The Climax
# The Cab Ride – Seduction on Wheels
The cab cut through the rain-slick streets of London, headlights smearing gold across wet asphalt. The partition was up; the driver silent behind tinted glass. Daniel sat close—thigh pressed to Nick’s, head lolling against the seat as if the dizziness hadn’t quite passed. His suit jacket was open, shirt collar undone further, the silver chain glinting every time a streetlamp flashed by. He smelled like cedar, tequila, and faint sweat—intoxicating in the confined space.
Nick stared out the window, jaw tight, phone dark in his lap. 11:42 PM. Still time. He’d get Daniel settled on the sofa, crash in bed with Charlie by midnight. Easy.
Daniel shifted, letting his head drop sideways onto Nick’s shoulder. “You’re tense,” he murmured, voice slurred just enough to sell the drunk act. “Relax. I’m safe with you.”
Nick exhaled through his nose. “Just making sure you don’t pass out in the back of a cab.”
Daniel’s hand found Nick’s knee—slow, deliberate. Fingers spread, thumb circling the kneecap in lazy spirals. “You’re so good at taking care of people.” His voice dropped lower, velvet-edged. “Makes me wonder what else you’re good at.”
Nick’s thigh tensed under the touch. “Daniel—”
“Shh.” Daniel lifted his head, turning to face him. Their faces were inches apart now; breath mingling in the dim cab. “I know you’re thinking about Charlie. I get it. But right now… it’s just us. And I’m a mess. Let me thank you properly.”
Nick swallowed. “Thank me by sobering up on my couch. That’s it.”
Daniel’s lips curved—slow, predatory. His hand slid higher, palm flat against the inside of Nick’s thigh, inching toward the growing heat there. “You’re hard,” he whispered, delighted. “Been hard since the bathroom, haven’t you? Watching me get kissed… seeing how easy it is for someone to want me.”
Nick’s breath hitched. “Stop.”
But he didn’t push the hand away.
Daniel leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Nick’s ear. “Unblock me on IG first. Please. I deleted the stories. Swear. Just… let me back in. I want you to see me again. The real me.”
Nick’s phone was already in his hand—muscle memory, or something darker. He opened Instagram, found @daniel\_delavega, thumb hovering over the block button. Daniel watched, eyes dark and pleading.
“Please, Nick,” Daniel breathed, lips grazing Nick’s jaw now. “I need to know you’re not shutting me out completely.”
Nick’s thumb moved. Unblocked.
Daniel exhaled like he’d been given oxygen. “Thank you.” His hand rewarded him—cupping Nick through the tux trousers, squeezing gently. Nick groaned low, hips jerking up involuntarily.
“Daniel—fuck, no—”
“Yes,” Daniel countered softly. He palmed him again, firmer, feeling the thick outline harden fully. “Look at you. So big. Been thinking about this since the party. Since I licked your armpit and you shuddered like you were coming apart.”
Nick’s head fell back against the seat. “We can’t. Charlie—”
“Is asleep. Safe. And I’m right here.” Daniel’s fingers found the zipper—slow pull, deliberate. “Let me take care of you. Just once. No one has to know.”
Nick’s hand shot out—grabbing Daniel’s wrist. “No.”
Daniel didn’t fight. He just looked up through his lashes—pretty, pleading, wrecked. “Please. I’m so fucking hard for you. Let me taste you. I’ll make it so good. I promise.”
Nick’s grip loosened. Daniel took the opening—freeing Nick’s cock in one smooth motion. Thick, veined, flushed dark, leaking at the tip. Daniel moaned at the sight, low and hungry.
“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered.
Then he bent.
Nick’s protest died in his throat as wet heat enveloped him—Daniel’s mouth hot, tight, tongue swirling around the head like he’d been starving for it. Nick’s hand flew to Daniel’s hair—instinct to pull him off, but fingers tangled instead, holding him there.
Daniel hummed approval, the vibration shooting straight to Nick’s balls. He took him deeper—slow, deliberate, throat relaxing to swallow around the thick length. One hand stroked what his mouth couldn’t reach; the other cupped Nick’s balls, rolling them gently.
“Fuck—Daniel—” Nick’s hips bucked, shallow thrusts he couldn’t stop. The cab rocked gently with the motion. Rain drummed harder on the roof.
Daniel pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny. “Taste so good,” he rasped. “Been dreaming about this. Your cock in my throat. Come for me, Nick. Let go.”
He dove back down—faster now, head bobbing, cheeks hollowing. Nick’s control snapped. He fucked up into that perfect wet heat—once, twice—then came hard, groaning Daniel’s name low and broken. Daniel swallowed every drop, milking him through it until Nick was shaking, oversensitive.
