Last Ride of the Night Ch. 04

It had been over a month since I figured out I liked Grayson, and nothing had changed. Not really.

I was deeper in the house by then. Craig had looped me into planning, theme nights, budget sheets, who covered the door, who ran the playlist, who did the Costco run. I fixed a CO2 line once with YouTube and a prayer. Guys called me when cups ran out. I had a spot in the lounge and a key to the storage closet. It felt like something. Like I actually belonged there.

With Grayson it had shifted in ways I couldn't quite name. We were friends now, better friends than he was with the other new guys. He'd talk to me when it was just us in the house, text me about things that had nothing to do with the frat. The late knocks kept coming, more often than before. A few times a week. Sometimes he called first, sometimes he just showed up. He always left after. We didn't talk about what it was, didn't put a name on it. We had sex and it felt good and that seemed to be enough for him.

But there were moments.

We were in the kitchen once and he kissed me quick, just like that, the fridge humming, and we broke apart when we heard footsteps and he handed me a Gatorade like that was the reason he'd come in. Movie night with half the house, two couches pushed together, his knee against mine under the blanket, his thumb moving once above it and staying there. We ran into each other between classes and his hand found the small of my back and steered me through the crowd like it was something he did without thinking. At the gym he said "good set" low after I spotted him and squeezed my shoulder on the way past. He tossed me his hoodie after a backyard cleanup. I wore it home and it never made it back to him and he never asked for it.

The sex had tilted slower most nights. More kissing, more eye contact. He watched my face like he was paying attention to it. Other nights he was fast and purposeful and I let my brain shut off. Either way I slept better after.

I hadn't seen him leave with a girl in a while. Maybe I just wasn't noticing anymore. Either way I knew what I was to him. A regular hookup. Maybe a friend. I wanted more than that. And even with all the small things adding up, we weren't there yet. I wasn't going to be the one to say it first.

***

He was close. I could feel it in how his hips tightened, in the sound he made against my neck. Two more drives and I went first, clenching around him as I came onto my stomach. He groaned and held deep and pulsed through it and went still.

We lay there after, shoulder to shoulder, catching our breath. I turned and put my cheek against his chest for a second. He threw his arm around me without thinking. I enjoyed the warmth of him, and his body was solid. It fit too well and I knew it.

I pulled back before I sank into it. He slid out and dealt with the condom and I wiped down and started getting dressed, hands moving so my head didn't have to.

Grayson pulled his sweats on and didn't leave. He stepped in close and pressed me back against my desk and kissed me. Slow and deep. His hand slid up my ribs and his thumb found the spot that made my knees soft.

"God, you're good," he said against my mouth. Another kiss. "Every time." Another. "You make me cum like nobody else."

It felt tender. Affectionate. I kissed him back for a second and then put a hand on his chest and held him off an inch.

"Hookups don't kiss like that," I said.

He blinked. The smile stayed but smaller. "We always kiss."

"Not like that." My throat felt tight. "This isn't just fun for me. I like you, Grayson. I'm attracted to you. I want more."

He looked at me for a long moment like he was trying words out in his head and throwing them away. He exhaled through his nose and stepped back half a step.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think I might be bisexual. I mean I want to actually be with you, not just do this."

"Dating isn't something I do," he said. "I just like having fun."

It landed flat and heavy. I nodded once and stepped sideways out of his space.

"Then we're done," I said. "Don't text me. Don't come by. We'll just be frat brothers."

"Evan..."

"I mean it." My voice wobbled on the last word. I hated that it wobbled.

Something moved across his face, annoyance and then something else. He set his jaw.

"Fine," he said.

He grabbed his hoodie and left. The room went quiet in a way that had weight to it. I pressed my hands flat on the desk and stared at the scratch in the wood and told myself I meant what I'd said.

About a minute passed before the handle turned. The door swung back open hard. No knock. He crossed the room fast and kissed me harder than he ever had, like he couldn't not.

