Yours All Along (9 page)

Devon let loose a grinding moan, and Hunter braced himself on his forearms to look down at him. The man beneath him was transformed. His easygoing best friend was a beast—sweat slicked and primal, the desire burning in his eyes breath-stealing.

Hunter could feel everything drawing up, going urgent at the sight. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Me, too,” Devon panted. “Can I touch you?”

Hunter swallowed hard, knowing what Dev was asking but unable to drum up much resistance at the moment. “Go for it.”

Devon’s lubricated fingers tracked over Hunter’s backside, easing between Hunter’s cheeks. Hunter automatically tensed, but then Dev rubbed over his rim, fingers slippery and skilled, waking up nerve endings Hunter had only recently discovered he had.

A whole-body quaking worked through him. “Christ.”

“Come with me, Hunt. I want to feel you blow all over me.”

The dirty words and the feel of Devon’s fingers exploring Hunter’s most private spot left him hopeless in holding off things any longer. His hips thrust with a frantic, almost-painful rhythm, and a rumbling sound filled his throat as pleasure swelled, his release jetting out of him in a rush. Thick, hot fluid spilled between them, making everything slicker, messier, and then Devon was bowing up beneath him, his cock pulsing against Hunter’s belly as he got lost in his own release.

Devon called Hunter’s name, burying his face against his shoulder, and holding him tight as he rode out the end of his orgasm. Hunter had never seen Devon so undone, and it did something to him, knowing he was seeing this private side of Dev, knowing he had done this to him.

They jerked against each other in a few, tired aftershocks, and then Hunter rolled to the side, collapsing onto his back and sucking wind. Devon was taking labored breaths next to him as well, and neither of them said a word for a few long minutes, as if both were afraid one word would break the spell.

Maybe it would.

Hunter finally breached the silence first. “Well, that was . . .”

Devon popped up. “I’m going to grab us some towels and get the shower going. You can have it first.”

The words were simple, but awkwardness swept between them like a strong, cold gust of wind. Hunter cleared his throat. “Okay. Thanks.”

Devon pushed himself up off the bed. “Be right back.”

Hunter turned his head to watch him go. His best friend, his roommate, was bare assed and sticky with Hunter’s come. It was too much to process. His head hurt, like the pressure of water building behind a dam—all these thoughts he didn’t want to pick apart and make sense of demanding attention. And based on the stiffness in Devon’s movements as he walked into the attached bathroom and grabbed towels, the guy was freaked out, too.

“Why are hotels so stingy with towels?” Dev said, his words too fast, too stilted. “We’re going to have to call for more in the morning. You would think at a place this nice—”

Hunter swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “Dev.”

Devon paused and peered back over his shoulder, wariness in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“If we let this get weird, we’re going to fuck up everything.”

Devon’s jaw twitched and then he let out a loud breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make it weird. I just don’t know what I should say. I’m the experienced one here. I should be asking if you’re okay, right? Are you okay?”

Hunter draped an arm over his eyes, the adrenaline from their encounter cooling and reality settling in. He’d just had some version of sex with his best friend. “Not sure.”

“Fuck,” Devon groaned. “See. I knew this was a bad idea.”

Hunter lifted his head, any remaining afterglow blinking out of existence at that. “What?”

Devon swiped the towel over his chest and then turned around and knotted it around his waist. He stepped back into the room and tossed a fresh towel Hunter’s way, tension tightening his features. “This is my fault. I let things go too far. Look, seriously, you don’t have to panic. I—this doesn’t have to mean anything. This doesn’t mean you’re—”

“Gay?” Hunter’s stomach wrenched at the word, but he tried to keep his expression smooth as he grabbed the towel and cleaned himself up.

“I was going to say bi. We’ve already established you like women.” Devon sat on the edge of the bed. “But all I’m saying is that it doesn’t have to mean anything. I slept with a girl in high school. Didn’t mean I was straight or bi. I was just trying things out to see what I liked.”

“And did you like it?”

“It wasn’t terrible. We both enjoyed ourselves well enough. But it also wasn’t for me.”

And that was part of the problem. Hunter’s skin hadn’t gone clammy and his heartbeat jumpy because he’d hated what he’d done. He’d enjoyed the hell out of it. But what that could mean about him hit him with more force than he was expecting. In the privacy of a hotel or their room at the frat house, he could be whoever he liked with Devon. But outside of those walls, the impact of that kind of relationship on his life would be far-reaching and potentially catastrophic.

“Hey,” Devon said softly, giving Hunter’s knee a squeeze. “You’ve gone ten shades of white. Take a breath and look at me.”

Hunter looked up.

