Page 28 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

He whimpers. He actually whimpers into my face. Our eyes are locked, our breathing synchronized like we’ve been rehearsing for this all our lives. “Miles.”

“Come on, little guy. Match my speed. You can do it, Dare. Look at you stroking yourself so good for me.”

From the way he’s sitting and how small his hand strokes are each time he pumps, I can tell he’s not working with much down there, and I have no idea why, but it makes my cock ache. Knowing he’s smaller than me—knowing I’m big and strong, able to protect him in every way—has me growling right into his face.

He pulls back, resting his head on the back of the chair, thrusting into his hand. God. He’s thrashing around like he’shaving a seizure, and knowing it’s because of me—because of what I’m sharing with him—drags me closer to the edge.

I switch things up by replacing my right hand with my left, even though I always have trouble coming when I use my left hand. My right hand is coated in pre-cum, and I lift it, cupping his cheek, coating his skin. His eyes widen, and I can tell he wants to explore, but he must be scared of freaking me out. As much as it pains me to do, I close my eyes and tilt my head to the ceiling, giving him privacy under the veil of my being lost in pleasure. Sure enough, the moment my eyes are off him, he moves my hand over his mouth, whining as he repeatedly breathes me in. I don’t say anything as his tongue extends, collecting my pre-cum like a souvenir. The way his velvety tongue feels on my palm gives me the briefest hint of what it’s going to feel like when it’s licking at my cock.

Jesus Christ. It’s not even hypothetical anymore. I want Darren’s mouth on my cock. I want my best friend between my legs, sucking me like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Gonna be such a good boy for you. Gonna come so hard.”

All pretenses of stick figures and conversion therapy fall by the wayside as we stroke ourselves. They don’t matter. Nothing in this world matters aside from our shaking arms and swollen cocks. I’m getting close, and I need more. More connection. More of his unhinged obsession with me. More of my Dare.

“Darren?” I rasp. He blinks his eyes open, looking dazed.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you ready?

He nods frantically. “So ready.”

Our foreheads touch. “Come for me.”

Darren’s eyes roll back in his head as release finds him, and the sight of him mid-orgasm is enough to send me over the edge, erupting against the tablecloth, moaning obscenely into his face.

As soon as my orgasm wanes, shame sinks me to my knees. There, on my office floor, looking up at my cum-drunk best friend, all those old feelings hit at once. Like I’m a freak. Like I’m a failure. It feels like God has abandoned me on this old, cold floor, damning my soul like it meant nothing to Him. Like I mean nothing to Him.

I look up at Dare, and he’s looking down at me with a cautious expression. “Thank you,” he says, and it feels like a gut-punch. I want to scream at him that he shouldn’t thank me for single handedly walking him through the gates of Hell. He hops off the chair and buttons his jeans before tossing the tablecloth behind him. He kneels in front of me and squeezes my arm. “Thank you for helping me find my way back to the straight and narrow.” He sighs like I’m taking away his only hope, but there’s still so much hope in his eyes. I think we both know what’s going through my head right now, and while I’m thankful he hasn’t called me out, I’m not thankful that he looks so torn-up about it. He pulls me in for a hug, whispering into my ear. “Thank you for protecting me, Miles. If you ever need me to return the favor, I’m here.”

It’s a promise I plan to take him up on. Tonight, maybe, once he sneaks into my room.

chapter eleven

Miles drops me off shortly after six. There’s a fancy blue car in our driveway that I’ve never seen before. When I make it inside, there’s a short man with a red face and a super-sweatyforehead. He’s got one of the tissues from the coffee table in his hand, and he’s using it to dab his sweat away. Unfortunately, my father is a cheap bastard, and he only lets Mom buy off-brand to save money, so after the second swipe, the tissue is crumbling in his hand, leaving little tufts of paper across his upper face. The man stands and extends his hand, and I kind of want to refuse to shake it, because it’s just as sweaty as his head. The glare Dad gives me tells me resistance is not an option, so I soldier on, placing my perfectly dry hand in his slick palm. My only consolation is seeing the black eye my father is sporting. There’s even busted blood vessels in his eyes, making them look like they’re covered in red spiderwebs. Good. Hope it hurt. Hope Miles hurts him again.

“You must be Darren,” the pasty man says. “I’m Pastor Collins. I lead the flock at West Clark Apostolic.” He places his other hand on top of mine, sandwiching me between his palms, his sweat sticking to me like adhesive, bonding us together. Fucking gag.

“It’s nice to meet you, Pastor Collins,” I say, as expected by my parents. Dad is nodding semi-proudly at me, but Mom’s beaming ear to ear.

“He’s going to lead you to the light, sugar,” she says, speaking absolute gibberish as far as I’m concerned.

“Pardon?”

“You may beg,” Pastor McSweatStain informs me, “but only God can issue your pardon. He’s ready to offer absolution, son. Do you want to be redeemed?”

What I want is for this greasy-looking motherfucker to let go of my hand, but God knows that’s a losing battle. Jesus, it’s like he’s fucking me with his eyes. His gaze is intense. Strong and strange, leaving me feeling queasy.

“I’m already in the midst of an awakening,” I lie. “Pastor Brooks has been leading me back to the light, sir. I appreciate the offer, but—”

Dad claps a hand against my back, giving the room a playful smile. There’s nothing playful in his touch, though. His nails are digging into my shoulder, out of Pastor Collins’ sight. “I no longer believe Pastor Brooks has your best interests at heart, Darren.”

“What does that mean?”

Dad’s eyes narrow. “You know exactly what it means. I will not stand idly by and allow him to throw your world into chaos, thrusting you deeper and deeper into sin.”

“Dad, I—”

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