LOGINAARON'S POVI leaned back against the headboard, letting Jessie crawl over me. She was a divorcee and also one of my auntās ābook clubā friends, the kind of woman who spent her afternoons drinking chardonnay and her nights looking for something to make her feel dangerous, preferably from guys way younger than her. Never too young to be minors but definitely young.She was currently sucking on my neck like she was trying to leave a permanent mark, her hands roaming over my chest with a desperation that usually turned me on.Tonight, it just feltā¦irritating.I closed my eyes, but I didn't see Jessieās blonde highlights. I saw a pair of terrified, wide eyes and a mouth covered in my own cum. The memory of Leon on his knees, trembling under the weight of his own guilt even as he took me to the back of his throat, was a loop I couldn't switch off.I could still feel the phantom sensation of his hair between my fingers and the way heād swallowed like it was something he'd always done. The b
LEON'S POVAt the mention of Damianās name, it was like a spark in a gas-filled room. Aaronās expression shifted, his jaw tightening as he straightened to his full height. He loomed over me, the sheer hyper-masculinity of his frame making me feel small, hot, and a little scared.āReally?ā he taunted, his hand dropping to his waist. He undid his belt with a slow, deliberate clink of metal that sounded ridiculously loud in the quiet room.āYou really want to practice something?āHe sat back on the edge of the bed and spread his knees. āGet down.āāWhat? Noā¦āāGet on your knees,ā Aaron commanded, his voice dropping to a harsh rasp.āIf youāre so worried about being ready for Damian, let's see if you can actually handle a man. Or have you been too busy writing about it to actually learn the mechanics?āāWhat are you talking about?ā I blurted out, feeling my cheeks burn as Aaron tilted his head to side, studying me.āHave you ever sucked a dick before?āI shook my head.āGood, now you'll l
LEON'S POVThe starch in my Sunday shirt felt like a noose, chafing against my neck as I climbed the stairs. Downstairs, the muffled sound of my parents discussing the service, echoed through the hallway.I felt like a fraud. My skin still felt sensitive from the morningās sermon, my conscience bruised by the secret weight of the other side of me that I kept hidden.I pushed open my bedroom door, ready to collapse into the safety of my bed, but the air in the room felt heavy.And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that I had left the AC off.It had everything to do with Aaron lounging on my bed.He looked entirely too comfortable on top of it, his dark presence likr a stain on my white duvet. He was wearing a leather jacket , one boot hooked over his knee as he scrolled through a book on my nightstand.He grinned when he lifted his head and our eyes met.āHey.āāWhat the hell are you doing here?ā hissed, slamming the door shut with a frantic click of the lock. My heart wasn't jus
LEON'S POVI sat at my desk, my Calculus textbook open to a page I hadnāt read in twenty minutes. Nor had I touched the homework either. Coupled with these, I still had to get ready to talk to the dozen judgemental pre-teens that I was giving piano lessons to.A task my dad had volunteered me up for without my permission, because he wanted me to fill my idle times with moments of services to humanityā¦or whatever the fuck he said.My leg was bouncing, a frantic, nervous energy that I couldn't suppress.And I was hard.Agonizingly, impossibly hard.It was like a dull, throbbing weight behind my zipper that made every movement of my denim jeans feel like a heavy log of wood.I tried to focus on the derivatives, but my mind was a traitor. It kept slipping back to the garage. To the smell of grease and warm skin.To the way the cold metal of the Mustang had felt against my back while Aaronās rough, calloused hands had confidently bruised my waist.I groaned, leaning my forehead against the
AARON'S POVThe garage smelled like burnt solder, and the grease Iād been scrubbing off my knuckles for twenty minutes.Besides it being where Joshua and I worked on the junk cars we pawned, it was also a tech-den.Past the cream coloured door on the fat left, monitors glowed with lines of code I had left running as I worked on the half-gutted ā69 Mustang sitting in the center like a skeletal beast.The heavy metal door groaned open, letting in a sliver of sunset and Leon.I smiled, straightening.āDidnāt think youād actually show up,ā I said loudly, not looking up from the motherboard I was still tinkering with.Leon paused, the light catching the ridiculous starch of his white collar. He looked like heād just stepped into hell.And perhaps that was right. This was hell.He slid his backpack off his shoulder, letting it thud onto the oil-stained concrete, and then crossed his arms.āWorking on a junk car? Really?ā he asked, his voice echoing. āIs that why you skipped school? Real pro
AARON'S POVThe brick of the alleyway was cold, damp, and felt like the exact representation of what I was feeling inside. But the heat coming off Leon was the exact opposite of all that, and as our mouths moved together, I felt some of it seeping through my compression shirt, warming me.I had him pinned. My fingers were buried in the stiff, starch-white fabric of his shirt, and I could feel his heart hammering against my knuckles like a trapped bird.He looked pathetic, with his eyes glazed with a mix of excitement and confusion, his face flushed. He was looking at me with a mix of terror and that insufferable defiance that always seemed to peek through no matter how scared he seemed to be.I liked that.āDo you ever think before you speak?ā I roared at him.I was so mad, I was physically vibrating with my loathing towards him.This little mouse had spent months hiding in the shadows, dissecting my life, stealing my mannerisms and my dress sense and the way I acted, all to graft th







