I don’t precisely remember how I got back from the party to my dorm room that night. Followed by Adrian’s eyes, filled with hurt and confusion, I stalked out of the room, mumbling something as means of apology to the girl who’d gotten me off with her mouth. She didn’t seem to care, as she was already too busy congressing with her girlfriend, ignoring me completely as if I’d been nothing but a penis for her to suck.
Adrian, on the other hand… I just couldn’t look at him anymore. After my short-lived victory, the acidic bitter taste was back in my mouth, and I wanted nothing to do with that room, those girls, and even him.
I stumbled down the stairs; thinking back, it was a wonder I didn’t break my neck on my way out.
Then, it’s all a blur.
It was around four in the morning when Adrian returned. I pretended to be asleep while he fumbled in the dark, hitting something and cursing under his breath. If there was an aftermath to what had transpired during our little orgy with members of the fairer sex, I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.
I didn’t just watch you fucking someone else.
You didn’t just watch me put on a show for you, because that’s what you asked.
As you can easily imagine, I didn’t dare speak a word of all that. I just waited for him to chill and get in bed, too, which he eventually did, turning his back to me and remaining on one side.
But he didn’t fall asleep. I was holding my breath so I could hear his, and it was clear his breathing wasn’t dropping to the steady rhythm of someone who was drifting off.
Those were angry hours. Adrian was the only one to blame, I told myself, over and over, but I couldn’t shake off the guilt. It had been pounded into me for too long to forget about it. What could I say? That I was sorry? About what?
He hadn’t come, at least before I left. His hookup seemed in no mood to get him off once she got her pleasure out of him. What a selfish prick. Yeah, girls can be pricks, too. Feel free to disagree.
Things could’ve gone in all directions after my leaving. The two girls could’ve jumped on his dick, licking and sucking until he blew all over their faces, the taste of him on their tongues mixed with the chemical coating of the condom he must’ve removed so he could enjoy that blowjob.
Only that he hadn’t moved like someone with empty balls when he got back. No, he was still angry. And I was hoping that he was angry at me more than at himself, regardless of what I had been hoping in the first place.
***
We were back to being strangers. Adrian disappeared from our dorm room the moment he got up. Really, he couldn’t get dressed fast enough to be out the door. Everything he did, he used snappy, short moves that made me flinch on occasion. It wasn’t like I was really expecting him to get violent with me, because despite the bad boy persona he tried to project, he was just normal. Within limits, seeing how his plan to make me get it on with a girl eventually backfired and hurt him more than it hurt me.
I wanted to leave it at that, because I was well aware that we couldn’t be good for or to each other. Or both. However, I noticed that he wasn’t hooking up left and right like he used to. Through the grapevine, I heard that he was ‘consumed by his passion’ and therefore, excused from fucking pussy, somehow.
His academic performance improved. I had no intention to call his mom and let her know her wayward son was back to his old self, the one with a passion for art and less for fucking up. But she called to thank me, and I accepted her gratitude after some initial polite protestations.
“Are you boys coming home for Thanksgiving?”
Her question took me by surprise. Time did fly, as trite as that may sound. And Adrian had mentioned something before about how we would have to be back home for that particular holiday. He’d even said that I’d be there, regardless of whether I wanted to or not. I doubted he still felt that strongly about having me around at our shared familial Thanksgiving dinner, the first of our lives.
I made up something about preferring to spend the holidays, winter break included, on campus. A lot to study, too much material to cover, yada-yada.
“Don’t work yourself to the bone from your first year in college, Jordan,” she said kindly.
But I had to. One, because I needed to secure the independent financial future I wanted, and two, because it was the only way for me to forget about Adrian and not obsess over him constantly. If left to my own designs, I would’ve probably done nothing but wallow in unexpected feelings of loss over his lack of communication with me.
I asked her, just as kindly, not to worry about me. Luckily for me, she didn’t try to mother the extra son she’d gotten through her association with my dad. I hadn’t heard from him, but I wasn’t expecting that anyway.
