But when I get another one of his cute little sleepy noises and a heavy arm around my shoulders, the annoying, fanciful voice in my head tells me this is worth it.
After a few more hours of fitful sleep, I’m sitting in a restaurant with Dean, who’s stuffing his face and making noises that belong in the bedroom, not in public. I’ve already had more than enough for lunch, and he’s showing no signs of slowing down.
“Enjoying yourself?” I quip, and he raises his head from his bowl of noodles mid-bite, cocking an eyebrow and swallowing abruptly.
“What does it look like?” He takes a swig from the glass of water next to him. “I’m making up for lost time.”
What it looks like is clear. He’s ordered around twenty-five bucks worth of food for the two of us, which is a lot, and he’s eaten over two-thirds of everything. It’s after the lunch rush, so we snagged a secluded booth, giving this guy the license to act however he wants.
The funny thing is that I find it cute, the way he looks so damn happy here. Sure, he’s barely holding back pleasured moans, but the satisfied smile that lives on his face is infectious—if he’s happy, so am I.
“Alright, I’m through,” he announces after clearing the last plate of food and leaning back. The hem of his sweater rides up, and of course I have to ogle the sexy strip of skin that reveals itself. “Wanna head out?”
“Sure.” I pull out my phone to pay. “I’ll get this one.”
Dean snickers. “Too late. I already paid when I ordered.”
Bastard.
“But hey, you’re technically visiting me,” he continues, “so it’s my job to take care of you.”
Not bastard.Fuck, if that doesn’t make my stomach go all fuzzy. It isn’t like Ihaven’tbeen taken care of by a friend before, but this feels different. My one semester of Chinese is only holding up through basic interactions here, and for everything else, I’m dependent on Dean to lead the way. And honestly, it’s relaxing. I can shut my brain off and let him show me around.
We take what he calls the long way back to his place, leaving the mall we had lunch at and walking along the lake. There’s a crisp breeze cutting through the warm air, rippling the water and shaking the bare branches of the many willow trees lining the waterfront, as well as making Dean’s hair fall cutely in front of his face. I plunge my fingers into the strands and ruffle them even more while he protests, threatening to throw me into the lake, and I take off running, first as a joke, and then more seriously when I remember he has longer legs than me and can actually catch up.
And when he does, the douchebag tackles me onto the soft grass, the two of us laughing our damn heads off while I try to shove him away.
I missed this—horsing around and acting like a fool with a friend. Dean and I are almost equally matched size-wise, too, so I don’t have to worry about hurting him as much, like I would with someone like Ian.
Not-so-innocently feeling Dean’s body on mine is a plus, too. But we recover some semblance of normalcy, choosing to keep heading back while enjoying the afternoon sun. Most of the way takes us through a neatly paved pedestrian area, still along the quietlakefront, and the few main roads we walk by are tree-lined and almost silent.
It’s relaxing, and I can’t help but rest my tired head on Dean’s warm shoulder. There’s an urge to hold his hand, too, but I restrain myself. We don’t need any of that energy. Or anymoreof it.
Dean grabs an armful of packages from a locker in the basement of his building, and I steal some of his pre-workout while he gleefully opens them. It’s quiet in this neighborhood, and even quieter in his housing compound’s gym. I still need to keep up with conditioning, even when I’m on the other side of the world. If anything, it helps with jet lag, too. Or maybe it’s the pre-workout.
And Dean coming to join me after half an hour, wearing a freaking tank top, wakes me right up again. I roll my eyes when I catch him staring at me in the mirror as I crank out some lat pulldowns, and I ogle him right back, licking my lips for effect when he spreads his legs to lie back on a bench.
Having an actual target, or outlet, for all these urges is damn refreshing, even when it makes my productivity tank. But I press on.
We keep our sweaty selves safely distanced on the way back after our workout, at least until we jump in the shower together. And as much as feeling his slippery skin under the jets riles me the hell up, it’s the deep kiss I plant on his lips that really gets to me.
Yeah, it’s wet of course, but it still tastes like him. Those little sighs he makes when he claws at my back are pretty sweet, too. God, he’s amazing, and I can’t get enough.
Dean’s fingers find their way to my cock, tugging me to full mast, and he gets on his knees to blow me. All I can focus on is the reverent expression behind his gaze when he takes me deep, and the satisfied smile he wears once I’m done.
I bend down, and he stops me, pulling me back upright.
“I can wait,” he says. “My parents are gonna be home soon.”
“Suit yourself.” I soap my hands up and clean him off, making sure to torture him a little when I get to his dick.
He only scoffs, massaging some herbal-smelling conditioner into my hair and kissing my forehead.
And that’s what it takes for me to freeze in the middle of cleaning his nuts. A damn forehead kiss.
All I can think of isFuck, I wish we could be more than friends.
Which is super freaking inconvenient. Still, it’s natural—Dean’s a great guy, and there’s a reason why we’re friends. I just have to keep things that way, not let him know I’m slipping up, and not get too bothered by him remaining so casual and friendly with me.
