Page 32 of Knock Knock

Not Xavi. He got grouped into that type because of his association with me, but he was a guy who thought about things without realizing he was thinking about them. He knew how to react to an outside force and adapt to it better than I did. When Maddox was in jail, Xavi took charge and did whatever it took to get shit done. Me? I just worried about my brother and did whatever Xavi told me to do.

In most cases throughout my life, I felt like a failure who only had the odd win because Xavi pushed me over the finish line. Now I needed to buck up and get a win all on my own so I could be someone worthy of more than his friendship.

Because…fuck. I wanted more. I wanted him to be mine somehow.

Look at that body!Dark hair and tanned skin. Defined muscle but a lack of bulk because he ate like shit. Scars I could match to memories and the terribly done, faded blue spiderweb tattoos on his elbows because he thought they were cool when he was seventeen. They weren’t cool then, and they were less cool now, but he rocked them with pride because he paid for them with literal blood and sweat. They’d been a bet he placed at Garron Fight Night. He’d put his brand-new work boots on the line, and the guy he fought had put tattoos up for winnings. Xavi was scrawny back then, but he wanted the tattoos really badly, so he took a beating until I gave him a pep talk, and then he won the fight and beamed a bloody smile at the world.

Same guy did Devon’s skull tattoo in the shed behind his mom’s trailer. They were both… just so shitty.

But they were a part of him, and looking at them now, I loved that I was there for the whole memory. I looked higher, taking in the single hemp necklace he wore. It matched one of his many bracelets, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t taken it off in years. It would disintegrate into nothing eventually, but he still loved it. Maybe I’d learn to make him a new one somehow. His dark hair was longer than usual, covering half his neck and sticking up in some spots while plastered to his head in others.

“I can feel you creeping on me,” he said in a groggy voice. “Carry on.” He cocked his knee out, giving me a better view of his ass. Black boxer-briefs hugged his cheeks and outlined his balls. “Tight, right? I’ve been doing squats.”

Was I allowed to crawl across the floor and get up on him? “When do you do squats?”

“I did like seven squats last week,” he said, turning to face me. He winced when his toe hit the mattress. “Did they work?”

“Mhm.” I licked my lips. “Eight would have been better.”

“No time for eight,” Xavi said, grinning at me like a cute fucker. “Is this weird?”

“Does it feel weird?”

He shook his head and tucked his hand under his cheek. “My dick is hard.”

“My back is sore. Are we just saying random shit?”

“I’m trying to entice you into touching it without making it weird.”

Simply by saying that, he made it weird, but I kind of loved it. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the peeling ceiling. “Well, like I said, my back is sore, so if you want me to—”

My mattress dipped when Xavi crawled on, straddling my legs. He sat right on my dick and pressed his ass against it, making me groan. “Well, I have a broken toe, but you don’t hear me bitching.” He looked down at me, smiling. “Oh no! I tripped! Wonder where my dick will end up.” He rocked on my lap and my hands went up his thighs. “Can you picture me up here like this? Riding dick?”

Didn’t take much to picture it, to be honest. My cock was restrained by my tight underwear, but it still slotted between his ass cheeks. Xavi bounced a bit, getting a feel for it. When his lips shifted from smirking to parting in awe, I tightened my fingers and dug them into his skin.

“Are we gonna skip the foreplay part and go straight to fucking? Because we’ve barely kissed, and it’s taking me a hot sec to switch from best friends to… you sitting on my dick.” I watched him, nervous but excited. We didn’t skip the awkward phase. We created it. And lived in it. This was like waking up in an episode of theTwilight Zone. I’d never seen the show—read the blurb, figured it’d go over my head—but I thought it was about being in strange realities, and this was definitely a strange reality. One that should have felt weird as shit, but the weird part felt right. We were familiar with being in random scenarios together, but instead of this one feeling daunting, it was taunting.

“Nah,” Xavi said, hands landing on my pecs. “Kinda wanna lick a dick first.”

“A dick?”

“Yourdick. Or do you prefer cock? I’m still working out the gay lingo.”

I didn’t care what he called it as long as he wanted it. I’d never really been wanted before. Sure, I managed a sex life just fine, but I mostly gave credit to him for that. Now I knew what it felt like to be the focus of his attention, and fuck, I was afraid to get a little too comfy there.

“How do we just turn things sexy?” I asked. “I mean, this is pretty sexy, but I feel like we’re floating in the ocean, forgetting we need to either swim or tread.”

“That was so philosophical.”

“I know.” I nodded to a calendar taped to the wall that had it quoted. “You feel good up there.”

“I can tell.” He ground down on my hardening cock. “But I don’t know what to do about it,” he admitted.

Yeah, me neither. I was a fairly forward person, but this was new territory. Wanting Xavi and actually being able to have him was the newest, but also… I knew next to nothing about gay sex. Gay anything. Gay logistics. I wasn’t gonna freak out about it like Maddox did—fuck, did we laugh behind his back—but I was confident enough innotbeing confident to admit to it.

“I don’t know how to be gay. Should we watch porn?” I asked.

“No. We should flounder around and fuck it all up because it’ll make it funner,” Xavi said, grinning.

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