Page 31 of Down My Chimney

Blake frowned and walked over to my bookcase, crossing his arms as he stared at the worn-out paperbacks of my favorite fantasy series.

“Everyone keeps asking me that,” he said, his voice a little flinty. “I’m fine.”

“Everyone?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “My parents.”

“When did you—I mean, did I miss something? I thought you said you were busy this weekend. That’s why I didn’t come down to visit.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Iambusy. I shouldn’t be here, probably. I was just in the library last night, and it was so late, and Henry, I felt like I was going to die if I stayed there a minute longer. I just couldn’t do it. I had to get out.”

“So you drove up here?” I said. “In the middle of the night?”

“I mean, it makes for lighter traffic.” He laughed softly. “I was planning on crashing at my parents’ house for a few hours, then texting you. But I woke the dogs up, and then they woke my parents up, and I just—ugh. It’s been a long morning.”

Long night was more like it. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. And Blake still wasn’t looking at me. I didn’t want to push, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t okay, no matter what he said to the contrary.

“Come here,” I said. “I didn’t get to hug you when you came in.”

Blake turned, his eyes still feverishly bright, and smiled. Even though my gut was telling me something was wrong, I didn’t stand a chance against that smile. I pulled him into my arms and pressed my face to his neck, inhaling deeply.

“I missed you,” I murmured.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

His lips were next to my ear, and I shivered as he kissed my jaw. He hadn’t shaved, and his stubble rubbed against my face. He sucked the skin on my neck, and I had a strong suspicion I was going to end up with a hickey later today. I wasn’t sure I cared.

We stumbled back to my bed, landing in a heap. My hands were under his shirt, and his were at my waist, palming my cock through my pajama pants. God, that felt good. I needed there to be fewer layers of clothing between us. I needed there to bezerolayers. I needed—fuck, I justneeded.

I tore his T-shirt off, then went to work on his jeans, only stopping long enough for him to pull my shirt off over my head, and to help him tug my pants off. My feet got tangled up in the fabric, and I accidentally kicked the wall in my haste to get free. The house shook gently, and we both froze.

“I, uh—I should go lock the door,” I said, remembering for the first time that my parents were just down the hall.

“Good idea.”

I slipped out from under him and stuck my head out into the hall, listening for a second. No sounds came from my parents’ bedroom. But still, we needed to be careful. When I flipped the lock and turned back to the bed, Blake was watching me, desire plain in his eyes.

“Why do we spend so much time wearing clothes around each other?” he asked, his hand drifting to his hard cock.

I laughed. “That’s a good question. Considering we don’t really goouton dates, what are we even doing besides having sex?”

He looked stricken. “Henry, I—”

“It’s okay.” I swallowed around the sudden jangle in my chest.

Itwasokay. Mostly. But I didn’t want to deal with the mess of feelings tied up with Blake not being out. I hadn’t seen him in so long. I didn’t want to ruin this moment.

“Really,” I said, coming back to the bed. “It’s okay.”

I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, our cocks slipping past each other. I took us both on one hand and stroked as Blake’s fingers dug into my hips. I’d been fast asleep five minutes ago, but every cell in my body was in overdrive now. Precum leaked from both our slits, and I used it to slick our cocks. I kissed him, hot and hungry.

“I’m so glad you came,” I whispered.

“Haven’t come yet,” he whispered back, his smile dangerous. “Think you could help me with that?”

“Depends.” I grinned. “Have you been good?” I nipped at his earlobe. “Or have you been naughty?”

He laughed. “You saw that picture? You didn’t like it or comment.”

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