Zzzzz, zzzzz, zzzzz.
I scooped my phone off my bed. The screen lit up with my mom’s picture.
Sighing, I pressed the Accept button. She’d just keep calling if I ignored her.
“Hi, Mom.”
“How’s school going?” As usual, she didn’t bother with a hello.
“Fine.”
“Have you touched base with Professor Miller yet? Being in his class isn’t enough. If you want a recommendation, you’re going to have to make yourself stand out.”
“I know.” I bit back my sigh. “I’ll schedule some office hours with him next week.”
“You need to show some initiative in class. Sit in the front, answer questions, dress appropriately. Get on his radar now while the semester is still just starting.”
“I will.”
The Constitutional Law class Professor Miller taught was insanely popular, and third-year students hardly ever got into it. How I’d managed to get a seat on my first try registering was beyond me, and now I wished I hadn’t. The class was boring, and a fair number of my classmates were students exactly like my mother wanted me to be.
They sat in the first three rows, looking like they were on their way to a Young Republicans meeting and raising their hands every time Professor Miller asked a question. They were there long before class started, staking out their seats, and huddled around him the second class was over.
I had zero desire to be one of them.
“Have you had any big tests yet? How’re your grades?”
“A few tests and assignments, but it’s still early.”
“It’s never too early to get some extra credit work. Have you spoken to any of your professors yet?”
“Um, sort of?”
“Phineas.”
My parents were the only people on the planet who called me by my legal name.
“You only have two years left to cultivate connections. You should have rushed Sigma Chi. You’re a legacy, you—”
“Frats aren’t my thing, Mom.”
She sighed heavily. “You and your brother are so stubborn. Do you have any idea how many kids would kill to have the connections you do?”
I didn’t say anything. She wasn’t listening to me anyway.
“Put the effort in now to make sure you get the future you want, Phineas. Keep your head down, study hard, and get over yourself so you can start being an active participant in shaping the next five years of your life. There’s only so much your father and I can do for you.”
“I will.”
She ended the call without saying goodbye, but that wasn’t anything new.
At least it was Mom who called. She was a pushy busybody, but she didn’t get mad like Dad did. Her disappointment was hard to deal with, but his anger was worse.
I tossed my phone aside and scooted up my mattress so I was sitting against the headboard.
Now was the perfect time to get lost in my book and forget about my mother’s words and my stupid future.
I grabbed my book but dropped it back on my night table a second later.
I wouldn’t be able to concentrate, not with my mother’s words echoing in my head.
Sighing, I stood, went to my desk, and grabbed the bag of chips I’d stashed there.
I’d skipped dinner again, and I was starving.
I shoved a handful of chips into my mouth and flipped through my desk calendar. Damn, the next six weeks were a jumble of assignments, quizzes, and tests.
I didn’t mind schoolwork, and I liked learning, but I hadn’t been able to take any fun electives this year because of all the law classes my parents had “suggested” I take.
The past two years, my schedule had been half filled with classes I enjoyed, so it had offset the boring ones.
I didn’t have that this year, and I probably never would again.
My hand closed over nothing as I went for some more chips, and I looked into the bag.
Empty.
I crumpled the bag and tossed it into the garbage, making a mental note to put it in the bin outside tomorrow for garbage day.
The only other food I had in my room was a box of Pop-Tarts, and I wasn’t in the mood for something sugary and dry.
It was after eight, so everyone should be done in the kitchen by now. I should go make myself some real food. Otherwise, I was liable to slip into my old habits of forgetting to eat all day, then gorging on junk when I realized I was starving.
Decision made, I headed out of my room and downstairs.
The noise that greeted me when I reached the main floor set my teeth on edge.
The house we lived in was nice, considering it was student housing. It was a typical three-story house with an open-floor plan. The owners had student proofed it by putting laminate floors down, and the walls were all white, most likely to make them easy to repaint. All the wood features were stained dark, and multiple area rugs had been laid down in every room to help protect the floors.
The living and dining room were one big open space, and the kitchen was tucked into the back corner, so I had to walk through the chaos to get to it.
Matt and a group of guys were crowded around the TV, shouting and cheering as they played some shooter game. Alex was at the dining room table with a pretty brunette, bent over some textbooks.
No one looked up as I passed, and I scooted into the kitchen, which thankfully was empty and tidy.
Considering five college-aged guys lived here, the house was kept surprisingly clean. On move-in day, Alex had put up a chore chart, and we’d all signed up for the ones we didn’t mind doing.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a block of cheese, a tomato, some precooked bacon, and a jar of mayo off my shelf. I hip checked the door closed and managed to get it all on the counter without dropping anything.
