumping against the opposite wall and watching on as the girls and Jacob flounder around a slightly hunched over Rafael. Matt’s hands clap against my cheeks, shaking my head slightly back and forth.
“Hey!” He practically shouts, “You in there? The dead fish eyes thing is creeping me the fuck out, man.”
I blink hard, my ears ringing, and when I open them I can hear everything clearly again. There’s no longer a slightly muffled quality to life. I shake off Matt’s hands and nod once. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Fine?” Andrea asks incredulously, “Fine?! You just attacked Raf for no reason! Apologize or something, Seth.”
Before I can tell her that there’s no way in Hell that I’d say sorry, the so-called victim himself speaks up. “No, no, it’s fine. I probably deserve it for all the things I did to–”
“Mother fucker.” I step forward, ready to nail him in the head this time, but Matty and Kelsy cement themselves to my front, making all sorts of calming noises in an effort to appease me. It might’ve worked, but over their heads I can just barely make out Raf smiling down at a very familiar brunet. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“You can’t kill Rafael!” The twins squeal together, pushing hard against my chest, trying to pin me to the wall.
I frown down at them. “Not Raf, you idiots, Jacob.”
The entire group stops what they’re doing, not daring to even breathe it seems. Slowly, cautiously, Kelsy opens her mouth, “What did you just say?” I glare down at her, not feeling inclined in the slightest to play her little game.
“Jacob?” Andrea says the word slowly, acting like she’s never heard it before.
“Not Jake?” Matt slowly steps away from me, looking towards the smaller boy with a raised brow. “What did you do?”
Jacob’s hands go behind his back.
Without thinking, I step forward, effectively drawing back everyone’s attention. “As far as I can tell, this isn’t any–”
“I slept with Jake.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Andrea sighs deeply, resting her forehead in her palm.
“Woah!” Kelsy breathes under her breath, looking unsurely between all three of us, her eyes lingering on me.
“Seth just seemed to find out when I entered the room.”
Matty shakes his head, his hand clapping down on my shoulder. “Sorry, man.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I shrug him off, “nice little reminiscing session we’ve got going on here, but I’d much rather do it over some drinks.” My mouth automatically pulls back into the smile I usually save for way too pushy girls. It seems to do the trick, letting the atmosphere loosen up as everyone else smiles back, wholeheartedly agreeing.
“We have jello shots in the cooler! We were just in the process of getting them all out,” Kelsy says excitedly, looking to me as if she needs my approval.
I stretch the smile a little wider and use a hand on her back to nudge her forward. “What’re you waiting for, then?” The group starts excitedly talking amongst themselves about all the different drinks we can use to get drunk, and only stops when they realize I’m not following them downstairs. “Ah, sorry, guys, I have to shower first.”
They nod and tell me to hurry down, disappearing down the creaky steps. Sighing, I turn and head into my room, quickly undoing all the buttons of my shirt, and dropping it onto the floor. I keep my eyes away from the bed and my back to the person lingering in the doorway as I pick up my fallen duffle bag and set it down on the dresser beside the door to the bathroom.
When I have a new outfit picked out, I press my palms into the edge of the wood, and call out, “How long do you plan on silently watching me?”
“That depends,” Jacob says, the floorboards squeaking when he steps deeper into the room, “how long before you’ll look at me?”
I sigh, eyes slipping closed in defeat. Determinedly, I turn around, park my ass on the dresser and force the edges of my lips upwards. “Happy?”
His eyes blink rapidly, his hands curling at his sides. I’m upsetting him. He might cry. My stomach knots in on itself. “Not like that,” he cries pitifully, “don’t look at me like that!”
He shakes his head, bottom lip quivering.
I turn my back to him, listen to him sniffle as I yank back closed the zippers to my bag. I shouldn’t feel bad or angry. He didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I am. I rub at my forehead, feeling infinitely frustrated with myself, and try again. This time when I turn around, I don’t smile, I just keep my eyes on his, not allowing myself to look anywhere else. I don’t want to read him. I don’t want to know exactly how he’s feeling.
“You lied to me. You still don’t trust me enough to tell me anything about your personal life. And even though I’ve never kept a secret from you, never tried to hide what I’m doing or who I’m seeing,” I look towards the ceiling, smiling ruefully, “everything I find out about you is either through your overly honest body or somebody else. You confuse me and toy with me and turn me on and piss me off to no end.” I take a deep breath and try to quell the nauseous feeling of hurting him, of listening to him quietly crying to himself.
