Gaslighting Liam Ch. 06

SERIES: GASLIGHTING LIAM

(college, mast, dom, big cock, auth, sub, jock, teasing, manipulation, cum denial, humiliation, feet, armpit, sweat, mindfuck, gym, gooning, straight to gay, nipple play, pheromones, primal, sloppy, edging, pre cum, edging, condescension, consensual non-consent, praise kink, ass play, rimming, anal orgasm, public, big sub small top, piss, cum play, brainwashing, public, caged)

DISCLAIMER:

The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. If it feels personal... that's between you and your conscience. Please don't repost, reproduce, or do anything shady without permission--unless you're into cease and desist letters. Also: Save it. Like it. Comment on it. Send feedback, thoughts, corrections, compliments (especially compliments lmao). Seriously, I've been receiving a lot of love and it helps to motivate me! Yes, I read them.

CHAPTER SIX - STOP

"Morning, sunshine."

Something hit him.

Soft. Heavy.

A towel.

Liam blinked awake slowly--head pounding, mouth dry, skin cold and tight with dried sweat.

And cum.

There was so much fucking dried cum.

On his chest. His neck. His lips.

He was still on the carpet. Shorts down. Dick out. Shirtless. sticky.

Across the room, Noah stood at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee like it was just another day.

"Clean up," he said, smiling over his shoulder. "We've got people coming over. Few old friends from the lake."

Liam didn't move. Not right away.

His body felt sore. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way. Just... off. Like everything inside him had been scooped out and replaced with something heavier.

He peeled the towel off his face, looked at it like he didn't know what it was.

His mouth tasted like cotton and salt.

Or was it--

No. He wasn't going to think about that.

He sat up slowly. Every muscle complained. The towel slid into his lap, brushing against the dried mess across his stomach.

His stomach clenched.

He remembered.

Not everything--but enough.

Noah had jerked off. So had he.

They were... next to each other? Facing each other?

He remembered the foot massage, sweat. Heat. A smell. Noah's hands on his chest. A low voice.

But the orgasm... that he remembered in high-def. 4K even.

Sharp, blinding, brain-melting.

The best he'd ever had.

He brought the towel to his face, wiped slowly. Nothing moved.

In the kitchen, Noah still hadn't turned around.

"You want eggs?" he asked casually, like they'd just woken up from crashing on the couch after a movie.

Liam didn't answer. He couldn't. He was too queasy.

"You'll want something in your stomach before they get here," Noah added.

That made Liam freeze.

"... Who's coming?" His voice cracked.

He pushed himself up, slow and stiff. His knees wobbled a little, and his balance felt off, like he'd slept weird--or like his body was recovering.

But he made it upright.

The towel hung from one hand. He didn't look at Noah.

Noah finally turned, holding his mug. "Some guys and girls from the lake. I told you yesterday, remember?"

Liam didn't remember. Not that part.

Noah smiled like it didn't matter. "They're bringing beer. And probably weed. Should be good."

He didn't say anything. Just turned and walked toward the bathroom, still clutching the towel, still feeling that low-grade static humming in his limbs.

The hallway looked too long, like something out of a dream--washed-out morning light bleeding through the blinds assaulting his pupils, the smell of cheap coffee trailing behind him.

He shut the door. Locked it. Dropped the towel in a heap.

Didn't look in the mirror.

The reflection was there, off to the side--skin blotched with dried sweat, hair matted weird, a faint smear of something crusted just above his collarbone. He didn't want to know what it was.

The shower came on too hot. He stepped into it anyway.

For a second, he stood there and let it hit him straight in the face. Then he started scrubbing. Not methodically. Not calmly. Just... scrubbing.

The way you do when your skin doesn't feel like yours.

There was dried cum in places he didn't expect. Inside his elbow. Along his ribs. The back of his thigh. His neck.

His chest was tender. His nipples ached faintly under his fingers--like they'd been... pinched?

Pressed?

Something flickered in his mind.

Noah's voice, half-laughing, as if an echo:

"You still in there, little buddy?"

Soft. Almost concerned. Like Noah was testing to see if he'd gone too far.

Liam's eyes squeezed shut. He gritted his teeth, but the heat in his chest didn't fade. It spread.

Liam shook his head. Water kept pouring over him.

He didn't remember that.

Did he?

It felt real. The tone. The words. But maybe he imagined it. Maybe it was just dream-logic bullshit, stitched together by whatever was still lingering from the pill. Yeah, that was probably it...

He braced both hands against the wall. Stood there. Letting the water do what it could.

Eventually, the heat ran out. And even then, he didn't move right away.

But his skin started to cool, and the ache beneath his sternum didn't go anywhere. So he shut the water off. Dried in slow, unfocused motions. Pulled on whatever clothes were clean and nearby.

He didn't feel better.

But he looked human again. Kinda.

The voices were louder when he stepped out of the bathroom. Laughter. Music. Bottles clinking. Someone yelling about refilling the cooler.

And then--Noah. That voice. Fucking casual. Confident. Alive.