Daniel sat up slowly, licking his lips, eyes glassy with triumph. “See? Wasn’t so bad.”
Nick panted, cock softening against his thigh, guilt crashing in like cold water. “We shouldn’t have—”
Daniel kissed him—soft, tasting of come and sin. “Shh. Just a thank you. No one knows.”
The cab slowed. Their building.
Nick zipped up, hands trembling. Daniel fixed his hair, smile lazy and satisfied.
\*\*The Flat – 12:32 AM\*\*
Charlie was asleep in their bed—curled on his side, breathing slow, oblivious. Nick helped Daniel inside—arm around his waist, still playing the dizzy card. Daniel leaned heavily, head on Nick’s shoulder, murmuring thanks.
Nick settled him on the sofa—pillows, blanket, glass of water on the table. “Sleep it off. I’ll check on you in the morning.”
Daniel caught his wrist as he turned to leave. “Stay a minute? Just till the room stops spinning.”
Nick hesitated—then sat on the edge of the sofa. Mistake.
Daniel surged up—straddling him in one fluid motion, knees bracketing Nick’s hips. “You’re still hard,” he whispered, grinding down. Nick’s cock—traitor—twitched back to life under the friction.
“Daniel—stop—”
But Daniel kissed him—deep, filthy, tongue sliding in. Nick groaned into it, hands gripping Daniel’s hips despite himself. Daniel rocked slowly, deliberately, whispering against his mouth: “Let me finish what I started in the cab. Please. I need it.”
Nick’s head fell back. “We can’t—”
Daniel was already sliding down—kneeling between Nick’s spread thighs, tugging trousers open again. Nick’s cock sprang free—still slick from earlier, hardening fast.
Daniel took him in hand—slow strokes, thumb circling the head. “So pretty when you’re conflicted.” Then he swallowed him again—deeper this time, throat working, nose brushing Nick’s pubes.
Nick’s hands fisted the blanket. “Fuck—Daniel—”
He tried to be quiet. Tried.
\*\*12:45 AM – Charlie wakes\*\*
Charlie stirred—bladder full, throat dry. He padded barefoot to the bedroom door, cracking it open.
The living room was dark except for the faint streetlight filtering through curtains. The sofa faced away from the bedroom—backrest hiding everything below the shoulders. All Charlie could see was Nick’s head tipped back, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, the other buried somewhere out of sight. Slow, rhythmic movements. Soft, wet sounds.
Charlie froze.
He thought—\*Nick’s jerking off. Or using the fleshlight I got him last month. Late night, couldn’t wait.\*
A small smile tugged at his lips. Cute. Hot, even.
Then Nick groaned—low, wrecked—and the name slipped out:
“Daniel…”
Charlie’s smile vanished.
He stepped closer—silent on bare feet—heart slamming.
From this angle, still mostly hidden. But then Daniel rose—slow, graceful—hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes locked on Nick’s. He climbed into Nick’s lap, straddling him again, hands framing Nick’s face.
They kissed—deep, desperate, Daniel grinding down, Nick’s hands gripping his ass through trousers.
Charlie stood in the doorway shadow—frozen, unseen.
Watching his boyfriend make out with Daniel Dela Vega on their sofa at 12:45 AM.
The room spun.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just watched.
And something inside him cracked clean in half.
\--×-×--
# Charlie's POV – Shattered in the Shadows
I stood there in the doorway, the world tilting like I’d been punched. My heart slammed against my ribs—hard, erratic, like it might burst out. The living room was dim, the sofa’s backrest a barrier that hid everything below their waists, but I could see enough: Nick’s head tipped back, eyes half-closed in ecstasy, mouth parted on a gasp; Daniel rising like a shadow, straddling him, their faces crashing together in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. Daniel’s hands cupped Nick’s jaw, possessive, while Nick’s fingers dug into Daniel’s hips—pulling him closer, not pushing away.
My stomach dropped. Bile rose. But under it—god help me—heat. A twisted, aching heat that made my cock twitch in my boxers. \*This isn’t real. Wake up.\* But it was. And I couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. Could only watch, breath shallow, as Daniel ground down into Nick’s lap, their bodies rocking in a rhythm that made soft, obscene sounds echo in the quiet flat.
Daniel broke the kiss, lips trailing to Nick’s ear. “You want me,” he whispered—loud enough for me to hear, voice rough and teasing. “Admit it. Been staring at me all night. Even with Charlie there.”
Nick groaned, hands sliding up Daniel’s back under his shirt. “Daniel—stop. This is wrong. I love Charlie. We can’t—”
Daniel laughed low, filthy—rolling his hips harder, making Nick buck up. “You love Charlie? Then why are you so hard for me? Why’d you let me suck you off in the cab? Why bring me home?”