He hiccups when I look back down at him, his face bright pink and irritated from his tears. He doesn’t meet my gaze. He stares at the ground and seems to wither away beneath it.
I cuss under my breath and snag my clothes off the dresser. “Today, I figured out I liked you, and not in that younger brother kind of way I thought I did.”
His watery eyes fill with hope, and he takes a hesitant step my way, “Seth, I–”
“But now, now I can’t help but wonder about so many things. You were best friends with Raf first, you two were inseparable, and then seemingly overnight, I took his place. Is this how you get people to sleep with you? Am I just some sort of stepping stone in a long line of others? Was this your plan the whole time?” I rub my temples with my free hand but the aching between my ears won’t go away. “Just . . . be out of my room by the time I’m done in the bathroom.”
He calls out for me, but I cut him off with a hard slam of the door. I don’t want to hear his voice right now. It seems like everything that comes out of his mouth when I can’t see him is a lie.
“Fuck,” I grind my teeth together and turn on the water, more than ready to be rid of any evidence that I fell for his tricks.
I jog down the stairs, feeling pretty refreshed after my shower. I can hear the ruckus of the group throughout the whole cabin, and follow it down the long central hallway to the den. There, surrounded in the furs of Andrea’s great grandfather’s prey, my five friends sit on the wooden floor, a plethora of shots and glass bottles displayed in the center of their circle. I take a seat between Kelsy and the couch, leaning against it as I reach into the center.
“Seth baby!” Kelsy squeals into my ear as my fingers curl around the neck of a tall bottle of Jack Daniels. She sways into me, resting her back on my chest, and points unsteadily across the circle at Jacob. “You’re a bad boy! You made him cry.”
I spare him a glance, but he’s looking anywhere but at me. “He’s a big boy, Kels. He’s fine.”
“More importantly!” Andrea exclaims, one arm slung around Raf’s and Matt’s shoulders, “you’re just in time to play my favorite game.”
“Oh, no,” I playfully groan, taking a quick gulp of my drink. It burns nicely, warming me up well enough considering I usually go for something stronger.
“Oh, yes,” she wiggles her eyebrows my way, “it’s time for . . . naked Twister!” The whole room explodes in protests, to which Andrea cackles like the maniacal witch she is. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding!”
“Why don’t we skip the games tonight,” Matthew suggests, quickly looking my way and then pretending he didn’t, “our teams are gonna be all screwy otherwise.”
The witch makes a soft oo-ing noise, apparently having forgotten the earlier debacle in her fun. “No teams, then?”
“We could play that king game again. I liked that one!” Kelsy says, reaching her hand out and stealing my drink. She takes a sip of it and then grimaces, looking up at me from her spot slumped against my chest. “Since when do you like Jack?”
I roll my eyes and look towards Matty. “When are you going to build up her tolerance to alcohol? It feels like I’m babysitting over here.”
He smirks. “No one told you to sit next to her. Would you rather have Andrea trying to cuddle you?”
“True, true,” I nod and wrap my arms around his sister, pulling her up into my lap. “What drink do you want next, sis?”
She does this weird little giggle-snort mix and halfheartedly tries to get away. “It’s so weird! Somebody help! Andreaa!”
“No shouting in the den!”
“Andreaa, I want to play king!”
I look towards the mama hen, making my best attempt at puppy eyes for her. She huffs and shuffles around, looking over the sea of empty bottles behind her. Finally, she turns back towards the group with a triumphant grin and a deck of cards. She pulls out numbers two through six and the king card, and while she’s shuffling, I ask Kelsy to fill me in.
“So,” she begins, her gaze intent, “this is like a game of dare but without being able to know who you’re daring. The king gives out dares and then calls out the numbers that have to do it, so whoever’s king is in charge, but they can only give out three dares.”
I nod. It seems simple enough. Now I just have to hope that none of my friends become king or things are going to get very perverted very fast.
Some of the bottles are cleared away and then the cards are laid down flat in front of everybody. On the count of three, we all reach in and pick up our card, holding it close to see what we got.
I’m number six. I curse under my breath and look around for some smiling shit-eater. Surprisingly, I don’t spot any. Which means one of my worst nightmares has come true. Putting Kelsy in charge of anyone is a bad idea. She has a tendency to go too far very quickly once she gets into anything, making her the worst person to ever compare to higher up royalty.
