I need to thank TwiSlash Unveiled for featuring Hard last week and also PPSS for putting Hard on the Lemon Report. Thanks ladies!
Thanks to MeteorMuse, my beta and soon to be RL business partner.
To TippyL, you are always on my mind bb. No matter how near or far. Very, very far.
And to SadTomato for being so incredible and talking to me on gchat every day about such varied topics as boysecks, rim jobs, threesomes, and double penetration. If you haven't read our collab What Happens In Zurich, get yourself over to the Eurofornication contest account and read that hotness.
I don't claim to own Twilight. Unless there's a chapter with rimming. Then I might try to say I wrote it.
ooOOoo
11:44 p.m. My hand is shaking as I dial the number from the little slip of paper. I put it to my ear.
Ring.
Deep breath. No big deal.
Ring.
Jesus, what am I doing?
Ring.
Mother fuck, I should just hang up.
"Hello?" The groggy reply comes through the phone so quietly I nearly miss it.
Shit. He was sleeping. I'm such an asshole.
"Hello? Who's there?" Dammit, I haven't even answered yet. He probably thinks someone has a wrong number or something.
I clear my throat and weakly stammer, "H-hi. It's … it's Edward. From Starbucks, err, Starfucks? Today? I mean … this morning, actually. But that's still today for, like, ten more minutes, I think ..."
"Edward? Hey man, I know who you are. Stop explaining. You need a ride somewhere?" Garrett covers the phone and clears his throat, obviously trying to clear the sleep from his voice.
Fuck. Of course. He thinks the only reason I'm calling at this time on a week night is if I'm drunk. Although … I have been drinking.
"Oh. Um, yes? I was just, I mean, I'm walking home. I don't know." Lame. How many times am I going to talk to a guy in my life and sound this freaking lame?
"Edward, it's no problem. Where are you? I can come give you a ride. I just need to pull some clothes on." Hmm. The thought of Garrett"giving me a ride" combined with the visual of him with no clothes on makes my dick harden in my jeans, and I reach down to adjust myself.
"Okay, well, I'm … shit, where am I? I'm somewhere between Rag Tag and my house? God, I'm an idiot."
Garrett lets out a deep, throaty laugh, and after a few seconds, I can't help but join him.
"Have you gone far? Why don't I meet you at the corner of campus on Hitt Street? Are you close to there? Can you give me five minutes?" I hear rustling in the background while he's talking – the rough slide of a zipper, a jangling of keys, maybe the light clicking of a pair of glasses hitting his phone as he slides them on.
"Sure, that would be great. But hurry — it's fucking freezing out here," I tell him.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Keep your pants on."
Oh, Garrett. Between the sound of your voice on the phone and the way you keep phrasing things, you have no idea how badly I want my pants off right now.
"Edward? You wanna talk on my way, or are we hanging up now?" Garrett seems uncertain, like maybe he asked me something when I was daydreaming about us with our pants off.
"Oh. Yeah, we can talk. So … what's up?" I ask.
"Well … actually, I was sleeping. I have an eight o'clock class Monday, Wednesday and Friday, so I go to bed fairly early." Shit. He's probably irritated with me, but he's too nice to let it show.
"Oh. Sorry. I mean, I can let you go. Seriously. Go back to bed." Take me there with you.
"Edward. For the last time, stop it. I'm pulling out of my driveway right now. See you in a few minutes." With a soft goodbye, he hangs up the phone, and I'm left standing there on the street corner in the cold. Waiting.
With a groan, I wonder what the hell I've done. I mean, what's he going to think when he sees that I'm literally five blocks from my house?
ooOOoo
"Shit. Oh God. Fuck. Ohhhhh, yes." My voice seems to echo through my bedroom, and I throw my head back against my pillow, riding out my orgasm.
I glance over at the clock. 1:22 a.m. Thirteen minutes since Garrett left, and I've already managed to jerk one out. Jesus. I'm so fucking horny.
As I wander into the bathroom to clean up, I nearly trip over a sweatshirt on the floor. I grin. His sweatshirt. Too bad it's not on my floor because he's in my bed.
I wipe the jizz off my stomach with a washcloth and then scrub my hands in the sink, pull on a pair of boxer briefs, and slide back underneath the covers, all while reliving the hour I spent with Garrett.
He picked me up on the corner (like the hooker I've become), and I jumped in the passenger side, rubbing my hands in front of the vents and shivering.
