Rock Rod 3 (3 page)

Alex's hand goes to his mouth.

A large man shouts at Peter, telling him to stop crying. He says other things, things about Peter's ass and his mouth, but they don't sound sexy to Alex the way dirty talk usually does.

Because Peter's face is all twisted up with sobs, and he doesn't look needy or even lost. He looks frightened. Peter's arms tense up as he tugs at his bindings. When the camera angle changes, Alex can see more ropes crisscrossing his torso.

"What I need you to understand is that the other performer is a very talented Dom," Miranda says. "We have boys fly in from all over the United States to shoot with him. This wasn't Peter's first scene with him." Her unspoken message is clear: It was definitely his last.

"He's hurting Peter," Alex manages to say.

"Peter loves to be hurt, Alex. And if you plan on dating him, that's something you're going to have to recognize, even if you don't understand it."

"I know. He told me. Sort of." Alex shakes his head, looking away for a moment. "But that doesn't look like good hurt. That looks like bad hurt."

"Most of the time to an outsider, it's impossible to tell the difference. In this case you're right though." Miranda pauses the video and looks at him. "You understand what a safeword is?"

"Yeah," Alex says. Safewords are one of the first things that come up every time he spends a few minutes searching for BDSM on his phone before chickening out over the number of conflicting, strong, super horny feelings that well up.

"Peter had a safeword. He always does. He didn't use it." Miranda draws in an audible breath and sighs. "He didn't safeword out when he started losing focus, and his mind went somewhere else. Somewhere bad, obviously. Thankfully Lucas is very experienced and safeworded out when he recognized Peter's distress."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alex asks, trying not to look at the paused screen. Peter's face is blurry but contorted with pain and it's the worst thing Alex has ever seen. He feels sick.

"Because I'm going to let him back in front of the camera soon."

"After that?" Alex's voice gets way too loud. "No way!"

She leans in, bumping her arm against his. "That was months ago. He's been doing the work. And he's not going to like this, but I'm not going to let him scene like that right away. I need to see level-headed behavior on camera for a while before he's allowed to go that deep."

"So it won't be that kind of thing? The yelling and the ropes?"

Miranda grins. "No. Not the yelling and the ropes. Knowing Peter he'll be craving assplay. I'll make sure we're gentle with him while he ramps back up."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me," Alex says.

"Well, that's the thing." Miranda pats his knee. "I want you to fuck Peter. On camera."

***

The door to Miranda's office bursts open before Alex can make sense of his upset erection.

"Shit," Cory says. "Sorry about that. I didn’t know you had somebody in here." She glances at the computer screen. "Oh man, you're showing him the bad thing?"

Alex can't make words because his gym shorts aren't doing much to hide his stubborn boner and he looks like an idiot trying to rest his arms just right to camouflage it. He still feels terrible but his dick doesn't feel terrible about becoming friends with Peter's glorious ass.

"I was just finishing it up," Miranda says.

Cory shudders. "That was a terrible day. Anyway, I need you to come sign for packages." She gives a little eyebrow wiggle.

"The fuckmachine?" Miranda asks, already scrambling up to stand in a blur of color.

"The fuckmachine. Is. Here." Cory claps like a kid on Christmas morning. "Can I see it? Can I see it?"

"Alex, duty calls," Miranda says, ruffling his hair as she walks by. "I'll call you in a few days. Think about it."

"She means a fuckmachine calls." Cory lingers in the doorway. Her face has gone all pink with excitement and it's cute but also really maniacal. "Four strokes per second. Linear motion continuous duty motor. Vac-u-lock adaptor. God. This is the best day ever."

"Alex!" Miranda calls from the hallway. "Try not to nail Peter until you both have a chance to think about it. Yeah?"

Alex stares at her open netbook and then back at the open door and then down at the sad tent in his lap. He has no shortage of things to think about.

***

Alex texts Peter to see if he's home. It's a good damn thing he is, because by the time Alex gets a ride over there, he's in desperate need of a hug.

"Whoa," Peter says, holding the door open quickly to let him in. "What happened?"

