Chapter Six

A Rod up the Butt

Seb

Over the course of the last week, I'd almost backed out multiple times.

This was going to be painful. For me, not for him. It was going to feel very, very unpleasant when Larkin eventually decided he'd had enough "practice" and was ready to share his newfound skills with other people.

I didn't know why I hadn't called it off.

Alright, I did know. I knew exactly why. I was a sad, desperate wolf pining for the person who didn't want me, but wanted to have sex with me so he could subsequently go and have sex with anyone else. This was all I'd ever get of him. This was the only chance I'd have to be that close to Larkin. To touch him.

He hadn't questioned why I'd agreed, but he didn't know the actual reason. He was oblivious. He thought I was doing him a favour.

I supposed, in the end, it would be just that—a favour. Because he was going to walk away completely fine, and I'd be the one left crushed. The outcome of this wasn't going to benefit me in any way. It was going to do the opposite.

After leaving the bar, we'd detoured back to the office so I could get my car. Then he'd followed behind me to my house, and several times I'd checked my rearview mirror to see if he'd changed his mind and turned around. He hadn't.

How many times had I imagined Larkin in my house? I didn't want to answer that—it was too pathetic to recall the nights I'd spent wishing he was beside me in my bed, the mornings wondering how he'd look sleep-rumpled and barely dressed in my kitchen, the weekends imagining us going for long walks after sleeping in and having lazy morning sex.

I couldn't think about that. This wasn't that. This was an arrangement, nothing more. I doubted he'd even want to spend the night.

As he met me on the front porch, nervously jangling his keys, I could see him taking everything in. The rocking chair my dad had built when I moved in. The fairy lights my sister had strung up along the railing. It was a modest two-bedroom that overlooked a small forest, but it was mine, and I took meticulous care of it.

"Nice house, bro," Larkin said after I'd unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him in.

"Thanks." I took off my shoes and left them on the rack. After a pause, Larkin did the same, then shifted into his fae form.

I stayed in my human one.

"Want a drink?" I asked, leading us through to the kitchen. He anxiously jangled his keys for a few seconds, before setting them down on the island and hovering beside it.

"No, I'm okay. Thanks." He wet his lips, alternating between looking around and glancing at me.

He looked really, really nervous. Chest aching, wishing I could reach over and cup his narrow face, soothe his anxiety, I nodded at the stool beside him. "Want to sit down?"

"'Kay." He swallowed and slid into the seat, almost tipping it as he did so.

The island between us felt like a buffer—like a conference table that would make this conversation seem more formal and less… intimate—so I stayed on the other side.

"Look," I began, trying to keep my voice calm and measured, "I know you said you hadn't changed your mind, but—"

"I haven't." He jumped in quickly, cheeks staining dark blue. "Really, dude. I haven't."

"Alright," I said steadily, my pulse starting to speed up. "Well, we should still talk about what this will… entail."

His Adam's apple jumped. "Okay."

"I'd like you to tell me exactly what you… want."

"I did." His throat bobbed again. "I want to… get it all out of the way. So I'm not so nervous when I…"

Never before had I felt such a unique blend of heartache and affection. He wanted to rid himself of his nerves so he was confident when he inevitably fucked some of the wrestlers.

I let out a slow breath. Alright. Well, I'd agreed to it. He'd been upfront about that, and I'd still agreed to it.

"You have to be more specific than ‘it,' Larkin." I managed to make my tone dry and faintly amused. "What's the ‘it' you want to get out of the way?"

His cheeks darkened. "You know… sex. All of it."

When I stayed silent, he huffed and dragged a fingertip along the edge of the island counter. "I just want to learn how to do stuff. Do it well, I mean. You know, like… handjobs and… b-blowjobs."

My cock twitched, firming up rapidly. Thank fuck the island was hiding my lower half. "I know it can seem daunting, but a lot of that stuff comes pretty naturally when you get into it."

What was I doing? Trying to talk him out of this? That would be the decent thing to do. The right thing to do. But I still silently scolded myself for being a noble idiot.

"I just don't want to make a fool of myself," Larkin mumbled. A strand of bright pink hair had slipped from his bun and was brushing against his sharp cheekbone. My fingers twitched with the intense desire to reach over and tuck it behind his pointed ear.

"I don't think you would," I said gently, "but alright."