"Here," he said as he handed me a sweatshirt. "I already had it in hand when you mentioned how 'fucking freezing' it is tonight." I met his smile as I took the shirt from his hand and mumbled my thanks as I quickly pulled it over my head.
He winked at me. "No problem, E. Now where to?"
My cheeks reddened in embarrassment as I gave him directions just down the street and around the corner.
"Wait. This is it? You live here?" Garrett questioned, as he put his car into park in my driveway.
"Uh, yeah." I glanced at him sheepishly while opening my car door. "Um, thanks for the ride, man. See you 'round." My voice picked up speed on the last phrase, and I jumped out of the car.
"Whoa. No no noooo you don't. You did not call me for a ride when you live five minutes from downtown, and you are not going to get out of it without asking me inside."
"Oh. You want to come in? I mean, of course you can come in. I just thought, it's so late, and you were sleeping, and …" my voice trailed off as he got out of the car, so I shut my car door, and he followed me up the walk.
"Edward, I'm an Architectural Engineering major who lives in a 1995 cookie-cutter duplex south of town. I crave exactly the type of house you live in every day. I'm coming in." By that point, we had reached my front door, and as I fumbled with my keys, he leaned in closer, catching my eye. "And I expect a full tour."
Shit. I'm so screwed. I mean, this is what I wanted, right? I called him at essentially midnight on a Tuesday night. I think that classifies as a booty call, but the second he crossed the threshold, I panicked. What if my house isn't good enough? I barely know him. What if he absolutely hates Twilight Tartan? Or what if my house smells? Like, actually smells?
Garrett must have sensed my anxiety because he grabbed my forearm, pulling me into my own house, and said, "Come on. Show me around. Nothing is going to happen, Edward. I just want to see your place, okay?"
After about thirty minutes in which I rambled about original hardwoods, granite counters, and window dressings, I realized that Garrett had followed the entire thing, even throwing in his thoughts as I went, mostly about structure and maintaining the integrity of the original design. He was wearing these adorable black-rimmed glasses that I wanted to push up for him when they slid down his nose during his talking and gesturing. He literally got down on eye level with the floor and commented on how little settling my foundation was showing. It was really hard concentrating on what he was saying when he had his ass in the air with a hint of stark white briefs sticking out the top of his jeans.
Our goodbye had been awkward. I'm not sure what I expected, but he meant it when he said that nothing was going to happen. He thanked me for the tour, I thanked him for the ride, and he left as uneventfully as if he stopped by every night. The only thing I got by way of sentiment was another wink and an adorable "Why don't you keep it for awhile?" when I tried to return his sweatshirt. The same sweatshirt I then inhaled his scent from right before jacking off to visions of his face, his voice, and all the dirty things I wanted to do to his cute little tighty-whity wearing ass. Fuck.
ooOOoo
Wednesday morning, I wake up late. I have a full day of class, and I feel like shit. Not even this long, scalding shower can erase the fitful, short night full of nightmares I've had. I can't stop thinking about one in particular: I'm in a crowded nightclub dancing with Garrett. The music pulses all around us as we grind against each other. He grabs my chin in his hand and pulls my face up to look him in the eye, before slowly leaning in as if for a first kiss. Just as his lips meet my own, a long hand curls around my shoulder and seductively pulls me away into the crowd of lithe, writhing bodies.
What the fuck is that about? Obviously I want to kiss the boy. I want to do much more than kiss him. But why the sexy hand? Why all the sweaty, dancing bodies?
As I step out of the shower and dry off, I try to shake the memory from my head. I need coffee if I'm going to make it through this day.
I finish getting ready, grab my keys, phone, and messenger bag, and make my way quickly down the few blocks to the coffee shop.
When I enter the door with the bell tinkling overhead, I inhale deeply. Coffee. Heaven.
"E! It's 7:51 man. Running late? We thought we might miss out on your gorgeous face this mornin'." Jasper is practically yelling across the crowded store, and I feel my cheeks redden.
I make my way to the counter so I don't have to shout my response. "Hey man. Yeah, I almost overslept. Can I get the usual?"
"Almost ready for ya. You know Riley. He's always a step ahead of what you expect." Jasper winks at me with his signature smirk, then glances over at Riley, who is hard at work at the espresso machines.
"Iced caramel mach, extra shot, ready to rock." He slides the drink down the counter as I'm paying Jazz, but it isn't until I look his way that he actually looks at me. "You make it home okay Edward?"