Go me.
I assembled two of my versions of a grilled cheese and pulled the sandwich maker out from one of the lower cupboards.
While it was heating up, I put my stuff away, then wiped down the counter.
The thud of the fridge closing startled me, and I whirled around.
“Jesus!”
Eli smirked as he pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Not quite.”
“Sorry. I was in my own world there.” I rubbed my chest as my heart pounded behind my ribs.
“All good.” He opened the water and put the rim to his mouth.
Eli was beautiful, and he had a grace to him that was hard to look away from. I’d only exchanged a dozen or so words with him in the weeks we’d lived together, but he seemed nice enough.
“Can I use that when you’re done?” He nodded to the sandwich maker.
“Sure.” I turned and put my sandwiches in it, then closed the lid and set the timer.
It was one of those fancy ones that grilled rather than just melted, and the margin between crispy and charred was a thin one.
“So, how are you?” I asked lamely.
He came to stand on the other side of the counter, his hip against the lip, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Good. How have you been?”
“Good.”
Jeez, could this be any more awkward?
Thankfully, Eli didn’t seem to mind, and he gave me an assessing look.
“What?” I asked.
“You don’t usually wear your glasses, do you?”
I’d completely forgotten I was still wearing them.
“Um, no. I don’t.”
“They look good on you.”
My cheeks heated as his eyes lingered on my chest, then returned to my face.
Was he checking me out?
“Um, thanks.”
Awkward, party of one.
He shot me a little half smile and stretched his arms above his head.
My eyes traced down his lean body.
He was thin, but not skinny. He had the body of a runway model and the face to match. Add in his artfully disheveled hair, and he looked like he should be on a movie set and not in a shared kitchen in student housing.
“So, what’s your major?” he asked as he dropped his arms.
He didn’t look bored, but his expression was a bit guarded, aloof even.
“Econ.”
“Boring.”
I chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. “It is. What about you?”
“Biochem.”
I perked up. He liked science too? “Yeah? What do you want to do with that? Go to grad school?”
He nodded but didn’t offer any more information.
The sandwich maker clicked, telling me it was done.
Turning away from Eli and his magnetic beauty, I plated my dinner.
“Do you want me to clean it?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.”
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I grabbed a can of Sprite out of the fridge and walked back into the main part of the house.
The living room was out because every seat was taken by a huge guy in designer clothes. Alex and his study date were engrossed in what they were doing. I brought my food over to the table and slid into a chair opposite them.
Alex gave me a quick smile, then went back into study mode.
I tuned out the noise from the guys around the TV and whatever Alex and his study buddy were quietly talking about, and concentrated on eating my dinner.
I was just finishing my last bite when Beck trudged through the living room, looking like he was trying to decide whether he wanted to punch something or cry.
He caught my eye as he passed but didn’t pause or even glance at Alex as he went upstairs.
That wasn’t like him.
Something must have happened. I hurried into the kitchen and put my plate away. Eli was still in there, eating a sandwich over the sink.
When I got upstairs, Beck’s door was closed, and loud music filled the small hallway.
Shit. Something was obviously bothering him. Should I check on him? He’d looked at me, but he hadn’t made any indication he wanted to talk.
The memories of what we’d done last night washed over me. I cursed my inappropriate libido.
Now wasn’t the time to get all horned up, not when Beck was in obvious need of a friend.
Making up my mind, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and opened our text thread.
Finn: are you okay?
He didn’t answer. I took that as a sign to back off and went into my room.
I was just sitting down at my desk when my phone pinged.
Beck: fine
Beck: sort of
Finn: do you need a friend?
A long pause.
Beck: yeah
Beck: my door is unlocked
I put my phone on my desk and walked to his room.
He’d turned the music down, and he was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and a forlorn expression on his handsome face.
“Hey.” I closed the door behind me and kind of stood there. What should I do now?
“Hey. You wear glasses?”
“Oh, um. Yeah. For reading.”
He shot me a look I couldn’t interpret, but it didn’t seem to be an angry one. I took a chance and crossed the room, climbed onto the bed and sat next to him, keeping a few inches of space between us.
“Did something happen?” I asked.
“I failed a test.”
“I’m sorry. How much was it worth?”
“Five percent.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. Especially since I failed the last one too.”
“What class?”
