The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (23 page)

“You want some help?” Dylan asked.

“No,” Alec said. “I can handle this.”

From his squatting position in front of his motorcycle, Dylan watched Alec push his Harley closer to Dylan and the workbench. And while he wasn’t the handiest person with tools, he’d definitely gotten better with a little instruction. He could do simple things now and replacing the mirror was definitely one of them.

Alec’s accomplishment left Dylan feeling so friggin’ satisfied it was ridiculous, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin the mood with a heavy discussion.

At the thought, Dylan’s throat grew tight enough to choke him.

But ignoring Alec’s mood hardly seemed fair. Talking about Rick the day of his birthday had gone a long way toward keeping Dylan from losing his mind. Fucking the life out of Alec had helped as well. Alec deserved some sort of outlet too, and words appeared to be his tool of choice.

“The award is a big deal,” Dylan said.

“I know.”

When Alec didn’t go on, Dylan prompted him again. “You should be proud.”

“I am.”

Alec’s response was followed by a minute of silence.

With a sigh, Dylan rested his arm on his knee. “Then why don’t you want your family here?”

Alec unscrewed the clamp that held the cracked mirror with more attention than the process required. “My mother adored—
adores
—Tyler.” His hand stilled as he met Dylan’s gaze. “And she’s…uh…having a hard time letting go.”

“She’ll have to figure out how on her own. You can’t do it for her.”

Alec’s hand paused briefly before going on with his task, his breath escaping in a rush. “I wish the issue was that simple.”

Clamp now loose, Alec removed the old mirror. Dylan waited patiently for Alec to continue as he screwed the new one in place. Just when Dylan thought Alec had decided the discussion was over, the man went on.

Alec checked the stability of the mirror. “She attended just about every protest in three counties, hoping to end Proposition 8. Worked harder than anyone I know to gain me and Tyler the right to marry.” He stared at the handlebar, and then, with a small huff, he tossed the screwdriver back onto the utility table. “And now, of course, that’s not going to happen.”

“Dude, she’ll adjust.”

“I owe her a lot.”

“You don’t owe her your personal life.”

Alec briefly pressed his eyes closed. “Being a teenager sucks. Being a gay teen makes the phase a million times worse.” Hands on his waist, Alec scanned his motorcycle as if looking for something else to fix. “I was in a dark place when I came out to my parents.”

The statement settled in Dylan’s gut, leaving him sick at the thought of a depressed Alec. Dylan stood and settled his hip against the workbench, searching for the right thing to say. As usual, words failed him.

“My mom’s not your typical mother,” Alec went on with a wry smile. “She finds showing affection…difficult. But every afternoon when I came home from school, she’d prop a new piece of literature or a pamphlet on my desk. Usually something about adolescent gays.” Blue eyes ticked back to Dylan’s, and Alec’s smile faded. “For a while, those handouts and her wordless support were the only things standing between me and succumbing to the self-loathing.”

The desolate words triggered another painful twitch in Dylan’s chest.

“I owe her more than I can ever repay,” Alec said.

Dylan should be working out how to escape the upcoming talk about their “future.” He should be leaving, but anything that interfered with Alec’s smile and the resulting crinkles had to be shut down. And
pronto
. The longer he spent looking at Alec’s expression, the harder Dylan’s heart hurt, and the more he felt the need to fix the situation.

Sadly, the only way he knew was to replace Alec’s defeated look with one of desire.

Jesus, Dylan, you really are a pathetic bastard
.

Dylan stepped forward, placing his hand on Alec’s torso. The turbulent look in Alec’s gaze slowly eased as Dylan slid his palm down to cup Alec’s dick.

“What are you doing?” Alec said.

“If you have to ask, I’m not doing it right.”

Dylan rubbed his thumb across the head, and the air around them grew heavy as Alec’s cock slowly grew stiff. Outside the stroke of Dylan’s fingers, neither of them moved.

Alec’s gaze now dark, he said, “What did you have in mind?”

“You’ll have to be patient and see.”

This
Dylan could handle. Sex was preferable to talking and a damn sight better than a miserable look on Alec’s face. Dylan would do anything, even leap off the nearest bridge to cheer Alec up. Of course, he preferred sex to jumping.

“Unzip your pants,” Dylan murmured.

Brow furrowed in question, Alec said, “Should we move to the bedroom?”

“Nope.”

