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“Fuck you.” I twist and arch up, but all it does is make it so Troy is lying on top of me now. I don’t stop moving, not wanting to hurt him but wanting the fuck out of his hold. When I move again, I feel something firm and thick between his thighs… “You’re hard.” Panic flashes in Troy’s eyes, which is the exact reaction I need. In that split second, I flip us, putting Troy beneath me, my hands holding down his wrists this time. “You’re hard,” I say again, and somehow, this new development has helped to temporarily mask my anger.
“I’m gay, and there’s a man practically humping me. What the fuck did you think would happen?”
I don’t mention the fact that there’s a little action going on in my jeans too. I’m not sure what I think about it, but I’m also not the type to get all introspective about it either. I have enough going on in my head without worrying too much about what does or doesn’t get me hard.
“You thinking about the blowjob that’s never going to happen?” I ask, looking down at him.
“Fucking asshole!” A twinge of guilt twists in my chest, but then he says, “And you are going to blow me, and you’re going to like it.”
The fantasy jerk-off session flashes in my head again, distracting me, and Troy takes advantage, bucking and almost throwing me off him. We wrestle again, and he ends up on top.
“This is what I get for trying to be nice to you? You fighting me?” As I struggle to get out from beneath him, his abs rub against my dick, and we both still.
“You’re… Why are you…”
I’m hard as a steel post from my stepbrother. Troy’s face is close to mine, both of us still frozen before he inhales a deep breath. My heart is beating a million miles a minute because first the dream, and now this, and—
“Troy! Atlas! It’s time for cake,” comes Glen’s angry voice from the hallway.
We both fumble getting away from each other, and somehow tumble to the floor just as Glen comes in. He takes in the mess, the broken lamp, fire in his gaze. “You’re fighting? What the fuck is wrong with you, Atlas?”
Because of course it’s my fault. It’s always my fault.
“Get this mess cleaned up, and then get your asses downstairs for cake. Don’t ruin this day for Ellie.”
And for whatever the fuck reason, we both do as he says, neither of us saying a word or looking at each other the whole time.
Glen watches and then escorts us downstairs, a fake smile plastered in place. “Video games.” Glen playfully rolls his eyes as if he’s sayingsilly boys.
I make it through singing “Happy Birthday” and dishing out cake and ice cream, but I don’t eat any, and the second that part is done, I leave. This day has been enough of a mindfuck, and I don’t think I can handle another second of it.
11
Troy
Ash and Isit at the desk in my room. When he showed up, he pulled his swivel chair in with him, something that’s become part of our routine since he started tutoring me for Thermo. I was curious to see how it would work out, if Ash might be too flirtatious to make studying possible, but it hasn’t been an issue. He’ll bat his pretty lashes or scoot a little closer to me, but as we’ve struggled through my confusion and misapprehensions around the concepts, our discussions or straight-up arguments have surely made me lose some of my appeal to him. He’s a sexy guy; don’t get me wrong. But I’ve never felt anything toward him, and I’m sure Colin is thrilled about that.
While he grades my latest practice test, I pull Instagram up on my phone and peruse my feed.
This’ll be the fourth practice test he’s given me since we started studying together, and I only have a week until the actual test. I’m doing better than when we started this, but still no touchdown. Certainly not doing well enough to guarantee a BJ.
While I’m on Instagram, without thinking much about it, I pull up Atlas’s profile.
He’s got some photos with his friends, hanging out and playing video games. There are a few of interesting finds at the metal yard. And others of places around town. The most recent is from the Alpha Theta Mu party he crashed. I think about how I smoothed things over with Marty and some of the other guys:“He’s my stepbrother. He’s not going to be a problem this year, I promise.”Saying things I didn’t believe.
I zoom in to Atlas’s mouth—the subtle arches of his upper lip, the full bottom lip that gives him that sexy, pouty look.
Why the fuck am I zooming in to my stepbrother’s mouth?
Even if I do win this bet, it’s not like he’s actually going to blow me with it.
Is he?
I consider the hard-on he had at our parents’ place. That could have been anything. Hell, I’ve had rage boners just from watching the Vols lose a game, so I know getting an erection doesn’t have to mean anything. Although, I don’t have any excuse for whyIgot so hard while we were wrestling around.
Everything happened so fast, and before I knew it, he was on top of me. The tension, the heat, our bodies pressed against each other as we gazed into each other’s eyes…
It was my fault he was hurting. I shouldn’t have told him what Margot said. I should have lied, though I would have hated myself for lying to him.
