Page 36 of Shiver
He laughs, his gray eyes flashing to mine. His cheeks pink, then he’s back to his food.
I really don’t mind feeding him. For the last week, I’ve been doing it without realizing. But already, I can feel myself mentally preparing to buy three times as much food as I normally do. No matter how loud the panic in me is screaming. Regardless of how insistent I am on drawing a fucking line in the sand and staying on my side.
Iwantto take care of him. The fact that he needs me to only feeds into some weird hidden desire that I didn’t know I had. I’m gripping my fork so tight my knuckles are white, just so I don’t reach for him again.
Hejustlearned I’m gay. Shouldn’t that make him want to put more physical distance between us? Why is it having the complete opposite effect?
Egon takes my plate when I’m done. I watch him clean the dishes. When he’s finished wiping the counters, he pauses with his back toward me. His shoulders rise and fall with his deep breathing.
“Rakesh?”
I lick my lips. “Yes?”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
No. No! Tell him no. Fuck me, tell him no, goddamn it.
“Yes.”
“In-in your bed?”
Jeezus kill me now. My cock jumps up, loving this turn of events. This was not in the plan. I mean, I suppose it was, but not like this. Not when I’m suddenly having an internal existential crisis.
“If you’re comfortable to sleep in my bed with me, yes.”
A shiver travels through him and I swear I hear him groan. He nods but doesn’t turn. “I’m going to… the bathroom. Can I use your shower?”
Images of him in my shower, naked, using my soap, stroking his cock run through my head. My dick is so fucking hard. I nod, knowing he doesn’t see me. “Yes,” I finally answer. Swallowing. Cursing the quiet tone of my voice.
He briefly meets my eyes as he practically runs to the bathroom. When he’s shut inside, I drop my hand below the table and squeeze my cock hard in my pants. Calm the fuck down. I squeeze myself so hard that I’m wincing. When that doesn’t seem to deflate my cock, I shift to give my balls the same treatment.
But then the shower turns on and I know he’s naked. The water breaks and I know he’s wet.
I stand and cross the room, flicking on the television. I need something, anything, to distract me. This is going to be a torturous night. I’m going to fucking die.
There’s a voice in my head that says ‘he knows you’re gay and wants to be in bed with you,’ but I’m trying to stuff a ball gag in that voice. Egon needs comfort. He needs to be taken care of. He needs me.
Which is probably one of the most terrifying realizations in my entire spoiled-kid life.
I can’t be needed. I’m emotionally unavailable. He’s going to get hurt. Even as that knowledge sobers me, my dick is outright ignoring the voice of reason.
Taking a deep breath, I hold it and do the most ridiculous thing I can think of—picture women naked. And yep… that does it. Dick deflating.
Fuck, I’m messed up. Not the gay part of me. The part of me that’s negatively objectifying women for my own gain. Even if it is mentally.
I’m leaning against the edge of my bed, staring absently at my television when Egon steps out of the bathroom. I look at him and freeze. He’s still dripping wet with nothing but a towel around him. Had I not had him pressed against me for so damn long tonight, my eyes wouldn’t trail down his body now. But I’ve lost complete control of everything.
Egon’s smile is shy when I make it back to his eyes. I’m pretty sure I’m hungrily looking at him at this point. “I don’t like wearing dirty clothes,” he says quietly and once more, the tone of embarrassment accompanies the flush in his cheeks.
I’m moving without thought. He needs. And fuck if I’m not helpless to do whatever it takes to make sure he has whatever he needs. Food. Clothes. Comfort. I don’t give a fuck, apparently.
I pull sweatpants and a shirt from my drawer and walk to him. My body tingles in awareness as I get closer. He’s naked. Only wearing a towel. Naked Egon.
His eyes don’t leave mine as I hold out the articles of clothing. He takes them, his hands brushing mine. His smile is too cute; it hurts my chest. “Thank you.”
Not trusting the words that might leave my mouth, I nod. He turns and I take in the mouth watering view from behind. He returns to the bathroom and though he closes the door, he doesn’t latch it. As if it's an invitation to join him.
I groan, closing my eyes. Rubbing the base of my hands into them until there are bright flashes behind my closed lids. Then, after grabbing more clothes, I head for the bathroom and enter as soon as he exits. I change before brushing my teeth. Since the toothbrush is damp, I know he’s just used it. For some reason, that makes my dick twitch in excitement again.