"I hate you," he said, forehead to mine, and his voice was rough in a way I hadn't heard before. "I hate how you make me feel, because this isn't me. But I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stay away from you."

"You want more too."

"Yes," he said, quiet. Almost a whisper.

My heart was going hard. "Does that mean you're my..."

"Yes," he said, before I could finish it.

"You have to say it."

He winced like I'd added another set to his workout. "Don't make me say it."

"Say it."

He swallowed. "You're my boyfriend."

The word hit me everywhere his hands had ever been. I kissed him fast and my hands went all over him without knowing where to land, just needing to.

"Fuck me," I said, and it came out like a request I'd been holding for a while.

We got each other's clothes off without breaking the kiss, his hoodie to the chair, my shirt to the floor. He backed me onto the bed. I reached for the drawer and came up with a condom. He took it, looked at it, and said, "We should go to the student clinic. No more of these between boyfriends. I want to fill you up properly." I nodded.

He kissed me as he rolled it on, one hand at my hip. I pulled him down and he pushed in slowly, watching my face. The stretch came and settled and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. He stayed close, chest to chest, mouth near mine, moving careful.

"Good?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah."

It was the same bed, the same bodies. But the word was in my head now. Boyfriend. It hit warmer. He kept the pace and kissed me between breaths, not rushing either. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back and pulled him deeper. He gave it to me and smiled against my mouth like he liked being asked.

"Let me," I said, and nudged his shoulder.

He eased out and I rolled him over and climbed on top and took him back in slowly, sinking down until I was full. His hands rested on my hips without pushing. I found a rhythm, rolling more than bouncing, working until I found the angle that made heat climb my spine. His eyes stayed on mine. When I shivered he brushed his thumb over my stomach and I swore out loud. I went harder and it happened fast. I came onto his stomach with a sound I couldn't keep in.

He pulled me down and kissed me through it. I laughed once into his mouth without meaning to and he kissed that too.

He sat up and wrapped an arm around me and shifted us onto our sides. He stayed inside, spooned up behind me, his chest on my back, his breath at my ear, one arm under my head. He moved slowly from there, deep and steady. His other hand slid around and wrapped me and stroked me easy while his hips worked. My brain went bright and blank.

He kissed my neck. "I've got you," he said, low against my ear.

I came again, quieter, clenching around him, and felt him groan into my neck and he filled up the condom.

We lay there after, both damp, both done. He kissed the back of my neck a few times, soft, then slipped out and cleaned us up and came back to the bed.

I pulled the sheet up. He lay on his side facing me and we kissed again, slow and a little sloppy from being tired. After a minute he shifted like he was about to get up.

"Where are you going?" I caught his wrist. "Boyfriends spend the night."

He paused, then smiled like he'd forgotten that was part of the deal now. "Right. Not used to it yet."

He slid back in behind me, arm around my middle, and I closed my eyes with his breath warm at the back of my neck.

I woke up first. Light was pushing around the shade. His arm was still heavy across me and I lay there a minute without moving, just letting it be.

I rolled carefully to face him. He looked stupidly good asleep. Lashes too long for someone who had never thought about it, mouth soft, the tension that was always there when he was on completely gone. A small crease at his brow smoothed when I brushed near it with my thumb and he blinked awake and looked at me.

"Good morning," he said, voice rough. He leaned in and kissed me, slow, a smile in it.

"Morning," I said.

He looked at me for a moment like he was organizing something. "About last night."

My stomach dropped. "You're having second thoughts."

"No." He shook his head once. "I'm just not ready to be public about our relationship yet."

"Oh." The relief hit fast. "Me neither."

"Just between us for now," he said. "While we figure it out."

"Yeah," I said. "We'll be careful."

We went through it. Side stairs only, texts that read like normal frat stuff, no sleeping over when the floor was busy, nothing sloppy at parties. He groaned at the last one and I laughed.

He checked his phone and winced. "Need to grab clothes. I'll come by later."