“Macro.” He sighed. “I don’t understand why I failed. I studied like crazy. Alex and I crammed for days. But as soon as the test was in front of me, it was like my brain went on vacation.”
“Do you usually have test anxiety?”
“No.”
“I could help you go over the material if you’d like. When you have the spoons for it.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ve already taken the class. I think I still have my old notes too. If you want to look at them.”
“Really?” He perked up.
“Yeah. I’m sure I have them on my hard drive.”
“That would be really helpful. Thanks.”
“No problem.” I smiled. “And I really don’t mind going over the material with you before the next test.”
“I think that’s where I went wrong. I didn’t bother going over my wrong answers from the last test and just studied for the new one. I had the basics, but when he started asking for things that were linked to the old material, I just blanked.”
“It’s hard to catch up once you’ve fallen behind.”
“Something tells me you’ve never failed a test in your life.”
“Well, no, but—”
“I’m just teasing you.” A smile tilted his lips.
“Is there anything I can do for you? To take your mind off things?”
His eyes flashed with heat, as did my cheeks when I realized what I’d said.
“I mean, we could do that, or we could talk. Or maybe—”
“Relax, Finn.” He grinned. “I knew what you meant.”
“I swear I’m not usually this weird. I’m just out of sorts from earlier.”
“What happened?”
“My mom called.”
“Not a good thing, I take it?”
“Not at all. She lectured me about my classes, my attitude, and my utter disappointment as a son.”
He made a sympathetic sound.
“I’m used to it. But it still sucks. It would be nice if she called to see how I was doing or to actually talk to me and not just at me. But that’s not her style.”
“Is talking to your dad better?”
“Ten times worse. She lectures. He yells.”
“That really sucks.”
“It does.”
“Guess we’re both having shitty nights.”
“Looks like.”
We fell into silence.
He nudged me. “Can I ask a stupid science question?”
“No such thing as a stupid question.”
“This one is pretty basic.”
“Basic doesn’t mean stupid.”
“Why is the sky blue? I heard it’s because it’s reflecting off the ocean. Is that true?”
I smiled. He wasn’t the first person to ask me this.
“No. It actually has nothing to do with the oceans. It has to do with a process called Rayleigh scattering. The light from the sun hits the atmosphere, and the atmospheric particles scatter the light by absorbing it, then re-emitting it in different directions. Shorter wavelengths are absorbed the easiest while longer wavelengths reach us. Blue has a short wavelength, so it’s absorbed and subsequently scattered, making the sky appear blue.”
“Then how do sunrises and sunsets work? They’re not blue.”
“That’s because the angle of the sun’s rays is different, then.” I took his hand and held it flat, palm up. “During the day, it comes down in various angles.” I placed my fingers against his palm, making an inverted T, then moved my hand in a small arc, stopping at a forty-five-degree angle. “At sunrise and sunset, the sunlight is coming at us like this.” I moved my hand until my palm was almost touching his. “The angle increases the distance the waves have to travel for us to see them. Because of this, all those blue wavelengths have already scattered, so what’s left are the longer ones like reds and oranges. That’s why we see those colors at sunset and sunrise.”
“That’s really cool.” He gripped my hand and held it in his lap. “Does that mean the oceans are blue because they reflect the sky? Or is it because of that scattering thing?”
A little flutter shot through me at the casual contact. “The colors of both are related to each other, but one doesn’t affect the other. When water absorbs longer wavelengths, it converts the electromagnetic energy into thermal energy. So when the light from the sun hits it, the reds, oranges, and yellows are absorbed but the blue is scattered back out. It’s the same principle but not the same process.”
“What about black holes? Are they actually black?”
“Sort of. Beyond the event horizon their gravity is so strong that nothing, not even light or sound, can escape them. The absence of light means there is no color at all. But because space is dark, they appear black. Like pure black.”
“Huh. That’s interesting.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked excitedly. “The really interesting thing is that unlike what most people think, they’re actually not a vacuum, and they don’t really suck things in.”
“So all those sci-fi movies where the ship is being sucked into a black hole aren’t accurate?”
“Nope. The black hole warps space creating a gravity well. As long as you can accelerate faster than the escape velocity, or the minimum speed needed to escape the gravitational field, you can escape from one, otherwise you’d eventually fall in.”
“So if a spaceship did fall into one, would it just float around in nothingness and exist forever?”
He brushed his fingers over my knuckles, and I suppressed a shiver.
“No. The gravitational pull is so strong it would cause what Stephen Hawking called spaghettification. That’s where something is stretched vertically and compressed horizontally as it’s pulled toward the source. Essentially, you would be ripped apart at the molecular level, and only your particles would fall in.”