“Kelsy’s the king!” Andrea declares loudly, looking almost pleased.
“Aw yiss,” Kelsy rubs her hands together evilly and scrambles onto the couch. Everyone quickly places their cards face down so she can’t see them. “Numbers two and three kiss!”
Raf and Matt look around, make eye contact, and turn green. Kelsy screams like a banshee, bouncing up and down as if she’s been electrocuted. I eye the two men with very real pity as they inch towards each other, creeping forward on their hands and knees. Their faces come closer and closer, and at the last second turn, so they’re only kissing each other’s cheeks.
Andrea howls with laughter at their victory, pointing mockingly at a pouting Kelsy. Kelsy glares right back and angrily says, “Numbers four and six,” I tilt my head back to look at her, “are banished to the closet for seven minutes!” Well, that was rather tame. The king looks at Andrea, waiting for her to stand, but the other girl doesn’t.
I almost laugh at Kelsy’s failed attempt at punishing Andrea until it dawns on me that if the mama hen isn’t going in with me, then that can only mean one thing.
The group seems to realize the same thing and suddenly the light atmosphere is evaporating. I take in all the serious, concerned faces of my friends, and sigh, getting to my feet. In an effort to save the mood, I force a lighthearted smile and bow to them, reaching my hand out for Jacob to grab onto.
“What is he, a princess?” Kelsy giggles, making most of the others laugh along with her.
“Oh, please,” I joke, fingers curling around his and tugging him up against me, “one princess is already too much to handle.”
Jacob stays completely silent and tense as the rest of the group starts cracking jokes about how spoiled Matty’s made Kelsy. Not bothering to wait, I make my way to the hallway, towing my unwilling partner behind me. Across the hall is the largest closet on the property, so I drop his hand and step inside. He seems to hesitate on the threshold, his fingers fidgeting at his sides.
“Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner the seven minutes is up.”
He closes the door behind him, effectively sealing us in chest to chest, packed together like a pair of sardines. Thankfully, the space isn’t completely dark since the door jam seems to be a bit too big for the actual door, giving us a good deal of light. The only complaint I have, besides the obvious, are the wooden shelves pressing uncomfortably against my spine, but I bear it, knowing that if I move away from them, I’ll end up giving Jacob the wrong idea.
“I didn’t lie to you,” he says softly.
I scoff and take a glance at my phone’s screen. “Don’t bother, Jacob.”
“Well, when else am I supposed to talk to you?”
“Anytime during the three months you were screwing Rafael, but that’s just common decency between pals, wouldn’t expect you to know anything about it.”
He huffs. “You’re being childish!”
“I know, hence why I don’t want to talk to you!”
“Then, don’t talk. You did all the talking last time, so now it’s my turn!” I bite my tongue and stand there. Not like there’s anything else to do. “I didn’t sleep with him on purpose–”
“Oh, come on! So you just fell onto his dick?”
“Shut up! I might have, but I don’t know. The first time, I was drunk when he found me, and then suddenly it was morning and I was very, very–
“Spare me the details, princess.”
“Fine. After that, I was really unsure of a lot of things, like why I was jealous of your girlfriend in the first place and why I liked you so much and why I did that with Raf. I was a teenager, Seth; my hormones were all over the place, and I was so fucking confused. It was so much easier to just hook up with someone familiar than to tell a straight guy that I would very much like to personally experience all of the stories he told me. Do you know how terrified I was of you finding out? You play football! You’re huge. You fuck anything with a vagina and leave a trail of testosterone anywhere you go! I read so many stories about people like you beating the shit out of people like me for even mentioning the word gay.”
I clench my jaw. “You thought I would hit you?”
“Wouldn’t you? Didn’t you hit Raf today? And you said you wanted to kill me!”
“After I came just from rubbing against you,” I have to swallow hard to keep from remembering it, quickly changing the subject to avoid anymore talk about it, “I would never hit you. Rafael is a different story. He’s like the walking Hulk; he can take a few punches and then some.”
“But . . .” he trembles against me, his voice growing softer, “the way you looked at me, Seth! Don’t you hate me? Aren’t you disgusted by what we did?”
I push my fingers through my hair and shake my head. “When the fuck did I say that?”
He finally looks up at me, his face shrouded in shadows. “You don’t have to say it for me to know, idiot. I’m your best friend. I may not be some weird sort of psychic like you, but I can at least read your expressions!”
“You suck at reading me, then.” Even though I know the time isn’t up, I still reach around behind him and grab at the handle. I open the door and squeeze past him.
