Broken
Nico lounged back in the kitchen chair, feeling smug. Henry and his mum have barely been gone an hour and already he's had his dad bent over the kitchen counter and had popped that virgin arse.
Reeling in the afterglow. He sat at the kitchen table with one of Jason's cigars between his lips. Blowing smoke into the air as he watch Jason try to come to terms with his new self.
The house was quiet, a little too quiet.
Jason stood near the kitchen counter, one hand braced against the marble as he tried to steady his breathing. His shirt was half-buttoned, his belt still hanging loose where he’d rushed to pull himself back together. Everything about him felt wrong. Disordered, exposed, shaken open in ways he didn’t know how to fix.
Behind him, Nico sat comfortably at the table like he owned the room. One ankle crossed over the opposite knee, cigar balanced between his fingers, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. Completely relaxed. Completely satisfied with himself.
Jason hated how calm he looked. Hated how young he looked. The age difference hit him harder now that the adrenaline was fading. Nico wasn’t just younger than him—he was his son’s best friend. A kid who should’ve been hanging around the house playing video games downstairs, not sitting in his kitchen afterward like a cocky little punk
Jason rubbed a hand over his face hard enough to hurt. What the hell had he done?
He could already hear the voice that had ruled most of his life rising in his head: husband, father, provider, leader. The man who kept order in his home. The man people respected. The man who always had control of himself.
And now? Now he couldn’t even look Nico directly in the eye.
Because Nico had seen him unravel completely. Seen him weak. Desperate. Seen him surrender parts of himself Jason had spent decades trying to bury. Jason swallowed hard. His stomach twisted with guilt so sharp it almost felt physical.
He thought about his wife and son driving to his mother in laws. Family photos hanging in the hallway. Church on Sundays. The version of himself everyone believed in.
Then his mind betrayed him immediately, dragging him right back to the feeling of Nico’s hands on him, Nico’s voice in his ear, the unbearable intensity of it all.
That was the part Jason couldn’t understand.
The guilt should’ve drowned everything else out. It should’ve disgusted him enough to shut this down immediately. But underneath the shame, underneath the panic, there was still heat sitting low in his chest. Still the memory of pleasure so intense it scared him.
Nothing with his wife had felt like that in years. Maybe ever. And that realization terrified him more than anything else.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” Nico said casually. Jason stiffened immediately.
“I’m serious,” Jason muttered without turning around. “This can’t happen again.”
Nico gave a quiet laugh, slow and knowing. “You’ve already said that, and yet here we are.”
Jason closed his eyes. That only made it worse. Because Nico was right. Every line Jason drew seemed to disappear the second Nico touched him.
He hated that. Hated how quickly his body reacted around him. Hated the way Nico seemed able to pull things out of him with almost no effort at all. Anger. Lust. Humiliation. Need, worst of all, and Nico knew it.
Jason finally turned enough to glance at him, and immediately regretted it. Nico looked maddeningly comfortable—shirt open, posture loose, smoke drifting from one of his cigars while he watched Jason like he already knew exactly what was going to happen next. Like this wasn’t over.
Nico sat there lazily in the chair, smoke curled around him while he watched Jason with that same smug confidence that always got under his skin. There was something infuriatingly magnetic about him, young, reckless, arrogant. Everything Jason had spent his life teaching himself to be.
He didn’t know what to do anymore. His instinct screamed at him to end this now before it destroyed everything.
“You should go home,” Jason said, though the words lacked conviction even to his own ears.
Nico studied him for a second before smirking faintly. “You want me gone?”
Jason opened his mouth. Nothing came out. That was the real problem.
Nico stood slowly, taking his time, and Jason immediately felt the shift in the room again—that same pressure, that same dangerous pull settling back into place between them. “You keep trying to convince yourself this was a mistake,” Nico said quietly. “But mistakes aren’t usually the thing people think about doing again afterward.”
Jason’s jaw tightened. His mind reeled, torn between anger, shame, and something far more dangerous. All he could think was: What would people say if they knew? If anyone ever found out about this—about him—the life he had built would crack apart overnight. Church friends. Neighbors. His wife. Henry. Every carefully constructed piece of himself suddenly felt fragile..And yet, part of him still desperately wanted Nico.
Nico sensed the tension immediately. He could see Jason fighting himself—caught between desire and the man he believed he was supposed to be.
Stepping closer, Nico slowly ran a hand across Jason’s groin before speaking softly.