“Listen to me, Hunt. You don’t have to make it a big thing. We drank a little too much. We fooled around. That’s it. Even if you decide you might be bi, it doesn’t mean anything has to change. Bi means you have another option—an option that people readily accept. I would never tell anyone about what happened between us. No one ever has to know you went there. Your friends, your family. They’ll never know. And I don’t expect anything more from you than friendship. Just because we did this once doesn’t mean we have to do it again. You wanted to experiment. We did. Now we can just shower, get drunk, and eat our way through the room service menu.”

Hunter gripped the towel tight in his hands, letting all of that sink in, trying to keep the anxiety at bay. Devon was right. This didn’t have to change things. The question was—did he want it to? He let out a long, tense exhale. “A drink sounds fucking fantastic.”

Devon smiled. “You jump in the shower. I’ll make the call.”

Devon moved to get up, but Hunter grabbed his forearm. “Dev, even if this was a mistake, I’m glad I made it with you.”

Devon’s smile stayed in place, but something sad flashed in his eyes. “What are friends for if you can’t make mistakes with them, right?”

“Right,” Hunter said without any enthusiasm.

Devon slipped out of his grasp then and headed to the living room without looking back.

That’s when Hunter finally let the panic fully take over. Bright, blazing panic.

He might have been able to handle the idea of being bi.

He might’ve been able to handle that he’d fooled around with his roommate.

But what he couldn’t handle was the realization that he was falling in love with him.

College—2 weeks later

Devon should’ve skipped the goddamn party. He rarely put in more than an appearance at Thursday night keggers at the frat house. It was all about getting wasted and getting laid, which meant cheap beer and lots of girls. Not his scene. But he’d promised Ahmed that he’d introduce him to Jory, the girl from his accounting class. So until Jory showed up, Devon had parked himself on the couch with a beer in an attempt to look like he was participating.

It had all been going fine until an already-buzzed Hunter had plopped onto the couch across from him with some blond chick hanging off him. The girl was wearing white pants that looked like they’d need to be surgically removed from her skin and a shimmery top that kept catching the light and making Devon’s eyes hurt. She had a Solo cup clutched in her hand and was rambling on about how hot Hunter looked when he wore his baseball uniform, her syrupy accent dripping all over him. Hunter had a drunken, tilted smile on his face that either represented interest or complete oblivion. Devon couldn’t tell.

Not that it should matter.

Since the night in the hotel room, he and Hunter had agreed to not have a repeat performance. Hunter had told him that he didn’t want him to move. Devon had admitted he really didn’t want to leave either and that starting anything with a guy who wasn’t sure and wasn’t out really wasn’t an option anyway. At that point, the decision had been made. Dev wouldn’t move. He and Hunter would go back to being just friends. Rewind. Restart. Like that was so fucking easy.

Since then, they’d managed not to make things awkward by an unspoken, carefully executed plan of rarely being alone together. Hunter had taken a sudden interest in going out and coming home too trashed for any real conversation. And Devon had spent more time studying in the library in the last two weeks than he had all semester.

Devon told himself it was for the best. He wasn’t going to date someone who couldn’t be open about being together. He’d done enough goddamned hiding in high school. And Hunter wouldn’t fuck up his family situation by fooling around with a boy. Their friendship would endure. Win-win.

But as he watched the blonde drape herself over Hunter and kiss him, something tight and tense burrowed in Devon’s chest. He took a long pull off his beer and tried to drag his eyes away. A few others drifted into the space, taking seats wherever they could find them, and distracted Devon from the torture for a minute. The couch squeaked as Brad, one of his frat brothers, and Brad’s girlfriend took the spots next to Devon. Conversation swelled around him, and Hunter and the blonde seemed oblivious to anything besides each other. He doubted Hunt had even noticed Devon was in the room.

Devon was about to get up and bail, feeling altogether antisocial at the moment. But then Alice, one of his friends from their sister sorority, strolled up with a dramatic sigh. “I am so over the meat market in the kitchen.” She plopped down in Devon’s lap, some of her hair sliding out of its topknot. “You mind, gorgeous? All the seats are taken.”

Devon smiled, happy to see a friendly face and someone to distract him from watching Hunter in all his hetero jock glory. “Just make yourself at home, Al.”

“Let me stay and I’ll tell you all about the meat in the kitchen.” She looped her arm around the back of his neck and waggled her eyebrows.

“Spare me. I live with most of these guys. Not interested.”

“You and me both.” She leaned against the arm of the couch, situating herself sideways over Devon’s lap. “You should hear some of the lines I got fed tonight. I’d need way more alcohol for any of that lame shit to work. Or a lobotomy.”

Mark, one of guys who’d joined them, looked Alice’s way. “Oh, come on, beautiful. Give the guys a break. They probably got all tongue-tied seeing you in that skirt.”

She sniffed. “Are you giving me a line while talking about other guys’ lines? That’s very meta.”

