Sunset Park (19 page)

“Raymond,” he uttered, eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Touch me,
please
.”

“Get your fucking pants down.”

The people outside hadn’t left, but a touch to his dick must have unplugged David’s sense of modesty because he was suddenly wiggling out of his pants and kicking them off. The heels of his shoes slammed into the dryer as he kicked them away. The reverberating sound was followed by the clatter of my belt buckle when I leaned against the dryer to kiss him again.

If it hadn’t been obvious that there was someone inside the laundry room already, the squeak of David’s thighs against the smooth surface of the dryer would have given us away. And I didn’t give one damn. The frisson of desire welling in my gut wouldn’t allow me to slow down. Hot tendrils of lust soared through me, and all at once I very keenly wanted to taste him. All of him. I took a step back, sank down to my haunches, and took his cock in my mouth.

“Oh
shit
,” David gasped. “Oh my fuck, yes….”

His hands clenched in my hair, and I sucked him like I knew what I was doing, mimicking things that had been done to me in the past, and sucking his meat the way I liked mine sucked. I hollowed my cheeks, bobbing my head, and felt his dick crest in the soft cushion of my cheek before I got him all down my throat.

It was sloppy and messy, but that only turned me on more. The smell and taste of him, hearing him curse and gasp and plead, all of it combined to make my dick throb until the unyielding fabric of my pants was a source of pain. I knelt on the floor, palming my dick with my free hand, and looked up. I was treated to the sight of his gaping mouth, flushed face; he looked completely lost in what I was doing to him, dazed and fixated at the same time.

I pulled away from him with a slurp, licked my lips, and slid my hands beneath his knees. Shoving him back onto the machine with his thighs pressed into his chest, I leaned forward again, and began tasting the rest of him. I sucked his balls in my mouth, licked his taint, and was gripping him with trembling hands by the time I was lapping his hole with my tongue.

Steady
ah, ah, ahhh
gasps fell from David’s lips, accompanied by the sound of his hand sliding roughly over his cock. I could feel the vibrations of his arm’s rough, repetitive motions as I bathed his hole with my saliva. He said something that sounded like
fuck me
, so I started screwing him with the pointed tip of my tongue.

“Fuck,” David hissed. “I’m—oh shit.”

He was unabashedly loud as he came. I rose from my crouch just in time to see him shoving up his own shirt as semen spurted from his slit and pooled on his stomach.

The sight had me ripping my pants open and pulling out my dick. I pumped it with the damp head pressed against his clenching hole, and I was seconds away from shoving past the tight ring when the rush of a coming ejaculation rocketed through me.

Our eyes locked as I braced one hand on the dryer and brought myself off, unloading all over his ass.

I stood there for several seconds, gasping for breath and trying to sort out the light show that had exploded behind my eyelids. I was only able to get myself in gear when footfalls sounded outside. Stepping back, I fixed my pants and watched as David pulled up his underwear. There was something indescribably satisfying about him having my jizz all over him until he got home.

“Get up. We got company.”

David groaned in protest but obeyed. He removed his sweater and used his undershirt to wipe the damp streaks on his stomach before tossing it and yanking the sweater on again. Once we were both dressed and it was clear that the nosy assholes who had listened in on our quickie were gone, David grabbed my hand.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I’m not. I won’t. I was just….” David’s eyes were huge in his face. “Just drunk and out of my mind,” he finished with a low, self-deprecating laugh.

He hadn’t been out of his mind. He’d been jealous, but it didn’t look like he was going to cop to that admission.

I shrugged and wet my lips, still tasting him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to fuck your friend. I was just horny. Now I’m not.”

“Okay.” David pulled on his sweater again. “Everything is fine, right? Just a stupid argument. And now you, uh, you’ve nearly reached max level at experimentation. So it’s fine.”

I didn’t know if he was trying to reassure himself or me, so I just nodded. “Whatever you say. Just bring my jacket with you when you come home. I forgot to grab it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

We both hesitated before leaving the tiny, dark room. I willed him to say something else. Maybe say that he’d get our shit and come home with me. Have a round two. Damn, I could go for a round three and four. We could
experiment
all night. But he scampered out the door before I could find the courage to tell him I wanted more.

The sound of him jogging up the stairs was a counter beat to the voice in my head that was calling me an idiot for not demanding he spend the night with me.

Raymond

RAYMOND: WHERE
were you last night?

I immediately regretted sending the text. Now who was being thirsty?

There was no way to prevent WhatsApp from hurtling the words to David’s account, and the message below it stated he had read it less than ten seconds later.

David: I went to the parade.

Raymond: i know that. you never came home

David: I’m surprised you noticed. I thought that girl would spend the night.

“Raymond, can I see you in my office?”

I nodded without looking at Viktor. He could wait.

Raymond: uhhh i dunno why you thought that….

David: I just assumed because you were all over each other.

That much was accurate. Stephanie was a girl from my old neighborhood who also happened to be one of the chillest people I knew. She’d always coasted easily between platonic friend and fuck buddy (and had had a couple of threesomes with me and Chris), but things leaned more toward the latter when she’d showed up on Halloween night. She’d been headed to a party in Sunset that I’d refused to attend, but I’d still invited her over to pregame. Two bowls and two shots later, we’d been twisted together on the sofa going heavy on the flirting and playful groping.

Which was when David had walked in. I’d had no clue what his costume was supposed to be, but he’d slathered his body in gold paint and had been wearing tiny black shorts tight enough to prominently display his bulge. A contraption made of straps and buckles had attached enormous wings to his back.