“I can see you struggling,” he murmured. “Caught between what you want and what you think is right. That’s a lot for a guy like you, isn’t it? Tough, controlled, alpha-male Jason… giving in to some cocky little Latino, half his age.”
His hand lingered there deliberately.
“Losing control. Letting your son’s best friend get inside your head.” Nico tilted his head slightly. “That’s what’s really bothering you, isn’t it?”
Jason stared at him, visibly shaken by how accurately Nico had put words to the chaos in his head.
“This isn’t me,” Jason said finally, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. “I’m not who you think I am. This was just… a moment. A mistake.”
“I get that,” Nico replied calmly. “But I can also feel how badly you don’t want me to walk away.”
Jason’s jaw tightened.
“For a man who likes control as much as you do,” Nico continued, “you’re not really taking charge right now. You could throw me out if you wanted. You could end this.”
He leaned in slightly.
“But something’s stopping you.”
Jason frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Nico removed the cigar from his lips and held it out to him.
“Take it,” he said. “Remind yourself what kind of man you are.”
Jason hesitated before finally taking it. He drew in a deep inhale, letting the smoke fill his mouth before exhaling slowly. Then he did it again, trying not to focus on the lingering taste Nico had left behind on the cigar.
Almost immediately, Nico saw the shift. Jason’s shoulders loosened slightly. Some of the panic left his face. The familiar confidence—the version of himself he recognized—started creeping back in.
Nico smiled faintly. For the first time in several minutes, Jason almost looked steady again.
Then Nico stepped closer once more, resting his hand against Jason’s groin. He felt the thick weight of Jason's cock grow in his hands.
“Now show me,” Nico murmured, voice lower now, “how a man like you handles a cocksucking punk like me.”
With that, Nico lowered himself in front of him, looking up expectantly as he slowly pulled down Jason’s jeans and jockstrap to release his cock that sprang immediately to attention.
Nico brought his lips to Jason’s cock, and slowly licked the tip, running his tongue slowly along its length. Nico then looked up, Jason frozen, anger in his eyes, but with little resistance.
Jason stood there smoking his cigar, staring down at him. The anger was still there, but now it had mixed with confidence, pride, and something darker. Slowly, he reached down and loosened his clothes enough to free himself.
Nico leaned in closer, his eyes stayed locked on him the entire time. “Make me pay for what I did to you. Take that shame and turn it into anger. Make my punk arse pay. Fuck my face like it will wash away the gulit”
Jason grabbed him firmly by the back of the head almost immediately, more roughness than tenderness in the movement. Nico barely resisted, letting Jason take control of the moment, he needed to. Jason pushed Nico’s head further down on his cock. Almost as if to shut him up, as to suffocate him with his cock. He let him go for a second, allowing him to take a breath, before doing it again. Holding his head in place with one hand, he paused and took another deep puff of his cigar to remind himself he was the man.
Seeing him struggle to take his cock, saliva dribbling down his mouth, tears welling in his eyes, just egged him on. The only indication that Nico was enjoying it was how tightly he grabbed Jason’s arse to almost help pull him in deeper. Jason held him there, breathing heavily through his nose while smoke curled from the cigar between his fingers. Every frustrated emotion—guilt, anger, humiliation, desire—seemed to pour out through the way he handled him now.
Nico noticed it instantly.
This wasn’t just lust anymore. Jason was trying to reclaim himself. Trying to prove to both of them that he still had authority somewhere in all of this. And for a while, Nico let him believe it.
Jason eventually pulled back long enough to take another slow drag from the cigar, steadying himself again before looking down at Nico. The sight in front of him only fed the contradiction tearing through his chest—the shame of wanting this mixed with the undeniable rush of power it gave him.
It didn’t take long before the tension overwhelmed him completely. Before long, he was shooting huge streams of cum down Nico's throat. Without missing a beat, Nico swallowed each load down. Taking him all in.
The release hit him hard, sudden and intense, leaving him breathing heavily afterward while Nico stayed close, calm and composed.
For a brief second, Jason relaxed.
Then the guilt came rushing back.
He looked down, seeing Nico still kneeling there in front of him, and reality crashed into him all over again. The cigar between his fingers suddenly felt ridiculous—like a desperate attempt to hold onto the version of himself that kept slipping further away every time Nico touched him
Jason finally forced himself to look directly at him, gathering what remained of his composure.
“I need you out of here, boy,” he snapped. “This is my fucking house, and I’m the one in charge here. I don’t need your messed-up bullshit around me.”
His breathing sharpened as the anger finally surfaced. “This ends now. You and I are done, and I don’t want to see you again.”