Mark grinned wide. “How about this? You need a lap. I’ve got one, too. Hop on, sugar.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “I’ll pass. I’d prefer a lap that’s not going to poke me.”

Mark laughed and rocked his hips suggestively. “You might enjoy that. Or you, Crowe. Just let me get a few more beers in me first.”

Devon groaned. “Mark, I’ve never been happier that I’m gay and that you’re exceptionally straight.”

Alice snorted and Mark flipped a good-natured middle-finger salute Devon’s way. “You two don’t know what you’re missing. I’d rock your worlds.”

Alice gave Mark a half smile that made Devon think the lines may have worked on her after all. Devon was about to tease her about it, but then another voice cut in.

“Gay, huh?” A guy Devon only vaguely recognized smirked in their direction, his eyes half-mast in that one-too-many-beers way. “So even if that chick wiggles around on you in that hot little skirt, you won’t get hard?”

“Dude, I don’t even know you. You gotta buy me a drink before we get to talk about what makes me hard,” Devon said, trying to keep his tone light, even though he sensed more in the question than the good-natured curiosity his frat brothers threw his way.

Hunter looked up at that.

Drunk guy’s lip curled. “Something’s wrong with you if that chick can’t get you going. Some perv probably fucked with you when you were a kid, huh? Turned you into a fag.”

Alice gasped, and Devon’s jaw clenched.
Great, one of these idiots.
He’d met enough of them in his life, but it never failed to make his teeth gnash and his stomach twist.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Hunter barked from his spot on the couch before Devon could respond. “Call him a name again, and we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking A,” Brad said, sitting up straighter next to Devon.

Devon reached out and put a hand on Brad’s arm. “Don’t. Seriously not worth it.”

“Oh yeah, Riley?” the idiot said, swinging all his focus to Hunter. “Am I insulting your bitch? I heard you two room together. Bet he’s sucking your dick every night so you’ll fight his fights for him.”

Devon quickly shifted Alice off his lap and stood as Hunter got to his feet, rage in his stance. Devon stepped in front of him and put his hands to Hunter’s chest, feeling his friend vibrate with anger. “Easy, man. I’ve got this.”

“Aw, look at that, Riley. Your man trying to protect you,” the guy said. “Maybe I was wrong. You’re the one doing the cocksucking.”

Murder flared in Hunter’s eyes. “That’s right, Jones. Every fucking night. You got beat out of the starting pitcher position by a Grade A cocksucker. How’s that feel?”

Devon’s mouth fell open. Oh, shit. Hunter must be way drunker than he thought.

The blonde’s eyes went big behind Hunter’s shoulder.

A scoff came from behind Devon, the idiot not backing off. “You hear that, Bradley? You’ve got yourself a frat of freaks.”

Devon spun around as Brad stood and took a menacing step forward. “Get the fuck out of here, asshole. There’s an IQ requirement of two to get in here and you just failed.”

“You gonna make me?” Jones asked, holding out his hands in a bring-it-on motion.

“Damn right,” Mark joined in.

Something sharp and sweet moved through Devon at the sight of his brothers standing up for him, for not flinching at what Hunter had said, for having his back no matter what.

“Oh, you’re gonna need to suck a lot of dick tonight, gay boy. You’ve got your whole team assembled.”

That did it. Devon stepped in front of the other guys. “I don’t need anyone to fight my fights for me. You want to come at me? Come at me.”

The guy’s smile was slow. “Wouldn’t be right to hit a girl.”

Then the dude swung. Devon dodged the drunken arc and charged. Jones hit the wall before he’d realized he’d missed, and Devon landed a solid right hook. The pain that seared through Devon’s knuckles at the contact was totally worth it to see the dazed look on the idiot’s face. Jones tried to swing back, landing a few grazing blows and one that hurt like a son of a bitch in his ribs. But Devon had the advantage being sober and taller. A crowd was gathering, and he could feel Hunter and his other brothers behind him, but he appreciated that they didn’t jump in yet. They were letting Devon handle it.

When Devon landed a punch to the guy’s gut that sent Jones sliding to the floor and a picture of the graduating class of 1993 crashing down along with him, Devon backed up and shook out his hand. “Now look who’s on his knees for me.”

The guy tossed out a few standards from the homophobe handbook as he tried to get to his feet, and Devon kicked him back down, anger boiling over.

Brad put a hand on him, easing him back. “We’ve got him.”

Devon let himself get pulled back, but he was having trouble catching his breath and regaining his composure. So much of him wanted to rail on the guy—give payback for all the times he’d been called hateful names, for all the shit people like this put him and others through, for this idiot outing Hunter. But when he saw Alice’s wide, scared eyes and some of the gazes of the crowd, he knew he’d taken it too far already.

