M/M- Ripped (Boys Of Summer) (6 page)

Erik lifted, his hand still working the base with firm strokes. “It’s a fantasy. I’m sure you have fantasies in your kink land.”

Gavin had had a lot of hand jobs and none felt like this, the caress of Erik’s hand more than intense enough to get him off. Erik was making love to him with his hand. Fuck if Gavin knew
that
was possible. Pleasure built and swirled in Gavin’s stomach, stretching up his torso, along his limbs, and hope joined the mix. This pleasure would cut the pain. He knew it.

“I have fantasies.” Not normal ones, though.

“Then tell me one while I suck you.”

Gavin froze. His fantasies weren’t kinky. His fantasies were sick and cruel, though he focused on only one this time of the year. “You don’t want to hear them.”

“Try me.”

Shit
. The need to bare his soul grew greater than the need to be silent. He trusted Erik. The silence was slowly killing him. “Can I share something that’s not…sexy?”

His dick popped free again. “Your blowjob.”

“You’re going to think this is sick.”
And Erik would leave.

“Gavin, I don’t think anything you can say beyond realizing you are a kinky, gay, fuck god is going to blow my mind. Now quit bugging me.”

Gavin closed his eyes and swallowed, because this
was
sick. But he needed to tell him, now, so Erik could kill the pain. “It’s dark, I’m driving Angela, and I’m not angry.”

Erik’s hand on Gavin’s cock tightened, and his mouth stilled. Gavin shuddered. He’d leave. Instead, Erik began the sweet torture again, sucking the tip, laving him with his tongue.

And Gavin sank into hell.

“I’m happy. I’m glad I got to her before mom and dad did. I’m glad because, for once, I’ll be the only screw up. I’m not pissed that she’s high and I’m not. She no longer reeks of booze and sex. I’m glad they didn’t catch her, and I could save her from…” He squeezed his eyes shut, the stabbing pain stronger than the pleasure.

Erik lifted his head. “Tell me,” he ordered, his voice deep, husky. Then he returned to his task in earnest, sucking Gavin deep again.

Gavin relaxed, focusing on the pleasure. “I’ll save her from my dad’s anger. No fists. No belt. She won’t need to feel two inches tall and need to fuck everything in sight to think she’s loved. Like I did.”

Erik made a muffled noise that vibrated around his cock. Gavin slid one hand to the back of Erik’s head, loving the feel of his hair. The deep suction, Erik’s hand wrapped at the base, sucking as if he could take the evil away, straight from his cock. Gavin felt the strength, the conviction.

Gavin believed, this once, he was safe.

“You know what I tell her now? I’ll quit school and we’ll live together. I’ll fight for her. I’ll stand up and take custody or whatever needs to happen. I won’t let them ruin her life, like they did mine.”

Erik shifted, adding his other hand to Gavin’s balls, massaging the tightening pressure. Fucking weak shit, needing this. But he couldn’t stop it any more than he could stop the tides.

“And this time, when she begs me to go see her dealer, I’ll tell her no. I’ll tell her she’s done her last line. I’ll lock the god damned door on her and handcuff her to the seat so she can’t jump out if I don’t go. And we’ll miss that drunk driver, Erik. Because that drunk driver was her drunk, coked-up dealer, cresting the hill way too fast.”

The noise Erik made was strangled, a deep, pulsing rumble he felt through his cock, down to his toes. He’d never told anyone any of this. Never. So sick to tell Erik this now, but he had to. His own, private fantasy from hell. It was the only thing that gave him peace.

“I’d take her to my place afterward, instead of home, and you’d be there. In my dreams, we live in that little cottage down by the beach, the one by the wharf.”

Erik moaned, as if answering that he knew. He increased the tempo of his hand stroking at the base, his grip harder.

Gavin’s orgasm grew because he was a sick fuck, because he was reaching bliss in his mind. He’d jacked off every anniversary to this part. The peaceful, happy part. “You’d take her into the kitchen, and we’d calm her down together, and we’d tell her tomorrow would be a new day. We’d make her shower the booze off her and tuck her into our guest room, all clean and new.”

So close. Gavin’s balls tightened, and as if Erik knew what he needed, his finger slid into his mouth alongside Gavin’s cock. Erik gathered moisture from the shower and, a moment later, probed Gavin’s ass, slipping through the tight muscle to bury home. That finger probed and found the sweet spot, the one Gavin needed so desperately. It was enough to finish.

“Then I’d take you to bed, Erik. And I would handcuff you and make love to you. Gentle, sweet love. I’d call out your name when I came…”

Gavin gave over to the bliss, the peace, and shuddered.

“Erik.” He stiffened and came deep in the back of Erik’s throat. Erik swallowed, the contractions of his mouth and throat drinking Gavin in balls-deep. So good. But it was more than the act, the way Erik caressed him, the way he moaned his approval around his throbbing shaft. “Erik,” he choked out, overcome by the dueling emotions.

Gavin moaned Erik’s name, over and over, and this time, the hands that caressed him were real. Erik’s tongue lashed him, his lips milking every inch of pleasure, drawing out the evil. God,
Erik
.

When Erik released him, Gavin closed his eyes and sank to the floor, under the spray, his arms around his knees. Weak, fucking shit. But the pain was gone. He felt the peace and, in that spot, he could feel Angela again.

Gavin waited for Erik to leave. He pressed his cheek to the clammy tile on the wall, lukewarm water streaming down his face, his body, his legs, swirling down the drain.