Liam walked down the hallway like it wasn't the longest, dumbest, most humiliating walk of his life. Why did something like this always happen between them?

The hallway opened into the main room, all warm light and soft music and the scent of sunscreen and something citrusy. There were four people he hadn't seen before--three guys and a girl--sprawled across the old couch and mismatched chairs like they lived there.

Noah was in the middle of it all, legs spread, drink in hand, laughing at something the girl had just said.

She was leaning against the armrest beside him, a beer in one hand, her feet tucked under her. Athletic. Tanned skin. Sharp eyes. She had the kind of smile that made you feel like she already knew you were full of shit.

The other guys looked fresh off the lake--tan, buzzed, a little too charming. One of them spotted Liam and raised a hand.

"Yo. You're the foot rub guy, right?"

Liam blinked furious.

Noah grinned before he could respond. "Ignore Vin. Liam, come meet everyone."

He stepped in slowly. Kept his eyes on the fridge. Like if he just made it to the drinks, he wouldn't have to talk.

Noah pointed with his beer bottle. "That's Cade, Vin, and Jasper. And this--" he turned toward the girl beside him, "is Jules."

Liam cleared his throat. "Uh... Hi."

His voice cracked a little.

Noah had already turned away, but Liam didn't let it slide. Not this time.

Liam stared at him. Then looked down at the floor. Then--

"Hey, Noah," he said, voice quiet but sharp. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Noah glanced over, eyebrow raised, then shrugged. "Yeah. Sure."

He followed Liam into the kitchen.

The literal second they were alone, Liam turned on him. Kept his voice low, but the heat behind it was unmistakable.

"Foot rub guy?" he hissed. "What the fuck did you tell them?"

Noah tilted his head, like he genuinely didn't get the problem.

"I told them about the rock. From yesterday." He opened the fridge, started rummaging. "How I was in pain, and you helped me out. That's it."

Liam just stared at him.

Noah straightened, cracked the cap off a beer. "Dude, chill. They don't care. It was funny. Vin just says dumb shit sometimes."

Liam clenched his jaw.

Noah leaned in a little--just enough to be felt. His tone dropped, not threatening... but quieter. Slipperier.

"You're not still hung up on last night, are you?"

Liam blinked. The words landed like a slap--quiet but sharp. His chest, already sore, tightened.

"What?" he said, voice suddenly hoarse.

Noah looked straight at him now. Calm. Intent.

"You seemed into it." A slow shrug. "Kinda figured we were past your freak outs."

Liam didn't respond. Words completely evaded him.

Noah smiled--small and crooked.

"Unless you didn't like it."

He paused, leaned in a little more, let that hang.

"But from where I was sitting?" He stepped forward just a little, dropping his voice.

"You came harder than I've ever seen someone cum. So... I dunno."

He let the silence fill the space. The hum of voices in the other room. A laugh from Jules.

"Come on, we're hitting a sick waterfall after eating." Tapped his back, and got back to his friends.

Liam was utterly paralyzed.

He just stood there in the kitchen, staring at the spot where Noah had been a second ago. He could hear his heart pounding.

The hum of conversation floated in from the other room. Music. Laughter. Bottles clinking. It all sounded impossibly far away.

His jaw was tight. His chest felt hot. Too tight.

He wanted to leave.

Just walk out the front door, find a bus, a highway, anything. Get away from this entire fucking cabin, these strangers, Noah.

But they were in the middle of nowhere.

He didn't know these people. Didn't know how far the nearest town was. No signal. No ride. No plan.

And Noah had driven.

His stomach twisted.

He took a breath. Shallow. Stale.

Then he grabbed a can from the fridge, shut the door harder than he meant to, and walked back into the room.

No smile. No mask. Just that distant, blank look.

Like he'd left half of himself in the kitchen and didn't bother going back for it.

The sun was brutal. Everything smelled like sunscreen, lakewater, and cheap beer.

Liam sat under the shadow of a crooked tree just off the rocky edge, arms slack over his knees, a half-empty can of something lukewarm dangling from his fingers. He hadn't talked to Noah since what happened in the kitchen.

The others were scattered through the water--half-submerged, glistening, laughing too loud. It all felt like a movie he wasn't cast in.

The waterfall itself wasn't huge--maybe four meters, tops--but it spilled in a wide, steady sheet over dark mossy rock, clear and cold and relentless. The kind of cold that punched your breath out the second it hit you. Beneath it, the water swirled in a deep basin, lined with jagged stones and flat ledges slick from years of erosion.

Sunlight cut through the trees in broken lines, catching on the spray. Rainbows arched and vanished depending on the angle you turned your head.

It was disgustingly beautiful.

But to Liam it felt... distant. Like someone else's memory.

Every now and then someone would scream and cannonball from the top ledge. A boy climbed up and jumped off with a backflip that ended in a full-body slap, and everyone roared.

Liam didn't though.

The can in his hand dripped slowly onto his thigh.

He wasn't cold.

He wasn't hot.

He wasn't anything.

Just sitting there, under the tree, watching the light dance across water he hadn't touched.

