M/M- Ripped (Boys Of Summer) Read online

  “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “Shh,” Gavin soothed. His fingertips brushed Erik’s chest, as if he were steadying himself. “Breathe.”

  Gavin’s thighs clenched, his feet burrowing under Erik’s legs. Dragging up, then plunging down, the lube easing the path, making everything slippery and hot, loose though every muscle in Gavin’s tight hole bunched around Erik’s shaft in a quivering mass of contractions. Erik breathed, in, out, in—sharp. Fuck that felt good.

  “Don’t hold it. Breathe.”

  Out in a whoosh, then in again, in time to Gavin’s strokes. Erik tried to buck, just a little, sinking himself in deeper. His cockhead tapped that sweet spot inside Gavin, and he moaned. Again, then again, this time with more urgency, more depth, more…everything. Erik breathed in ragged, raging breaths, his skin as wet as the lube on his cock. Though his balls begged to come, to relieve the pressure, something inside Erik wanted to wait for those words.

  “Come for me, Erik.”

  Those four words were like nitrous to Erik’s orgasm, shooting him over the edge like a car going over a cliff. Full throttle, toe-curling pleasure consumed him, and he moaned around the bliss. His balls couldn’t get any tighter, the pressure unbearable. He shot deep, coming harder than ever, the release sweet. The contractions of Gavin’s ass milking every last drop from his cock.

  Gavin groaned, leaning forward so his cock rubbed furiously against Erik’s belly, the skin there slick from pre-cum. He stiffened and then the tension left him, his muscles pliant as hot heat branded Erik’s belly again, claiming him. Gavin heaved and panted, his muscles quivering. He slipped his hands around Erik and hugged him fiercely, as if Erik were planning an escape.

  “My God,” Erik finally gasped when he could catch a breath.

  “Yeah.” Gavin dropped a gentle kiss to Erik’s lips then settled down to hold him with less urgency, pressing his chest to Erik’s, his cock nestled between their stomachs. His strong arms wrapped around Erik’s shoulders, and Gavin gripped him tight.

  And a tear fell, splashing onto Erik’s shoulder. What would he give to have his hands free right now, the blindfold off to stare into his lover’s eyes, to comfort him… But somehow, Erik sensed that was exactly what Gavin didn’t want.

  Gavin drew a ragged breath and whispered, “Sorry.”

  Gavin kissed him again and rose, pulling free from Erik’s softening shaft. He removed the condom in a crinkle of bunching latex. A moment later, the blindfold came free and Erik blinked in the soft light to regain his bearings. The restraints were next. Gavin rubbed his wrists and kissed them, restoring the full flow of blood.

  “I’ll clean us up.” Gavin rose and hesitated. “I would like you to stay. Sleep with me. Would you? We haven’t slept next to each other since the tree house.”

  No, they hadn’t, and Erik wanted nothing more. That time, he’d dreamed of slipping into Gavin’s sleeping bag. This time, he wouldn’t have to. “I remember.”

  Gavin smiled softly at the memories. “Good times, those were.”

  “If I had…” Erik swallowed, needing to know. “If I had crawled into your sleeping bag with you back then, do you think our lives would have been different?” He didn’t care about his life, because his was pretty sweet. He only wanted to take Gavin’s pain.

  Gavin’s smile saddened. “Everything happens for a reason. Even me being an addict. Probably losing Ang. It all has a reason, I think, a part in the grand schematic that makes up life.”

  “Fuck that. I want to go back in time, slip into your sleeping bag, and let it change.” Erik fought the anger. Fuck the whole greater plan in life. Though he was grateful for the plan’s sudden turn of events, landing him in Gavin’s bed, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “I wanted a miracle for you, way back then. I even prayed for you.”

  Gavin hesitated at the door. “Maybe the prayers finally made it.”

  Somehow, Erik doubted that. He knew Gavin too well. Though he fought his demons, others had stepped in and done their job. Way, way too much crap to just shovel away. Pray away. Erik sighed.

  Erik would sleep with the man he loved. He would make sure the tears stayed at bay, along with the nightmares. He would do the job he’d set out to do, and in the morning, they’d go back to their separate corners of the world, meeting in the middle for a brief rendezvous with paint and candlelight.

  Erik hoped it was enough.

  Chapter Three

  Gavin returned to the room and blew out candles, well aware of the role reversal and Erik’s sudden unease as he sat on the bed, wiping up with the edge of the sheet that Gavin would wash later.