"Yeah, of course." My blush returns (if it ever left my cheeks) as I think about my ride home from Garrett. Would Jasper and Riley care if they knew? It's not like they have any kind of claim on me. Right?
I'm trying to decide why I feel guilty about getting a ride from Garrett, when I should actually feel guilty about getting a blow job in a movie theater right before calling a guy I like, when Jasper interrupts my thoughts.
"Showin' the ol' college pride today babe? It's a … different look for you." He gestures toward my chest with a nod, and I look down at the sweatshirt spelling out MIZZOU — Garrett's shirt.
"Um, sure. I don't know. Chilly mornings aren't made for polos I guess." I meet his gaze and sense something there. Something off. He knows this isn't my shirt. Does he care?
"Well, stay warm then man. Will we see any more of you this week?" His question is laced with meaning, and I see Riley lean our way as if to catch my answer.
"Uh, yeah sure. I mean, I don't really have any plans. I have a lot of studying to do though. Midterms are next week and I haven't prepared much." I've been so busy mentally preparing for tests that I hadn't honestly given much thought to my next encounter with Jasper and Riley. But now that he brings it up, I feel myself stiffen in anticipation.
"Well, you just let us know if you need a study break. I'm sure we can come up with something to ease the stress." Jasper gives me one last smirk, his eyes glinting, and I nod, turning toward the door with my coffee. Maybe I can fit in a beer or two later in the week, I tell myself. Beer. Right.
ooOOoo
I'm on my way to class Thursday morning, wearing my favorite lavender polo, but I've got a black pea coat on as well. It's officially the beginning of winter, and I don't think I can wear Garrett's sweatshirt every day. I mean, I'd like to, but it doesn't really smell like him anymore.
Garrett. I have to admit that I'm walking slower than normal, looking around the crowds of students instead of staring at my feet. It has nothing to do with the fact that I'm hoping to run into him again like Tuesday. Nothing at all.
One part of my mind is making a list of how I'm going to tackle studying for each of next week's midterms, but as I approach the same A&S building entrance as Tuesday morning, another section of my brain tells me to pause and take one last glance around. I look at my watch before opening the door. 9:58. Guess Garrett has his usual coffee date today.
ooOOoo
My Sharpie scrapes across each note card as I meticulously write anthropology terms on one side and definitions on the other. I pause for a moment and inhale the inky scent. Awesome.
Here's the thing about me: I've never in my life had to study that hard to make good grades. Learning has always come naturally to me – I'm sure it's in my genes – and in high school, I blew off tests like they were nothing. However, now that I'm in college, I have a skeptical father to impress. I feel like this first round of tests is a chance for me to prove to him that I'm not just here passing time for a few years, but rather that I want to be the best I can be at my chosen career. Even if it's not as a physician, and even if it's just a measly gen ed course.
So here I sit, writing study cards alone at home on a Friday night. I'm actually pretty content with this. The methodical task is soothing in a way, and I know I'll have something tangible to show for my time when I'm finished.
Although, it would be nice to have someone else in the house. To hear footsteps down the hall rather than the ticking of the wall clock and the humming of the refrigerator. His warm shoulder brushing my own on the couch as he leans forward to turn down the music. Garrett's face flashes in my mind, and I can't help but wonder what he's doing, where he is, and if he's thinking about me too.
I glance at the clock. 8:33. I sigh. He has my number since I called him Tuesday, so the ball isn't entirely in my court. There was nothing beyond friendly about his visit Tuesday, and maybe that's all he wants. Friendship. Maybe. Maybe I imagined the flirty things he said and the lingering way he looked in my eyes. Maybe.
I'm sticking to my guns and not calling him. At least not tonight.
ooOOoo
Long time, no talk E…
I'm staring at my phone, trying to think of how to respond to the text from Riley. Frankly, I haven't been in the mood all week. Not since Tuesday night's public display, my time with Garrett, and the resulting two-minute whack job, have I been in the mood.
Yeah, sorry man. I've been studying a lot. What are you guys up to?
Just played ball at the rec. Sad u didn't show. Garrett seemed especially interested in ur whereabouts. ;)
I look at the time on my phone. 3:18 on Saturday. I actually have been studying a lot. I got up early and had no idea it was late afternoon already. My fingers type the words before I even realize what they are.