We’d stared at each other while I was crushed against Stephanie, his eyes zeroing in on my bare chest and sagging sweatpants. David’s dick had stretched out the front of his shorts just as Stephanie realized he was watching. She’d twisted away from me with a grin, asking if David wanted to join us. The very idea had almost led to my brain imploding, but both David and I had laughed the suggestion off.

Raymond: she didnt stay. had plans

David: Before she left, did you tongue fuck her the way you did me at Karen’s party?

I shifted in my chair, sinking lower as my dick stirred.

Raymond: are you trying to get me horny at work?

David: Something like that. ;)

I also hadn’t had sex with Stephanie. She’d only stayed for a few minutes after David had left.

Raymond: tease. and dont be changin the subject. where’d you sleep last night?

David: Why is it so important for you to know this information?

Because tonguing his ass had fooled me into thinking I had a claim on it.

Raymond: fine dont tell me then. do you.

David: Ughhhh. I was at Caleb’s, okay? I got really drunk, and I was near his neighborhood, so I crashed at his place.

I stared at the text for several moments before locking the screen and tossing the phone in a drawer. There was no reason for me to be upset. Logically, I knew this. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to reply to David and tell him how lame he was for crashing at that joker’s house like he couldn’t have taken a cab. He’d probably just wanted to go there because Caleb made him feel all cozy and safe.

There were a lot of words in my vocabulary to describe this situation, but they all strung together into phrases like
you’re a loser
,
that’s pathetic
, and
I hope your ex-boyfriend gets pushed onto the train tracks by a schizophrenic bum
, so I said nothing at all. The silence would bug him more, anyway. Wanting David to cotton on to my jealousy was a bad sign, but I had no problem admitting that my once easily ignorable attraction was expanding into something a little more serious.

Although David liked to stomp around moaning about the Rodriguez lack of queer pride, I wasn’t the one who had backed off after we’d started getting close. I was daydreaming about the two of us being together on a regular basis while he was still pretending we were buddies who humped each other in public and took naps together like a couple of gay toddlers. Seemed like getting smacked in the face made me want to go steady, and he was the one with the problem. Sometimes I debated pursuing the topic, usually when we were vegging out in the house and he was being effortlessly charming, but this Caleb pendejo
was always popping up and ruining any desire I had to broach the subject. I wanted him to die.

“Raymond.”

I started, and my eyes snapped up to Viktor. The dude was still looming over me like a profiling security guard at the mall.

“What?” I was unable to keep the testiness out of my voice.

“I’ve been standing here and waiting for the past five minutes.”

“Why you ain’t said nothing, then?”

Viktor raised one gray, bushy eyebrow, and I realized I’d forgotten to talk like a drone. I’d been studying this guy and his office pets, and I knew he liked people who kissed his ass and pretended like this was the very best opportunity
ever
, and oh my God they are
so
grateful to have this shitty-ass job, but I barely had it in me to dress properly most of the time, let alone pretend like I gave a damn about him and his expectations.

I gestured as if to say
spit it out already, you idiot
.

“Why don’t we go talk in my office?”

“Now? I got stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

What was this, an interrogation? Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d frisk me. I could add
experimenting with old-as-balls guys
to my checklist.

I flipped a legal pad open and turned it around so he could see.

“Call a bunch of vendors because they’re fuc—messing up and overcharging despite the deals my predecessor cut with them last year. Figure out why FedEx stopped picking up our sh—stuff at the end of the day, and order a bunch of crap for IT because”—
they think I’m their little errand boy
—“Derek don’t have time to do it himself.”

“I see. And you’re doing all of this before the end of the business day?”

“Supposed to. Which is why I asked if you’re summoning me
right this minute
.”

“Perhaps you’d have finished by now if you spent less time on your phone.”

I wanted to say
perhaps you’d be less of an asshole if you’d pay someone to suck your dick
, but getting fired again wasn’t on my chicken-scratch list of daily items to attend to. Especially not when I was just pissed about David and taking it out on Viktor.

“My office.”

I sighed and got to my feet.

This was shaping up to be a real crappy afternoon.

Viktor read me the riot act about everything from my declining wardrobe, to my
antisocial attitude
, to my
addiction
to my phone. I sat quietly for most of the rant, hoping he’d run out of steam before I ran out of patience. The tipping point was when he coolly pointed out that I wasn’t even qualified for the position I’d
been given
.

The badass defiant kid lurking in my conscience wanted me to tell him to go argue with vendors himself before dying in a car fire, but I bit my tongue. It’d be satisfying to walk out like I had nothing to lose, but pesky things like rent and utility bills had me by the nut sac these days, and I was not willing to risk losing my apartment with David.

I was officially another one of the working suckers, stuck in a rut.

The day didn’t get any better from there. I ignored my phone even though it buzzed and beeped and had a conniption inside my desk drawer. David was most likely freaking out after three hours of being ignored, but I wasn’t in the mood to ease his fears. He could run to Caleb like he always did.

And he did. Except, running to Caleb seemed to have translated to bringing Caleb to my house. When I stepped into the apartment later that evening to the sight of them cooking in
my
kitchen, I almost lost it.

The first comment out of my mouth was nearly a reminder of how I’d instructed David to warn me before inviting people over on weeknights, but I’d never checked any of his messages, so I had no leg to stand on in that regard.

“What are you doing?”

David jumped and turned toward me. “We’re making dinner. Tacos. And this is, um, Caleb. He wanted to see my new place.”

“Did he?”

“I tried to text you, but you didn’t look at any of my messages,” David said.

I’d expected some dead-sexy gay man of the gym-rat persuasion, but the real Caleb did nothing to explain how he had David so dickmatized. The guy had at least a decade on me and David, and it showed in the silver streaks in his light brown hair. His most striking feature was a pair of hazel eyes with prominent golden flecks amid the brown and green and an orange ring around the pupil.