"I just want to be good at it," he blurted, gazing up at me. Then he squirmed, rubbing at his hot cheek. "I've kind of… talked a big game with the wrestlers. They probably all think I'm, like, super experienced or whatever."

I hummed noncommittally. He wasn't wrong. To anyone not paying as close attention as I did, he definitely gave the impression that he was up for anything and not afraid to experience new things. But that was Larkin. Smoke and mirrors. All talk and no action.

Well, he was finally deciding to take action now.

Letting out a big sigh, he rested his cheek on his palm. "I've definitely made a rod for my own butt, dude."

I went still, blinking at him. "Do you mean your back?"

"Huh?"

My mouth twitched. "You've made a rod for your own back."

His brows twitched into a disbelieving frown as he raised his head. "Um, I think the saying is butt, dude. A rod for my back? What? That doesn't make sense."

"But you think a rod for your butt does?"

"I mean, yeah." He spread his hands. "Like, I've made a problem for myself that's causing me discomfort or whatever. A rod up my butt."

Well. I supposed I couldn't fault his logic. A rod up the butt would definitely be more of an uncomfortable problem than one on the back.

Before I could stop it, a grin stretched my mouth as I chuckled. I heard Larkin's breath catch, but then he grinned back at me, his cute little fangs peeking out.

"You know it makes sense, dude," he said, and I shook my head with another chuckle.

"You're right." God, I wanted to kiss him so, so badly. But maybe he wouldn't want that. This was why we needed to discuss it properly and find out what was off-limits.

"Look," I began again, sobering, "I know it's awkward to talk about, but if you want to actually do these things, you're going to have to push past that."

He swallowed, nodding quickly. "Okay. Yeah."

"Is there anything that's off-limits?" I asked, watching him carefully. "Anything you're definitely not interested in?"

His throat bobbed again, wings splayed wide behind his back. "Uh, n-no. I can't think of anything. I want to, um, try everything."

God. My cock was throbbing.

"Well." I cleared my throat. "There might be something you realise you're not interested in while we're… So you should come up with a word you'd never normally say during sex that means you want everything to stop."

"Like a safeword?" he asked, eyes growing bright with nervous excitement.

"Yes."

"Okay." He chewed his lip, then said, "Dahlia."

"Alright." I nodded. "If you say that at any point, it means we stop straight away."

He visibly relaxed at that, then asked, "What about you? Do you need one?"

I was surprised he'd thought to ask, seeing as I was undoubtedly going to be in charge of our interactions, but he was right. Just because someone was taking on a more dominant role didn't meant they didn't also have their limits or couldn't change their mind about wanting something.

"Mine can be garlic." I gave him a tiny smile. "Stuff like checking that is what makes you a good sexual partner, Larkin. Not how well you can suck a dick."

His breath hitched, gaze darting down to my crotch, hidden by the island. "Y-yeah, well, I want to be amazing at both."

Fuck. I wasn't going to survive this. He was determined to become an amazing cocksucker, and he was going to be using my cock to learn.

"So you"—I gulped—"just want practice."

"Yes," he said hoarsely, but sat up straight to convey his sincerity.

"With everything."

"Uh-huh." He was gazing at me with those big, guileless eyes.

Unbidden, my gaze flickered down to his mouth. "Have you kissed anyone before?"

He reared back in offence, scowling at me. "Um, yes, dude. Loads of times. Like, so many people—"

"Larkin." I injected a hint of sternness into my voice, because he was posturing again. Overcompensating.

He flushed, squirming and looking away before meekly admitting, "Okay, I've kissed three people. A girl in middle school, another girl in my senior year, and my buddy Hans a couple years ago when we wanted to impress some girls in a club."

I exhaled slowly. That sounded about right. "So do you need practice with that too?"

I wasn't sure what I wanted the answer to be. Kissing him would be… maybe too much. Too intimate. It would make me want the things I couldn't have even more than I already did.

Larkin made a face. "I don't think so? I mean, my buddy Hans is completely straight, but he told me I was a great kisser. He was, like, super impressed, actually."

"Okay," I said in a slightly strangled voice that he thankfully didn't seem to notice. "So kissing isn't needed. For practice."

Larkin stared at me. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to protest, but eventually he just nodded, casting my mouth a quick glance.

"It's just everything else," he said, giving me an uncharacteristically shy smile that almost had me vaulting over the kitchen island to crush him to my chest.

This was definitely going to hurt. A whole fucking lot.

"When did you want to start?" I heard myself ask.