Cool. Plans tonight? I could use a study break.
ooOOoo
I wrap my mouth around Jasper's cock and take him all the way down while staring at Riley.
"Shit," Ri says, unzips his jeans and sticks a hand inside. "That looks amazing, E."
Riley is a man of few words. He's quiet and contemplative. But get him in a private room and turn him on a bit, and he'll tell you exactly what he wants.
"Suck him off. Jesus. You're making him so fucking hard. Fuck."
Jasper emits a few moans, and I feel him flex in my mouth. Somebody must like it when his boyfriend talks a little dirty because it's only a few more thrusts before he's coming, hot spurts shooting down my throat. I swallow hard and then soften my mouth some before letting him slide out gradually.
"Fuck, Edward. You could give Ri a run for his money with those skills." Jasper pulls his boxers back up, but sheds his jeans from the pool they've made around his ankles. Socks intact, I notice.
We started the evening at a bar a few hours ago, but it wasn't long before Jazz was hinting at going back to their place to 'hang out'. I knew it would be more than hanging out. Much more. But I was keyed up and stressed about classes, so I eagerly agreed and followed them to their apartment complex.
We barely made it inside and closed the door before I was on my knees in front of their couch, Jasper's dick in my mouth and Riley watching from my left.
I stand from my position on the floor, stretch my legs and back, and adjust the noticeably hard dick in my pants.
'Uh, I'm gonna grab a glass of water," I mumble before heading off to the kitchen.
"Don't go far, E. We're not done with your ass yet," Jazz calls after me.
I look at the clock on the microwave. 11:16 p.m. I have a feeling it's gonna be a long night.
ooOOoo
The next week flies by in a flurry of coffee, tests and flirting from both Garrett and the Jasper/Riley duo.
I caved on Tuesday after another uneventful morning of classes with no Garrett sightings and texted him a quick hello. Apparently, he had still been waiting on me to make the next move, because he responded brightly with a hello of his own and several questions about how my week was going.
We sent the odd text back and forth from there, nothing too serious, mostly wishes of good luck and sarcastic comments about a student we saw on campus or the shitty weather we'd been having. But when Friday came around, and I only had one test left on my plate, I decided to take another bold step.
Hey, you have plans tonight?
His reply came quickly, like he'd been waiting for me to ask all week.
Nah, just the usual.
And the usual is?
Beers and basketball on TV at Southside.
Southside?
You really should get out more, E. It's a sports bar on the south side of town. They never card. You wanna meet up?
I hesitate. Do I want meet up? Will his friends be there? Is this just a casual 'friend' thing to him? Does it even matter?
Sure, if I'm not imposing…
Never. You can meet my friends. It'll be cool. Pick you up at 8:00?
Sounds great. See you then.
Good luck on your last midterm. Oh, and wear something blue. It brings out the red in your hair.
He's noticed the red in my hair? The boy has noticed the red in my hair. I feel heat in my cheeks at the thought of Garrett looking at me long enough to observe something as subtle as the red hue to my hair. That was definitely flirting.
As I turn in my last midterm, I should be breathing a sigh of relief. Instead, I'm mentally running through the five Lacoste polos I own in shades of blue, trying to decide which one complements my hair the best.
ooOOoo
Garrett picks me up at 7:58 and we head straight to the bar, Southside. It really is a sports bar on the south side of town. How original.
I've gone with the polo in Kensington Blue. It must have been the right choice, because as we park, Garrett tells me it's perfect. I try to hide my grin as I get out of the car, but I'm pretty sure he notices.
He holds the door open for me, and to my great surprise, I feel his hand graze my lower back as we enter the building, almost as if steering me toward a specific table. The place is crowded, but not so much that I can't tell where he's silently telling me to go, and when I look up, bracing myself for curious eyes, I have to stifle my laughter.
Garrett's 'friends', the ones he was excited for me to meet, are all girls. Early-twenties (or more likely late-teens), well-groomed, girly girls. They wave him over instantly, and I turn to him with a smirk.
"Aww, Garrett. You didn't tell me you were such a ladies' man," I tease.
He simply shrugs and pulls up an extra bar stool to their table top, gesturing for me to sit.
"Hey girls. Ready to watch the game? By the way, this is Edward. Edward, meet … the girls."
I'm assaulted with a giggly singsong chorus of "Hi Edwaaaaard" and one by one they introduce themselves. There are six in total and I have no idea how I'll ever remember their names, so I try to look for some item or characteristic that stands out to me.