But Erik slid over on the floor of the shower and wrapped his arms around Gavin’s shoulders, pulling him to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Gav. So, so sorry,” he whispered.

He shuddered, relieved. “I’m a weak fucking shit.”

“You should have told me. Jesus, Gavin.” Erik kissed his forehead, his temple, the shower raining down, washing what few tears Gavin had left in him away. You got hit for crying.

Erik held him closer, his grip fierce, as if Gavin were going to wash down the drain with the memories.

“Weak.”

“You’re alive. You’re clean. You’re sober. You
are
strong, Gavin. Superhero strong.” Erik tilted his chin and kissed him, a soft, gentle kiss that tasted of Gavin’s essence, salty, musky but so right to be on Erik’s lips. It tasted safe. “Let’s finish and go to bed.”

“You can leave.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“That’s what Angela said.” Gavin curled deeper into a ball, wishing the drain would take him away, too. “And then she died.”

****

Somehow, Erik got Gavin to stand and finish his shower. Somehow, he got Gavin toweled off and tucked into the master bedroom, ignoring Gavin’s quiet commands for him to leave. There’d be a better chance of corn growing in Arctic ice than Erik leaving.

Erik slipped in behind Gavin in his big, king-size bed and held him close, pressing his stomach to Gavin’s hard back, wrapping his arms around Gavin’s waist. “Go to sleep, Gav. I’m not leaving.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, gave a huge, shuddering sigh, and then his breathing quieted. As if Erik’s promise that he wouldn’t leave was all it took to send him off to slumberland.

Erik never knew Gavin was that fucked up. Yeah, he knew some, but Gavin had never shared that much, as if the secret hell he’d lived in was keeping him bound by the tethers of truth. Erik had never liked Gavin’s parents and in return they’d never liked him. Angela had been shy but nice.

They’d spent most of their time at Erik’s house as kids, where it had been boring, creepy normal in a 50’s sitcom way. He always wondered how Gavin could like the boring and normal, right down to relishing the chores Erik had to do. Gavin had chores, too, but he never wanted to do them. He never wanted to go home.

Angela had been fucked up, too. A big surprise there. She had looked like a miniature, female Gavin, a straight-A student, scholarship opportunities out the ying-yang. Her parents had doted on her. Now he knew the truth. Whatever evil lurked at home steered them both into the only way they’d learned to cope. Drinking. Drugs. Sex.

Gavin’s dad drank too much. Erik learned this at a young age because Gavin had been afraid to go home and Gavin’s dad had come for him, staggering, smelling of beer. Gavin had trembled, casting Erik a wistful look as if wishing he could stay forever. Gavin had never talked about his dad’s drinking problem. Never. But he also never went home unless he had to, which maybe explained why boring was so sweet to Gavin. Boring didn’t drink.

Then Angela died and Gavin moved out, got clean, and never went back. That didn’t mean they didn’t try to lord over him. They tried, big time. And Gavin painted to escape.

Erik curled around Gavin and held him tight, vowing to be what Gavin needed him to be to get through this. Maybe they couldn’t have the end of the fantasy, but he didn’t have to suffer.

Erik felt a little guilty, though. A month ago, he’d decided to go to California in the fall and live with his uncle. He could work from anywhere. He had money to make the move and, at the time he’d made the decision, Gavin was barely speaking to him. And though he had worried, Gavin had seemed to be surviving okay without him, holding his own. Erik moving wouldn’t have been much of a blip on his radar.

Now Erik wasn’t so sure. He also wasn’t sure if he was man enough to be what Gavin needed.

“I won’t leave you, Gav. Not tonight,” Erik whispered. He kissed Gavin’s shoulder and closed his eyes, hoping tomorrow would be better.

Chapter Four

Gavin woke feeling as if a freight train had chugged through his head and over his body. Sunlight streamed under the blinds, hitting him square in the eyes. He groaned, warmer than usual, the bed way smaller than usual.

He cast a hand over his back and felt a warm body, the skin soft yet hairy. Eyes closed, he remembered everything—Erik, loving Erik, telling Erik his deepest, sickest fantasy.

He rolled. Erik was still here, snuggled under the sheet, drooling on his pillow. Gavin smiled at that. So normal, and something he didn’t know about his friend.

Erik stirred and opened one hazel eye. “Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey,” Gavin said softly. Man, what Erik did to him, even half-asleep. Desire floated up, making him want to turn Erik over and slip in behind, to explore every waking inch of him.

“Not polite to stare,” Erik mumbled.

“You drool.”

“You snore. I doubt my drooling kept you awake.” Erik rubbed his eyes and smiled. “You okay? You survived. Sober. Clean.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin hesitated. “I said stuff.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m not normal.”

Erik stretched. “No fucking shit.”

At least he was honest. “You hate me?”

Erik arched a brow. “Only because you look damned fine after all that. You should look like something the neighbor’s cat dragged back from hell. You don’t,” Erik accused. “You look fucking hot.”

To know Erik found him hot…Gavin’s skin flushed all over. “I feel like something the cat dragged back.”

Erik shrugged and stretched again. “I hate cats.”

Gavin had to laugh, loving Erik even more. “Me, too.”

Erik shifted to his side, propping his head up with a hand. He let his other hand stray to caress Gavin’s shoulder. “We gonna talk about this?”

Gavin hesitated. He should talk about it, but the dread came back, sinking into his stomach, making it churn. “No.” But that was weak. “Someday?”