Chapter 5

FIVE

Jonas

Peter's cock pounded into me, again and again, ruthlessly drilling me until I was a mess on the bed, shouting incoherently into the pillows.

His hands gripped my hips tight enough to leave bruises, pulling me back to meet each thrust and goddamn , it was doing it for me. I could do nothing but let him have his way as my entire body became overwhelmed with pleasure, each punishing thrust nearly sending me up the wall.

I could feel the come slipping out of my cock, like an orgasm was starting, but not able to stop, instead forced to go on every time he pushed deep into me. And I didn't want it to stop. It was so good. Too good. I almost couldn't take it.

Above me, Peter let out a growl, unloading inside me, finally stilling, his balls clenching against mine as the last few tremors of come were milked from my sac and his seed flooded my insides.

Peter stayed there for a minute, just breathing, and his hands, now soft, stroked over my skin, soothing the spots he'd been clutching so tightly.

I groaned, still too weak to move as it all slowly ended and real life came floating back.

Finally, he pulled out, releasing me.

I promptly fell forward, completely flat. I couldn't move if I tried.

"Shit," Peter muttered softly, and then the bed dipped as he sat next to me and carefully helped me roll over.

My cheeks heated. I couldn't bring myself to look at him because I hadn't expected to like that as much as I had. I hadn't expected him to blow my fucking world so hard I could barely function.

"Hang on," he said and got up, leaving my room with the door wide open.

What was he doing?

I struggled to sit up, but he was back before I could.

"No, stay down. I've got you."

I blinked, collapsing again as I realized he'd returned with a damp towel.

I couldn't exactly process what he was doing as he started carefully cleaning the come from between my thighs. He was doing it so gently that my brain didn't even want to try to make sense of him.

He wiped my cock so tenderly you would think it was breakable.

And then he bent his head down over my hips and kissed the softened flesh so gently my entire chest suddenly ached.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

He shrugged, not looking at me.

"Just cleaning us up."

I bit my lip because he wasn't cleaning himself up at all. He was entirely focused on me and his big, beautiful cock was hanging there, soft, and still shiny with lube and come.

When he finally looked at me, he smiled gently.

Before I could ask what was up, he set down the dirty rag and used his thumbs to brush the tears from my face.

I hadn’t even realized they were drying on my cheeks or that they’d fallen sometime in the middle of what we’d done.

I stared, unable to look away. There was something in his gaze that made all the air in the room disappear, and I realized what it was when he bent and kissed me.

His lips were as demanding of me as the rest of him. When our bodies touched, nothing else was allowed to get any attention and everything else was pushed from my mind. His kiss was no different. Soft, yet sure. Sexy but not overbearing. He was just fucking right. In every way.

My arms could apparently move again, because they lifted, wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper. He spread out next to me, his tongue delving into my mouth, his soft sighs and moans sending sparks through my body.

I pulled back suddenly when it became too intense.

"I can't go again," I said defensively, like he was trying to put it in or something when he'd only been kissing me. "I need a break."

He didn't rise to the bait, instead just settling in next to me with his head on the pillow.

I wanted to tell him not to get comfortable, or to get out, but my heart was in my throat, and I couldn't talk for a minute.

I felt like I’d been hypnotized or something.

This was still Peter, even if he was incredible in bed.

Homophobic Peter … that didn’t sound right at all anymore.

“So, you're bi?” I asked. “Or gay?”

“What?” He blinked at me. “No. I don't know.”

I glanced at him, unimpressed.

"What do you mean you don't know ? You just fucked me. Rather enthusiastically, too."

He blushed and glared.

"This is all new to me, okay? It doesn't necessarily mean anything. It might just pass. It might just be you, y'know?"

I blinked, processing that statement.

I had to bite my lip to keep anything I was about to say inside for a minute so I wouldn't offend him or dig myself a hole.

"To start, I'm the first guy you've been into?" I asked, incredulously. "I'mflattered . "

He snorted and elbowed me softly.

"Don't make fun of me," he said, pouting.

"I'm not. But, just so you know, that isn't how it works. You may want to wrap your head around being bi sooner rather than later... or figure out if you're something else."

He frowned, looking confused. And dammit, I did not want to find the look cute.

"Something else?"

"Yeah. Pan, demi–"

He groaned and suddenly rolled on top of me, cutting me off by pressing his lips to mine again.

"Can we just agree that I want your ass? I think you're sexy as fuck, and I like making you come? Over and over, hopefully?" he asked when he pulled back.

I couldn't even remember what we had been talking about.

"Yeah," I whispered. "I can get behind that."

He gazed at me for a moment, then gently shook his head.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he told me.

The fact that he was being so kind, that he would pillow talk so sweetly when I didn’t think I’d ever said a single nice word to him, made my heart clench.

“I know,” I returned, trying to joke, to make light of a moment that felt far too real.

"Good," he returned and kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue tickling the roof of my mouth and massaging mine until my exhausted cock twitched with interest.

"You like kissing?" he whispered against my mouth, and I nodded breathlessly, biting his bottom lip and rolling my tongue against it.

