Recap: I’d walked into Jason’s room...yeah, my ex and somehow ended up on my knees. One thing led to another, and I had his cock back in my mouth like no time had passed. It was angry and quiet and stupidly hot. We didn’t finish… but it’s not over.
I was on my knees, hand still wrapped around my ex's dick, skin to skin. He hadn’t said a word since letting it out, just watched me, like the silence might make me flinch first. His cock twitched against my palm, already hard, already leaking. And of course it looked exactly how I remembered. Trimmed close. Uncut. Thick, curved, stupidly tempting. He always used to do that for me....the trimming. Said he didn’t want to hear me complain about strand of hair in my mouth again.
He let out a breath....sharp, like he’d been waiting for it. His fingers found the back of my head, light at first, threading through my hair. The kind of touch that was way too familiar. He didn’t push, didn’t guide. Just held.
“I fucking knew you’d still want it,” he said. “All that talk.”
I leaned in, let my lips brush along the base first, the way I always used to...tongue sneaking out for just a taste. He groaned, low and satisfied. His cock twitched again in my grip.
“I missed your mouth,” he said, voice closer to a confession than a tease.
I didn’t answer. I just opened up and took him in. The first few inches slid across my tongue easy, like my body remembered every angle, like i remember how the veins on his cock felt against my tongue..
His hand tightened a little, but he still didn’t move. Just let me set the pace. I pulled him deeper. Let my lips stretch around him, let my jaw ache a little. The heat of him filled my mouth, and fuck, it was stupid how good it felt.
He groaned again. “Still so fucking good at this.”
I pulled back just enough to smirk. “Yeah? Bet your brother thinks so too.”
That hit him like a jab. His fingers twitched in my hair, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re such a bitch,” he muttered. “A fucking brat.”
I smiled around the head of his cock, then sank back down slow, eyes on his. He didn’t look away. I bobbed my head, stroked the base with one hand, spit sliding down to meet my fingers. He tasted like sweat and salt and memory.
“Aaah.. babyyy…” he breathed.
Then his hands were on me, under my arms, lifting me like I weighed nothing. I barely had time to find my balance before his mouth crashed into mine. Hot. Bruising. Starved. I clutched at his shoulders as his tongue forced its way in, sloppy and hungry like he was trying to reclaim something that had been his.
I missed that mouth. I fucking missed it.
His hands ran up my back, down my sides, gripping everything like he needed it in his fists. My underwear was already halfway down my thighs, and his sweats were bunched at his ankles, long forgotten. We stumbled backward, mouths still locked, teeth scraping. His fingers dug into my hips.
Clothes came off between kisses; his shorts yanked over his ankles, my underwear peeled the rest of the way off. His mouth never stayed in one place. He kissed my jaw, my throat, bit at my collarbone like he wanted to leave marks. I clawed at his back, fingertips sliding down the dip of his spine. His cock bumped against mine, hard and slick, our skin hot and sweaty already.
“God, you taste the fucking same,” he muttered, tongue tracing the curve of my ear. “I could live off your mouth.”
We collapsed onto the bed like it had pulled us in, Jason on top, grinding down hard. He kissed me until I couldn’t breathe, fingers tangled in my hair, hips rolling like he couldn’t help it. My legs fell open automatically, thighs framing his hips, and he groaned at the feel of me under him.
Then suddenly, he pulled back.
He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands spreading my thighs wide. My heart pounded like it was about to explode. He grabbed my cock and licked it once...slow, like he was savoring it. Then again, wetter, his tongue teasing up the underside before he took me into his mouth.
I gasped.
He sucked like he meant it. Deep, eager pulls that made my whole spine twitch. His hand worked the base, mouth sloppier with every pass. I stared down at him, his dark hair between my legs, jaw flexing, lips stretched tight around me. Every few strokes he’d let me slip free just to spit on it, then suck me back down, slurping like he was drunk on it.
My head fell back. I groaned. “aaah jase.. jassooon.. fuccck,”
He hummed like he liked that, like he wanted to make me say his name again. He sucked harder, deeper, until I was losing track of everything. My hand slid into his hair, fingers curling tight.
“You’re so good at this,” I breathed. “Still fucking perfect.”
