Page 78 of Poolside

Chuck nodded, the movement jerky and sharp, and shifted one of his hands from Tommy’s chest and reached down between them to grasp his dripping cock.

“Fuck,” Tommy breathed as he watched Chuck grip himself. He wanted to look everywhere at once. He wanted to watch Chuck’s cock sliding in and out of his fist. He wanted to watch the long, sinewy muscles of Chuck’s quads flex and stretch as he rose and fell. He wanted to watch his copper lashes fluttering and his swollen lips part every time Tommy’s cock slid over his prostate.

He ended up staring into Chuck’s eyes, and it was with denim-blue filling his vision that Tommy came, thrusting his hips off of the bed as he chased the overwhelming, almost-painful high of his orgasm.

He was still going, cock pulsing when Chuck found his release. His mouth dropped in a silent scream as he shot white streaks over Tommy’s bare torso. It was too much, watching Chuck come apart like that, and Tommy had to clench his jaw as Chuck’s hole tightened around his softening cock.

Chuck slumped over him, his breaths loud and ragged. Reflexively, Tommy ran his fingers through Chuck’s wild curls. Chuck hummed, and Tommy smiled, repeating the motion.

Tommy carefully rolled them over so he hovered above Chuck. Tommy looked down as he slipped from his body, his eyes wide as he watched his cum spill out of Chuck’s soft, pink hole.

“Holy fuck,” Tommy breathed, placing his hands on either side of Chuck’s ass to hold him open. “That’s so hot.”

He heard Chuck huff a quiet laugh.

“I wish I could go again,” Tommy said wistfully, bending over to kiss Chuck’s inner thigh before climbing out of the bed to get them a cloth for cleaning up.

Tommy cleaned them both and then slid into the small bed next to Chuck. “Ready to snuggle?”

Chuck snorted, but scooted so that his longer frame was curled up against Tommy’s front. He looked beautifully rumpled. Exhausted too, but Tommy supposed that was probably a result of the thorough fucking over the past few days. And he hadn’t slept well the night before…shit.

They both needed to get some sleep.

Tommy wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up, only that it was dark out. He wouldn’t have woken, but the bed was empty beside him. He sat up, glancing around until he found Chuck, sitting in one of the chairs in the corner, his figure barely illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the gauzy curtains.

Tommy rubbed his eyes. “You okay?” he asked. It was too dark to make out the expression on his face.

“I’m fine, T. Go back to bed.”

Good. Chuck was fine.It was that thought and the relief that came with it that had him rolling over and falling right back to sleep.

CHAPTER22

ANYTHING BUT

CHUCK

Fuck.

It had all been too good to be true, hadn’t it?

His new relationship with Tommy and his ravenous sex drive? The way the little, everyday anxieties had been absent from his life? He’d been an idiot to think things were actually getting better. He’d really believed the new medication was working, so much so that he’d let himself hope.

But there was no arguing with the way he felt. The restless, frantic energy that had filled his body over the last few days had abandoned him completely, punting him off the edge of some proverbial cliff to free-fall into the dark, desolate solitude of his own mind.

He hadn’t slept—couldn’t, with the looming fear that every good thing that had happened recently was about to be yanked away, the rug pulled out from under a fleeting fantasy. He’d gone downstairs in search of coffee at about 5:00 am, when there was no hope of getting more sleep. He’d watched Tommy for a moment, the piece of hair that flopped down onto his forehead and the spot of drool on his pillow made him seem so sweet, gentle, and endearingly boyish.

Chuck knew Tommy was flawed, that he came with baggage and self-doubt and pieces of his past that gave him uneven edges. But where Tommy’s imperfections gave him character and made him relatable, the darkness that clawed at Chuck made him feel unworthy of any of it.

It wasn’t getting any better. Even with the cup of coffee he’d grabbed from the breakfast spread and the fresh breeze tracing over his too-tight skin, even with his feet dangling in the water and the early sunlight dancing on the surface of the lake, Chuck felt lower than ever.

Tommy found him at some point, and his touch on Chuck’s rigid shoulders felt a million miles away. “Wasn’t sure where you were,” Tommy said, lowering himself to sit on the wooden dock beside him.

From the corner of his eye he saw Tommy smile at him, and he knew he was supposed to say something. He needed to reassure Tommy that everything was fine, this washisday to impress his boss, and—Fuck, his swim. Chuck couldn’t stand in the way of that. He couldn’t let his own bullshit weigh down the man who he cared about so deeply.

It all felt impossible. He willed his face to do something approximating a smile and nudged his elbow gently against Tommy’s. It was nowhere near enough—he knew that, but it was better than nothing.

Chuck tried to gather himself as Tommy led them back to the house to join everyone for breakfast. He heard the nervous turn in Tommy’s voice as he bantered with his co-workers, falling back into his habit of showboating to hide his vulnerability. Chuck could hear it, but there was nothing he could do but put one foot in front of the other and try to keep his head upright.

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