Hunter scraped his hands through Steve’s hair, positioning his head. He listened to the way that made Steve moan. He pumped into Steve’s mouth, slow and hard and steady.
Steve was still in what he’d worn to sleep, looking crumpled, stubbly, and sleep-worn. His face as he blew Hunter was gorgeous—cheeks and the top of his chest ruddy with a blush. His dick was tenting the front of his shorts.
And even though Hunter had used a lot of guys like this—and yeah, it had been “used”, but that didn’t mean the guys hadn’t enjoyed it—he’d never really wanted it before.
Everyone Hunter hooked up with wanted him to top them—not just in bed, but in damn near everything. They wanted him to think for them and act for them. And it was easy enough to do, but Hunter always felt like they were taking.
He knew some of the guys on campus thought he was a dick for treating the guys the way he did. But Hunter knew people. Shit, he probably knew them better than they knew themselves. Every last person he’d fucked and then dissed had been asking for exactly that.
Service top. He’d never thought of himself that way before, but that was how most guys made him feel. Like sex was a job as much as politics. And his role was given to him at birth and he didn’t have any choice.
He made Hunter want to be that guy. Not the guy who was a douche to dudes that blew him, but the one who could make a guy lose it completely. Because Hunter could do that. He was good at it, even though he’d never actively tried. And it certainly wasn’t his sexual prowess. Being with Steve had taught him that. Hunter was nowhere near as good in bed as Steve was.
But being a top wasn’t always about skill, no more than being a leader was.
Hunter clutched a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled him off. Steve looked up at him with dark, desperate eyes. His mouth wet and open. And Hunter didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to fuck you now. Before my shower.”
“And we’re not stopping. So you might want to get that thought out of your head right now.”
Steve’s nostrils flared on a sharp breath, but he nodded.
“Shorts off, on the bed, on your back. Touch your dick, and I won’t fuck you.”
“You’re forgetting who I am.” Hunter stood and grabbed his orange juice off the counter. Pulp stuck to the sides of the glass as if it were fresh squeezed. “There’s no one I can’t control.”
Gabe opened the door, and all Nick saw was his eyes. They were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. And Nick didn’t care, because he shoved Gabe up to the wall. He didn’t kiss him, just ripped his shirt up over his head and then shoved his pants down his legs.
Gabe’s cock was iron hard and batted Nick’s hip.
Nick spun Gabe around, then reached between Gabe’s legs and found that his rim was wet and supple, like he’d been getting ready the whole time Nick was gone. Nick tugged open his button fly and got his jeans out of the way. He’d never been happier that they’d already talked it through and decided not to use condoms. Nick was practically a virgin, and Gabe had gotten tested at the start of the school year. Nick had been surprised, and kind of pleased, when he learned Gabe hadn’t had sex since the previous year.
With rough hands he fit his cap to Gabe’s hole and, after a moment of hesitation, shoved upward.
Gabe grunted. He grabbed his cock, while with the other hand he braced himself against the wall.
His dick buried deep, Nick rested his forehead on Gabe’s shoulder. Just for a second, he allowed himself to imagine that it was another man he was touching, that it was John’s body he was pressed up against.
He pictured John shirtless, running down the football field, laughing and throwing a pass that Nick was running to catch. He envisioned John’s face late at night during one of their sleepovers, when they’d whisper secrets. And finally, as he started thrusting, he tried to imagine John’s grin as he opened his pants.
And Nick found he couldn’t.
He pulled almost all the way out and then speared inside again, trying to force with his body an image his mind couldn’t conjure—a John who might have been his lover.
Nick shuddered, his eyes welling with tears. He couldn’t believe he was going to cry with his cock buried in Gabe’s ass—but he couldn’t think about John anymore, not even since Gabe had asked him to. “Gabe…” Nick touched his shoulder, thinking maybe they should stop.
“Shhhh…” Gabe took Nick’s hand and pulled it lower.
Nick felt the sweat on Gabe’s belly, then the crisp hair of his groin. Finally, he felt Gabe’s cock in his hand. And it felt so right, Nick’s heart hurt.
He pumped forward, feeling the answer of Gabe sliding through his fingers. Gabe was hard and his cap was wet. Thinking about it made Nick’s mouth water, and he rolled his hips. This time, when Nick reached the hilt, Gabe mewled. “Damn.”
“Yeah.” Nick thrust into him harder. He didn’t let go of Gabe’s dick. He felt like if he did, something would break between them. The pair of them moved in time, connected on every level. And when they neared the end, Nick slowed his strokes, trying to keep them in that place where they were both high on the need to climax and balanced on the razor’s edge.
He rested his forehead on Gabe’s shoulder, his whole body wracked with feeling. “Fuck, Gabe. How do you always know?”
Gabe cocked his head around for a messy kiss. When he broke away, he breathed, “Did I ever tell you about my superpower?”
Nick chuckled, and it only brought him that much closer to coming. “No.”
“Well…” Gabe let out a moan and then put his hand on top of Nick’s. Gabe worked Nick’s hand in harder strokes. “Fuck. I’ll tell you later.” He whistled his breaths while Nick worked him, and then Gabe shouted and his cum coated Nick’s hand.