Nico listened quietly, but the expression on his face never changed. If anything, the speech only amused him. He stood up, boots firmly planted one the ground, cigar smoke drifting through the kitchen while Jason stood there practically shaking with emotion.
When Nico finally spoke, his voice stayed calm.
“You say that like you’re trying to convince me,” he said. “But really, I know you’re trying to convince yourself.”
Jason’s jaw tightened.
Nico added, “I left you alone once, remember? You were the one asking where I was. You were the one acting weird around Henry because you couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
Jason looked away immediately. “You can pretend this is all my fault,” Nico continued, “but I didn’t invent anything. I just brought it to the surface.” He stood close to Jason. “You built this whole life around being the perfect man. The strict father. The good husband. The Christian guy who runs his house and keeps everybody in line.” Nico smirked faintly. “But there’s another part of you underneath all that control, isn’t there?”
Jason’s stomach twisted.
“A part of you that’s tired.” Nico stepped closer. “A part that wants to stop holding everything together all the time. Wants somebody else to take over for once.”
“Shut up,” Jason muttered, though there wasn’t much force behind it.
Nico ignored him completely. “So what’s it going to be, Jason?” he asked quietly. “Which side wins?” The question hung heavily between them.
“I can walk out that door right now, and you can go back to your perfect little life. Back to pretending none of this happened.” Nico’s eyes locked onto his. “But let’s be honest, the last time I disappeared for a few days, you couldn’t handle it.”
Jason’s face tightened immediately. Because Nico was right.
The silence after Nico vanished had been unbearable. Jason had tried to throw himself into work, church, family dinners, yard work—anything to quiet his mind. None of it worked. Every quiet moment dragged him right back to Nico. To the tension. To the loss of control that should have terrified him but instead kept replaying in his head like an addiction.
He hated how badly he wanted it again.
Nico moved toward the door, almost casually, like he really was about to leave. Then, at the last second, he stopped beside Jason.
Smoke drifted between them as Nico turned his head slightly. “So what’s it going to be?” he asked again, softer this time.
Jason couldn’t answer.
Nico’s hand brushed briefly against Jason’s groin, just enough to make him tense instantly. “I walk out that door,” Nico murmured, “and I leave you alone. You’ll never see me again.”
Jason snapped immediately. “Then get the fuck out,” he barked. “I don’t ever want to see the likes of you in my house again.”
Nico just smirked. “You say that. We’ll see how long you last.”
With that, he took his cigar, walked out the door, and disappeared down the street without looking back.
Jason stood there watching him go until he vanished from sight.
—--------
The next few days settled into an uneasy routine.
Nico still came around the house to see Henry like he always had. At first Henry noticed the distance between his Dad and Nico, but eventually it started to feel normal. Nico acted like nothing had happened. He never mentioned Jason. Never pushed. Never even looked at him for too long.
And somehow that made it worse.
Jason began unraveling quietly. He grew shorter tempered, moodier, harder to be around. Henry noticed almost immediately.
“You okay?” he asked one evening while Jason sat smoking silently on the patio. “You’ve been weird lately.”
“I’m fine,” Jason snapped too quickly. But he wasn’t.
Everything irritated him now. The house felt too quiet. Church felt hollow. Even spending time with his wife only made him more aware of how disconnected he felt.
Worst of all, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nico.
Not just the sex.
The feeling. The loss of control. The intensity. The way Nico looked at him like he could see through every layer Jason had spent years building around himself.
Nico noticed it too, though he never said anything. If anything, he deliberately gave Jason exactly what he claimed to want: distance.
Jason lasted a little over two weeks.
One afternoon Henry left town for the weekend, leaving Nico nothing to do, but sit alone at his apartment.
A knock came at the door just after dark. Nico opened it and froze slightly when he saw Jason standing there.
Jason looked exhausted. Tense. Like he hadn’t slept properly in days. Nico leaned against the doorway. “What the fuck do you want?” he asked casually. “Thought you wanted me gone.”
Jason straightened himself automatically, trying to regain some dignity. Even worn down like this, he still carried himself like a man used to authority.
“We need to talk,” he muttered.
Nico almost laughed. “No, you need to talk. You’ve got issues to work through. I’m not your damn therapist.”
Jason looked away briefly before finally saying, quieter this time, “I know.” Something in his voice made Nico step aside and let him in.
The tension followed them straight into the kitchen. Nico grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one over. Jason accepted it silently, taking a long drink almost immediately.
