Chapter 2

TWO

Peter

I woke up in my bed, sandwiched between Celeste and Brady. Pretty much everyone had crashed here last night after drinking too much and staying awake way too long.

I shoved at Brady, and when that didn't work to wake him up, I climbed over him to get out of bed.

In the living room, I stared at the battle scene.

It may as well have been a bomb site. There were bodies and debris everywhere.

Stepping over everyone, I made it to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some extra strength Advil .

Only after I'd swallowed down both did I pause, my heart sinking as I realized I hadn't seen Angie out there.

I shouldn't care, but it was hard to argue with the sudden disappointment and hurt that hit me at the idea that she was probably in Jonas' room.

And not because I wanted Angie.

Fuck .

I sank into a chair at the kitchen table, letting the realization that I wanted Jonas to sink in finally. Dammit, I'd been avoiding facing that little fact since he'd moved in here.

I'd pretended I didn't look at him that way, like I didn't enjoy what I saw.

I groaned, letting my already aching head fall into my hands. Was it just him? Was it because he was a little bit feminine or something? He did have really pretty eyes framed with those long, dark lashes.

It had to be a temporary thing. A phase.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the aching in my skull. I would just ignore it until it went away. This little crush or whatever it was would fade once I remembered what a dick Jonas was.

But seriously, Angie?

Why Angie?

I didn't even think he liked her last night. How did they end up in bed together?

... and why was I getting to my feet and walking to Jonas' room?

I hesitated at the door, wondering what the hell looking would accomplish. But my brain just couldn't wrap around the idea of them being in bed together.

Lifting my fist, I knocked softly and waited. When there was no answer, I reached for the doorknob and opened it just enough to peer inside.

For a moment, my heart stopped, because there was someone in bed with Jonas, but I couldn't see who. I could only see the mop of Jonas' wavy brown hair and one of his ears from under the cover. Then, before I could slam the door shut and go hide somewhere, the other body rolled over, exposing Charles.

Oh.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked straight at me.

“Hey,” he said groggily. “What's up?”

I blinked, trying to think of something.

“I was looking for Angie,” I whispered. “She's not out there.”

“Yeah, she went home when Jonas told her he wouldn't fuck her.” He started laughing. “It was actually so funny.”

I had no right to feel so relieved.

Just then, Jonas moaned and rolled over, lifting his head to see who Charles was talking to.

I'd never seen him half asleep and tousled, and dammit, my heart was doing something uncalled for.

“Sorry to disturb you,” I muttered and pulled the door shut, but just before it sealed, my gaze flew around his room and there, on his desk, my eyes snagged on a camera sitting just out of sight behind the monitor.

I shut the door, my heart racing.

It couldn't be...

Everyone filed out sometime in the afternoon. Charles stuck around the longest to help tidy up, but hung over and grumbling he hadn't been very useful, so I told him to go home.

It was another couple of hours before Jonas finally emerged.

He was a little bit more put together, but barely. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale.

I watched him head straight into the kitchen and listened while he sorted through the medicine cabinet.

He'd left his door open, and I couldn't help peeking in. The camera was still there. I hadn't hallucinated it... Of course, that didn't mean that he was in his bedroom making sex tapes all the time, but a weird feeling came over me when I thought about it. I didn't know what the hell he was up to in there.

What did he even do?

It wasn't like he was in school anymore. I never heard him gaming or anything.

He came out of the kitchen, cradling a cup of instant coffee and a bagel.

I watched, flabbergasted, as he beelined for his bedroom again.

“Hey, hang on!”

He paused, finally acknowledging me.

“What?” he asked.

I stared for a minute, honestly taken aback.

“Think you might want to help me clean this shithole up?” I asked, gesturing to the mess. “You live here too.”

He pursed his lips.

“I didn't invite your friends over,” he said. “And I took care of washing my own glass, so...”

With that, he turned and shut himself in his room.

I stared at the closed door for far too long, dumbfounded.

What a spoiled brat! How the hell could anyone be such a dick?

I got more and more angry as I cleaned the place until it was practically sparkling. I muttered under my breath while I took the garbage down to the bins downstairs and I was still fuming while I made myself an oven-ready pizza for dinner.

Jonas emerged again then; he heated up some leftovers and went to the sparkling clean living room to watch TV and enjoy my hard work.