"Miranda showed me the bad thing and offered me another job and a sex robot showed up in the mail," Alex says, running both hands back through his hair as he paces across Peter's small living room. He absently kicks his sneakers off and collapses onto Peter's couch in a heap.

Peter's cat gives him a dirty look and darts away, leaving a small cloud of hair behind.

"She's a busybody," Peter says, sinking onto the couch beside him. He's shirtless, and the pretty colors of his tattoo and the prettier lines of his chest and abs are unfairly distracting.

Alex lets his head drop back against Peter's shoulder. "Why aren't you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"If someone showed random people really personal stuff about me, I'd be pissed."

"Well, first of all. You showed countless random people your ass being penetrated by a thick cock." Peter kisses his hairline. "Also, you're not random. It's not like Miranda showed the mailman some of my porn."

Alex sits up to look at him. Not being random feels good. But he isn't convinced that this isn't terrible. "You were so upset."

"That's an understatement." Peter laughs, not sounding very amused. "I completely freaked out."

Alex frowns, a ball of worry cold and heavy in his gut.

Peter’s stern expression is mostly really cute. "Don't give me that look."

"What happened?" Alex asks, knowing he probably shouldn't. Except Miranda said talking was a thing they needed to do.

"Uh." Peter opens and closes his mouth and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Wow. Heavy shit for a Saturday afternoon, isn't it?"

"Yes." Alex hopes his tone makes it clear that he's agreeing but not letting Peter deflect.

Peter sighs and looks down. He plucks at a fold in Alex's gym shorts. "What I do at Rock Rod... it's really important to me. It grounds me, and I don't think that's abnormal. I mean, runners torture themselves to run marathons and people go to the gym at four in the morning."

"I don't think it's abnormal. You don't have to explain."

"But I know you think it's bad for me if you watched that tape."

Alex catches Peter’s hand cautiously, twining their fingers together. It feels shockingly intimate. His heart beats faster. "I don't think it's bad for you. I don't really understand it exactly, not the hurt part. But I think I understand a little bit like the... being good part. If that makes sense."

"It does," Peter says softly, watching their hands. "I was in a really shitty place before I met Miranda. I'm probably in a medium shitty place right now. I go to therapy. I go to meetings. I feel like a hot mess talking to someone like you."

"I don't want to go there again," Alex says, already bristling wondering who exactly he’s supposed to be.

Peter looks up, his eyes wet behind the glare on his glasses. "I hang out with people like me. And work with people like me. And I fuck nice, normal people sometimes. But I don't talk to them. Or fucking get... attached." He takes a sharp breath. "Believe it or not I kind of wish I was normal, you know? Not want the things I want or have the fucking... shitty things. That I can't handle sometimes."

It's more than Peter's ever said to him at once. Peter's throat is splotchy and flushed and his eyes are red, but he isn't crying. He's just upset. It vibrates through his whole body.

Alex remembers what Miranda said Peter wanted. Assplay. He isn't super sure exactly what that means but he has an inkling.

"Do you have lube here?" he asks.

Peter makes a wet sound that's almost a laugh. "Random. But yeah, like four different kinds."

"Can I finger uh... bang you?"

A shiver runs through Peter. "Oh." He swallows. "Yes. Sure. Let me rinse off though."

Alex follows him to the bathroom, feeling weirdly like he doesn't want to let him out of his sight. Then he feels like a creeper watching Peter undress in the bathroom and looks away anyway.

Peter snorts. "Alex." He pushes his jeans down just as Alex looks back. He's half-hard and his body is so pretty—sleek and muscular. He has more hair on his body than Alex does. He's beautiful.

"Sorry, I just, you know. Didn't mean to stare."

"I like it when you stare. Makes those trips to the gym worth it."

"Not at 4am, right?" Alex says.

Peter makes a face. "Actually yes, sometimes. The campus one is open twenty-four hours and when I can't sleep I might as well work on my bod." He turns the water on and steps into the spray immediately, hissing out a breath at what must be really cold water.

Really, really cold water by the look of his nipples.

Alex steps further into the bathroom and stands at the gap Peter leaves in the shower curtain. He aches to get naked and climb in with him, but watching sends a hot rush of anticipation through him that's almost as good as touching Peter.

"I'm glad you're not normal," Alex says.

