The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (16 page)

“Lube,” Alec gasped, followed by, “condom.”

And, yeah, asking for permission now would be about ten steps in the wrong direction.

Dylan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a packet of lube and a condom. When he’d stomped over to Alec’s room there’d been no question in his mind that they would end up here, that the two of them would fix where they’d been seriously derailed by Noah and his dumbass opinions—

Alec tipped his hips and spread his thighs in invitation, granting Dylan full access.

“Shit,” Dylan said with a shaky breath.

He made quick work of the condom and the lube, fumbling only for a moment, thankyouverymuch. Dylan worked Alec open, progressing from one to two and then three fingers, barely taking the time to process the response of one before adding another. He knew he was going too fast, but Alec simply dug his blunt nails into Dylan’s arms and worked his hips in begging counter-circles. He offered no resistance, only demanded more. Alec shifted his legs higher and settled them around Dylan’s back as if to hurry him up. But Dylan craved better friction. More contact. Hell, he needed
leverage
.

Dylan hooked an arm under Alec. “Hold on.”

He hauled him down the bed until Alec’s ass reached the edge and Dylan could plant his feet firmly on the carpet. Not a second thought entered his mind as he lined up his cock with Alec’s hole and pushed, bottoming out in one long stroke.

The tight heat enveloped his cock, and Dylan let out a hiss and froze, his limbs tense. Fine tremors wracked his every muscle. He fought the urge to move as the words racing around his head since Alec had ended things—the words itching to get out when Dylan had hunted him down at the clinic—finally escaped.

“This isn’t over,” Dylan rasped out.

The feeling had been churning inside Dylan since Alec had put their friendship, or relationship, or what-the-fuck-ever this was on hold. Dylan pulled his hips back before thrusting again, and Alec arched his back to meet Dylan.

“I know,” Alec murmured.

Somehow, the admission felt horrifically inadequate. Dylan pressed his forehead against Alec’s and repeated the process, near full withdrawal followed by a hard drive forward, burying himself to the hilt.

The harsh words sandblasted Dylan’s throat. “We’re not through.”

“I
know
.”

This time Alec’s confession rumbled out like a perfectly tuned Harley, and there was no fucking way Dylan could work up the proper amount of fear he knew his declaration—and Alec’s response —should generate.

Shoving the thought aside, Dylan began a demanding pace he hoped like hell he could maintain. Time blurred. The bed creaked.

Until Dylan’s breath came in shuddering pants.

And because pounding Alec’s ass and breathing weren’t complicated enough, Dylan felt the need to maintain control of Alec’s lips as well. So he pushed Alec’s legs higher. With his elbows pressed against the bed, Dylan jammed his fingers into the man’s hair, holding his head still so he could devour Alec’s mouth in time with his hips.

Alec murmured incoherently, nonsense sounds intermixed with mewling noises as Dylan slammed into him relentlessly. Fingers buried in Alec’s hair, Dylan pinned Alec to the bed, afraid he’d suddenly change his mind about wanting this, about wanting Dylan. But Alec seemed incapable of anything beyond spreading himself wider and begging Dylan to take more. Even better, Alec tilted into Dylan’s hips every time Dylan’s cock hammered inside.

The movements turned greedy and hot and hard, and now Dylan barely pulled out before thrusting back in. “
Alec
.”

In response, Alec’s fingers bit into Dylan’s arms, no doubt leaving marks by now. But Dylan didn’t mind. Sweat dampened Dylan’s shirt, his back steaming, but he didn’t care about that either, not while he was busy laying claim to Alec. With so much to see, Dylan grappled with what he preferred most. Alec’s slack mouth or his eyes rolled back in pleasure? The desperate expression or the ruddy color of his cheeks? But, Jesus…

The sight of Alec’s naked ass with Dylan fully clothed made the moment better, hotter, more urgent.

Alec sucked in a breath. “Please—”

Pleasure swelled from the inside out, clenching Dylan tighter, every sensation sharp. The cold teeth of Dylan’s zipper pressed against his cock and the rough rub of denim chaffed his skin. Inhaling enough oxygen became a real challenge. But still he wanted Alec closer, needed more.

And the weight of that want was fucking terrible.

Alec sounded broken. “
Dylan
.”

Dylan glanced down at Alec’s blood-red cock, swollen and glistening at the tip. The vision sent the mother of all whammies slamming through him.