Noah stood waist-deep near the center, grin easy, voice bright. Like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn't said what he said in the kitchen. Like last night hadn't even registered as real.

Jules lunged at him--splashed him hard across the chest.

He laughed.

Liam watched the water hit him, watched the way he shook it off like a dog, playful and cocky and weightless. Like he belonged in this moment. Like he always fucking belonged.

Liam took a drink.

The can hissed when he cracked open the next one. He didn't remember finishing the first.

Jules shrieked with laughter again, climbed onto someone's back--then scrambled her way onto Noah's shoulders. He let her.

Another sip.

Her thighs wrapped around his neck. He barely blinked. Just reached up and gripped her knees to keep her steady.

Of course he did.

Liam drank again. Long. Bitter.

The others started forming teams--shoulders stacked, girls grappling to knock each other off. Jules tossed her hair back, caught Noah's wet curls in one hand, pulled herself higher.

He smirked up at her.

Liam swallowed hard, not from the beer--but because he couldn't understand how Noah could feel nothing. Not after what happened. Not after Liam had felt so much--confusion, shame, anger, resentment. Whatever it was. It had weight. And Noah had already fucking shrugged it off. Why wasn't he freaking out as well?

He told Jules something Liam couldn't hear, but the girl laughed like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

Liam grabbed another can.

Noah tipped back a little, still holding Jules in place, water glistening on his chest. He looked like a fucking poster. Effortless.

Liam didn't even try to look away this time.

Just cracked the next drink.

And drank again.

Faster.

After what it felt like hours, a shadow moved in front of him.

Liam squinted up.

Jules.

Hair slicked back, water still dripping off her collarbones. Her bikini top clung tight, darkened with lakewater, and her smile was easy. The sun behind her made the edges of her figure glow just a little.

Whoa... she was hot.

He looked away fast, took another drink. Didn't even know what number it was anymore. His throat burned, but he kept swallowing.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, already sitting beside him before he could answer.

Liam shrugged. Or thought he did.

She popped open a beer with a soft hiss and took a sip, eyeing him from the side. "You look like you're hiding from something."

Liam squinted his eyes, let out a low, breathy laugh. "Just the... fuckin' sun," he muttered, clearly drunk.

She laughed. Light.

She let the silence settle, then cocked an eyebrow. "You always this talkative?"

Liam smirked, struggling to focus. "M'usually... worse."

She snorted. "Well, I hope you don't mind me here, the boys are talking about boy stuff."

He blinked slow, the beer dragging everything underwater. Her voice. Her face. The way she looked at him--curious.

She tilted her head, leaned in a little. "You're kinda mysterious all alone like this. Observing."

That made Liam choke on his drink just a little.

She grinned. "No offense."

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes heavy. "None taken. I'm... kinda... like--fucked up right now."

"You don't say." Watching him and smiling.

Jules took another sip, eyes still on him. The playfulness in her expression softened--just a fraction. Her brows dipped, like something finally clicked.

Her gaze dropped to his hand--white-knuckling the can--then back up, locking onto his eyes.

And she asked it.

Quiet. Careful.

"Did something happen between you and Noah? You guys are... off."

The question didn't echo. It slammed.

Liam stared at her, frozen. His throat closed up. For a second, he couldn't tell if he was about to laugh, cry, or throw up. Or all three.

Liam blinked.

Long. Slow. Like his brain had to swim through syrup just to understand the words.

He let out a short, stunted laugh. "N- no. Why?"

Jules blinked back, eyebrows lifting.

He smiled, but it didn't reach anything. Just teeth and fog. "Everything's fuckin'... awesome."

The words stumbled out of him. A little too loud. A little too fast. He lifted his can like a toast, almost dropped it.

"Fucking... perfect, actually."

There was an awkward pause. She didn't push, just sipped her drink again, brows still drawn, eyes turning away.

Liam stood up too fast.

"Hey... uh..." He swayed slightly. His hand braced the tree behind him. "Imma... take a piss."

Jules tilted her head. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, forcing a smile. "Just... need air. Trees. Shadows. All that poetic shit."

He didn't wait for a reply--just turned and trudged toward the edge of the woods.

The light disappeared quick under the trees. Damp earth. Distant water sounds. Everything felt stiller there. Cooler. Like it wasn't watching him.

He braced a hand against the trunk of a tree, breathing hard. Too hard.

Get it together. Get it together. Stop fucking spiraling.

He rubbed his face. Slapped his cheeks lightly. Closed his eyes and tried to slow everything down.

Then a twig cracked behind him.

He turned.

Noah.

Still shirtless. Still wet. A beer in one hand.

"Hey," he said, like nothing was wrong. "You good?"

Liam laughed.

Not because anything was funny--because he couldn't believe the question even got asked.

He turned fully toward him, stumbled a bit doing it. "M'I good?" His voice cracked on the word.

Noah's brow ticked. "Yeah. You disappeared."

"I'm fucking great," Liam said, louder now. "Didn't you hear? Fuckin' perfect."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Dude--"

"You tell her?" he said.

Noah blinked. "What?"