This is how the girls come to be known as Too Tan Tanya (orange skin – ick), Velvet Vicki (amazing black velvet knee high boots), Ill Fitting Irina (can you say muffin top?), Kissable Kate (hey, even a gay man can appreciate a good set of lips), Rich Bitch Rose (girl may have money but not class), and Always Alice. Apparently, she and Garrett go way back, but as I observe their interactions, it appears to have always been platonic. I can't quite put my finger on it.
We order a few beers from the waitress and Too Tan turns to Ill Fitting, speaking in a whisper and glancing my way. I try not to feel self-conscious but I don't have to wonder for long.
"So, you're Edward. Wow." Wow? Velvet Vicki has the conversational skills of a rock.
"Yep, that's me. Did you hear something incredibly interesting about me?"
"Not really." She smirks. "We just got sick of Garrett talking about you last week. Apparently, you have stunningly good looks. For a gay."
"For a gay?" Who the fuck is this bitch?
"Well, yeah. I mean, he's right – you're stunning – but it's not like I'll ever benefit from it. So, you know, whatever." Vicki turns back toward Irina and Tanya. I have a feeling that's about the only interaction I'll get from them tonight.
I breathe a sigh of relief and take a swig of the beer that's just come. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Garrett and he's … blushing. It's kind of cute. His cheeks have turned pink, and he's looking down at the table, playing with his coaster.
"I never said he was stunning. I mean, I may have mentioned that I met a guy that was good looking. So what?" Garrett looks at me shyly, from under his long lashes.
"Oh, right. You went on and on about him, man! Now shut the fuck up. The game's back on." Rich Bitch Rose must be way more into sports than I'll ever be. Her eyes are glued to the huge screen in front of us, and when someone gets in the way of our table, she yells at them to move it along.
I'm not the least bit interested in the game, so I move my bar stool a little closer to Garrett's and smile at Always. She's cute. Petite, dark hair, very fashionably dressed, and she's drinking something pink and covered in pineapple and cherries.
"Did they have to run to the store for that fruit?" I try out some witty conversation, crossing my fingers that she's a little more approachable than the others.
"Ha. Nah, I brought my own." For a split second, I don't realize she's kidding, but then she winks at me, and I grin. Just as I'm about to ask her what the drink is called, Garrett and Rose start cheering and high five each other.
"So, you met Garrett playing basketball, right? If that's true, why do you look like you don't give a shit about the game?" Alice asked.
"Probably because I don't." I laugh. "Basketball is fine as exercise, but I've never been big on watching. Too many other things I'd rather be doing, I guess."
"That's a bummer. Does Garrett know?" She leans toward me and lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Basketball is kind of his thing."
"I think he has a pretty good idea. It's not like I've been keeping it a secret for the whole week we've known each other."
"What secrets have you been keeping?" Garrett has just turned his stool back my direction and is looking me full in the eyes.
"Oh. Um. Nothing. No secrets," I reply, stuttering slightly.
"Edward was just telling me that he loathes basketball." Alice looks at me with teasing twinkling eyes. "He's planning his escape as we speak."
"Hey now," I protest, but Garrett interrupts me.
"Well, that's a secret I don't mind knowing. Hoops aren't for everyone. I'm just glad it wasn't something crazy."
Always Alice giggles. "I know right? Like, maybe he's a serial killer or a secret agent. Oh, or maybe he's in some secret kinky sex club."
They both chuckle and turn back to the game, but I look down at the table and try to act casual as I sip my beer.
Basketball continues, and even though he's immersed in the action, Garrett is very attentive. He checks on me every few minutes, touches my shoulder on his way to the bathroom, and even pays for our tab when we're ready to leave. It's nice. Sweet.
But I have a lingering pain in the pit of my stomach, and my head is swimming with thoughts and emotions. I should be excited, eager and hopeful about a potential relationship with him. So why do I feel like shit?
ooOOoo
The clock on Garrett's dashboard glows at me. 12:21 a.m.
"Your friends are nice. For straights." I grin and turn to Garrett, making sure he gets the joke.
"They are indeed. For girls too." We both laugh lightly as he pulls into my driveway, but then the car is silent again.
As I'm trying to decide if I'm supposed to ask him inside, Garrett speaks again.
"They really are great friends. Don't let their curiosity turn you off. They'll warm up to you."