Desperation made Dylan’s voice hoarse. “Touch yourself.”

“But I’ll—”

“Do it
now
.”

Alec reached between them and gave several tugs in time with Dylan’s thrusts. Precariously close to spontaneous combustion, Dylan groaned as his hips stuttered, losing the rhythm. Alec arched his neck, his spine stiff as thick, white streaks of cum shot up his chest, and Dylan almost sobbed with relief. He dug his toes into the carpet and gave one final push, pleasure incinerating every cell. All the air punched from his lungs, and Dylan’s eyes rolled back, his vision going black.

~~~***~~~

When Alec finally managed to corral his mind and body back into the same room, he slowly became aware of a crushing pressure. Dylan had collapsed on top of him. Alec shifted, trying to ease the burden currently preventing him from breathing.

Christ, the man consisted of nothing but solid muscle.

Alec managed to wheeze out, “Dylan.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting off.

They scooted higher on the bed, and Dylan plastered himself against Alec’s side, his arm over Alec’s chest. After several seconds, Dylan hooked his leg across the top of Alec’s. Whether to prevent him from escaping or to touch more skin, Alec didn’t know. The lighter weight felt pleasant and the heat reassured him that Dylan was still
here
. Peace washed over Alec, and everything—the worry and the doubt and the fear of the future—got pushed aside.

Well, everything except the curiosity.

Their breaths slowed as their bodies cooled, and Alec traced the largest scar on Dylan’s back. “Tell me about Rick.”

The pause that followed lasted several beats before filling with the sound of motorcycles pulling into the parking lot outside the window. The roar of the engines was replaced with the laughter of several poker-run participants retiring for the day. Alec waited patiently as the scuffle of footsteps and voices passed outside the hotel door and faded as they headed up the hallway.

Would Dylan respond? Or would he simply ignore the request? After the energy he’d just exerted, pretending to have fallen asleep was a believable option.

“He was…” Dylan paused, as if searching for the right words. “A lamb among wolves.”

Alec remained silent, waiting for Dylan to go on.

“Funny. Kind. Almost sweet.” Dylan tipped his head to look up at Alec. “A lot like you, in some ways.” Alec’s lips quirked until Dylan went on. “Even though his parents had kicked him out because he was gay, he remained an optimist. I was the teen who took out my frustrations by constantly looking for a fight.” He let out a soft snort, his breath tickling Alec’s skin. “And there was no shortage of people willing to take me up on my offer.”

Alec swallowed against the knot in his chest and smoothed his fingers over Dylan’s scar.

“I used to get so pissed at Rick,” Dylan said. “Some asshole would heckle him, calling him a cocksucker or whatever, and Rick never did a thing. He wasn’t a big guy, so it wasn’t like I expected him to fight physically. But he wouldn’t say a word. Just forced a smile and kept on walking.”

Alec’s lips curled up at the ends. “I’m guessing you responded for him.”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “Angry teen pissed at the world? Let me at ’em.” Alec felt Dylan grin against his skin. “Rick used to say the only reason we were friends was because it gave me an excuse to kick the shit out of people if they got rough with him.”

Alec smiled. Picturing Dylan as a cocky adolescent spoiling for a fight came easy.

“Eventually I figured out Rick was on to something,” Dylan said. “He always claimed people hated being ignored more.” He shrugged before going on. “I dunno. Maybe he was right. Me, I was just happy for the excuse to vent my frustrations.”

Vent my frustrations
.

Asking about those frustrations weighed heavily on Alec’s mind. But before he could take the risk and question Dylan about his childhood, Dylan went on.

“Rick was so happy the day we finally scraped together enough money for the first and last month’s rent for an apartment. The place was a dump, a real shithole.”

Dylan let out a laugh. “Rick was always trying to brighten the place up, using stuff he found, posters and junk to tack up on the walls. As if covering the holes somehow made the place more appealing.”

Alec could practically hear the roll of Dylan’s eyes. All traces of sarcasm disappeared as he continued.

“But it felt so fucking good to have a place to just
be
,” Dylan said. “People used to think we were boyfriends. But, hell, I was so happy to have a roof over my head I didn’t care.”

Which explained a lot about Dylan’s willingness to pretend to be with Alec at Noah’s party. If Dylan had had any qualms about being seen as gay, the concerns had been exorcised out of his system long ago.