Alec glanced doubtfully at the shelf with its assortment of petroleum products and hiked an eyebrow dryly. “But what about lube?”

“We won’t be needing lube.”

Alec’s eyebrows rose, and there was a short pause before he did as previously instructed, unsnapping his pants and lowering the zipper. “Far be it from me to—”

Dylan sank to his knees, and Alec froze, a stunned look on his face. Clearly this wasn’t what he’d been expecting. A bit surprised himself, Dylan ignored the disturbing thoughts in his head and pulled Alec’s cock out through his briefs.

So, yeah, in the beginning, a blowjob had been completely out of the question, the thought stirring ugly memories he’d worked damned hard to
forget
, thankyouverymuch. But this was for Alec. A gift, of sorts—though that seemed an incredibly lame use for the word. Regardless, another hand job felt…inadequate. How hard could giving head be? Dylan knew what felt good and what pulled a guy out of the moment.

Alec pressed a hand to Dylan’s shoulder, concern on his face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Jesus, man. I know that,” Dylan said. “I want to.”

“Why not go with an activity we can both enjoy?”

Because I need to do this
.

“Because I want to do something just for you,” Dylan said.

Alec murmured a protest, which got cut short when Dylan buried his nose in the thick patch of hair, giving himself an internal pep talk as he stroked Alec’s dick. He’d given Alec plenty of hand jobs, but the sight of his cock so close, right in Dylan’s line of vision, was new. And while a small part of him expressed doubt, grumbling at the sensation of another man’s junk in his face for the first time in fifteen years, another part of Dylan was definitely turned on.

Hunh. He hadn’t factored that reaction into the equation.

But this was Alec, and everything with Alec turned out good.

Intent on experimenting first, Dylan touched his tongue to the head. A sharp hiss broke from Alec’s mouth. Encouraged, Dylan closed his lips over the tip, marveling at how something so hard could feel so silky and soft. He tested the feel in his mouth, checking out the size before going farther. When he began to suck harder, Alec let out a whine and twisted his fingers in the shirt at Dylan’s shoulder. The grip grew tighter and tighter the longer Dylan’s mouth worked and the more of Alec he took in. After a minute Dylan glanced up.

Lips parted, Alec panted, his breaths audible. Despite his obvious arousal, Alec cupped Dylan’s jaw. His thumb rasped gently across the stubble as if to smooth away any doubts. The gesture was a symbol of reassurance, letting Dylan know what he already knew, that he could trust Alec.

Dylan wrapped his hand around the base and began to bob his head, taking as much of Alec into his mouth as possible. Time ticked by with little incident, and Dylan’s confidence grew. Saliva pooled on his tongue, slicking the way. He enjoyed the smooth, salty skin and the weight of Alec’s cock stretching his mouth, the action erotic as hell.

But then the faint tang of precum hit, and he panicked, the memories surging forward. He couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t breathe
.

Dylan slammed his eyes shut and pulled back a fraction. Hoping to cover his reaction, he took his time circling the tip of Alec’s head with his tongue as he continued to stroke Alec with his hand. Concentrating on slow, easy breaths.

In and out through the nose
.

In and out through the nose
.

And as the suffocating sensation slowly passed, Dylan’s heart rate recovered. Mouthing Alec’s head, he glanced up and focused on the blissed-out look on Alec’s face, the sex noises escaping his lips. Finally, Dylan became aware of the salty tang on his tongue again.

But this time he remembered licking Alec’s cum from his mouth during that fantastically hot moment in the garage.

Dylan’s dick twitched, very much interested in taking things further. He pressed his mouth to Alec’s slit and sucked, seeking more of the flavor. Alec dug his fingers into Dylan’s shoulder and let out a long groan. If the strength of his grip was anything to go by, he was definitely enjoying Dylan’s efforts.

Alec started to thrust his hips forward and then stopped.

“‘S’okay, man,” Dylan said. Need totally surpassed any lingering traces of fear now. Dylan trailed his tongue up the engorged vein along the base of Alec’s cock, around the flared crown, and then licked a glistening drop of precum from the tip. “Do what you gotta do,” he murmured and swallowed Alec down.