"No, I get it, man. They're just looking out for their friend. It's understandable. That Alice, though. I don't think she needs any warming up." I grin, thinking of all her funny remarks, then frown at the thought of the one comment all night that I didn't want to remember.
"Yeah, that's Alice. I guess you could say she got the funny genes in the family." He turns the car off and reaches for his door handle. "Walk you up?"
I realize he's asking to walk me to the door, and this should probably make me nervous, but I'm still focused on his words. Family. Alice is his sister?
"Wait, Alice is your sister? Why didn't you say so?" I look at him with questioning eyes.
"Oh, yeah. I guess, maybe, I just figured you could tell? I don't know. We don't hide it or anything. It didn't come up. Besides, I thought you might have met her before. She's really good friends with Jazz."
He shrugs and gets out of the car, but his words sting like a slap, and I have to struggle to focus on opening my door and climbing out. The mention of Jasper and hidden truths - secrets, if you will - remind me of all the other things that didn't come up. Things that aren't actually being hidden, but aren't being told either. Knowing I'll be thinking about those things late into the night, I try to push them to the back of my mind until I'm in the house. Alone.
"She's pretty great, man, really. I always wanted a sibling," I tell him, as we walk side by side toward the door. "I had a good time. Thanks for letting me come along."
"Yeah, no problem. Glad you could meet my Friday crowd." Garrett gives me one last wink and leans in to do the awkward hand grasp, lean in, pat on the back half-hug thing I saw him do with the basketball guys. I'm caught by surprise at the gesture; it definitely means friends, while his earlier touches hinted at something more. I pretend I know what I'm doing, that I bro-hug my friends all the time, and pull him in to pat him roughly on the back. Just as I step away though, I feel sweet softness graze my neck very lightly. Lips. Garrett's lips.
ooOOoo
I'm bent over the water fountain, trying to simultaneously catch my breath and get a drink, when I feel a hard smack across my ass cheek.
"Shit!" I stand up and grab my butt, whirling around. "What the fuck?"
Oh. I turn and see Garrett lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and I see just a hint of happy trail down his lower abs. Damn.
"Dude. That burns." I give him a look somewhere between pouting and annoyed while rubbing my ass, but he just leans in close to my ear.
"I could rub that for you later, if you'd like." Garrett turns and bends over the fountain himself, but I can see the hint of a smirk on his lips. Those same lips that barely touched my neck last night. My cheeks burn at the thought, and I feel my cock stiffen.
Grandmothers. Baseball. Cold showers. Grandmothers. Baseball. Cold showers. The last thing I need is a boner in these gym shorts. I'm already baring my chest, and don't think I haven't noticed Jasper, Riley and Garrett all three ogling me.
Basketball is almost over, so I grab my tee shirt and keys off a bench, and turn around.
"You heading home?" Garrett has finished at the fountain and comes to grab his own keys and phone.
"Yeah, probably. I know midterms are over but I have a few projects to finish that are due before Thanksgiving break."
"Look at you, studyin' hard, E. I bet you could use some afternoon relaxation." Jasper is suddenly next to us, and he grins at me.
"Eh. I don't know. He seemed pretty relaxed last night." Garrett has moved a step closer to me, and I can't allow myself to think it's a move of protection. Especially not with Jazz looking like he's about to devour me on the spot.
I look between them both and find my voice. "Yeah, I had a few beers last night. Back to work today, I guess. It's cool." We all head toward the exit, and I turn in the direction of my house, shoulders hunched, face determined.
"All right, I can take a hint." Garrett lets out a short laugh, and I turn to him. "I'm parked the other way. I assume you don't want a ride. And you have my number, so … give me a call."
I want to ask him to come over. I really do. But I just can't bring myself to do it in front of Jasper and Riley. So, we do the awkward bro-hug from last night, but there are no lips this time. As we pull away, I make sure to look at him. Like, really look at him. There's nothing there in his eyes but happiness. Maybe a little hopefulness too.
He turns and jogs down the sidewalk, but I only allow my gaze to linger for a second before turning back the other way. As I do, I run right into Riley. Jasper is only a few feet behind him. They're waiting. I take a deep breath and start walking.
"See you later guys," I say, as I walk past.
"Talk to you soon, man." Riley turns toward their car, not pushing the issue, but J has other ideas.