Jason pulled off with a wet gasp, spit glistening down his chin. His voice was wrecked when he spoke. He didn’t say anything else. Just climbed back on top of me, kissed me again like he needed to. His cock was hot against my thigh, leaking, twitching, dragging across my skin as he rutted into me slow. We weren’t rushing now. It wasn’t about teasing anymore. Just two bodies moving like they’d done this a hundred times and yeah, we had.
I wrapped a hand around him, felt him throb in my fist. His breath hitched against my cheek. He kept moving, grinding into me like he couldn’t stop, and I stroked him through it, our mouths barely separating. His thrusts started stuttering. I knew that rhythm.
"Fuck...Ryan.,." he groaned, and I didn’t stop until he was pulsing in my hand, thick ropes of cum streaking my stomach. He collapsed halfway on top of me, hips jerking with every spasm, biting down on my shoulder to muffle the sound.
I was close. So fucking close.
He looked up, breathless, lips swollen. “C’mon. You next.”
His fingers curled around my cock, wet and messy from his mouth earlier. He stroked me slow, sloppy, eyes locked on mine. I bucked into it once, twice and then I came hard across his chest, our skin slick with sweat and spit and cum.
We didn’t speak after that. Didn’t need to.
He slid down beside me, arm draped over my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. I stayed there, staring at the ceiling, heart still thudding, body still twitching from aftershocks.
Maybe I should’ve gotten up. Gotten dressed. Left.
Instead, I let my eyes fall closed.
And just like that, I fell asleep next to the same boy who had dumped me weeks ago.
────୨ৎ────
I woke up alone.
The sheets smelled like sweat and regret. Jason was gone. Not just out of the room...gone gone. No note. No water glass on the nightstand. Just a slightly-dented pillow and the dull ache of being used like a fleshlight.
I stared at the ceiling for a second, trying not to think. That was the whole problem. Every time I started thinking, I ended up doing something stupid. Like going to my ex’s room in the middle of the night. Like letting him kiss me. Like sucking his dick.
I rolled onto my side and grabbed my phone from the edge of the mattress. I’d texted him. Just a casual, harmless, stupid thing.
Last night was… something. I missed this.
Read.
No reply.
Cool. Classic.
I sat up, rubbed the sleep from my face, and winced. My back was sore, my jaw was sore, my self-respect was...well, MIA. But mostly, I felt like a fucking idiot. I should’ve known better. This wasn’t new. Jason was great at showing up for the fuck and disappearing before the consequences. That used to hurt. Now it just felt predictable.
I pulled on my underwear, tugged them up over my sore thighs, and stood there for a second, blinking blearily at the room. The sheets were still rumpled from last night. My mouth tasted like sweat and guilt. I rubbed my face and let out a breath.
Then it hit me.
Fuck. I was supposed to sneak back into Drew’s bed.
That had been the whole plan or at least the half-thought-through excuse to make it look like I’d been there all night. Drew had passed out like a rock, and I figured if I could slip back in before he woke up, the lie would hold.
Except I’d overslept.
Hard.
My heart jumped. I yanked on my underwear and quietly cracked open Jason’s door. The hallway was quiet. Still early, probably. If I moved fast, maybe I could play it off.
I padded down the hall and turned into Drew’s room...
Empty.
The bed was untouched. Blankets still half-kicked down where I’d left them hours ago. And from the sound of it, the shower was running.
Shit.
Too late.
I hesitated in the doorway for a second, then stepped inside. No time to overthink it. I grabbed my T-shirt and jeans from the floor and quickly started getting dressed. I was halfway through buttoning my jeans when I heard the shower stop. My heart kicked up a notch.
Fuck.
I just stayed standing near the door, tugging my t-shirt down, trying not to look like someone who’d just spent the night blowing his ex down the hall.
Drew walked out a second later, towel slung low on his hips, chest still damp and glistening, hair pushed back from his face. His bulge was front and center, hanging thick....clearly not hard, but still swinging heavy like he knew I was gonna look. Drew wasn’t a grower. He was just built like that.
He smirked when he saw me. “Woke up early? Where were you?”
I blinked. “Oh, uh… I was on the couch. Couldn’t sleep. Went for a little walk.”
I was clearly lying. I was still doing up my jeans. One side of the button still loose. He didn’t clock it, or maybe he just didn’t care.