“Damn. That’s violent.”
“It is. But what’s really cool is that while most black holes are a super massive area of space, they can also be tiny.”
“Really?”
“Mmmm-hmmm. Some are as small as a single atom, but they’re so dense they have the mass of a mountain. Bigger ones are stellar black holes. They form after the collapse of a star. But there are also massive ones like at the center of our galaxy.”
“Really? Are we in danger of falling into it?”
“Nope. The Milky Way is massive, about one hundred thousand light-years across. The center is twenty-seven thousand light-years away from earth, so we’re too far away for it to be a threat.”
“What’s a light-year? Like what does it measure? Time?”
“You’d think that because of the name, but it’s actually a measure of distance. Light travels at a constant speed, so a light-year is the distance that light will travel over a year.”
“How fast does light travel?”
“One hundred eighty-six miles per second, or about five point eighty-seven trillion miles per year.”
“I… I can’t even begin to picture that. That’s…”
“Pretty incredible, right?”
“Yeah. I knew space was huge, but that scale is just mind blowing.”
“Here are a few reference points that helped me understand the scale. The sun is ninety-three million miles, or eight point three light minutes, from us, but our closest star, Proxima Centauri, is just under twenty-five point twenty-two trillion miles away, which is approximately four point twenty-nine light-years.”
“Shit. So in all those sci-fi shows, when they talk about warp speed and traveling to other solar systems, how realistic is that? Like, could we ever actually have that kind of technology?”
“As of now, warp speed isn’t a thing. It’s just a cool term that Star Trek started using in the original series, and it stuck. The other part of your question is a toughie because we don’t know.”
“We don’t?”
“No.” How could I explain this? “Have you ever been on a plane?”
He nodded.
“So, if we were to fly a Boeing 747 to the moon, it would take over seventeen days. To get to the sun would take over nineteen years. To get to Pluto would take seven hundred eighteen years. To get to Proxima Centauri, over five million years. And to get to the center of our galaxy, not across it, just to the center, would take over thirty-two billion years.”
“But we can travel faster than a plane, right?”
“Way faster. The fastest spacecraft we’ve built is the Parker Solar Probe. Its top speed, so far, is three hundred and thirty thousand miles per hour. The crazy thing is that speed is only a half of a percentage of the speed of light. At that speed it would still take almost eighty-six hundred years to reach the closest solar system.”
“Shit. So what are the odds we’re going to meet some little green dudes in our lifetime?”
“I’m not going to get into it now, because tangent, but the chances of aliens being little green dudes is astronomically small.”
He snort-laughed and laced our fingers together, holding my hand tighter. “I want to hear this aliens theory, but after the whole traveling thing. Is it possible we could discover a way to travel as fast as the speed of light? Or faster?”
“Based on our current understanding of physics and the limits of the natural world, that’s sadly a big nope. According to Einstein’s theory of special relativity, the speed of light is something of a cosmic speed limit that can’t be surpassed. Maybe our understanding of physics will change as we’re able to collect more data and study more of space, but as of right now, it’s not something that’s possible.”
“Huh.” He absently rubbed the back of my hand with his free one. “Okay, now I want to hear this alien theory.”
“Are you sure I’m not boring you? I get a little carried away when I talk about space and forget that not everyone is a physics nerd like me.”
“No, this is really interesting. I had to take physics in high school, and all I remember is that it’s basically all math.”
I laughed. “It’s heavy on math because math is how we understand things that we can’t see. Like we can’t actually see the center of the galaxy, but we can use data and math to extrapolate and form conclusions.”
“My sister, Bella, is a mechanical engineer. She said she works with a ton of physicists because their job is to come up with the data, and her job is to use that info to design and build whatever project she’s working on.”
“The line between engineering and physics is getting blurrier the more we learn. Especially in mechanical engineering. Do you know what she’s currently researching?”
“She’s part of a team that’s trying to find ways to make car engines more efficient. She’s explained it to me a dozen times, but she doesn’t use non-nerd language like you, so it all sounds like gibberish.”
“Did you know that car engines are only about forty percent efficient? That means that about sixty percent of the gas you put in your car is lost in the combustion process.”
“Really? So if we were able to up the efficiency, that means we’d be able to go way farther on the same tank of gas? That would seriously cut down how much gas we’d need to produce.”
“Yup. It’s not the solution to our dependency on fossil fuels, but it’s a good stopgap until we’re able to create dependable alternatives.”