He sat up and leaned back over me and cupped my face in both hands and kissed me, deep and unhurried. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against mine for a second. Then he stood, grabbed his hoodie, and headed for the door.

"See you," he said, with a small smile.

"See you," I said.

The door clicked shut. I lay back and grinned into my pillow and felt stupid about it and didn't stop.

My boyfriend. It was a good thing to think.

***

Close to eleven my phone buzzed.

Grayson: Come over.

I stared at it. We'd made it official yesterday morning and that was how he was saying it. I grabbed my hoodie anyway and took the side stairs.

His door was cracked. I pushed in. He looked up from the TV, already smiling, and stepped in to kiss me. I slid my head to the side and he stopped, brows up.

"Something wrong?"

"'Come over,'" I said.

"What about it?"

"That's how you say it now? Same as before?"

"That's how we've always done it."

"Yeah, but things changed," I said, dropping into his desk chair. "We're boyfriends. I'm not your hookup anymore. You can't just summon me."

"Oh, you won't do everything I say?" he said, mock-hurt, running a finger along my cheek.

"I'm serious, Gray."

"I know, babe." He said it quietly, no tease in it. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'll be more mindful."

"Babe?" I said.

"Yeah. You don't like it?"

"No, I like it." I felt the heat climb my neck. "Babe."

He grinned and kissed me. Quick and warm. Then he nodded at the TV.

"Why did you want me to come over?"

"To hang out," he said. "Movie?"

"Yeah. Okay."

We stretched out on his bed, me tucked under his arm, face near his neck. He flicked through menus.

"What do you want?"

"Have you seen Redline Protocol? Action thing, stupid title, actually good."

"Haven't. Put it on."

He queued it. As the logo came up he said, "I got tested today, by the way."

"Oh. Right. I'll go tomorrow." I paused. "Should be fine."

"Yeah, I'm not worried." He pulled me a little closer and we let the opening chase scene take over.

After the credits I sat up on my elbow. "That was good. You like it?"

"It was all right," he said. "Action was mid."

"What? The dam jump? The parkour on the moving bus?"

He glanced at me and his cheeks were a little pink. "I might've been watching something else."

"What were you watching?"

He didn't answer. I leaned in and kissed him and he kissed back, slower, hand at my jaw. It went from there. Clothes flew off and iIt was enough that we didn't rush it.

The next afternoon I left the student health center with a bandage on my elbow and a paper packet full of pamphlets I wasn't going to read. Blood draw, a couple of swabs, the standard questions. I grabbed a handful of condoms from the bowl on the way out by reflex and laughed at myself walking down the steps.

The quad was full of people. I spotted Mia coming down the path with a coffee and she saw me and waved.

"Hey stranger," she said. "You skip stats or did stats skip you?"

"Been busy," I said.

"You look good. Less dead-eyed than midterms week."

"Thanks. You too. New arrangement with the printer or still at war?"

"Ceasefire," she said, lifting the cup. "Turns out bribery works."

We walked a few steps together and traded class complaints. Then she nudged my arm.

"Since you're clearly not going to ask," she said, "do you want to go out sometime?"

"Oh." I didn't stall on it. "I'm sorry. I'm already seeing someone. It's pretty new."

She blinked once, then smiled. "Figures. A good-looking guy like you."

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"It's okay," she said. "I hope you're happy."

"Thanks. You'll find someone great."

She made a face. "Or at least someone who can do derivatives." We laughed. She squeezed my arm and turned off toward the library.

I kept walking with the packet under my arm and the bandage itching. I hadn't said everything. I didn't need to. Saying something out loud felt like enough.

My results came in during stats class. All clear.

I stared at the screen, felt my face go warm, and typed under the desk.

Me: Tonight? Your room? 10?

Grayson: Can't wait ❤️

I put my phone away and sat there with a dumb smile on my face and the beginnings of a problem in my jeans. Focusing after that was not happening.

At ten I took the side stairs. He opened the door before I knocked and pulled me into a hello kiss.