I was fucking furious.

I marched into the living room with my pizza and accidentally sat down far too close to him—because I wanted to annoy him, but he didn't seem to mind, silently eating his food while he watched his show. Something about an unsolved murder that completely turned my stomach.

Feeling deflated, I pushed half of my pizza away and sat there, stomach-churning, wondering for the millionth time what his problem with me was.

I glanced over at him. He had a little freckle on his cheekbone. I'd never noticed that before.

“Why do you always stare at me?”

The question, said just under his breath, made me freeze. Fuck, I'd been caught. And it obviously wasn't the first time.

He glanced over at me and when our eyes met, his gaze was filled with hot anger.

“You're always fucking staring .”

I swallowed because what the hell was I supposed to say? That he was surprisingly cute and the only man that I had ever seen that way? As a prospect.

“Just wondering what your problem is with me?” I finally managed and my annoyance with him came back tenfold. “Seriously, what the hell is it? Did I do something?”

His gaze hardened.

“You're abrasive,” he said coldly. “And loud. And what difference does it make?”

“Abrasive?” I demanded. “ I'm abrasive? At least I try to be nice.”

“Well, don't bother,” he snapped. “I'm not going to like you.”

I didn't know what to say.

“Why did you even move in with me?” I finally asked.

“ Just to do my brother a favour,” he said firmly.

I swallowed, stood up, and went to my room without a word.

For a long time, I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the show Jonas was watching in the other room, then eventually, to the sound of him turning it off and going to his room.

With the apartment so quiet, I could hear him fiddling around with something and then getting into bed.

I felt numb over what he'd said. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel, but people didn't normally tell you to your face when they didn't like you. And I couldn't help but feel like there was more to it. Like it was personal.

The way he'd glared at me had felt so intentional, like I'd done something to offend him, but... what ? I couldn't think of a single thing.

I shut my eyes, trying to drown out the thoughts, but then something else drew all my attention.

It was quiet at first, a slow shifting sound, over and over, then a bed squeaking.

I lay there, unable to move, my heart racing as I listened to the sounds from Jonas’ room. It went on until my cock was hard, my chest rising and falling fast, my mouth dry.

A soft moan nearly took me out, and I finally shoved my hand into my pants, unable to stop myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind racing with images of what he had been doing on the other side of that wall.

I bit down hard on my cheek to stop from making a noise as I came into my pumping fist, my entire body shaking with the release.

Afterwards, I wondered if he'd set his camera up for it.

Over the next few days, there was a tension between us. For once, my mood was as dark as his was, and the apartment was silent.

And for the first time, he seemed bothered and tense.

I was glad.

Jonas deserved to be driven up the walls the way he was doing to me, because now that the apartment was so quiet, I could hear him. Daily . He was constantly moving around in there, gasping sometimes, or moaning quietly because he didn't want me to hear.

He had to be doing it for money. There was no way it was for anything else unless he was a sex addict or something, and if that was the case, he wouldn't have turned Angie down, right?

I spent Friday night on Google , trying to search for him. Checking different websites for cute guy masturbating, slim brunet with brown eyes, jerking off, alone, horny, etc .

All that accomplished was an evening wasted jerking off to other cute boys touching their cocks and assholes and yeah , it turned out it wasn't just Jonas—or maybe it was since I couldn’t stop pretending each one was him. I was a fucking mess.

Realizing just how much guys like him in general got to me, led me down a rabbit hole. I was desperate to touch them while I stroked myself in my office chair. It felt like I was doing something wrong. I wasn't supposed to be wanting to fuck guys suddenly like this, but I did , and I must have always ignored that fact because I liked girls, too. And Jonas was right fucking there, jerking off in front of a camera in the next room. I just knew he was, but I couldn't find him online for proof.

His vids were probably behind a paywall, and I'd never see them. Not that I wanted them to jerk off to, but mostly because I was dying to know what exactly he was doing. Sometimes I could hear a bit of a commotion, like he was walking around, or exercising, but I knew he had a gym membership he used religiously, so I doubted it was that.

I felt like I was going crazy. Like I knew a secret but had no proof of it and worst of all, Jonas avoided me like the plague, and if we were in a room together, he wouldn't even look at me.