“Damn, Bells. Now how come she couldn’t tell me that in English?”
“Because engineers are science nerds, and science nerds love to talk about science. Exhibit A.” I waved at myself with my free hand.
“Yeah, but this is science talk I can understand.”
“I did some tutoring in high school and learned that using layman’s terms to explain things helped people get the concepts. Then, once they had those down, we could focus on the scientific language and the math. You can’t start learning at level ten, and that’s something a lot of scientists forget when they’re talking to people who haven’t had the same level of schooling they have.”
“I can only imagine how you and Bella would geek out together. None of my other siblings are into science, and she married a CPA, so the rest of us kind of zone out when she’s going on about work.”
“What do your other sisters do?”
“Brit teaches high school history and civics. Bella, you already know. Bristol is a physical therapist at a sports clinic, Brianna’s a Realtor, and Beth is an interior designer. She and Bri have a side business where she does staging for Bri’s clients, but she also works at a design firm.”
“That’s really cool. And intimidating.”
“Yeah. Five super successful sisters, then there’s me. Good old Beck who has no idea what he wants to do and is studying something he has no interest in.”
“You’ll figure it out. Most people change careers multiple times in their lives. Just because your focus is business now, doesn’t mean you won’t find your actual passion later.”
“That’s true. But now I need to hear this alien theory.”
“Right! So, I totally believe that aliens are real, and that they live in our galaxy. I don’t believe they’ve visited us, but they’re out there.”
“And how do you come to this conclusion? Wishful thinking?”
I laughed. “Nope. Science.”
“Of course.” His smile was soft, affectionate.
“You want to hear more?”
I was rambling, but Beck kept asking questions, and he looked interested in what I was saying.
I wasn’t used to that.
“Obvs.” He grinned.
“So far, we’ve confirmed over five thousand exoplanets, which just means that they orbit a star outside of our solar system. Sixty of those planets, or one percent of them, have been found to have the ability to sustain carbon-based life. Now, if you take into consideration how massively huge the Milky Way is, there are at least one hundred billion stars in just our galaxy. Even if we were to go super conservative with our calculations because the probability that all galaxies are similar isn’t a given, then using even just point zero one percent, that still leaves forty thousand planets just in the Milky Way that could sustain life. And considering there’s at least one hundred billion galaxies in the universe, the math alone proves that the possibility we’re the only planet with intelligent life capable of space travel is essentially zero.”
“But what about life forms that aren’t carbon-based? Like if they don’t need the things we do to survive?”
“Then that number gets infinitely larger because the chance that only humanoids could evolve in the universe is already essentially zero.”
“So the not visiting us thing has more to do with how big the universe is? Like they might know we exist, but we’re so far it’s not worth it to travel here.”
“That’s one of the leading theories. It’s possible that some super advanced species close to us could travel here, but my take is that if they’re advanced enough to travel billions and trillions of miles, they’d have the technology to stay hidden.”
I studied Beck. Was I boring him?
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“No, there’s something. What?”
“It’s just no one lets me geek out like this. Anna listens, so does Dex, but they don’t ask questions or want to learn. I forgot how much fun it is to have an actual conversation about space and all my nerd shit.”
“I like learning, and you make science fun. I would have done much better in school if I’d had a teacher with your kind of passion for the subject.”
“I was lucky my physics teacher in high school was super passionate about the subject. I loved learning about space and the stars, but I was so busy with all the shit my parents wanted me to do that I had to do research on my own in my spare time. He made the class fun and was always up for space talk. I was the one and only member of the astronomy club for four years. We essentially sat around geeking out and deep diving into research.”
“I had a hockey coach like that. I know it’s not the same, but he loved the game, and he had a knack for breaking things down and giving us tricks to help us get better. I wasn’t that great at hockey when I first started, but he worked with me and helped me develop my skills. He’s the reason I want to get into coaching when I’m older. So I can be that person for another kid who loves the game but doesn’t have the natural talent to be great.”
“Science, sports. It doesn’t matter what the subject is as long as you love it.”
“Yeah.” He leaned back against the wall, his expression soft and relaxed.
“Have you thought about coaching after grad? Be that person who helped you love the game?” I asked. Hopefully I didn’t erase the good mood he was in.
“Sure, but not a lot of organizations want a coach who didn’t play on a college team.”
“What about starting a coaching business? You’re going to have the right degree for it, and I imagine that there are a ton of kids who could use a coach with your kind of passion.”