"How was your--"

"I've got more important things," I said, and pulled out my phone and showed him the email. He'd already sent me his earlier in the day. "You know what this means."

"No more condoms," he said, grinning.

I kissed him hard. He laughed into it. "Not wasting time?"

"Do you want to wait?" I asked.

He didn't answer that. He kissed me again and pulled at my shirt. "Take everything off."

I did and so did he. The sight of him still caught me every time, broad chest, cut stomach, already half hard and hanging heavy. I pushed him into the desk chair and dropped to my knees.

I took him slowly, hand at the base, tongue under the head, mouth sealing around him and working deeper each pass. He exhaled long and low and let his legs fall open. I worked him properly, switching between long pulls and shorter wetter ones, one hand rolling his balls, the other stroking what I couldn't fit. He breathed my name once, quiet. His thighs tensed under my forearms. When he got too close he touched my cheek.

"Come here," he said, rough.

I stood and he pulled me into a kiss. Then he got me on the bed and went down on me like he had something to prove. No hurry, just pressure and patience, his tongue heavy and his fist snug at the base. I grabbed for his hair and he made a low sound like he liked it.

He worked lower and lifted my hips and spread me open and his mouth was hot where I'm always sensitive. He rimmed me until my legs were shaking, then reached for the lube. One finger, two, three, slow and careful, waiting each time. I was done waiting.

"I need you," I said. "Now."

He chuckled. "Whatever you want, babe."

He turned me onto my stomach. He lined up and pushed in slow, no condom this time, just him. The heat of it felt different. Closer. Fuller somehow. I exhaled into the mattress and pushed back to take the rest of him.

"Fuck," he said, low. "You feel insane."

He held my hips and started slow, building speed, the slap of his body against mine echoing in the room. The stretch became something deep and heavy and good that ran all the way up my back. I pushed back into every drive and he met me there. He reached under and stroked me in time with his thrusts and I had to bite down on a sound.

He pulled me up to my knees and wrapped an arm across my chest, staying inside, and the angle shifted deeper. My head tipped back to his shoulder. He kissed my neck and I swore into his ear.

"Up," he said.

He lifted me and my back hit the wall and the cold plaster shocked a breath out of me. I got my legs around his waist and he hooked his hands under my thighs and held me there like the weight was nothing. He drove up into me, each thrust putting a dull knock in the drywall behind me. I clung to his shoulders and felt everything strip away except the pressure and the drag of him and his eyes on my face.

"Look at me," he said, and I did. Dark eyes, open mouth, breathing hard against my cheek. He kissed me sloppily between thrusts, then freed one hand and wrapped me, stroking in time.

"I want to watch you when I finish inside you," he said, and kissed me quick, and lowered me to the bed and pushed my knees up and slid back in. Missionary this time. His weight over me. He rolled his hips steady and deep and looked at me the whole time and I dragged my nails down his back and he shivered and dipped to kiss me like he couldn't stand the space between us.

He picked up the pace. The heat of him, the weight of him, the way he was looking at me like there was nothing else in the room, it stacked until I was gone. I gripped his shoulders and came with a gasp, spilling between us.

"Want me to fill you up?" he said, voice wrecked.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I want your load," I said, and felt my face go hot even as the words left my mouth.

He groaned and pressed deep and I felt him pulse inside me, hot and real, no barrier, just him. The thought of it sent a shiver through my legs.

He didn't pull out. He kissed me instead, then worked down and cleaned my stomach with his mouth and came back up and kissed me again, sharing it without asking, messy and filthy and exactly right because it was him.

We lay there breathing. He slipped out carefully and I felt the warmth of him stay behind. He wiped me down with the towel and tossed it and pulled me against him, hand at the back of my head, thumb moving once at my neck.

"Was that even better or is it just me?" I said, still catching my breath.

He laughed. "It was fucking amazing."

I kissed him again, softer. Then again because I could. He kissed me back like we had all night because we did.