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“I love how responsive you are to me,” he breathes into my open mouth, moving to suck bruises on my jaw. “This is okay? You aren’t…?” He drops his face into my shoulder. “You aren’t doing this just because I want it, are you?”
I shake my head, then realizing he can’t see me, massage my fingers into the back of his neck. “I want it because you want it if that makes any sense. Your arousal feeds mine. If I need to stop, I’ll tell you.”
His hips shift, and then his hot, throbbing length bounces against mine. My gasp earns me a grin, Blair pulling back just enough so we can both see our erections straining together. Then he wraps a fist around them and it’s like I become a puddle of pleasure.
“I told you how much I wanted this. Remember?” That smile lights a spark in my soul, a memory in the gym showers of that phone call with B.
Blair steps back, wrapping one hand around each of our dicks and stroking mine until a pool of precum leaks from the tip, then he presses the deep red head of his cock up against mine and catches the precum in his pinched open slit.
The sight is so erotic that I choke on my own spit, and I have to cover my eyes on a heavy groan when he grinds his palm onto our tips, thrusting forward to drag the ball of his piercing along my shaft.
“Fuck,” I bite out as he repeats the pattern: squeeze, grind, tease me with the barbell. Over and over until my legs shake, until he’s covered my neck and chest in hickeys. Until his own breathing becomes a wrecked, jagged mess against my skin and his hips rutting into mine lose their rhythm.
I want to fuck my cock on yours until I coat it in cum.
“Blair.” He’s gripping the top of the stall door with one hand, holding himself up as the other shuttles over our cocks. “B.” He presses his face into my neck, moaning and panting and threatening to send me over the edge with every ripple and shudder of his muscles under my fingertips. “Bumble B.”
He chokes on a gasp, and then his body stills and hot cum spills from his dick onto mine. He doesn’t just let it drip, he works that shit over my shaft ignoring the aftershocks wracking his frame.
The stickiness spreads across our stomachs as he presses in close, chest heaving like he just ran a marathon. His nose travels up my neck to my ear, his panted breaths aiding the flush spreading across my body to warm me.
“Can I suck you off?” he asks, and even though my dick jumps in response, he waits for a verbal confirmation before making any moves.
“Please?” Because I remember how this scenario played out in my head, and kissing a well satisfied, boneless Blair until he’s breathless is now at the top of my to-do list.
He drops down, his spent dick twitching between his spread thighs, and I almost wish I had been a more active participant in his orgasm, but there’s nothing but satisfaction and desire reflecting in his eyes as he regards my dick like it’s a treasure.
His mouth is on me again, specks of white dotting the corners of his mouth as he licks his own cum from my shaft. There’s nothing slow or sweet about the way he works me, alternating between taking my cock deep and suckling on the head while his fist strokes me with fervor.
When he has to pull away to suck in a much needed breath, he rests his cheek on my thigh, staring up at me as he keeps pumping his fist.
“Atlas.” He doesn’t say anything else, but the pleading in his voice is enough. I know what he wants—and by the way my balls pull tight and my dick throbs—my body does too.
I nod and within seconds I’m buried in the back of his throat, his nose brushing my pubes, but it’s the shaky moan vibrating my dick and the trembling fingers that yank my hips forward that does me in.
I have to close my eyes because the sight of Blair pulling back just enough to taste my release as it pulses against his tongue is almost too much for my nervous system to take.
We both sit in the silence, Blair panting against my stomach while I catch my breath. As soon as I can move without my knees threatening to buckle, I drag him up with a tug on his ponytail, and he’s all too willing to follow my lead as I take his mouth in a scorching kiss, swirling my tongue through the taste of our collective orgasms.
It’s like Blair and I exist in our own pocket of reality, like B and A coming together in this moment cemented a galaxy of love and light that houses us both and provides us sanctuary.
The illusion shatters when the bathroom door swings open, and the outside world comes crashing in. I feel the heaviness settle in Blair’s bones, and I do my best to hold him up and hold him close before the panic or worry can take him over.
Footsteps tap on the tile floor, passing the sink, urinals, and other stalls until they come to a stop in front of ours. We’re both entirely naked, our shirts tossed in the corner and pants around our ankles. Now is not the time to talk down a confused drunk.
“Atlas?” The voice is tight, followed by a slight knock on the stall door. “Blair? I thought I saw you two come in here.”
Realization dawns for Blair at the same time it does for me: Shiloh.
“Shit.” Blair quickly shimmies his briefs and shorts back up his legs, tucking his dick away before helping me pull up my own. “Everything okay?” he croaks, face bright red and forehead growing clammy.
“Feel like I should be asking you two that.”
Blair’s panic seems to be hitting him full force, so I grab his face between both of my hands and pull him into a gentle kiss. He locks up the moment our mouths touch but gives in when I tilt his face a smidge to deepen it.
“I can hear you making out, you know?”
I don’t let him yank away even when his head jerks. I ease him back, swiping my thumb over his lip once we separate.