"Aww, come on Eddie. Riley was just saying he wondered how you did on your tests. We really need to catch up. It's been what, a week? You sure you don't wanna chill for awhile?" He's talking, but all I hear is the underlying current. His offering of dirty, filthy sex.
I hesitate, but I already know what my answer will be. Despite the mountain of school work and the attraction I'm feeling for Garrett, I can't resist. I know how good it can be with them, and I suddenly crave it.
"Fine. You can come hang out for a few hours, I guess, but I've got to get some school work done. Maybe we can order some dinner or something."
"Edward, Edward. You know exactly what's on the dinner menu." Jasper winks, Riley blushes, and my dick gets hard as we all climb into the hippie wagon and head toward my place.
ooOOoo
We all enter the house, and I shut the front door behind me, while glancing at the clock. 4:13. Lots of time before dinner.
"Umm, here's the remote. You guys want a drink or something?" I try to play a good host.
"Sure. I'll take a Gatorade if you've got one."
"Me too, man. Blue if you've got it." Jasper flops down on the couch with the remote and flips through channels, settling on some Palladia performance of Led Zeppelin.
I turn to the kitchen and grab two orange Gatorades from the fridge, then return to the living room doorway and toss them both one.
"Sorry. Orange is all I've got. Umm. I'm gonna shower real quick." I take one look at Riley perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, then add a hasty, "Make yourselves at home," before walking down the hallway, peeling my shirt off as I go.
I toss the shirt and my socks in the hamper in my closet, then go in the bathroom and start the water running. It's times like this I move the bathroom renovation higher on my priority list. A large walk-in shower with multiple heads would feel amazing on my post-workout muscles, but I'll have to settle with the large claw-foot tub, single shower head and curtain strung on a rod. At least the tub is huge.
Just as I drop my shorts and boxer briefs, the door handle jiggles.
"How do I get in there?" I hear Jasper's laugh on the other side.
"It sticks. Lift up on the handle as you turn it." I realize too late that I'm entirely naked, and Jazz bursts into the small space with me.
"Well, aren't you all prepped and ready." He looks at me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, slowly, longingly, before making eye contact again and starting to take his own shirt off.
"What the …" I jump in the shower and pull the curtain before he can act on any ideas he may have, but after only a second the curtain flies back again, and he's in the shower with me.
"Move over, sweet thing. It's cold back here." My jaw drops as J reaches for my shampoo as if we shower together daily, but I quickly close it when he pushes past me and stands under the stream of water, washing and rinsing his hair. I guess he really does know how to make himself at home.
We take turns under the water, each washing our own hair, faces and bodies thoroughly, and just as I'm finishing up, I hear the door handle again.
"Hey. Let me in too!" Jasper jumps out of the shower, opens the door, pulls Riley inside, then gets right back in with me.
"It's fucking freezing out there. Move over again." Jasper edges me out of the way.
He's a shower hog. Like, the one person you never want to shower with again because they shower while you stand there freezing with a drip of water on your arm. That's Jasper. But when Riley joins us in the big tub, J's demeanor changes. There's not much room to move, but he finds a way to give a little more, pull Riley under the stream, squirt a blob of shampoo on his head for him to wash his hair. It's all very subtle, but very sweet. Until it turns sexy.
I'm getting ready to get out when I notice that Jasper is giving Riley a hand washing his body. He goes straight for the goods, stroking Riley's cock slowly but deliberately until he's hard and moaning. I'm mesmerized. I've only seen shower sex in porn and not very good porn at that. The sudsy water runs down Riley's chest and legs while Jasper makes use of the slippery body wash to pump his dick up and down. Up and down. It's fascinating for some reason, and I feel myself harden. Just as I've given up on ignoring the throbbing between my legs and reach down to touch myself, Jasper looks over at me and groans.
"Fuck. Just like that Edward. Stroke yourself like I'm stroking Riley. Shit. You're so hard," he pants and rubs Riley with more urgency.
Riley looks over and motions for me to move a little closer, so I let go of my dick and lean forward, careful not to topple us all over. He kisses me full and strong on the mouth, and I relax into his lips. The kisses are sweet and timid for a moment, then insistent and demanding, back and forth. Hard and soft. His moans become louder, and I know he must be close.
"Come, Riley. I want you to come. I want to see it on your face." I surprise myself with the words that fall from my lips, and with one final moan, Riley rides out his orgasm in Jasper's hand.
"Shit. That felt so good." He pauses to catch his breath, and I motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub.