The worst part of masturbating was that there was no one to kiss me through it. And now that I was being teased with such a good mouth and cock, my dildos seemed so sad and lonely by comparison.

How was I ever going to go back to making videos solo? Peter was ruining me…

I pushed him, trying to stop my cock from getting too hard. I was too wrung dry to start again, but he just felt too damn good to resist like this.

“Are you kicking me out again?” he mumbled.

I hadn’t been, but I nodded anyway, because that seemed like the safest idea.

“Yeah. Go.”

He chuckled and pulled away, taking all that glorious warmth and comfort away from me as he rolled out of bed.

He grabbed his clothes off the floor on his way, pausing at the door to turn back and look at me. I could see the appreciation in his eyes.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“You too…”

I laid there for ages, too tired to move, while my mind raced too fast for me to sleep. Finally, I remembered the camera was still running and stood, sighing as I shut everything down.

The darkness helped me to relax, but Peter’s warm, comfortable body had been better.

In the morning, I woke to the sound of him leaving the apartment and felt as though I hadn’t slept at all. My thoughts just carried on from exactly where they had been, as though there hadn’t been an hours-long gap.

I groaned, pulled on a robe, and went to the washroom.

Sitting on the toilet, I realized my ass felt sore and when I looked in the mirror, there were handprints on my hips just like I’d guessed there would be.

I swallowed and dropped my robe back down to cover them because the proof of what we had done, the marks he’d left on my body, made my insides squirm with unexpected nerves or—God help me, butterflies.

Fuck.

I physically shook myself.

Peter was good in bed—okay, amazing in bed—and a fantastic kisser and surprisingly sweet when he chose to be, but that didn’t change… what was it again?

I blinked, trying to remember why I was supposed to hate him.

Truthfully, when I’d heard him saying all those homophobic things to my own brother back then, it had hurt.

It was at a family barbeque, and Charles had invited his best friend. I hadn’t met him yet, but had wanted to. Anyone Charles liked had to be great, right?

But then, he’d arrived and had been friendly if distant for about ten minutes before dragging Charles off to the house.

After a while, I’d followed to see where they had gone and heard it all from the next room.

Charles hadn’t defended me or Professor Gordon, either. He’d just listened to Peter while he ranted and patted his back when he was done.

Neither of them had known I was there, so I took off before they saw me. They were inside for a while longer before rejoining the party. Peter had been nicer after that, but it was too late. I’d already decided he was a closet asshole who didn’t deserve to know me or anyone else in my family.

Unfortunately, the rest of the family loved him.

I usually trusted Charles’ judge of character. Same with my mom and dad. How was it they could all be so wrong this time?

Unless I was the one who was misreading Peter. Maybe he really was as sweet as he’d been last night. Maybe back then he hadn’t accepted who he was yet and had been struggling with it, lashing out and calling people dirty names…

I groaned, reached for the soap, and suddenly realized I had never bought any in all my time living here. Peter kept it stocked.

Pausing, I looked around the washroom.

Peter kept the toilet paper stocked, too. Same with the milk and laundry detergent and basically everything we shared, and he had never mentioned it. When would he? I barely ever spoke to him.

That evening, I was lying down, watching my favourite show before Peter finally came home. Not that I’d been waiting for him.

He walked straight over and collapsed onto the other side of the couch, just missing my feet, as he let out a heavy sigh. He looked tired.

"Long day?" I asked.

"Kinda." he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

Wow, look at us small talking . I wanted to point it out, maybe make a joke about how far we’d come, but I wasn't used to just chatting with him. Not yet. Even though I was starting to think maybe that would be nice. No more hostility, just companionable roommates...

"What are you watching?" he asked, and then groaned. "Oh no. Not this again."

Surprised, I turned my attention back to the TV screen, realizing belatedly that I had been staring at his profile.

"No, I haven't seen this one before," I corrected him. "It's a new episode."

He didn't argue, watching the show instead.

I tried, but his thighs were right against my toes, and I couldn't seem to stop looking at him.

Who knew Charles' bestie had such a big dick and was so good at using it... I bit my lip, cock thickening with blood as my gaze dropped to his hands, then his fingers, remembering how he'd used them on me.

My heart was thudding.

I tried to ignore it, but what the hell for? He was obviously down, right? He liked what I had to offer.

I stretched my feet out, resting them over his lap.

He glanced at me, but I was holding my breath, for some reason expecting him to shove me off. Instead, he just rested his hands over my ankles and turned his attention back to whatever the detective was saying on the TV.

I swallowed and glanced at the screen, wondering what the hell was so interesting. They were showing the crime scene now, detailing the events that had transpired during the murder.

It looked like I would have to try harder to compete with that, so I stretched my foot, rubbing it gently against his groin.

His breath hitched at once, and his gaze snapped to mine.

"Wanna fool around?" I asked outright.

His expression was riddled with confusion.

"But... there's no camera here," he said, glancing around to be sure.

“We can go to my room if you want," I suggested, biting back a smile. “I just kind of got horny and you’re right here.”

He blinked.