He tilted his head, smiling. “Shame. You couldn’t resist sleeping next to me, huh? Scared you’d get addicted to my dick?”
I snorted, straightening up. “Not really. I thought you were the one who couldn’t keep your mouth off my ass.”
That got a laugh out of him. He grabbed a shirt off the back of his chair and wiped at his neck, still damp. “Okay, you got me there.”
Then he looked at me, grin easy. “Would’ve loved some morning head, but I’m running late. Gotta get to the gym. Also need to smooth things over with Julian after last night.”
That made me freeze just a second too long. “Julian.. Fuck yes..”
“Yeah,” Drew said, casually. “I talked to him this morning. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna say anything. Apologized for walking in on… you know. Our little scene. But I still gotta have a chat.”
I swallowed. My brain buzzed.
Drew kept going, completely unfazed. “Said he’ll keep it quiet. I’ll probably give him a raise or something. Fuck.”
He reached for his keys. “Oh, and your car? Julian called the service guys...should be fixed today.”
I nodded. “That’s… really nice of you. Thanks.”
“Course.” He looked me over once more, smirk still lingering. “I’ll drop you off now, yeah? You coming in tonight? Chest day?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He slapped my ass as I walked past. “Good. Might even spot you. Real close.”
And just like that, we were out the door.
────୨ৎ────
Drew dropped me off at the gym entrance, one hand still lazily on the wheel as I grabbed my bag.
“Thanks for the ride, man,” I said, trying to sound casual. My stomach was still in knots. I was so damn glad he hadn’t found out about me and Jason last night. If he knew what I’d done just a few doors down from his bed, I wasn’t sure I’d still be sitting here.
Drew just grinned. “You haven’t even ridden me yet.”
He laughed, winked, and peeled off down the street like it was nothing.
I stood there for a second, heat rushing to my face, then turned and headed inside.
────୨ৎ────
Later that day, I checked my phone again.
Still nothing from Jason.
I’d texted him again that morning...just a simple, You good? and watched the read receipts say "Read". But no reply. No emoji. Not even a thumbs up.
Ghosted. Again.
And that was the thing with him. It was always silence when I needed him to talk, and paragraphs when he wanted in my pants. Communication was half the reason we broke up in the first place. That, and the fact that he couldn’t handle anyone asking him to be emotionally available for longer than five minutes.
But when it was time to fuck me? Oh, then he remembered how to hit send.
────୨ৎ────
By the time the sun went down, I was back at the gym. I’d told Drew I’d be here for chest day, and despite everything, I needed the burn. Needed to clear my head.
Julian was at the reception desk when I walked in. He gave me a polite smile.
I nodded back, quick, but kept moving. Still embarrassed. Still thinking about how he’d walked in on me with Drew’s cock halfway down my throat. He hadn’t said anything since, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.
I hit the floor and started warming up...basic pushups, some light flys. Tried to get my blood pumping and brain to shut up.
Drew was already there, spotting some girl doing squats in leggings so tight they looked painted on. He was being professional, mostly. But his hands were definitely a little lower than they needed to be. His usual smirk was in full effect.
I rolled my eyes and laid down on the flat bench for my first set of chest press. Two sets in, and I was finally finding a rhythm. My triceps were shaking a little, that good ache kicking in. Then I saw Drew walking over. He looked pumped already, T-shirt damp at the collar, arms full and vascular.
“You can go heavier,” he said casually, not even a question. He started racking extra fives on each side without waiting for my answer. “Come on, you’re not a newbie anymore.”
I gave him a look, breath still catching. “I was pacing myself.”
“Pace faster,” he grinned.
Third set in, he was hovering above me, spotting like a pro...hands just beneath the bar, but his eyes were fixed on my chest, my form, my face. He nodded, told me to give him two more.
I pushed through the burn, racked the bar with a grunt.
Then I felt him lean down. Voice low, right near my ear.
"I know it’s chest day,” he murmured. “But wouldn’t hurt to work your back too.”
I turned my head slightly, confused.
He smirked. “Yeah. You know what I mean.”
He walked off before I could say anything, towel tossed over his shoulder like nothing had happened.
And I just lay there for a second, heart pounding harder than it had during the set.
Was Drew talking about… fucking me?
Tonight?
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