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“So you get it.” A lot of Dustin’s ire fled. “I just don’t want to be a thing. Don’t want people treating me differently.”
“It’s more about how you treat you. And I think the difference here is that I don’t beat myself up for being gay. Or liking kink. You spend a lot of time beating yourself up, and I hate that. You’re too good a guy for that.”
Dustin’s eyes burned. He wanted to be that guy for Wes, wanted to be braver, not give a fuck what people thought. “Yeah.” Hating the emotions swamping him, he cleared his throat. “You know what really sucks? Dylan’s giving them two ready-made grandkids, and I still feel this stupid pressure.”
“Maybe the pressure’s not coming from them?” Wes’s question was as gentle and warm as a towel fresh from the dryer, and Dustin wanted to wrap himself in it, ignore the reality of what Wes was saying, which was all true. No one was harder on Dustin than himself, but he just didn’t know how to stop.
“Maybe.” Dustin groaned. Why wasn’t Wes here where he could bury his face in Wes’s neck, breathe in his scent? “God, I hate this phone.”
“Wanna ditch it?” Wes’s eyebrows went up. “It’s late, but—”
“We can’t.”
“I know.” Wes slumped back down against his pillows. “Probably shouldn’t be calling.”
“Probably.” Dustin rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Definitely shouldn’t tell you the kinky dream I had last night.” Wes’s grin was downright wicked, and plenty welcome after the heavy talk about his family and coming out.
“You shouldn’t,” Dustin agreed, but there was no real force behind the words.
“Really shouldn’t tell you to take off your shirt if you want me to tell you.”
I’m already screwed. Dustin set the phone down long enough to pull off his shirt. “There. Not sure why I have to be shirtless for you to talk though.”
“One, I appreciate the view.” Wes winked at the camera. “Two, in the dream, I was torturing your nipples. Had you all tied up. Love how sensitive you are there.”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Dustin’s cock went from mildly interested to rock hard in five seconds flat, straining against his fly. He might beat himself up about liking pain and being restrained, but he couldn’t deny how his body responded to the slightest suggestion.
“Can you pinch one for me? Nice and hard. You do it good enough, and I’ll tell you the rest.”
Dustin did it, tweaking his nipple hard enough to gasp. It wasn’t the same as when Wes’s talented fingers were on him, but it was still a rush of pain and sensation. “Tell me.”
“You tied to the bed, clamps on your nipples. Me eating your ass until you were moaning for me to fuck you. Woke up rock hard at that point. I had to rub one out quickly before leaving for the airport. Damn you.” Wes’s laugh was at odds with his red-hot imagery.
“I never... That is, it’s never come up...”
“Never been rimmed?” Wes’s voice was seductive and soft. “I can make you love it. Same as fucking. You’ll go nuts for it.”
Of that, Dustin had little doubt. His hand left his nipple, going to his zipper. Snick. The sound echoed through his empty room as he drew his cock out.
“Did I say you could touch your cock?” Wes raised his eyebrows, expression going harsh and commanding and making Dustin’s dick pulse.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Pinch yourself again first. Let me hear it.”
Dustin twisted his nipple, pulling it enough to burn. “Fuck. Hurts.”
“I know. And you love telling me, don’t you?” Wes’s laugh was full of sin.
“Yes.” Dustin panted as he continued to pluck at his nipple. “God, it hurts. Want you to make it hurt more.”
“Oh I will,” Wes said darkly. “You need it tonight, don’t you? We both do.”
“Yes, need you.” The burn from his nipple spread over his chest, snaked down to his dick, every bit as enticing as a hand on him. “Hurts. Wish it was you.”
“Me fucking too. I’d torture you so good right now. Make you wait to come.”
“Yes. Please let me touch my cock,” he begged. “I won’t come. Not yet.”
“Not till I say so.” Wes moved the phone, giving Dustin a familiar view of his abs and hard cock. “But me? I get to touch right now.” Wes’s fist came down, started stroking his cock. “Keep twisting that nipple, baby. Make it sting.”
“You gonna come?” Dustin’s breath came in little huffs as he complied.
“I should, shouldn’t I? Get off first before I let you come.” Wes’s hand sped up.
“Yeah. Do it.” Dustin liked the novelty of that—Wes almost always waited until after Dustin came, his own orgasm almost like an afterthought once he was done teasing Dustin. Which was intoxicating, being the focus of his attention like that, but it was also breathtaking to watch Wes give in to his pleasure for once.