"Jules," Liam slurred. He took a step forward, pointed with the can in his hand. "She asked me if we had a fight or some shit. Said I looked messed up. So..." He squinted. "You tell her?"

Noah's face tightened. "This again?"

"You did, didn't you?" Liam's words were thick now, heated. "You told her something. You fuckin' had to. What'd you say, huh? That I gave you a rub and moaned like a bitch?"

Noah exhaled hard through his nose, jaw clenching. "I told her nothing. Jesus."

Liam laughed again, but it cracked midway. "Yeah, 'cause you're a vault, right? Never say shit. Just smirk and let everyone figure it out. Classic Noah."

Noah stepped in.

Close.

Too close.

His eyes were hard now, no trace of that usual lazy grin.

"Watch your fucking tone."

Liam blinked. He'd never seen Noah like that before.

Controlled... and pissed.

"You think you get to talk to me like that?" Noah's voice didn't rise--it dropped. Heavy. Dead calm. "Like I owe you something?"

He paused.

"I didn't say shit to Jules. I haven't said shit to anyone. So don't stand here throwing little drunk tantrums like I sold you out."

He leaned in just enough to make Liam feel cornered, even out in the open.

"You wanna act like a mess, fine. Be a mess. But don't you dare make it mine."

Liam stared at him. Jaw tight. Heart racing.

But he didn't say anything.

Noah exhaled hard, rubbing his hand over his face. His tone dropped--not too soft, but... less sharp.

"Look. I didn't. I swear."

A beat.

Liam blinked. Swallowed.

"Okay..."

Noah looked at him again--really looked this time.

"We good?"

Liam hesitated, then gave a small nod.

"Yeah. M'fine."

Noah nodded back.

He took a back closer, not quite back to casual--but not on edge either.

"Drink some water. You're gonna feel like ass."

That almost got a smile out of Liam. Almost.

"Don't fuckin' tell me what to do." Liam muttered, smirking faintly--like he was trying to sound playful.

Noah snorted. "Then dehydrate. See if I care."

He turned and started walking. "Let's go."

Liam waited a second, then followed.

The air wasn't on fire anymore.

The cabin was loud again--but different now.

The sun had dropped behind the trees, and the whole place felt warmer. Dim light spilled from crooked lamps and the kitchen overheads. Someone had music playing--lazy bass, soft vocals--just loud enough to vibrate the floorboards.

Shoes were tossed near the door. Towels draped over chair backs. A half-finished game of cards sat abandoned on the table. People moved in and out of the rooms barefoot, damp, and flushed--laughing at things that didn't deserve it.

Liam stood by the fridge, leaning against it. Cold can in hand. Liam wasn't the only one drunk now. Everyone was. It clung to the air--on their skin, in their voices, behind every slow movement and messy laugh.

Jules was on the couch. Oversized shirt. Bare legs tucked beneath her. Hair wet and curling at the ends. She was half-listening to someone talk, but her eyes kept drifting over Liam and Noah.

Noah passed behind Liam once--close, casual--but didn't stop.

Liam didn't move. Just drank again.

After a while the room had started thinning out.

Laughter drifted toward the hallway. Someone yawned. Someone else announced they were gonna crash before they blacked out.

Vin mumbled something about needing real sleep, already tripping over his own flip-flops. The other two followed, dragging towels and bottles, laughing like they hadn't had a serious thought all day.

The screen door banged once. Then again.

And just like that, the cabin was quieter.

Only Jules, Noah, and Liam were left.

Jules was still on the couch, one leg stretched out now, the other tucked under her. Her drink sat forgotten on the floor beside her, beads of water soaking into the rug. Noah dropped onto the cushion beside her--spread out, relaxed, legs open, shirt still clinging damp to his chest.

Liam stayed leaning against the wall for a second longer than he needed to. The empty can in his hand was warm now.

Jules looked up at him.

"Still alive over there?" she asked, voice light, lips curving.

Liam smiled faintly. "Barely."

She laughed, then patted the couch between her and Noah.

"Come on. You're not gonna stand there like a serial killer all night, are you?"

Liam hesitated.

Then he crossed the room--and Jules shifted just in time to let him take the center spot, like she'd been waiting for that moment all night.

She nestled in beside him without asking, one leg folded under her, the other stretched out. Her thigh pressed against his, warm and bare under the oversized shirt. She smelled like coconut.

Noah was on Liam's other side, sprawled out like he always was, one arm hooked lazily along the top of the couch behind Liam's shoulders. His beer rested on his stomach. His knee bumped Liam's casually.

Jules leaned back, settling into the cushions, brushing Liam's arm as she did.

Liam sat a little stiff. Elbow against the armrest, can cold in his palm. But he didn't move. And neither did they.

Their presence was light. Casual. But their bodies were warm--pressing into him from both sides.

The room was quieter now. Softer. The music low, the air humid.

None of them spoke.

They just sat. Liam in the middle.

Like a fuse. A very nervous fuse.

Jules took a slow sip from her glass, then turned--just enough to glance at Liam beside her.

"You always this still when you're sandwiched between two hotties?" she asked, her voice low, playful.