“But.... ew , how could you get horny while watching this? They keep showing the crime scene. There’s blood everywhere ? — ”

I groaned and sat up.

"You're so annoying ," I complained, climbing onto his lap to block the TV.“Just shut up and get off with me... Please?”

His hands were already lacing into my hair, and he pulled it firmly, forcing my head back and sending sparks shooting straight into my balls.

“God, you’re such a brat," he whispered. “But I can handle that.”

The second his lips touched my throat, a sigh left me. I hadn't realized that I'd been waiting for this. Was desperate for it even though I was still sore from the last time we'd fucked. I wanted more.

What was happening to me? How was I letting him get to me like this? I didn't remember ever wanting someone so badly. My hands were shaking when I started pulling at his shirt, tugging it off his head as his lips reached my jaw.

I couldn't wait. I'd already waited all day for him to come home... not that I'd been willing to admit that I'd been waiting for him, but I couldn't deny it now.

I pushed his hands away, missing them at once. Standing, I nearly tripped over my feet in an effort to kick my pants off.

I was too desperate to wait for Peter to do the same. He didn't even need to. Climbing back onto his lap, He let out a low groan, his hands sliding over the handprints on my hips, then over my waist. He bent and licked my nipples while I clumsily got his pants undone.

"Oh god," I groaned, wrapping my hand around his cock and pulling it free.

He was thick and hard in my palm, and when I stroked his foreskin forward, pre-come beaded on the slit.

I took a shuddering breath and started to position myself, but his hands tightened, keeping me where I was.

"Lube," he reminded me, his normally light eyes dark with desire when our gazes met.

Without thinking, or breaking eye contact, I bowed my head and spat.My saliva landed on the head of his cock, sliding down the length, and a shiver ran through his body.

He didn't stop me this time.

I sat back on his cock, slowly taking it in. And we couldn't look away from each other; our gazes were fastened as I sank all the way down.

His arms went around me, embracing me, and the way he looked at me and held me was the sweetest thing. Even with his cock buried inside me, it felt wholesome and comforting and loving. My forehead dropped to his and a moment later, our lips met.

Finally, I started moving, fuelled by his hungry mouth, lifting and sinking until we were both moaning, overcome by the sensations.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned.

I had no intention to. Instead, I squeezed his cock harder and sank into his lap, crying out as he filled me completely.

He reached for the cushions, fisting the fabric, grunting with each breath as I rode him closer to the edge.

And then, just as my balls started to tighten, pleasure pooling deep inside me, our front door opened.

We both froze in disbelief.

I was facing the door over Peter’s shoulder, clinging to his naked back, watching in horror as my brother innocently entered the apartment.

He threw his bag aside and was walking inside, undoing his coat before he even looked up and saw us.

For a split second, we stared at each other and then he shouted and blocked his eyes.

“Ah! Oh my god! My eyes!”

“Oh, shit!" Peter cried, looking at him over his shoulder. " Charles . I completely forgot."

"Peter! You're into guys?!"

I had my hands covering my mouth but didn't move because if I jumped off the way I wanted to, he would see everything. At least in this position, we were blocking the most incriminating parts.

"I'm so sorry," Peter was rambling, trying to wiggle out of me as his dick softened at lightning speed, but I clung to him, afraid my brother would see what was left of my erection. I would like to avoid that, please and thank you.

Peter peeked through his fingers, met my wincing smile, and suddenly burst into laughter.

"At least you two are finally getting along," he guffawed.

We both stopped panicking, exchanging a look while Charles laughed so hard that tears were streaming from his eyes.

"Oh, my god. When did this start?" he demanded, then caught himself. "Wait, never mind. I'm going."

"No, it's okay," Peter said. "Just give me a minute."

"It's not what it looks like?" I added, lamely.

“I’m going! You’re terrible at lying, Jonas! Peter, next time don’t invite me over while you’re fucking my brother!”

He waved over his shoulder, not looking back as he shut the door.

We sat there, listening to him laugh all the way down the hall.

The moment the sound of his laughter faded along with the shock over what had just happened, I smacked Peter’s arm.

“You invited my brother over and then thought it was a good idea to fuck on the couch right when he was supposed to get here?” I demanded.

He winced at first and then gave me a look that made my flagging erection start to lift straight back up.

Without warning, he gripped me by the waist and flipped me onto my back on the cushions. Damn, he was so strong. I wasn’t used to being manhandled so easily and my dick agreed, hardening the rest of the way.

He bent forward, pressed his lips to my ear and then bit the lobe.

I jerked.

“I’m not falling for that bitchy exterior anymore,” he informed me.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you were climbing on top of me, pressing that ass against my cock, I wasn’t exactly thinking about your brother. I forgot he even existed.”

“Fair enough.”

He gripped my bare ass, squeezing and then pulling the cheeks apart, stretching my hole for him, giving his cock room to get back to it.

I groaned, my body reacting to him as though nothing had interrupted us.

We fucked until I was too sore to get back to bed, and then Peter picked me up and carried me to his bedroom.

We didn’t sleep a wink.