For a while, neither of them said much. Jason stood there awkwardly, clearly struggling to say what he had come to say. Nico watched him carefully the entire time. Even vulnerable, Jason still looked solid and imposing—broad shoulders, rough hands, that same intimidating presence that somehow only made the cracks in him more obvious now.
And Nico could feel himself getting excited all over again.
Finally Jason muttered, “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Jason admitted reluctantly, like the words physically hurt to say.
Nico said nothing. That finally made Nico move closer. Slowly. Deliberately.
By the time he stepped into Jason’s space, Jason wasn’t resisting anymore. “Let’s get something straight,” Nico said quietly. “You know what you want. And you know I know it too.”
Jason swallowed hard but stayed still. “You’re here because part of you stopped pretending.”
Nico reached down, grabbing him firmly enough to pull a reaction from him immediately. Jason inhaled sharply as Nico tightened his grip slightly, already feeling him respond.
“That’s it,” Nico murmured. “No more acting.”
Jason leaned forward slightly, eyes closing for just a second.
Nico kept hold of him, voice calm and confident. “Here’s how this works now. When I want you, I come get you. And you stop fighting yourself long enough to admit you want it too.”
Jason looked up at him finally, conflicted but unable to deny the pull between them anymore.
Nico smirked faintly.
“There’s my big, tough man.”
“Good boy,” Nico said softly. “Now come on. Let’s move into the living room and talk about this like men.”
Jason followed behind him without arguing.
Nico dropped comfortably into the recliner, forcing Jason to choose the couch instead. As he settled in, Nico noticed the half-smoked cigar resting in the ashtray from the night before.
Lately he had grown strangely attached to the ritual—late nights, whiskey in hand, smoke curling through the room while the house went quiet around him. He was becoming a different man.
He picked the cigar up, rolling it between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. The wrapper was still slightly damp from the previous night. Nico flicked on his torch lighter, drawing slowly until the tip glowed again.
Smoke drifted upward between them, partially obscuring Jason through the haze.
Nico noticed the symbolism immediately. Normally this would have been Jason’s space—Jason in the recliner, Jason smoking while everyone else listened, Jason commanding the room without effort.
But tonight Nico occupied that position instead.
And Jason knew it.
Nico leaned back comfortably, spreading his legs slightly as he took another slow drag from the cigar. The silence between them became almost unbearable. Jason sat rigid, watching him carefully, trapped somewhere between resentment and fascination.
Nico finally broke the silence.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
Jason didn’t answer.
Nico’s eyes stayed fixed on him. “You came because you need this.” As he said this, Nico slowly pulled his zipper down. Jason watched. He then reached in and pulled out his now hard cock. He stared at Jason.
Jason swallowed hard.
The room seemed to tighten around them.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jason moved from the couch and lowered himself on his knees as he crept over to Nico. Even then, there was hesitation in him—a man fighting years of instinct and pride with every inch he gave away.
Nico studied him carefully. This was new territory for Jason. That much was obvious. But underneath the awkwardness was hunger too, growing stronger every time Jason let himself stop thinking and simply feel.
Jason leaned in to Nico’s cock, bringing his nose close and taking a deep inhale, breathing him in. He then slowly extended his tongue forward towards his cock. He closed his eyes as his tongue made contact with Nico's dick. He then slowly ran his tongue down the shaft. He then quickly ran it back up, pausing at the tip as he swirled the precum, spreading it over the head and onto his tongue.
At first Jason moved cautiously, uncertain of himself, but the longer the moment stretched, the more confidence slowly replaced hesitation. Jason quickly got into the moment, putting his mouth over the tip of his cock, sucking it. He then slowly descended down on Nico’s, testing his gag reflex. He was impressed with how easy he found it to take all of his cock. He proceeded to work his cock side to side, as he explored Nico's cock from every direction, like he was finding the perfect way to hold it. Never wanting to let it go.
Nico leaned back and let him explore, let him discover the strange mix of humiliation, desire, and release that kept dragging him back here despite every moral instinct telling him to run.
Letting Jason explore him as he smoked his cigar, taking deep inhales as Jason found his perfect rhythm. Nico put his hands on the back of Jason's head and mimicked him, slowly pushing him all the way down on his cock. Nico sat back, satisfied with himself, revealing the idea of Jason being a hungry little cocksucker. Seeing the transformation fascinated Nico.
This massive, intimidating man—the strict father, the commanding presence, the self-righteous protector of his household—was slowly unraveling beneath his hands.
And Jason knew it too. That was what made it impossible to look away from.