Liam blinked. His jaw tensed. "I--"

"He's shy," Noah said from Liam's other side, smirking without opening his eyes. "Kinda endearing."

"Shy's cute," Jules hummed. Her fingers grazed Liam's thigh, like she was brushing off lint. "But only for so long."

Noah shifted slightly, his knee bumping Liam's from the other side. "That a warning or a challenge?"

Jules smiled, lazy and wicked. "Depends."

She leaned forward to set her glass down on the floor, her breasts brushing Liam's as she did. Then she sat back again--but closer now, her leg pressed full against his, her shoulder nearly behind him, her hand still resting on his thigh. Slow. Thoughtless. Just shy of suggestive.

Noah cracked an eye open. Looked at Jules's hand. Then at her.

She shrugged, like it was nothing.

"I mean," she said, like she was musing it out loud, "you both kinda look like you need someone to make the first move."

Noah's brow arched.

Liam didn't say anything. Just stared at the TV, the can in his hand trembling slightly.

Jules leaned in again. Closer now. Her voice was softer. "You down?" she asked Noah, without looking at him.

Noah's smile spread, lazy and slow. "Duh."

"Shocker." She laughed. Then she turned to Liam. "You?"

And before he could answer--before he even knew if he was going to--she was already kissing him.

Then--finally--he kissed her back.

It didn't feel bad. That wasn't the problem. It was... awesome. Familiar. Like getting into a hot tub and not realizing how hot it is until your skin starts to prickle.

"You're so tense, baby," she whispered, her hand smoothing over his chest now, fingers trailing lightly. "You need to relax."

"He should get that tattooed on his forehead." Noah snorted loudly. "Permanent warning label."

Liam tried. He really did. But he could feel Noah still there, beside him. The couch dipped under his weight. The sound of him shifting. Breathing. Existing.

Jules leaned in again, kissing down his neck, her leg now slung halfway over his thigh. She pressed against him, hips moving just slightly. Testing the waters.

And then she turned her head--not to Liam this time.

"Noah," she said, soft and coaxing. "Come on."

A pause. Then the quiet clink of glass being set down.

Noah moved behind him, a blur in his periphery. Jules leaned back slightly to make room as Noah came closer--slipping in behind her, his hands immediately on her waist.

Liam felt her body shift against him as Noah kissed her neck from behind, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt. She made a soft sound. Tilted her head to give him more access.

And Liam--Liam just sat there. Breathing shallow. Face flushed. Caught between the heat of her and the impossible presence of Noah.

He didn't know where to look.

Jules shifted again in his lap, her lips brushing Liam's jaw, then lower--his neck, his collarbone. Her hand slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, fingers grazing his stomach.

Noah stayed behind her, hands roaming, mouth dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses up her throat. His hips pressed forward, lazy and sure, and she arched into him with a soft moan that sent a pulse straight through Liam's spine.

Liam's breath hitched.

He was hard now. Had been for a while. But he didn't know what to do with it. With his hands. With his eyes. Every part of him felt like it was buzzing.

He caught a glimpse of Noah's hand sliding up Jules's thigh, fingers curling under the hem of her shirt. He heard her whisper something--breathless and needy--but couldn't make out the words.

Then Noah's voice, low and smug. "Bedroom?"

Jules nodded against Liam's neck.

Noah was already moving. He reached out and grabbed Jules's hand, tugging her up with him--and Jules didn't hesitate. She rose smoothly, eyes bright, breath uneven.

She didn't let go of Liam.

Her fingers curled around his wrist and gave a soft tug, like he was just another part of the chain.

"Come on," she said, smiling. "Don't make me drag you."

Liam swallowed and followed.

The hallway was a blur. Music still playing faintly behind them. The sound of footsteps. Laughter. A thud as Noah kicked the bedroom door open and they all stumbled inside like a clumsy train, crashing straight into the edge of the bed.

Jules fell back first, pulling Liam with her. He landed half on her, half on the mattress, dazed, the air punched slightly from his lungs.

Noah dropped down behind them. Hands everywhere. Mouth on skin. Jules was already writhing beneath them, her shirt riding up, legs open, one foot hooked around Liam's calf.

Liam kissed her again, harder this time, more sure--until she arched her back and broke away with a gasp.

Then he felt Noah shift behind him.

Noah's mouth was lower now, moving down Jules's stomach, tongue dragging just above her waistband. And Liam--he tried not to look. He kept his eyes fixed on her, on her parted lips, the flush climbing her throat.

But then Noah's muscled thigh slid along his.

Trapping.

And then--fuck--there it was.

The thick, blunt press of Noah's cock, unmistakable through his shorts, grinding slow and deliberate against Liam's hip. Not a glance. Not a word. Just pressure. Heat. A rhythm that didn't ask for permission.

Everything inside him stuttered.

He could feel it pulse. The weight of it. How hard Noah was. How close.

His own cock throbbed uselessly, trapped between the fabric of his boxers and the warmth of Jules's leg wrapped around his.

Noah didn't flinch. Didn't even acknowledge him. Maybe he thought it was Jules' hip.

