Page 118 of Saving Sparrow
“Tellhim? We don’t even know what that was out there.” I gestured toward the bedroom as I backed away from him. “He wasn’t even awake, was he? What if we tell him and screw everything up? I-I don’t want to screw everything up, Quentin. I’d rather just keep him as a friend.”
He scratched his head, baffled by this. “Uh, so what do we do?”
“Nothing. We tell each other the truth about how we feel from now on, and we don’t act weird around him. That’s the best plan.”
He nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “What are these fucking nightmares even about, anyway?” He crossed his arms, leaning a hip against the island dresser. “What if this happens again, Guelly?”
I’d been about to answer him, but then he jumped in with an even scarier thought.
“And what if he likes us too? I mean… What if he feels the same way we do?”
I hadn’t thought about that. I went over all our interactions, trying to see if there were signs that Elliott’s feelings for us had changed. I couldn’t find any, not really. Nothing outside of typical behavior for the three of us. But what if…
“If he does feel the same way,” I started, “he’s gonna have to make the first move. Because we can’t be wrong.”
“And we can’t lose him,” Quentin added with a sigh.
“Right.”
Quentin jabbed a finger at me. “If he doesn’t want us, and we have to sit back and watch him date dudes and—”
“Let’s not think about that right now. Please.” I rubbed at my temples, a new fear added to the long list of terrifying things now. “I can’t deal with anything else tonight. I need some sleep.”
The air inside the closet thickened, and I swallowed as Quentin whispered, “No sleep tonight, Guelly.” His cock hardened in his underwear. “I gotta fuck you.” He sounded broken up about it, maybe because he knew I was still achy from last night.
“We don’t have any lube in here.” I sidestepped him when he reached for me, backing deeper into the closet until my shoulders met a wall.
“Of course we do.” Quentin dug a bottle from his top drawer before pulling his dick through the wet pouch of his boxer briefs. “They’re all over the house. You know that. I need to be able to fuck you wherever and whenever I want.”
He stalked over to me, his dick fat and long, slick and shiny with his cum. He reached into the briefs again to scoop out whatever hadn’t soaked into the cotton yet. He painted my trembling lips with it, leaving me to lap it up as he lowered to his knees to drag my underwear off me.
My dick bobbed once it cleared the waistband, a drop of precum waiting for him at my slit. Quentin licked it clean with a moan, positioning one of my legs over his shoulder.
He took his time inserting one, then two, then three lubed fingers inside of me. More precum gushed from my tip. Quentin caught it with his tongue.
“Q,” I panted, riding his fingers.
“Whose ass is this, Guelly?” He brushed a finger against that special spot inside me, making my eyes roll back.
“Yours,” I breathed, grabbing his hair.
“And this cock?” he asked next, fisting my dick and stroking it.
“Yours, Quentin. It’ll always be yours.” Even if he ended up having to share me.
“Fuck yeah.” Quentin lifted me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around him. “I’ll take it easy,” he promised, spreading my ass cheeks and lowering me onto him.
“Please don’t,” I whispered, biting down on his shoulder to hold in my moan. The stretch and burn consumed every cell of my body as he bottomed out.
“Oh,fuck,” he groaned. “I feel better already, Guelly.” His breath caught, and my own emotions turned to tears again. “Hold on tight, baby.”
I held on for dear life, readying myself for the reconnection of our souls as he moved inside of me.
Miguel
Now
“We’re gonna fall,” Joshua whined, trying to wriggle free.