***
I missed the luggage dropped in front of the door by an inch. Adrian was leaving for Thanksgiving, but that shouldn’t mean that he was free to block the only exit we had with his stuff. He was nowhere in sight, which meant that I’d probably get a glimpse of him one last time before he left.
Or maybe not. I sat at the desk and pulled out my textbooks. The topics were dry and difficult at times, but they worked like balm for my wretched soul.
The door opened behind me.
“You’re not ready yet?”
I played with the idea of ignoring him, but only for a moment. “Ready for what?” I asked, without turning.
My entire body was aware of his, moving through the room. Adrian leaned against the desk by my right side and crossed his arms. I stole a look at him, and that was all I could see. He slammed his hand on my textbook, forcing me to take in his long fingers, fingers that had once been in my ass, hurting me on purpose.
“We’re leaving in two hours.”
“You are leaving, dear brother,” I said and put my hand on his wrist to force him to move it away from my study materials.
He was like steel underneath that lanky, attractive appearance. So it wasn’t easy for me to remove his hand without making it into a big thing. Eventually, I had to meet his eyes.
“Adrian,” I said in a false, sugary voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He looked so good I could die for a kiss from him that very moment.
“Mom ordered me to bring you over. Sorry, but you can’t disappoint her. She’ll never forgive you.”
So it was her putting him up to this. It didn’t come from him, so I was under no obligation to fulfill anyone’s wishes. Anyone who wasn’t him.
“I already explained the situation to your mother,” I said, stubbornly remaining stuck in place. “She won’t hold it against me if I’m not visiting for Thanksgiving.”
“I’m asking you, then,” he said suddenly.
I toyed with the idea to refuse him. But we needed a truce of some kind after the fiasco from that night. Still, I had to ask. “Why would you want me there, with you and your happy family?”
“It’s your family, too,” Adrian shot back, showing his annoyance by bunching his hand over the textbook pages, wrinkling them to the point of tearing.
“You hate me,” I accused.
“I don’t hate you.” His hand relaxed and he moved it upward to cup my chin; I had to look into his eyes. They were as pretty as I remembered, albeit marred by dark circles now.
“What would your mom think if I told her we barely speak?”
His hand hardened on my chin. “What would your dad think if I told him you’re gay?”
I forced a smirk out of myself. “I came in a chick’s mouth in front of you. Not so gay, right?”
He was growing frustrated with me, and I could tell. It was up to me to free him from his misery, but I liked playing with him. Although we were at odds, we were talking, and that was a big change from the miserable weeks I had spent deprived of him completely.
“Fine,” I said, seeing how he said nothing to pressure me on. That was quite endearing of him; sometimes, he failed to find his words in front of me. I started packing my textbooks and putting them away. Since my earthly possessions could barely fit in a modest luggage, it wouldn’t take me long to get ready. The only problem was… “Wait, I don’t have a bus ticket,” I said.
“Bus ticket.” He snorted loudly through his nose. “You don’t need one. We’re driving.”
“You don’t have a car,” I pointed out the obvious.
“I so do,” he said back, having the indecency to act indignant over my lack of knowledge on the matter.
“Since when?”
“Since I bought one, obviously, dummy.”
Dummy. Was it weird that I felt getting warm on the inside when he called me that?
“With what money?” I continued my interview.
“Pack your bags already,” Adrian said, rolling his eyes to show how fed up he was with me.
“If you have a car, why do we have to leave in two hours?”
I hadn’t expected the kiss. He grabbed me by my shoulders and kissed me hard. I caught his arms to steady myself, because the taste of his tongue in my mouth made me dizzy. After so long, this thirsty man was having a sip of the most delicious water. It was too much, all of a sudden like that.
“I had to say something,” Adrian replied, shrugging for a moment.
He still held me close. I was drowning in his eyes, and I didn’t want to show my weakness. He was just that much of an expert at catching me by surprise.
“Finally, silent,” he said, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip hard as if he wanted to crush it against my lower teeth. He watched me closely, getting nearer, as if he could read something cryptic on my face. “Was that enough to get you hard?”