Eventually Nico reached forward, resting a hand against the back of Jason’s head, guiding him gently but firmly. Jason responded immediately, falling into rhythm, and Nico could feel the shift happening again—that dangerous surrender Jason kept trying and failing to resist.
Nico could feel himself getting close. But Nico wasn’t interested in rushing the moment. This had stopped being just about sex a while ago. It was about ownership now. Control. Every contradiction Jason carried inside himself collided at once.
Nico finally stopped him, grabbed him by the head and pulled him off his cock. He then told him to get up, Jason looked dazed for a moment, almost disappointed. Jason stared up at Nico, cigar hanging from his mouth. Jason's eyes were hungry, a need to keep going, the desire to get back on his cock fast. Nico just smiled, “Get up.” Now it is time for you to ride your boy like the slut you are.
“I want you to strip,” Nico said quietly. “Take off all your clothes.”
Jason hesitated for only a second before reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Nico’s eyes immediately drifted across the powerful shape of him—the broad chest, thick shoulders, and heavy arms that flexed with every movement. Even the simple act of undressing carried a kind of presence to it, the sort that came naturally to a man used to commanding attention the second he entered a room.
For a moment, Nico was reminded of the shower all over again. The steam. The tension. The first time he realized just how badly he wanted this man.
Jason bent slightly to work his jeans down over his boots, then kicked them aside along with his socks. When he straightened again, he stood fully exposed beneath the dim living-room light, all rough masculinity and quiet tension.
Nico leaned back slightly, taking him in without shame. Every inch of Jason fascinated him—the sheer size of him, the strength in his frame, the restrained power he carried even now. Nico wanted to touch him everywhere, drag his mouth across every hard line of muscle until Jason completely lost himself again.
But now was not the time to rush.
This moment deserved to breathe.
Jason slowly stepped forward until he stood between Nico’s knees, towering over him. For the first time since arriving, Jason looked uncertain instead of angry.
And Nico found that somehow even more intoxicating.
“Turn around,” Nico told him quietly.
Jason hesitated briefly before obeying, standing directly in front of him with visible tension still running through his body. Nico set the cigar aside and rested his hands against Jason’s arse cheeks, feeling the strength in them.
For a moment, Nico simply admired him. The arse spread, the perfect hole, his broad back, the heavy muscle across his shoulders, the vulnerability hidden beneath all that power. Jason looked like a man built to dominate every room he entered, yet here he was, letting himself be guided instead.
Nico spread his cheeks wide and then leaned in closer, letting his nose take in the musky smell of sweat. He then ran his tongue slowly along his taint, playing gently with his hole. Nico could feel Jason's hole twitching under the assault of his tongue as he slowly pushed it deeper inside. There was no resistance this time as Nico's tongue flicked inside him, slowly stretching the hole further. Nico ran his tongue in and out and up and down his crack. He spread his arse as far apart as he could, trying to bury himself deeper and deeper into the hole.
The touched linger, slow and deliberate. Jason inhaled sharply at the contact but didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed more willing now—less resistant to the strange pull between them.
The room grew quieter around them, broken only by Jason’s uneven breathing and the faint crackle from the forgotten cigar still burning nearby. Nico took his time, exploring the reactions he could pull from him with the smallest touch, enjoying the way Jason gradually stopped fighting for control and simply gave himself over to the moment.
Nico then brought his fingers to his hole, as he spread his own saliva over Jason’s crack, moving it up and down, as he slowly pushed his fingers deep into his hole. Jason seemed more willing than he expected to be finger fucked, as Nico added two and then three fingers, forcing them in and out of Jason's hole. Every shift in Jason’s posture told the story. The tension is slowly easing. The guardedness is fading. The reluctant surrender returns piece by piece.
Nico smiled faintly to himself.
A few weeks ago, Jason would have stormed out before letting anything go this far. Now he stood there willingly, letting Nico take his time with him, trusting him enough to let go of some of that constant control he carried everywhere else in his life.
Eventually Nico straightened again and lightly guided Jason to turn back around. Jason stared at Nico before carefully lowering himself to straddle his lap. The weight of him settled there heavily, the heat of his body immediately filling the space between them.
Jason's expression had changed completely. The anger was still there somewhere underneath, along with the guilt and confusion, but now there was something else too—anticipation.