Nick’s face twisted—guilt, lust, surrender. “Fuck—you’re too good. Your mouth… god, Daniel, you’re killing me.”
I leaned against the doorframe, legs weak. My hand—traitor—slid down my stomach, into my boxers. I was hard. Achingly hard. Shame burned, but I couldn’t stop. Fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking slow as I watched Daniel peel Nick’s tux shirt open—buttons popping—one by one. Exposing that broad chest I knew so well: pecs heaving, nipples hard, sweat glistening under the faint light.
Daniel licked a stripe up Nick’s sternum—slow, flat tongue—tasting salt. “Every part of you,” he murmured, voice dripping sex. “Gonna worship it all.” His mouth latched onto a nipple—sucking hard, teeth grazing—while his hand dipped lower, out of sight. Nick arched, a broken moan escaping.
“Daniel—please—”
Daniel moved to the other nipple, then lower—kissing abs, tongue dipping into the navel. “Tell me to stop,” he teased, but his hands were busy—tugging Nick’s trousers down further, freeing that thick cock I loved. Hard again, slick from earlier. Daniel nuzzled it—nose brushing the shaft—then licked from base to tip, slow and obscene.
Nick’s hand tangled in Daniel’s curls. “I… I can’t. Feels too good.”
I stroked faster—thumb circling my head, pre-come slicking the way. My breaths came short, quiet. \*Why am I doing this?\* But the heat built, watching Daniel devour Nick—licking balls, sucking them gently, then back up the shaft, tongue swirling.
Daniel stood suddenly—shedding his own clothes in fluid motions. Shirt off, revealing that lean, toned body: abs rippling, V-lines sharp, cock hard and curving up. He shucked trousers and boxers—ass firm, thighs flexing. Then he turned, bending slightly—teasing his hole against Nick’s cockhead. “Feel that? Tight for you. Hot. Been wanting this big dick inside me.”
Nick’s eyes glazed. “Daniel—no—we shouldn’t—”
Daniel sank down a fraction—hole clenching around the tip, teasing, not taking. “Who’s hotter tonight? Charlie in his suit? Or me—begging for it?”
Nick’s hips jerked up. “You—fuck, Daniel. You. My eyes were on you all night. Even with Charlie there. The way you moved… god, I couldn’t stop looking.”
That confession hit like a knife. Twisted deeper. My hand flew faster—fist pumping, balls tightening. Heat coiled low, unbearable.
Daniel grinned—victorious—and pushed down more, hole stretching around Nick’s head. “Say it again. Who do you want right now?”
“You,” Nick gasped. “Want you so bad.”
I came—hard, sudden—spilling over my hand, knees buckling. A gasp escaped—louder than I meant. My elbow hit the side table—knocking a vase. It teetered, crashed to the floor with a shatter.
Nick’s head snapped up. “What the—?”
Daniel froze, half-seated on Nick’s cock. “Charlie?”
Nick shoved Daniel off—panic in his eyes. “Fuck—Charlie’s asleep. Must be the wind or something.”
Daniel glanced toward the door—eyes narrowing—but I’d already ducked back, heart racing. I wiped my hand on my boxers, slipped into bed—curling up, pretending sleep. Cum cooling sticky on my skin. Shame and hurt warred with the aftershocks.
Out there, a beat of silence. Then Nick’s voice—rough, resigned. “Fuck it. I’ll breed you tonight. Get back here.”
Daniel laughed—low, triumphant. “Yes, sir.”
The sounds started—wet, filthy. Daniel moaning as Nick pushed in deep. “So big—filling me up—”
Nick’s growl: “Tight as fuck. Take it.”
I lay there—eyes squeezed shut, ears straining. Moans built—skin slapping, Daniel’s gasps: “Harder—breed me, Nick. Fill me like Charlie can’t.”
Humiliation burned. Nick’s grunts: “God—your ass is perfect. Squeezing me so good.”
They fucked hard—Daniel riding, then Nick flipping him, pounding from behind. Daniel’s taunts: “Bet Charlie never makes you this hard. Admit it—I’m better.”
Nick’s broken yeses: “Yeah—fuck, yeah. Don’t stop.”
I listened to it all—moans echoing, bed (sofa) creaking, the wet slide of bodies. Climaxes—Daniel first, crying out; Nick roaring as he came inside, breeding deep.
Quiet after. Murmurs. Daniel: “Stay with me.”
Nick: “Can’t. Charlie.”
Footsteps. The bedroom door creaked. Nick slid into bed—spooning me from behind, arm heavy over my waist. His breath on my neck—smelling of sweat and sex.
Morning light filtered in. I woke—feigning it—to Nick’s face close, eyes soft.
“Hi,” he whispered, like always.
I smiled—hollow. “Hi.”
But inside, everything shattered.