He just kept going--tongue trailing down her stomach, one hand gripping her thigh, the other sliding beneath her shirt. His hips shifted again, another grind, slow and unconscious, like Liam was just part of the mattress.

And Liam was burning alive. His skin tight and raw and electric.

Somewhere between the heat and the noise in his head, a thought surfaced.

Okay, dude. Just go with it. Just--do something.

His hand moved before he could second-guess it, sliding along the curve of Jules's thigh, fingers grazing higher beneath the fabric of her skirt. Her skin was warm. Damp.

She gasped softly. Tilted her hips, just enough to give him more.

Encouragement.

He breathed out--sharp, shaky--and let his hand travel further. He didn't look at Noah. Didn't want to know if he was watching. Didn't want to see the smirk or the smolder or the boredom.

He focused on her. The way her legs parted a little more. The hitch in her breath. The way her hand curled into the sheets.

Liam was still drowning.

But at least now, he was moving.

Her breath caught again, but this time not from Liam's hand.

He felt her shift--body rolling toward Noah, arm reaching back. There was a rustle of fabric, the tug of elastic. Then--

A sound.

Soft and slick and wet.

Liam didn't have to look. He knew. He hated how well he knew the sound. The way her hand moved, slow and steady, skin on skin. The faint hitch in Noah's breath. That low moan he made, almost a growl, deep in his chest.

Jules's hand moved, gliding wet and steady. And Noah's cock dragged against Liam's bare waist again--thick and hot. The slide of it left a damp trail across Liam's skin, pulsing with every lazy stroke of her wrist. Noah's abs flexed, he felt that too, the muscle shifting under sweaty skin. His breath stuttered in his throat--just a hitch--and Liam heard it.

And then--fingers. Noah's.

Sliding across Liam's chest, slow and careless, like they were searching for something. And then they found it.

His nipple.

Shit.

He brushed his thumb across it, feather-light at first, then a little firmer--just enough to feel it tighten. Liam's eyes rolled. His hand under Jules's skirt tensed.

The pressure circled, teasing. A slow pinch. A flick. Liam's cock twitched so hard it nearly jumped against Jules's thigh.

Noah didn't say anything. Didn't look at him.

He just kept working Jules with one hand--and Liam with the other, like it wasn't even a question.

Jules leaned into it all, her thigh still pressing against Liam's hard cock, slow and absent but maddening. Like she knew.

Liam stayed pinned between them.

Noah's cock grazed lower again, the head slipping just beneath the band of Liam's briefs for one terrifying second before shifting away.

His whole body jolted--hips tense, hand twitching under Jules's skirt.

He just stayed there.

Caught between sweat and friction and skin, trying not to make a sound--the sharp tug of Noah's fingers rolling his nipple, the weight of his cock dragging slick against Liam's side while he kissed Jules like, Liam wasn't even there.

Liam didn't know how long he could hold still.

Everything was touching him--her hand, his hand, Noah's cock, the sheets, the air--and none of it felt real anymore. Just heat and motion and tension pressed into his skin like it had always been there.

And then--he made a choice.

Fuck it.

He sat up just enough to hook his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and shoved them down, boxers and all. His cock sprang free, flushed and aching, tip wet.

He didn't even look at them. Didn't wait to be seen. He just kicked the fabric off his ankles and sank back into the mess.

Jules stroked Noah.

Noah groaned into her neck.

And Liam just... existed in it. Exposed. Turned on. Between their heat.

Then--

"JUUUULES???"

The voice came from outside the cabin. It was a yell but muffled, close.

All three of them froze.

"BABE? YOU HERE?"

It wasn't angry. Just loud.

Jules shot up like she'd been electrocuted.

"Oh my god," she gasped, scrambling upright so fast she nearly kneed Liam in the ribs. "Shit--shitshitshit--he wasn't supposed to come back till later."

Liam grabbed at the sheet instinctively. Noah just blinked, breathless and shirtless, still hard, hair a mess.

Jules was already halfway off the bed, yanking her shirt down over her chest with one hand and scanning the floor with the other.

"My flip-flops," she mumbled. "Where the fuck--"

"Jules?" The voice was outside the front door now.

She found one. Then the other.

Looked at them both.

Her eyes darted between them. Something like guilt flickered there. Or regret.

"I'm so sorry," she said, breathless. "I swear--I'll text. I didn't mean--fuck."

And then she was gone--door slamming, the sound of feet on wood, then silence.

Just the two of them now.

Noah turned slowly to look at Liam. Still panting, still naked, cock still hard.

His expression was unreadable for a second--eyes wide, lips parted, like he couldn't quite process what had just happened.

Liam met his gaze, bugged out, blinking fast like maybe if he didn't move, this would all un-happen.

And--

Noah burst out laughing.

It hit sudden and loud--head tipping back, chest shaking, full-body laughter. The kind that made his abs clench and his voice break mid-breath.

"Dude--" he gasped between laughs. "What the flying fuck--"

Liam didn't respond at first. He sat there, frozen, eyes darting toward the door, then back to Noah, then to the sheet twisted in his lap covering his hard dick.