“I’ve toyed with the idea.” He laced, then unlaced our fingers. “I thought about maybe coaching kids who can’t afford to play on elite teams. Hockey’s an expensive sport, and my parents struggled to pay for my equipment and team fees.”
“Could you make a business out of that?”
“You can make a business out of anything. But yeah, I could. I’ve toyed with the idea of starting a development camp and getting sponsors to help subsidize kids who love the game and have talent. Help them get their skills to a level where they could get recruited to play at the elite level.”
“What age group would you want to coach?”
“Probably peewee. I started playing in the bantam league, and I was so far behind everyone I would never have kept with it if it weren’t for my coach.”
“It might be worth looking into how you could make that happen. Even if it’s just to have the facts. You still have a whole year to figure out what you want to do. But you light up when you talk about hockey. Why not see if this could be a viable option?”
“I should.” He lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss against my knuckles. “Thanks for distracting me. I really needed it.”
“Anytime.” My heart skipped a beat.
His eyes flicked from mine to my mouth, and my breath caught as he licked his bottom lip.
He lifted his free hand and cupped my cheek, his touch feather soft, then leaned toward me. I closed my eyes, anticipating his kiss.
His lips brushed mine once, twice, three times.
I bit back a moan as he slid his hand into my hair, carding his fingers through the strands as he ran the tip of his tongue over my lower lip.
He pulled back, and I slowly opened my eyes, dazed from the intense kiss.
“You look really hot in glasses.” His voice was low and husky.
“Yeah?” I breathed, my heart pounding, and blood rushing south.
He nodded. “I’ve always had a thing for nerds.”
“Lucky me.”
I closed the distance between us, slotting our mouths together.
Beck groaned. Then his tongue was in my mouth, each stroke sending a pulse of pleasure into my balls and through my lower back.
I planted one hand on the bed so I could shift on top of him, but Beck beat me to it.
He dropped my hand and swung one leg over me, straddling my thighs as he used his superior height to ravage my mouth.
When he finally pulled away, we were both panting like we’d run a marathon.
I opened my eyes, laughing through my labored breaths when all I saw was fog.
Beck gently pulled my glasses off, his smile full of affection.
He carefully closed them, then leaned over and put them on the night table.
I ran my hands up his sides, my palms slipping over the soft cotton of his shirt.
He reached behind him and tugged the shirt off by the back collar, then let it flutter to the bed.
“You’re so hot.” I slid my hands over his miles of smooth skin and tight muscles. I rubbed his nipples and he shuddered under my touch.
Wanting more, I reached back and tugged my shirt off.
I wasn’t nearly as smooth as Beck had been, and he had to help me when it got stuck around my neck.
Laughing, we tossed my shirt aside.
Then Beck was kissing me, hard and hot, desperate. He cupped my cheeks, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
I gave myself over to the sensations, pleasure and desire running through my system, and my dick grew so hard I ached.
I had no idea how long we stayed like that. It could have been a few minutes; it could have been hours.
When he finally pulled away, my lips felt swollen, and my head was spinning.
“I want to try something.”
“Yeah?” I blinked a few times to clear my head.
He leaned down and whispered, “Never have I ever done a sixty-nine with a guy.”
My heart stuttered.
I’d expected Beck to want to go slow. Maybe give me another hand job or jerk off together again.
I swallowed. “You already know I haven’t done one either.”
He sat back, that lazy grin on his kiss-swollen lips. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a hell yes.”
His smile melted into a smirk. “You want to be on top? Or should I?”
“Actually, there’s a better way. Get naked.”
He climbed off me, and we hurried to get our clothes off.
“How do you want me?” he asked.
I didn’t answer right away. I was too busy checking out his ridiculous body. His cock was so hard it was nearly touching his washboard stomach. My mouth watered as a little trail of precum dripped from the tip.
“Lie on your side,” I managed.
He did as I said. I flipped over so I lay in front of him, lining my face up with his perfect cock.
“Shit.” His breathy voice sent a shiver up my spine. I glanced down the line of my body. He was staring at my dick, a look of wonder on his handsome face.
The thought that he was so turned on just by looking at me, plain and average Finn, sent a bolt of confidence through me.
“Lift your top leg so you’re open for me, and angle your hips down,” I instructed.
He adjusted his position, and I did the same.
“You sure you want to do this?” I needed to be sure this wouldn’t be too much for him.
Instead of answering, he gripped my shaft in his big hand.
Moaning, I did the same, keeping my grip light as I licked around his cockhead.