“We were just starting to get our feet on the ground,” Dylan said. “Noah had come into our lives, and Rick was happy, ya know? But then he started getting sicker.”

Nothing Alec could say would make the words any easier, so he simply waited for Dylan to go on.

“If we’d had the money, could have afforded to take Rick to a doctor sooner, he might still be around today. That’s what sucks so much.”

Dylan lifted his head to look at Alec again. “That’s why I think what you and Tyler are doing is so friggin’ awesome. I wish we’d looked for a place like your clinic when Rick first got sick.”

In Dylan’s gaze, Alec saw admiration, respect, and enough regret to load a landfill.

“It’s not your fault,” Alec said.

“I know. It wasn’t his fault either. Rick wasn’t stupid.” Dylan tucked his head underneath Alec’s chin. “He was careful. He knew the risks. But, in the beginning, when he was really hurting for cash, he’d let a guy fuck him bareback because the money was good.”

Christ.

Alec closed his eyes, his chest aching.

Dylan cleared his throat. “Today would have been his thirtieth birthday.” Though delivered matter-of-factly, sadness infused the spaces between the words. “Fuck, man,” he went on wearily. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”

Alec tightened his grip on Dylan’s back. “I’m sorry—”

Rolling on top of Alec, Dylan stretched that hard body between Alec’s thighs and buried his fingers in Alec’s hair, his voice rough. “No more talking.”

As if to ensure Alec followed through, Dylan took Alec’s mouth in a kiss that clearly signaled the beginning of more.

Monday after work, Alec rode the elevator up to Noah’s condo, eyes gritty from a lack of sleep. He clutched his latte gratefully. After spending the week since the poker run either at work or in bed with Dylan, Alec needed the end-of-the-day caffeine infusion. Especially in light of what he’d have to endure before he could meet Dylan back at home for takeout.

His phone beeped, and Alec glanced at the text.

I’m on the way to your place with Kung Pao chicken, wonton soup
,
and a sex swing
.

Alec’s chuckle got lost in the sound of the elevator doors sliding open. But, as he headed up the hallway leading to Noah’s condo, the smile slipped from his face.

During last month’s discussion about the Front Street Clinic Residential Fund, the plan to meet Tyler and Noah here had seemed reasonable. In general, Noah supplied the refreshments and sarcastic comments while Noah and Tyler went over the next phase of their plans. But with recent events, namely Alec’s decision to ignore Noah’s initial advice about sleeping with Dylan, the location now proved tricky. Not only was Alec through listening to Noah’s lectures, he’d spent a good part of the week ignoring the man’s fundraiser-related texts as well.

Alec used to drop everything when something needed to be done in regards to fighting Proposition 8 or supporting the housing fund. In retrospect, he realized his schedule had been kind of pathetic. Now that he’d gotten a taste of enjoying his motorcycle and Dylan—and
life
—he felt less eager to be so blindly available.

He texted Dylan back.

B there ASAP
.

As he approached Noah’s door, Alec cracked his neck to relieve the tension, every muscle sore in a way only a week’s worth of sexual activities could produce. A few bruises in the form of fingerprints marked Alec’s wrists. The rug burn on his ass chafed beneath his briefs and left him questioning his brand of fabric softener. But Alec enjoyed the reminders of Dylan’s ruggedly raw…enthusiasm.

Two Sundays ago, Alec had spent all of five seconds considering calling things off again and giving himself hell for landing back in bed with Dylan.

While Alec had no doubt Dylan’s actions that Saturday night had been partially fueled by a fit of melancholy, the man’s attitude afterward had been reassuring. The ride back down to San Francisco had been spectacular, with nothing but clear skies and friendly company. Dylan had returned to his usual easy, relaxed state. He’d continued a hands-off attitude in public, but his behavior and his occasional reassuring wink reaffirmed that the two of them were definitely on more solid ground.

After that, ending things had felt impossible.

As a friend, Dylan made Alec happy. They had sex. Brain-meltingly hot sex. A bonus with the potential for serious complications for sure. Maybe the decision to stick with Dylan made no sense. Maybe Alec was setting himself up for an even bigger fall than before. Because who knew where this crazy relationship would wind up? For once in his life, he’d made a firm decision not to care.