The next morning, after another sleepless night obsessing over it, I couldn't take it anymore.

I locked myself in my room all morning to avoid Jonas, then went to the library and studied for the better part of the day. I wanted to go home to rest though, because I was literally exhausted, but I knew I wouldn't get much rest while Jonas was there, anyway. I didn't think I'd sleep easy again until I had my own space.

Sighing, I knew that was the only solution. We couldn't keep living together. It was a total disaster.

Decision made, I packed my stuff and went home to face the music.

But when I walked into our quiet apartment and saw that Jonas' door was sealed shut, I just knew that he was up to it again.

Irrational as it was, fury ran through me. He couldn't just stay in his room avoiding me forever, masturbating or maybe even camming, and just fucking driving me crazy!

I marched to his bedroom door and banged on it.

"We have to talk," I said loudly.

There was a bang, like something fell to the floor, then scrambling on the bed.

"Fuck off!" Jonas shouted breathlessly in response.

Frustrated, I reached for the doorknob. I knew I shouldn’t, but I was at the edge of my patience, and I wanted, no needed, to end this.

"I'm coming in!"

I turned the handle and by the time the door was opening, Jonas was at it, topless, nothing but boxers on, his face flushed red, panting...

I lost all sight of whatever the hell I had been about to say. Was it that he couldn't live here anymore, or that I couldn't?

"What the fuck do you want?" he demanded, looking furious and… embarrassed .

I looked down and saw the way his underwear was tented and couldn't breathe.

He tried to hide himself behind the door, then tried to slam it closed, but my foot was in the way and I just— pushed it open the rest of the way .

The camera I'd seen before was set up on a stand, pointing straight at the bed, which was lit up by a ring light.

It was neatly made, but there was a bottle of lube on top of the covers. There weredildos on the top and a big, flesh-coloured one on the floor. I realized that had been the source of the bang.

I stepped into the room like I was possessed, unable to look away.

The camera was still running.

It was hooked up to the computer on his desk with a long wire and there, on Jonas' screen, his bed was visible so he could watch what he was recording.

"Is this what you do for money?" I found myself asking, and I didn't know how the hell my voice was so steady when my heart was racing the way it was.

Dildos. I hadn't looked up guys using them... maybe that was why I hadn't found him. Didn't that mean he liked guys? Or dick, at least. I was right next door. He could have asked me...

“Where do you put the videos?” I asked.

“…Red Light Boys…”

I swallowed. Yup. Behind a paywall. That website was notorious. I’d seen the ads before. I was pretty sure they offered more than just porn, but all this sudden interest in boys was new to me. I’d never been on the site.

"Are you going to tell my brother?" Jonas asked from behind me, drawing my attention back to him. He sounded like a child who'd just been caught doing something bad, and I supposed this was the adult equivalent of that.

Instead of answering, I bent and picked the large dildo up off the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jonas choked.

I wasn't really sure myself, except that the rubbery flesh of the thing was wet with lube and my cock was now rock hard.

Finally, I looked back at Jonas. He was shifting from foot to foot nervously, the bulge in his pants considerably smaller. I'd never seen him so embarrassed—nearly on the verge of tears, but there was no need for that. I wasn't judging him. I just... didn't want to leave. Even though I should. Even though he surely wanted me to.

And if he told me straight up to go, I would, but I couldn't just walk away now, not when I was standing here in the middle of it, the plasticky scent of cherry lube filling the air.

"Get back on the bed."

My words didn't come out as strong as before, barely above a whisper, but Jonas' eyes widened dramatically.

He stared at me, unmoving but for the way his hands were shaking at his sides. Then, instead of telling me to leave, he walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he crawled onto the bed on his knees.

Once he was in front of me, he stopped, our heights level, his bare chest heaving under the light, pale, unblemished skin over lean muscles. So beautiful. Just like his face, his hair, everything.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked, voice trembling and he was getting hard again. He wanted me to do this, I realized. That thought pushed any lingering hesitation out of my body.

"Helping you out," I said. "Turn around."

He visibly shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin, and then he did what I told him to do, turning his back to me.

Now I was shaking too, but I reached out, touching the beauty mark on his nape that often drew my gaze before pushing him down.