He tasted like skin and musk with a hint of something sweet, and I gave his head a sucking kiss, biting back a groan.
Beck’s hips jerked forward, shoving his cock halfway into my mouth, only stopping because of the hand I still had around the base of his shaft.
He pulled out quickly.
“Sorry—”
“You can fuck my face. I like it.”
He let out a low groan and stroked his hand up and down my shaft.
His touch was light and distracting, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to tease him, and I knew I’d lose my ability to think the moment he put his mouth on me.
I drew his head back into my mouth, then hollowed my cheeks as I sucked him hard. I let go of his cock and tilted my head the slightest bit to get the best angle for deep throating.
Beck gave a little test thrust. When I purposely moaned, knowing the vibrations would feel amazing, he did it again, slamming his cock down my throat.
I relaxed my muscles and sank into the sensations. I loved the grunts and moans and soft cries Beck made as he fucked my face.
He wasn’t doing much more than holding my dick, but that was fine. I was having too much fun to care.
Using one hand, I gently cupped his balls, rolling them. He sped up, not going deeper but moving faster.
“Fuck, Finn, I’m gonna come,” he gritted out.
When he pulled out of my mouth, I grabbed his hip and yanked him back into position. As much as I liked facials, I wanted to swallow him.
He shouted, his cock pulsing and kicking in my mouth, and erupted. The first shot hit the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex. I breathed through my nose and fought through it, greedily swallowing every drop he gave me.
After what felt like forever, he stopped coming and fell back on the bed in a boneless heap, his softening cock falling from my mouth.
I pushed up on one arm and looked down at him.
He was lying with one arm over his eyes, his chest heaving as he pulled in one strangled breath after another.
“Beck?” Shit, had that been too much?
He dropped his arm and lifted his head just enough to look down at me.
His eyes were wide and glazed, his cheeks stained red.
He looked thoroughly fucked out. But the fact that he wasn’t saying anything was freaking me out.
“Beck?” I sat up, ignoring my still hard dick. “Shit, did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head and drew in another shaky breath.
I bit my lip. What was going on?
“Are you— oh fuck!”
He lunged at me, grabbed my hips, and rolled onto his side. He wiggled closer so his soft cock pressed against my face. Then he swiped his hot tongue over my tip.
“Holy shit,” I choked out.
Beck held my dick in place with his hand as he licked around my crown. His movements were experimental but not shy or soft as he explored my dick with his tongue.
I lay on my side, gripping his thigh as I fought to keep my hips still.
He licked and tasted and teased my dick until I was nearly vibrating with need. I was just about to beg him for more when he sucked my cockhead into his mouth.
The moan he let out sent a flurry of vibrations up my shaft, and I cried out, my entire body tightening.
I was so on edge, so close, but I wasn’t ready for this to be over.
I dug my nails into my leg, using the pain to distract myself. He bobbed over me. His suction was softer than I liked, and his rhythm was off, but it was perfect.
Fucking perfect.
“Shit, Beck, that feels so good.”
He moaned again, taking me deeper until about half of my length was sliding in and out of his mouth.
The edges of my orgasm were right there, rippling through me as my balls tightened and hugged the base of my dick.
Beck let go of my shaft and cupped my balls.
I pulled out of his mouth, falling back on the bed so I didn’t give him a facial, and came hard.
I thrust my hips up as my cock pulsed, and I emptied all over my stomach.
Beck gripped my cock and stroked me through my orgasm, milking every drop of cum out of me.
I was being too loud, but I couldn’t stop the cries that fell from my lips.
“Why did you pull back?” he asked when I finally stopped shooting.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly. My brain broadcasted static while my entire body tingled.
“Why did you pull out? I would have swallowed.”
I groaned and lay boneless on the bed. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
He chuckled. Then a hot, wet tongue swiped over my stomach.
Holy shit. Had he just licked up some of my cum?
I opened my eyes and lifted my head just as he did it again.
The look of bliss on his face sent another wave of pleasure through me.
“You taste good.” He opened his eyes and stared up at me in wonder.
“Ugh. Yup. I’m dead.”
Laughing, Beck pressed a kiss to my hip. Then his weight was gone from the bed. He found his sweats and pulled them on.
“Don’t move.” He headed toward the door.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I mumbled and sank back into the afterglow.
A moment later, the door opened. The bed dipped with his weight, and a warm cloth ran over my stomach.
“Come here.”
Strong hands gripped my shoulders. I tried to help Beck pull me up, my movements jerky and uncoordinated and not at all helpful.