Alec let out something resembling a sob and rocked his hips, sliding deeper into Dylan’s mouth. Several visions punched Dylan in the libido at once. Dylan on all fours, Alec pumping into him from behind. Alec on top, spreading Dylan’s knees wide as he targeted Dylan’s prostate with unerring accuracy. Dylan still couldn’t decide which he liked better. Fucking Alec was awesome, but getting fucked by Alec was like awesome squared multiplied by a thousand.

And Alec using Dylan’s mouth in a similar fashion was a total turn-on.

Dylan moaned, his cock growing hard. He didn’t have Alec’s coordination. He couldn’t jerk himself off while in the midst of a blowjob—maybe next time or after a bit more practice.

But, for now, the moment was perfect.

Today revolved around Alec and making
Alec
happy.

Besides, if Dylan got caught up in himself, he’d miss the little things like Alec’s hand now fisted in the hair at the back of Dylan’s head. The desperate clutch of his fingers on Dylan’s shoulder. The arch of Alec’s hips and the slow slide of his cock in and out of Dylan’s mouth.

He liked hearing the noises wrenched from Alec’s throat. Sucking Alec off wasn’t quite as good as being on the receiving end. But,
Jesus
, it came pretty damn close.

“Dylan,” Alec whimpered in warning, his thrusts growing faster. “I’m going to—”

Dylan didn’t pull back. Instead, he gripped Alec’s ass and shoved him deeper. Alec cried out as cum hit the back of Dylan’s throat. He swallowed eagerly around Alec as the man continued to pump his hips, riding out his orgasm, the warm ejaculate pulsing and pulsing and pulsing…

Despite his attempts, Dylan couldn’t keep up with it all. When Alec finally crumpled forward a bit, spent, hand on Dylan’s shoulder for support, Dylan released Alec’s cock. Cum dribbled down his chin.

No longer feeling victimized by a hellacious memory, Dylan grinned up at Alec, wearing the drops proudly. As far as he was concerned, they were a goddamned mark of honor.

“What do you think?” Dylan asked.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be gloating so much about the stupefied look on Alec’s face. Seriously, how needy could a guy get? He shouldn’t be seeking approval from someone who currently looked incapable of blinking, much less speaking coherently.

Words slurred, Alec murmured, “I loved every moment.” Dazed and glassy eyed, he sent a gut-punching wave of need through Dylan when he smoothed his finger across the slick spot on Dylan’s chin. “I love
you
.”

Jesusfuckingchrist
.

The deer-sighted-in-the-hunter’s-scope look on Dylan’s face jarred Alec out of his loose-lipped, post-orgasmic stupor. Oh God, what the hell had he done? A buzzing sound droned on and on in the background, and he blinked hard, trying to make sense of it all. Unfortunately, he was still reeling from his premature words to Dylan when the noise finally connected in his brain.

The timer.

Oven.

Eggplant Parmesan.

The buzzing sound stopped as if by my magic.

“Dinner is ready.” Dylan looked all kinds of awkward, making Alec feel the same. And then the man let out a nervous laugh. “You should, uh, be careful of those words triggered by great sex and endorphins.”

With that, Dylan shot to his feet and strode for the kitchen. Alec stared at the door Dylan had disappeared through and tried to breathe against the thick mud filling his chest.

Damn.

For the last three days he’d been working up the courage to ask Dylan to attend the awards ceremony as his date. An actual date, not a fake one. As an actual boyfriend, not the backup. Alec was dying to inch this relationship closer to where he needed them to be, declared outright for all to see. Authentic. Genuine.

Real
.

What the hell had he been thinking? A declaration of love during sex? Good God, why couldn’t he have been struck mute?

I love you
…

Fingers shaking, Alec adjusted his clothes, making himself presentable. Avoiding Dylan would only make matters worse. So he smoothed down his shirt with a resigned sigh and headed inside, the scent of spicy tomato sauce in the air. The eggplant Parmesan sat on a counter in an empty kitchen. Had Dylan left the house? Had he run away because he’d freaked about the blowjob?

Alec knew better. He’d seen the front of Dylan’s pants and the raging hard-on beneath. And, although massively pleased for Dylan that he’d overcome his fear of sucking someone off, Alec knew the discovery hardly helped when the man had escaped, perhaps never to come back…

All because of Alec’s big. Rambling. Mouth.

Fear settled deep, oozing out his pores. He’d wigged Dylan out but good, and Alec had two choices. He could pretend he hadn’t meant the words or explain that he
did
, which had a 99.9% likelihood of pushing Dylan away.