He went easily, bracing his elbows on the bed so his ass was in the air, facing me. There was a wet spot from the lube soaking the blue fabric.

I traced my fingers over his back, feeling all the goosebumps until I reached his boxers. Instead of pulling them down, I touched the wet spot first, and pressed against it, unable to believe this was happening.

Jonas took a sharp breath, his hips pushing back against my fingers for a second.

I swallowed.

Fuck. He really did like his ass getting touched. Maybe it was the anticipation, the craziness of what we were doing, but I wasn't going to question it.

When I glanced over at the computer, my hand was there, touching Jonas' ass through his underpants, feeling the warmth and the wetness and he was there, shifting a bit, the sound of his breathing filling the air while I held my breath.

Then he lowered himself even more, turning his face away from me on the mattress to reach back with both hands.

I watched with bated breath as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and slid his boxers down, exposing his smooth ass and wet hole. He left the boxers around his thighs, only giving me access to what he wanted me to play with.

I couldn't even move for a minute because it was so fucking pretty.

Letting out a low breath, I rested the dildo I was holding against his ass cheek.

"Is this the one you were using?" I asked.

He nodded, glancing at me over his shoulder. Our eyes met and the look he gave me was different than he'd ever looked at me. He was hot as hell when he was turned on and nervous. For some reason, that one look made me want to not disappoint him. I wanted him to like what I did to him. To make him feel better than anyone had ever made him feel. It would serve him right. The guy he treated like shit for no reason would be the only one who could make him come like there was no tomorrow.

I traced the thick, floppy dildo over his hole, watching mesmerized as it started to flex, opening for more, wanting to take it in. Finally, I pressed the tip into him.

We both moaned. The view was too good, watching his hole stretched tightly around it, wet and welcoming.

"Fuck," I muttered, and unable to help myself, I bent over him, licking the ring that was stretched tightly around the rubber.

"Oh, God ," Jonas groaned, bucking back toward my mouth, taking another inch of rubber into him while he did.

"Want more?" I asked, voice gruff.

He moaned, bucking back again in answer, and I pressed the dildo in deeper, not stopping until he was trying to run away from it. I held it where it was, taking note that he couldn't take the whole thing. Made sense. It was longer than any dick could be. I drew it out slowly, replacing it with my tongue, and he started pressing back for more, moaning and burying his face in the blankets while I gave him what he wanted.

Jonas had definitely put me under some sort of spell. I had never wanted to push my tongue into someone's asshole before. I'd gone around the area in the past, but here I found myself licking him as deeply as I could, tasting cherry oil and only pulling back to get the dildo back in, this time sliding it in and out while he writhed.

His entire body was practically shaking, hips bucking back, cries muffled in the blanket as he tried to hold them in.

I couldn't take it anymore, and pulled my cock out, pressing it to his lubed ass cheek as I fucked him with the dildo.

I was breathing hard, barely able to hold it together, but more desperate tomake himcome than I was for my own release.

He lifted his head, gasping for air, a string of instructions suddenly bursting desperately from his lips.

"Yes, like that. Fuck. Don't stop. Keep going. Yes ."

Encouraged, I pumped into him at just the right angle, ignoring the way my biceps started to burn from keeping up the rhythm he wanted until he let out a strangled yell, pushing back, taking it in a bit deeper as he came.

Coming hands-free had to be a rare thing, but I watched the come spilling down his thigh, his cock still hidden in the loose fabric of his boxers. While he was still moaning his release, I pulled the dildo out.

He gasped, but I was too close to the edge to do anything but press my leaking tip to his gaping entrance and jerk off, hard and fast until my come was splashing all over his hole, some of it inside, a lot of it outside, covering him. As I tried to breathe through it, I rubbed my cock against the wet mess, tempted to push into him and fill him up properly with the last few drops of my seed, but reality was swiftly returning.

I was standing in Jonas' room, doing all of this on camera. And we didn't even like each other.

And I was supposed to be telling him to get the fuck out of this apartment, not coming all over him.

I stepped back, still breathing hard, and Jonas collapsed forward on the bed, his ass still exposed as he rolled onto his side, facing away from me.

He didn't want to look at me.

Great.

If things were awkward before...

"Um."

I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to me.

"You can go now," Jonas finally said, filling the silence and I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, practically running to my room.