Chuckling, he let me go and lay next to me so we were facing the wrong way, our heads near the foot of the bed.
When he held his arm out, I wiggled closer, snuggling into his warm side.
I loved that he was a cuddler.
That was one thing I’d never really had. Most of my sexual encounters had been quick and hurried. We’d get off, then get dressed and go our separate ways.
This was nice and meant almost as much to me as the actual sex.
“What was that?” I asked softly when my brain was working again. “Before the epic blow job.”
“I just had a bit of an aha moment.”
“Yeah?” I traced a random pattern on his chest with my fingers.
“It kind of hit me that I really am bi. I know that sounds stupid…”
“It doesn’t. Keep going.”
“Kissing a guy, even jerking one off isn’t exactly straight, but I guess my brain still explained it away. I like kissing, so the fact that I like kissing you makes sense and didn’t necessarily hit me as being gay. I jerk off, so jerking you off wasn’t gay either.
“But when you were blowing me, I was staring at your dick, and I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted to taste you. To feel you come. Thinking about you coming while I swallowed made me come. There’s no way to explain that away. And it just kind of hit me all at once.”
I reached up and stroked my hand through his hair.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked carefully.
“Yeah. And that’s what’s messing with me. I spent so long not allowing myself to think about guys that now it’s all I can think about. It’s all I see. I went to the gym today, and I couldn’t stop checking the guys out as they worked the weights or ran on the treadmills. I didn’t creep in the locker room or anything. I’d never do that, but it’s like I’m seeing the world through a new lens.”
I hummed noncommittally. This was just a stream of consciousness, and he was talking it out to process it. He didn’t need my opinions or thoughts. He just needed me to listen.
“I still like girls. I’m still attracted to them, but I haven’t looked at a girl that way since club night. I thought being bi meant I’d like both the same, but before, I barely noticed guys at all and was all about girls. Now it’s the opposite, and I don’t understand why. How could I have flipped my sexuality overnight?”
He was staring at the ceiling, his forehead creased.
“Do you want a discussion, or do you just need to talk it out?” I didn’t want to offer anything to the conversation if that wasn’t what he was looking for.
He turned to me in surprise. “A discussion.”
“Sexuality is a spectrum. Have you heard of the Kinsey scale?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gay, but I’m not a six on the scale. I find some girls attractive, but I label myself as gay and not bi because my attraction ends at their looks. I liked holding hands and cuddling with my girlfriend, but kissing her, touching her, none of that turned me on.”
“Did you have sex with her? I mean, I know you haven’t had sex with a guy, but have you slept with a girl?”
“No. But that’s because I couldn’t. We got hot and heavy a few times, and I was able to get her off, but I couldn’t stay hard when she tried to return the favor, so we never tried more.”
“But that’s the thing. I’ve never had trouble getting hard with you. If anything, I have trouble controlling myself. I usually last longer than a few minutes.” He snorted. “But you touch me, and my control disappears.”
“That makes sense, since I’m the first guy you’ve fooled around with. The first time I got a blow job from a guy, I lasted about twenty seconds. I’m guessing the same thing happened the first time you got a blow job from a girl.”
He nodded.
“It takes time to figure out where you land on the spectrum, and sexuality is fluid. Just because you might be around a four or five now doesn’t mean you’re going to stay there. You might shift down to a one or two or settle at a three.”
“I feel like such an asshole for freaking out every time we mess around.”
“You’re not freaking out. You’re processing. Freaking out would be running away and not talking to me.”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to run when we’re in my room,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.
I slapped him on the stomach. Thank God the tension had been broken and I hadn’t made things worse.
“Be kind to yourself. This is a big deal, and there’s no rush. You’ll figure it out when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Finn.” He tugged me so I was half lying on him.
His kiss was soft and so sweet it made my toes curl.
When he finally pulled away, he grinned.
“Maybe we can try that again?” He shifted his hips so his hard dick poked my side. “And maybe this time I can actually return the favor in real time.”
My cock filled until I was just as hard as he was. I pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then slapped his hip. “Turn over and get your dick in my mouth.”
Laughing, he let me go and flipped around. I settled on my side, my cock straining toward him before he was even on the bed.
Being with Beck was easy, too easy. And I had to remind myself that we were just friends who messed around.
I was the guy he cut his gay teeth on. I was a safe person to experiment with.
Hopefully, that was enough for me. The last thing I wanted was to push him away by demanding more than he was able to give.