Devon stalked back to the couch and lowered himself onto it while Brad and Mark grabbed Jones by the arms and hauled him outside.

Alice was kneeling in front of him in an instant. “Oh my god, sweetie. Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

He tried to take a deep breath, but that shit hurt and he let out a groan. “Fuck.”

“Here, out of the way,” said a deep, familiar voice. “We have a first aid kit under the sink in the hall bathroom. Can you grab that, Alice? And everyone else, party’s over.”

“Sure,” Alice said. There were grumbles from everyone else.

Devon looked up to see Hunter shifting into the spot Alice had vacated. His eyes met Devon’s. “Where does it hurt?”

Devon could tell Hunter was fighting through the haze of the alcohol. His gaze was focused but his movements were slow and clumsy—at least in comparison to Hunt’s normal graceful athleticism. “I’m fine. He just got me in the ribs. Kinda hurts to breathe.”

Hunter frowned. “He could’ve cracked one. Which side?”

Devon put his hand to his left side, and Hunter went right for the hem of his T-shirt. He pushed it up, examining the expanse of skin beneath. Gentle fingers touched Devon’s ribs. Devon closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. There was pain, but the warm tingle that traveled over his skin from the touch was something altogether different. Hunter was here, at his side, touching him in public.

The other guys came back in, letting them know that Jones had been handled. Brad tucked his hands in his pockets, frowning. “How bad is it?”

“We might need to bring him to the ER to get checked out,” Hunter said, not moving his hand away.

Devon groaned. “Fuck that. I’ll be fine. Just give me some whiskey.”

“Or bring him upstairs, Riley, and do some of that Grade A cocksucking you were talking about. That’ll make him feel better,” Mark said with a grin.

Devon choked and Hunter stilled.

Devon recovered first. “Then you’ll get jealous, Mark. I think it’s your turn tonight. The rest of you can get in line since now we’re the fraternity of cocksucking freaks. Just don’t use teeth this time. You know I hate that.”

“Oh, if that’s happening, then I’m totally staying around to watch,” Alice said, strolling back into the room with the first aid kit. She handed the white box to Hunter and plopped onto the other couch in the spot where Hunter’s date used to be. “And I’m taking pictures, so make sure and give me good angles. A girl’s gotta have a good stock for her spank bank.”

“A girl spank bank?” Mark turned and put his hand over his heart. “I am so fucking in love with you right now. Marry me?”

Devon laughed and then cringed when pain shot through his abdomen.

“Let’s see some action first and then I’ll decide.” She crossed her legs and leaned back with a smirk. “I’m waiting.”

Mark turned and clapped his hands. “All right, Riley, out of the way. Time to dish out some man love. I’ve got a kinky girl to impress. And someone get the Listerine ready for afterward.”

Everyone laughed, and Hunter’s shoulders eased down a bit. This was all a joke. They were assuming Hunter’s earlier comment was just talking shit like they all were now. Everyone was used to Hunter and Devon play flirting, being over the top. The ball of tension in Devon’s chest unfurled a bit.

Hunter pressed a folded-up gauze to a cut on Devon’s eyebrow. “Mark, if you think you’re getting anywhere near my man, you’re crazy. I’ve got this shit on lockdown.”

The words were said in jest, but Hunter’s expression was pensive as he dabbed the blood from Devon’s brow and put a bandage on it.

“Selfish bastard,” Mark declared. “Come on, Brad. That leaves you, you ugly fucker. Let’s give this woman a show.”

“Touch me anywhere, dude, and I’m punching you in the junk,” Brad said, deadpan. “Riley, do we need to get this kid to the clinic?”

“No,” Devon said.

“Maybe,” Hunter said at the same time.

Devon batted away Hunter’s hand and forced himself to sit up without wincing too much. His side was stabbing him, his knuckles aching, and his head was booming. “I’ll be fine. He probably just bruised my ribs. The last thing I feel like doing is sitting in the ER for hours. I’ll take something for the pain and call it a night.”

“You sure, hon?” Alice asked, sitting forward, brows knit.

Devon stood, bracing a hand on Hunter’s shoulder when pain kicked him in the side at the movement. “I’m good.”

Mark frowned. “Man, maybe you should go. I mean, you turned down head from me. You may have a concussion or something. You’re clearly out of your mind.”

The words were meant to be funny, but the genuine concern on the guy’s face surprised Devon and warmed him. God, how had he managed to find friends like these in a place like this? Without thinking too long about it, he reached out and grabbed Mark’s shirt.

“Oh, come here, stud.” Devon drew him close for a sound, smacking kiss on the lips. It was a chaste peck, but Devon made a dramatic
mmm
sound and it earned appropriate gasps from the audience.

When he pushed Mark away, Mark’s eyes were wide but then they crinkled with laughter. “Holy shit, dude.”