“Seth,” he calls after me, following behind as I head for the kitchen.
I sigh, scrub my fingers over my face as we pass the den, and turn right into my destination. Surprisingly, all the counters are clean, void of alcohol in any shape or form. How disappointing. Moving around the island in the middle of the room, I head straight for the fridge.
Just as I’m reaching for the handle, Jacob slides in around me, his entire body pressed against the door. I lift an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “You do realize that I’m by far the stronger of the two of us, right?”
His jaw clenches. “You won’t hurt me. You said so yourself.”
Sighing, I look him over once. “You’re trembling. Get out of the way.”
“Can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen?” He smiles sheepishly up at me.
I roll my eyes and lean into him, let my face come within an inch of his. “I can handle the heat. You can’t.”
He eyes me determinedly, not backing down. “Can you? Every time I try to talk seriously with you, you either walk away or tell me to.”
I roll my eyes heavenward and push off away from the fridge, settling down against the island instead. “Haven’t I heard everything you have to say? Why are you still pestering me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, mimicking my positioning. “What else am I supposed to do to make you listen to me? Fade away into the night?” I grit my teeth, knowing that if I open my mouth I’ll say something stupid, like yes, and then he’ll do something even dumber, listen to me. “I won’t, even if you tell me to.”
I frown at him. “Why not?”
“I lied,” I fling my hands in the air, mouth opening to say I knew it, when he continues, “I didn’t become friends with you because I thought you were cool . . . or at least not in the way you thought I meant. And I didn’t just suddenly stop being best friends with Rafael, either. I’ve liked you for a long, long time, like before you even knew I existed, because Raf took me to one of your home games. And you were so fast and strong, and then you took off your helmet and your hair looked like the most delicious lion’s mane I have ever seen and–”
“Did you just call my hair delicious?”
“Focus, Seth! And then I kept seeing you in the halls and you had so many fans. And then Andrea invited you and all of us out and I thought I was gonna die I was so happy! And you liked me. You told me that you liked me and wanted to hang out! And then–”
“Okay, okay I get it!” I fight back a smile and shake my head, “I accidentally became friends with a crazy stalker fan.”
He tries to protest but gives up before even saying anything. Instead, he just leans towards me, watching my face, his eyes intense, focused. “I love you, and I,” he falters and takes a deep breath, stepping hesitantly my way, “I think you love me, too.” Another step. “Or maybe I’m just being hopeful,” another, “but you didn’t dislike kissing me or holding me.”
I watch him warily, for once not able to read his body language and kind of enjoying it. This Jacob is a new one. His steps are languid, graceful, as if he’s not on land but back in the water, doing all those entrancing different styles of swimming. I can’t help but react, my every muscle tensing, hands sliding back to grab onto the counter. I want to touch him. Fuck, I almost groan when his hand touches down on my chest, sliding up as his body leans into me.
“You like me,” he says in a whisper, his eyes locking with mine. There’s something different there, too. The usual soft brown has turned molten, tempting.
“What,” I clear my throat, trying to rid it of some of its scratchiness, “are you doing?”
He smiles faintly up at me, and I lean in without thought, my eyes stuck on the soft curl of his lips. “I’m showing you what I usually try to hide.”
I hum, my hands slipping away from the counter in favor of grasping his hips. “And that would be?”
“How much I want you.” His head tips back, tongue snaking across his bottom lip.
I pull him closer. “Seduction,” I slide one of my hands’ fingers into his hair and pull backwards, “won’t solve any of our problems.” My lips find his neck, my breath bringing up goosebumps along his skin. It feels so good to touch him again that I willingly forget for a moment that I was mad in the first place.
“I know,” he says, hands drifting back along my waist, “but I don’t care if you only ever want me for sex, so long as you’ll be mine when we’re together.”
The words come out softly, innocently, but they manage to jar me back to reality where that is an incredibly fucked up thing to say. I sigh against him, my arms curling around him and hugging him to my chest. “I’m not that kind of person, Jake, and you know it.”
His hands grab at my shoulders, attempt to push me away, but I won’t budge. This is awful, I finally acknowledge, completely fed up with this festering knot in my stomach. I shouldn’t be jealous. I’m in my senior year of college; I have no right to linger on what happened during my high school days. I didn’t even think of Jake in that way before.
I huff and let him go.
Part Three: Coming Sooner than 1+ year, I promise!