And Nico could see it clearly. He then grabbed the cigar, brought it back to his lips and puffed on it. He then grabbed his cock, and slapped Jason arse with it. He then told him to raise himself up. He held his cock upright and told Jason to descend slowly onto his cock. Jason did as he was told, taking aim, guiding Nico’s cock to his hole. Once he found the target, he slowly descended. Nico held it in place as Jason went further and further down until he fully engulfed Nico.
Jason paused at the bottom, taking deep breaths. He looked at Nico, cigars between his lips, fully aware of the beaming smile on this punk-arsed kid. Jason then rose slightly and enjoyed the sensation of that dick slowly rubbing against his hole, feeling it push out, then as he pushed down, hitting that sweet spot. It wasn't long before started to find his own rhythm again bouncing up and down on Nico's cock, watching intently while the little punk just smiled
Piece by piece, Jason shed the image he had spent his entire life building. The stern father. The churchgoing patriarch. The man who always knew exactly who he was.
Nico smiled to himself. Jason got into his own rhythm, going faster, up and down, on Nico's dick. He then exclaimed, “Look at you bitch, riding my cock, you huge fucking slut. You like that your ass is being ripped to shreds by a little punk like me.“
Jason enjoyed Nico degrading him more than he realized. Having him tell him, this was all that he was good for. It only got him harder.
Jason was surprised to find his cock start twitching. He had forgotten about his dick while riding Nico. All his attention was on pleasuring his own arse. But, looking at Nico, the smug look on his face, as his cock tore open his arse, teasing his prostrate, had turned him on more than he realized. Finally he felt the build up in his cock as he unloaded a huge load of cum. Spraying between them, landing on Nico's chest and his own. Streams and streams of cum shot from his cock. Spraying them both.
Nico just smiled, “good boy, you clearly like this more than you'll admit” before reminding him softly, “Don’t stop, boy. Not until daddy’s done.”
The words only seemed to drive Jason harder. Every movement became rougher, more desperate, like he was trying to lose himself completely in the moment instead of thinking about what any of this meant.
Then Nico noticed Jason leaning forward slowly.
He instinctively removed the cigar from his lips just as Jason moved closer, their faces inches apart before Jason finally closed the distance between them.
The kiss caught Nico off guard.
There was nothing hesitant about it now. Jason kissed him with an almost aggressive need, like weeks of restraint and confusion had finally snapped all at once. It wasn’t careful or experimental anymore—it was hungry, demanding, emotional in a way Jason probably didn’t even realize himself.
Nico responded immediately, gripping the back of Jason’s head and pulling him closer until the kiss deepened fully between them. Smoke still lingered on Nico’s lips, mixing with the heat and tension already consuming the room.
For a moment, everything else disappeared—the guilt, the power struggle, the arguments, the fear of what this made Jason.
There was only the feeling of him.
And Nico could feel the shift instantly.
This wasn’t just about control anymore. That was what made the kiss so dangerous. Jason had spent the entire night trying to convince himself this was only lust, only release, only a temporary loss of control. But people didn’t kiss like this when it meant nothing.
Nico realized Jason was finally letting himself want more than the physical act itself.
As the tension between them built again, Jason gradually stopped resisting the moment and simply gave himself over to it. The roughness, the praise, the degradation, the strange intimacy of it all blurred together until he wasn’t sure where shame ended and desire began anymore.
Jason's arse continued to bounce up and down on Nico's cock, as he looked deep into Jason's eyes. The moment was like nothing he had felt before. This huge man riding his cock, kissing him. This was more than Nico could take, his cock started to twitch, balls contracted, as he finally let go, shooting his load deep in Jason's ass. Nico let out a heavy exhale, leaning into the release.
By the time it was over, both men sat there for a moment catching their breath, the room heavy with smoke, sweat, and silence. Jason slowly stood and began pulling his clothes back on, though the expression on his face made it obvious he was already retreating back into himself again.
Standing there now, exposed beneath the dim living room light, he looked less certain than Nico had ever seen him. But he also looked freer.
That realization scared Jason almost as much as it excited him.
It wasn’t just lust anymore. That was what made it dangerous. Nico noticed immediately.
“So what happens now?” Nico asked. “You go back to your wife and kid? Pretend this never happened?”
The guilt hit Jason visibly at the mention of them.
Nico softened slightly, reading the conflict written all over him.
“Or,” he added casually, “you stay. We grill some meat, drink a few beers, smoke cigars, and act like two men who just had a hell of a night.”
Jason let out a quiet breath, torn between panic and relief.
Then, despite himself, he smiled faintly.
“A burger and a beer sound pretty damn good right now,” he admitted.
Nico grinned. “Thought so.”
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