And then he laughed too.

At first it was nervous. Just a puff of breath through his nose. But it kept going. Built into something real. His shoulders shook. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands and laughing until his face burned.

The laughter died down.

Bit by bit.

First Noah's, then Liam's.

It didn't fade because they weren't amused anymore--it just... got replaced. By something quieter. Tension. The kind of stillness that buzzed under the skin.

Noah stretched his arms behind his head, damp armpits, his bare chest rising with the motion. His abs flexed, lips still curled, breath slowing. Hard cock out of his shorts.

Then he looked over.

"We're already hard and half-naked on a bed, dude. We gonna waste that or what?"

Liam blinked like he'd just been slapped.

"Y-you're impossible."

Noah raised a brow.

"And you're drunk." Liam continued.

Noah grinned, cocking his head.

"So are you."

Liam flinched, tugging the sheet up his chest like that would his nakedness.

Noah snorted. "Bro. I've seen your dick. Seen you jerk off. And you've seen all that I got too. Get out of your head.

Liam opened his mouth, maybe to protest, but didn't get the chance.

Noah lunged--not hard, not rough--just suddenly enough to yank the sheet out of Liam's grip and shove him back into the mattress. It was clumsy. Drunk. Intimate in the worst/best way. They wrestled for maybe four seconds.

He grabbed Liam by the wrist, yanked him sideways, and pulled him down with a twist of his own body--so they landed flat on the mattress, back to chest. Liam ended up staring at the ceiling, gasping, with Noah's chest pressed against his back.

Both of them face-up. Noah's arms sliding under Liam's, one snaking around his ribs, the other locking across his chest. His legs tangled over Liam's hips in that wrestler's wrap, locking him in place. Holding him down.

Liam didn't even realize he was being pinned--his mind was too full of Noah's cock. Pressed between his ass cheeks, grinding up into the curve of him with every subtle shift. Nothing separating them but heat, friction, and Liam's panic

Liam squirmed. "Noah--what the fuck--"

"Relax," Noah said, nuzzling into the side of his face. "You're so dramatic."

His breath ghosted over Liam's ear. He shifted his hips and Liam whimpered.

Then Noah's hands moved. One slid up, fingers splaying across Liam's chest. The other zeroed in on a nipple--pinching, rolling, teasing.

Liam twitched.

"Dude," Liam hissed, already squirming. "Stop. Come on. That's--"

Another flick.

A groan.

A twist, gentle but precise.

"Say it again," Noah said as he reached for the other. "But slower. Let's see if your voice even works now."

"Fuck--dude--Noah--" It came out breathy. Weak. Liam's voice cracked halfway through his name, like his body was trying to tell on him.

Noah didn't answer. He kept toying with his nipples--rolling them, flicking, dragging his thumbs in lazy circles that made Liam twitch every damn time.

"St-stop--don't--" Liam panted, but it was barely a whisper now. The words melted between moans. He was starting to sound drunk again, but not from the alcohol.

He let out a whine--something that caught in his throat and came out as a strangled "Ah--hhnn--Noah--please--"

"Please what, little buddy?" Noah murmured, lips brushing behind his ear. "Please don't stop?"

Liam shook his head, but it was slow. Like he couldn't remember why he was saying no anymore.

He arched just a little, accidentally grinding back against Noah's cock, and when it rubbed against him again, he groaned--low, helpless, embarrassingly loud.

"Fuhh--hh--" Liam mumbled. "I c-can't..."

"You can't what, baby?" Noah's voice was mocking. Gentle, taunting. "Tell me..."

He thrust again--slow, just enough to let Liam feel it. The heat. The shape. The weight of it.

Liam's fingers curled around Noah's toned forearm. Not to stop him. Just to hold onto something. And somewhere in the rhythm, his legs shifted.

Opened.

Not much.

Just enough.

Noah noticed.

Of course Noah fucking noticed.

Immediately, his left hand left Liam's chest. He brought it to his mouth first, then made its way down--over Liam's abs, across his hip, until it found right on his asshole.

No rush whatsoever.

Just the quiet pressure of fingers teasing, pressing in lightly into Liam.

And Liam let out the softest, messiest "whaaa--? hnnn--nooo--fuck," and squeezed his buddy's arm harder.

And then--Noah pressed in further.

Just a fingertip at first. Slick from his own mouth, firm but gentle. He circled the rim once. Then again.

Liam tensed, his whole body twitching against Noah's grip. He stopped breathing, and then--

"Dude--" It was almost a whisper. Then a bit louder:

"Noah--stop. Please don't--fuck--"

Noah didn't stop. Didn't speed up. Just kept going with the same easy rhythm.

His voice came low and flat and fucking condescending:

"Chill, man. Get out of your head. Touch yourself. Your little dick's been begging since I touched your tits."

Liam froze. Like that sentence alone short-circuited him.

And then--

He moved. Resigned.

His hand--shaky, slow--went back down over his own stomach and wrapped around his own cock like it was the only way to stay grounded.

Noah chuckled into his neck.