Peter soaps up his hands with bar soap and starts washing his ass crack vigorously. "Yeah?"

"I mean, I'm not glad you have things that make you feel bad. But there's nothing about you I don't like. I like you."

"Warts and all?"

"Um not if they're genital warts," Alex says, laughing.

Peter splashes water at him. "Dick."

Alex can't shake the tightness in his chest from listening to Peter talk about feeling broken, but he's pretty sure they can't talk it out anymore. He needs to show him that he doesn't think Peter's broken, and maybe he can make him feel better by doing the things that make him feel good.

Or maybe this is going to go spectacularly wrong. But either way he can't turn back now. Even worried about Peter, he's horny as fuck thinking about getting his fingers in Peter's body.

And Peter's already hard, washing his cock with soapy, tight strokes. His eyes close in the spray and he lets out a low moan.

"Don't come," Alex says.

Peter stops and stares at him. "What?"

"Don't come yet. Not until I say." Alex grins, thinking it'll make it more fun that way. But Peter nods like Alex is dead serious and takes his hand off his cock.

"Yes." Peter wrinkles his nose. "Okay."

He doesn't spend much time toweling off afterwards, mostly because Alex doesn't let him. He's too busy smoothing his hands all over Peter's wet body, scraping the water off with the blade of his hand.

Alex drops to his knees, taking the towel and drying Peter's legs, and then he can't help himself. His mouth goes wet and he noses right at Peter's cleft, tongue first, needing to know what he feels like there.

"Holy fuck, Alex," Peter says grabbing onto his bathroom counter for balance. He lets out a low groan and widens his stance and bends over a little. "Ah!"

Dropping the towel, Alex uses his hands to grab at Peter's muscled ass, spreading him open. He pulls back enough to look, staring at the tight clench and the shiny skin at his hole, and then he closes his eyes and kisses him there, sucking and stroking his tongue wildly.

"This is okay, right?" Alex thinks to ask, his mouth against Peter's skin.

"It’s definitely okay." Peter shudders. "One hundred percent okay.'

Fueled by Peter's enthusiastic consent, Alex slows down and savors it. He runs his tongue from Peter's balls up the hard skin above them to the soft skin at his hole. When he makes his tongue stiff, he can get it inside just a little. But that makes his jaw ache, so he goes back to licking—over and over. Each lick makes Peter moan, and each moan sends a spike of pride through Alex.

"I was told there'd be fingerbanging," Peter says, his voice strangled and wet. He opens the drawer at his bathroom counter clumsily, knocking a deodorant and a toothbrush to the floor before a half-empty bottle of lube falls with a hollow thump.

Grinning, Alex wipes his mouth and stands up. He can't help rubbing his cock against Peter's ass, his thin gym shorts too slippery to provide enough friction. But it feels awesome standing behind Peter and imagining fucking him. Really fucking him.

In the mirror, Peter's face is flushed and his hair looks wild, drying in spikes and loose curls. He looks up and meet Alex's gaze. "You don't have to go easy," he says.

"What if I want to go easy?" It's Alex’s first time playing with somebody's asshole. He wants to relish it.

Peter's eyes flutter closed and he nods.

The weight of responsibility is there again, reminding Alex how much trust he's put in everyone who's touched him and penetrated him. Peter needs him to be that now, and maybe more.

"How much do I use?" he asks, flipping the cap open with his thumb.

"Enough to get your fingers really slick. You can add more later if you need it," Peter says. He opens his legs more and bends over the counter. His hips rock, just barely, like he's miming being fucked. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it. It's gorgeous.

Alex squeezes a glob of lube right onto Peter's crack, watching it slide down to his hole. He smears it around there and smears it onto his fingers too. It's insanely slippery. Way more slippery than lotion. Slippery like a girl.

"You look hot," Alex says. He isn't trying to talk dirty or anything, but fuck. This is the sexiest thing he's ever seen. He squirts more lube onto his fingers for good measure and puts the bottle down on the counter.

Peter drops his head against his arms and makes a sound that might be laughter or might be moaning.

It's so easy to push his finger into Peter's hole. After the initial tightness, he just opens up. He's scalding hot inside and buttery soft.