I pulled back, annoyed with how cocksure he was. But he caught me again, his hand on my crotch, checking for himself.
And I was hard. Harder when he pulled my cock out of my pants.
“Do you want me to blow you, Jo?” he asked against my lips, his eyes so hungry I wanted to kiss him for being so frustrating. His hand moved with confidence, jerking me off. I bit my bottom lip. If I stayed silent, would it be better?
“Come on, don’t hold back,” he continued to torture me with his words and with his hand. “We both know how much you like having your dick sucked.”
I wanted to deny it, but the only proof that mattered was in his hand.
“Was she good?” he asked, moving his lips slowly over the corner of my mouth. “Better than me?”
“No, not better than you,” I replied in a voice I could barely control.
“How good was she?”
“She wasn’t,” I said, yearning for telling the truth.
He stopped and moved his head away so he could read my face. “Don’t lie, Jo. I’ll leave you hard, and you won’t like your blue balls later, okay?”
“I’m not lying. You wanted me to get with her, I did.” I stared fiercely into his eyes. I wanted him to understand the truth, but I didn’t want to spell it for him. It was just not done.
“So was it all because of me? You blew a load in her mouth,” he accused me.
It was understandable. Adrian wanted to wiggle himself out of the dilemma he’d created for himself. But I had to make him see the truth. Because if I broke down first and told him how much I loved him, he’d despise me and leave. Leave me. People don’t want a clingy fucker to cry over them; the moment you do that, you’re doomed.
“A mouth is a mouth,” I said in a rough whisper. My eyes were so dry, there had to be visible cracks in them.
“No,” he said harshly. “Not for you.”
We squared against each other, his hand still on my aching cock. He was holding the damn thing so tightly, I could feel my pulse quickening.
“If you already know so much, why do you keep asking?” I said.
“Because I want to hear you say it,” he told me, eyes blazing, his fingers viselike around my cock, ready to crush it.
“I didn’t want her to blow me. I wanted you to do that.” My voice had started shaking. “I imagined you in her place. It was the only way I could blow.”
“You’d say anything to have your dick sucked,” he accused me openly.
“No. If you never put your mouth on me again, I’d still want you to know the truth. It’s your mouth I want,” I said, forgetting about the need to protect myself. “It’s you I want to feed with my cum, you fucking slut.”
The insult made him stagger as if I slapped him. But it lasted a moment. He liked that, much to my surprise. He wanted me angry, I realized. Because Adrian yearned for control just as much as I did, only that he didn’t have the discipline or the inclination to cultivate that special skill on his own. So he wanted me to relinquish control instead.
“I’m a slut?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. His lips twitched in amusement. “Then how about you treat me like one?”
I pushed him to his knees, and he didn’t resist. I knew he had the means to fight me if he wanted, so I took his obedience at face value.
Next, I slapped his hand away from my cock and grabbed the thing myself. With one hand, I guided my dick toward his mouth, which he opened eagerly. I pushed inside the wet, warm opening in one go, making him choke in surprise.
I didn’t let him catch his breath. Although he squirmed and even hit my thighs with his fists, I grabbed his hair and held him tightly while I started using him like he was my personal blow doll.
He’d be mad at me later, I thought. But Adrian loved to provoke me because there was something about me that irked him to no end, and he wanted to unearth all of that, thinking he could handle it.
At one point, I started using both hands to hold his head and skullfuck him. The muffled sounds he made, his moans, were just too cute. This mistreatment was my doing, but it was his favorite way to enjoy himself at the same time.
I came down his throat, and he swallowed everything to the last drop. I know because I held him there until there was nothing left in my balls.
He got up, red in the face, tears in his eyes, but his lips were stretched into a smile. “You’re such an asshole, Jo,” he said, and all I could read in his voice at that point was relief.
We were back to whatever status quo he preferred for us for the time being. And I was fine with it because I was willing to give him everything as long as he didn’t forget about me.
tbc
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