"Good boy," he muttered. "Was that so hard?"

His other hand stayed on Liam's chest, thumb and forefinger working Liam's nipple--pressing, rolling, tugging just enough to keep him gasping.

He slid his finger in deeper now--steady, smooth--one knuckle at a time. Liam arched, a helpless moan clawing out of his throat.

"Fuck--hh--God--"

Noah grinned, practically purring.

"You sound so stupid when you like something, little buddy."

He pushed in further--slow and constant --until his whole finger was buried deep inside.

Liam's back was entirely arched by now. His body tensed, then trembled, muscles fluttering around the intrusion as another moan slipped out, long.

Noah kept at it.

He just moved--his finger curling, pressing against every sensitive inch inside Liam while his other hand kept working Liam's nipple, coaxing out more twitchy little gasps.

All the while, his cock pressing against Liam's ass.

Hard. Slick. Dripping.

Every time Liam arched or squirmed, Noah's cock head dragged across his skin--smearing pre-cum along the small of his back, wetting his ass crack. He was marking Liam without even trying.

Liam whimpered--like he noticed all of it at once. The hand on his chest. The pressure inside him. The weight of Noah's cock pressing and leaking against his back.

And then?

A second finger--not inside at first. Just circling his ass lips. Light. Slow. Just enough to make Liam flinch, to make his thighs twitch like he didn't know where to run from.

One finger deep. One finger teasing. He was panting--shallow, uneven--until Noah pushed the second finger in. Liam spasmed, hips twitching, a moan cracking out of him.

"Whoa..." Noah breathed into his ear as he slid the second finger in. "Can you feel yourself getting stretched, little buddy?"

Liam gasped. His whole body jerked, like a shiver went off in his spine.

He could feel it--every fucking inch. The stretch. The heat. His hole was fluttering around Noah's fingers, quivering and pulsing, clenching down like it didn't know what to do. He could feel them inside--pressing right against the inner wall of his ass, like Noah was looking for something.

Then Noah's fingers bent slightly inside him both entirely in. Stroking. And Liam moaned again--a soft, crumbling sound that barely made it out of his mouth.

"God, listen to you," Noah murmured. "Losing your mind just from tit play and two fingers up your ass.

He thrust them again. Deep and slow.

Liam's legs twitched.

The hand on his cock went faster, shaky and wet. The other clung to Noah's thick forearm--gripping hard.

He was panting now--barely even aware of it.

Noah grinned into his neck.

"Keep going, little buddy. You're almost there, huh?"

And that's when Liam said it.

A weak, ruined little:

"F--fuck... Stop, Noah..." Barely above a whisper.

Liam's hand never stopped moving.

Liam's ass never stopped grinding.

But Noah did.

Completely.

With no warning, he began to move--slow, careful, like unwinding a harness.

His legs untangled from around Liam's waist first. One at a time. The pressure that had been holding Liam down--so tight, so present--vanished. Just like that.

Then came his arms.

The one pinning Liam's chest unhooked and slid away. The other?

Noah slipped both fingers out of him, slowly.

Liam twitched when they left him-- empty. His hole clenched around nothing. Wanting.

He rolled away. Pulled himself back--away from Liam's heat, his breath, his body. Sat up. Swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Noah didn't say anything.

Liam stayed where he was.

Flat. Exposed. Legs still slightly open. Cock still pre-cumming in his hand.

Blinking.

Noah reached down, grabbed his shirt and shorts. Without even looking at him. His expression a mixture of flat and annoyed.

Air hit Liam's chest. Cooling the sweat that was only just starting to bead there.

He didn't move.

The silence went on long enough that it started to ache.

And Liam, still frozen, just let out this small, stunned sound:

"...?"

That was it.

Not a word. Just noise. Half-question. Half-breath.

Like something had been ripped away from him.

And that's when Noah said it.

"You've told me to stop like ten times, so I did. Wasn't that what you wanted?"

He stared.

"Oh, just FYI? Don't moan like a fucking girl at me if you want me to take it seriously."

Liam absolutely froze.

His eyes met Noah's--just for a second. Wordless. Confused. Horny. Worried. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He didn't even know what he was trying to say. And the worst part? It was true. He had asked Noah to stop. More than once. And now that Noah finally did, the result felt like being dropped. He was still lying there, flat on his back, legs parted, his cock wet in his hand. His hole still twitching, clenching around nothing but thirst--and none of that mattered next to the look Noah gave him. Calm. Final. Like this was already over. He hadn't expected it to end.

Wait--what? Okay. Good... That's... good, right? It was getting too far. That was... fucked up... But... But Is this me getting in my head? What if Noah's right--maybe I'm just in my stupid head again. I-- I should...

Fuck.

FUCK.

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

And then Noah moved toward the door.

No rush.

No hesitation.

He grabbed his phone off the dresser. Slipped it into his pocket.

And that was when Liam finally managed a sound. A word. A question.

"Noah?"

Just his name. Soft and unsure.

It barely made it across the room.

Noah didn't turn around.

Didn't say a word.

Opened the door.

Walked out.