Page 67 of Give Me What You Will

He could feel the taut line of desire between them, pulling him in like a magnet, weighted and heavy, and so damned real that he could wrap his hand around it and tug. Except he didn’t want to tug Sammy to him. It was time he went to him and took what Sammy was willing to give, even if it was crumbs.

Fuckin’ dog scraps.

It didn’t matter.

If Sammy endured 15 years with a hard-on for Frankie, he could endure it, too, until his best friend realized that they needed each other. The only thing that scared him was that he needed Sammy more than Sammy needed him. So, when Sammy called him in crisis, called him, he bought the plane ticket for the next day.

That’s why he was here.

For the first time in nearly a year, Sammy had needed him.

And fuck, it felt different than before. Everything felt different—he felt different. He was awake and aware and so fuckin’ aroused.

Frankie invaded his best friend's space, grasping him roughly and feeling the wet curls at the base of his neck, forcing him to look at him and digging his fingers into the tight muscle.

Sammy’s chin shot up defiantly.

“You owe me,” Frankie drawled.

“I don’t owe you shit.”

He smiled darkly, biting his lower lip, inching closer. The heat of their bodies was close but still not touching. “You started this.”

Sammy snorted, “What are you? Ten?”

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy sometimes…” He raked his fingers through the thick curls and heard the hard rush of breath from Sammy’s parted lips.

The wall trembled.

He bit back the triumphant smile. “You never had a big mouth until you kissed me, and now—you’re fightin’ and flirtin’ and drivin’ me fuckin’ wild… baby.”

Sammy shuddered, pupils dilating to near black at the word.

His cock jerked at the sight.

Fuck. Yes.

Sammy instantly tried to draw back, but Frankie’s grip tightened, his free hand grasping his bare waist, slamming their bodies together, pinning him. He smelled of grass, dirt, sweat, and him—that faint scent that he couldn’t describe but loved. It was Frankie’s turn to tremble, and he sighed, inhaling him.

“You smell good.” His voice was rough, laced with need. “I forgot how good you smell.”

Another shudder as Sammy’s stiff body softened against him.

“I know that this scares you, Sammy. It scares me, too,” he admitted. “I’ve only known one version of you. And then, after 15 fuckin’ years, you showed me something else.”

He slid his hand up his naked side, wanting to possess him, capture the man behind the wall. “I want to know this side of you—the one that you kept from me.”

Sammy sucked in a breath, “Frankie… I can’t.”

He swallowed, desire flaring in his belly, feeling the growing thickness of Sammy’s obvious arousal pressing tellingly into him.

“Give me what you will, then,” he murmured. “I can be patient, baby.”

Sammy’s jaw clenched down hard. “Fuck. Stop.”

He knew Sammy was referring to the pet name, and shook his head. “Never. I can’t fuckin’ stop. Ever since that first night at the bar. I didn’t mean to say it—but maybe I did. Maybe you’ve always been my fuckin’ baby, and it took watching you cum for me to finally see it. Because, fuck, baby—you look so goddamned good covered in our cum.”

“Oh fuck,” Sammy groaned, his cock pressing demandingly hard against him.