  In the past, Erik was the confident one, boldly breaking out into a new world when he’d come out their senior year in high school. He never cared he was the only nerd sitting at the football players’ table, ensconced between cheerleaders and Gavin. Never cared that being Gavin’s friend during the dark years meant he’d been labeled a druggie, no good, weak. In a small town, labels were everything. Erik wore the labels like freaking prizes. Medals.

  Gavin was a weak shit. How sad that he’d been considered the strong one for so long, just because he could toss a football, because he could stand up to his friends and not allow them to talk trash about his best friend? And yeah, it was brave, maybe, to stand up for someone else. But so much easier than standing up for the true Gavin. What the man inside had wanted.

  If he were strong, he would have stood up for himself. Said, No, I don’t want to play this fucking game, I want to paint. He loved football, but not as much as his dad did. Playing meant he got smacked around less by the old man, so he did it.

  He would have said, No, I don’t want to date Emily. I want to date Erik. No, I don’t want to light up. Take that shot. Hell, yes, let me paint and go to another world, create an escape in a healthy way.

  Gavin lifeguarded because the beach was always a safe haven for him. It was place to decompress without thinking too deeply, the sound of the waves therapeutic, the salt and sun working their own magic on his soul over the years. As a kid, he’d skip school and go to the beach, even in winter. It was the one place he never felt he had to be high or drunk.

  But now, he had summers free from teaching at the grammar school and he had to keep busy if he didn’t want to fall back into the clutches of addiction. Getting paid to sit and stare at the ocean all summer was almost stealing from the town when he’d done it for free for so many years. He loved swimming and it fed his need to protect people from the unknown. It was a way to enjoy the sun and, yet because he had to stay vigilant, his mind was occupied. No thinking of what could have been or what he wanted.

  But if he had a choice as a kid…he would have just lifeguarded and painted. And loved Erik. Still wanted to do that.

  Gavin was a weak, fucking shit.

  He knew come morning there was no way he was walking out of this house hand in hand with the man he loved. No way in hell. Weak, because it had nothing to do with being ashamed of Erik.

  What bothered him now was that he had hoped Erik would be replete and satisfied, not staring off down the hall, looking as if he’d indeed found out what a weak shit Gavin was and regretted every minute of the discovery.

  “You okay?” Gavin asked. The room was dark now, and just a sliver of moonlight mixed with the hall light, giving him enough light to see Erik’s guarded expression.

  “If you’d told me an hour ago I would feel like I’d been dropped into a minefield of holy hell pleasure and then detonated, I would have laughed. That was…intense.”

  “You hate me?” If Erik did…Gavin swallowed.

  Erik rose and cupped Gavin’s jaw with his hand. “Gav. Never.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be.”

  “Dude, you’re always what I need you to be. Yeah, you blew my mind with this kinky shit because I expected you to be a virgin to this kind of sex, not some trained, gay fuck god. But you are what I
need you to be. You’re safe. You’re alive. You’re clean. You’re you. That’s what I need.”

  “Jesus, Erik.” Gavin ran a hand through his hair, emotions spinning, the vortex a mixture of dark and light. But deep inside, he was convinced, despite the kind words, despite the history, that Erik would realize he was a weak, fucking shit and then he would leave him, too. That’s what happened in Gavin’s life. “Jesus.”

  “Yeah.” Erik’s hand dropped. “Shower?”

  “Sure.” Gavin led the way. They showered together, which was weird and not. Not weird because they’d showered together all the time in high school. Weird because they’d never washed each other, kissed, or caressed each other. Yet it felt weirdly right, as if they’d done it for years, until Erik dropped to his knees and began sucking Gavin’s cock.

  Gavin placed his hands on the wall and leaned into them, knowing he’d never be able to stand without the assistance. As badly as he wanted to say no, he needed this, needed the release to escape the intense pain building in his chest, like an elephant’s foot pressing down, increasing by the second. “If you wait until the bed, I can do you, too.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Really.”

  Erik let him pop free. “Not kinky enough? You can’t get a blowjob in the shower?”

  “I’ve never had a blowjob in the shower.”

  “Then let me be the first. I’ve dreamed of this, tugging down your trunks and sucking you on the lifeguard stand, right there in the sunlight, having you explode and scream my name to the crowds you lord over.”

  “Shit, not happening.” The image made him harder than steel, and he fought the urge to fuck Erik’s mouth. “But hot.”

  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.