"This thing's from like the 1880's. Porcelain." I want to bend and rap my knuckles on the tub's edge to show I'm confident it won't break, but Jasper is pulling me to him. He kisses me while Riley sits and almost growls.
"Do you know how hot it is to watch you kiss my Riley? Fuck, you two make a pretty pair. We missed you last week Edward. We really missed you. I need to fuck you. Been thinkin' about it all week."
With that, Jasper spins me around and places one of my hands on the wall and the other on the lip of the bathtub. He doesn't waste any time before plunging a finger into me, working and stretching.
"Shit. Oh God." I wasn't expecting the sudden movement, but it already feels amazing, and I realize that I definitely want this. I want them both. It feels so good when I'm with them. Satisfying. Fulfilling.
Jasper works his fingers in me while I moan and pant, and after several minutes, I'm practically begging for his cock.
"That's it, babe. Let go. What do you want?"
"I want you. Fucking me. Shit." I groan as he pumps his fingers just a bit harder.
As I'm pushing back against his hand, I sense motion at my side, then hear the door open and close, open and close.
"Here." Riley is back on the edge of the tub, dripping wet but turning off the water that's growing ever colder, and holding the bottle of lube and a condom from my nightstand. "I took a wild guess."
I thank him, but Jazz just grabs the condom, rips open the package, and rolls it on himself in a flurry of movement.
"Fuck. I can't wait to be inside you." He nearly growls as he opens the lube and drizzles some over his cock and my entrance, then works it in slowly. Too slowly.
"More. I need more," I groan, squirming against him. Jasper pumps in and out with more pressure, more conviction.
"Is that better?" He leans over my back and whispers in my ear.
"Yes. Fuck yes."
"Good. E? You might wanna hold on tight." He slams into me hard, and it feels so amazing. He fucks me for a few minutes, and we are both full of soft moans and grunts, when he suddenly becomes much more vocal.
"Oh fuck, Ri. Yes. Just like that." Ri?
"Shit. Your tongue is gonna make me come baby. Fuck. Oh God. Lick me. Fuck, your tongue in my ass feels so good. Yes! I'm coming! Unnnngh."
I realize what is happening as Jasper pulses inside me. Riley was licking him. Licking him there. Oh God. The thought of Riley's tongue combined with the sensation of Jasper's orgasm sends me over the edge, and I come all over the hand I didn't even realize I had wrapped around myself.
"Fuck me. What the fuck was that?" I'm still leaning on the wall and the edge of the tub for support as Jasper lets his dick slip from me and gently smacks me on the ass.
"It's called a rim job, E. You should get you one some time." Jasper and Riley both smirk at me, then climb out of the tub, grab towels from the bar and dry off.
I turn to the side and let my head fall back against the wall.
"Fucking hell. No. I meant that entire … thing. Shit. I guess I need a bigger shower," I say.
They both laugh as Riley pulls a fresh towel from the little shelf next to the sink and throws it my way. Jazz has taken up residence at my mirror with my hairbrush, so I dry off as I climb out of the tub and walk into the bedroom.
I grab a pair of underwear from my dresser drawer and call over my shoulder to tell Jasper and Riley to help themselves to whatever clothes they might need, before I wander into the kitchen.
I take a jug of orange juice from the fridge, unscrew the cap and stand there with the refrigerator door open, in just a pair of black briefs, drinking from the carton. I notice my phone blinking on the counter, so I reach over to see who's called or texted. Probably my mom.
Instead there's a single text message from about ten minutes ago – while I was being fucked in my shower.
Hope the projects are going well. Wish we could have hung out instead. Call me sometime.
Garrett.
ooOOoo
Very IMPORTANT notes:
I'm doing a JPOV outtake of Chapter 3 for the Fandom Fights Tsunami compilation. It's pretty much all smut, but we learn a little about Jasper and Riley along the way. I'll remind you again I'm sure but you should go ahead and go donate and check out the list of authors way cooler than me.
Twinklings have asked me to do a o/s for Fuck Me Fridays in May. I'm totally flattered but I have no idea what to write. If you have a prompt, pic, idea you think I'd be good at, let me know. Please remember, I've never written vagina. JS
I put links to a bunch of places from Hard on my profile. They're not that interesting but it gives you a visual of my old stomping grounds at least.
Lacoste original men's polos come in 32 different colors, 8 of which I would classify as blue.