6. Weston

CHAPTER 6

Weston wasn't good at making friends. He'd never spent much time in school or at a job, and when he started making friends, he got in his head about whether they were hanging out with him because they liked him or because they pitied him.

He never doubted himself around Quinn. Being around him was zero work, and they fell into such an amicable rhythm. On the way back from the falls, they grabbed pizza, and Quinn carried it into the apartment and set it on the counter before finding plates like he was already familiar with Weston's space. He didn't feel like an intruder. He felt a bit like he was assimilating.

Every once in a while Quinn's smile dropped, and Weston remembered that he was still struggling. He'd crack a joke, and Quinn would brighten back up. And every time the smile came back on his face, Weston wanted to kiss him.

The only kissing they had done so far was the first night make-out, when Quinn treated him like gold and kissed him sweetly and firmly. He was getting signals from Quinn that he returned the attraction and interest Weston was feeling, but nothing more had happened.

Maybe Quinn was being a gentleman and waiting for Weston to make a move.

That was the difference between dating different genders. In a situation with two men, there wasn't a clear-cut social distinction of whose "responsibility" it was to make the moves.

"Do you want to watch a movie in bed while we eat?" He was trying to be coy, but Quinn saw right through him. He gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, the way he had on stream a couple times.

"Yeah," he whispered, like their conversation just became private.

They brought their pizza boxes and sodas to the bed, and Quinn got in first, sliding over towards the wall. Weston turned the TV around to face them and climbed in after. Quinn was careful about moving his stuffed bat so they didn't get crumbs on it. He hadn't made a single negative comment about it. Past hookups had made it clear they thought it made Weston a baby.

Weston started looking through movies. They picked a comedy and settled against the pillows, then flipped open the lids to their pizzas. They'd gotten two, and Quinn had opted for his to be gluten-free too, in case they wanted to share. Weston wondered if he knew that would come in handy if they wanted to kiss, too.

There were millions—billions—of people in the world who could kiss a cute boy without having to worry about being glutened.

Good for them.

They traded slices as they ate, and Weston couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten to do that with someone. His pizza, and his food in general, was his island.

Weston put their empty boxes on the floor so he wouldn't have to get up, and when he went to lie back against the pillows again, Quinn wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

He immediately lost track of what was happening in the movie.

Weston had a full-size bed, so they were close to each other to begin with, but it only took a few minutes to be pressed against each other. Quinn played with the hem of Weston's t-shirt sleeve, and it made him shiver.

Maybe he was just horny, or maybe he and Quinn had a vibe that Weston hadn't experienced before, but his nerve endings were suddenly one hundred times more sensitive than they usually were. Quinn's fingertips grazed the skin of his arm, and Weston shivered again.

"Are you cold?" Quinn whispered, like talking normally would bother someone. Again, it felt like he'd taken a microscope and focused it down on only the two of them.

"A little," he lied. Quinn helped them both slide under the covers, and Weston closed his eyes as he snuggled against Quinn's chest. He never thought about himself as being a physical-touch person, but being held was nice.

Quinn kept trailing his fingertips up and down Weston's back. It was so relaxing.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Weston had fallen asleep. Shit. He was groggy and cuddled closer to Quinn, who kissed him on the forehead.

"Let's get our teeth brushed and PJs on, alright?"

Weston grumbled his way to the bathroom, and when he was done, he and Quinn switched.

While Weston waited for him to be done in the bathroom, he picked up the pizza boxes from the floor and double-checked the lock on the door. He was back in bed by the time Quinn came out.

Quinn paused, looking from Weston to the futon, unsure of where he should be.

"Can you turn the light off? And then come here?"

The enthusiastic nod Quinn gave him settled his nerves. Quinn slid in next to him in the small bed. In a king-size bed, you could make a choice about whether to cuddle, but in a full, you were cuddling.

Quinn got them settled on their sides, pressed together like spoons, and then he reached past Weston to grab his bat.

"You need this guy too?" he asked, his voice the same whisper he'd been using throughout the movie. His intimate just-for-them voice.

"No, I don't... He's not..."

"I'm not threatened by your other man," Quinn joked, and Weston cautiously took his stuffed animal and hugged it. Maybe it made him a baby, but he needed to hug something while he slept or his shoulders would be fucked in the morning, since he folded in on himself. He could hug a pillow instead, but his bat was so fucking soft.

Quinn pinched his bat's little cheek and pressed kisses to the back of Weston's neck.

He'd wanted to kiss this boy again, and he'd fallen asleep instead. Quinn was leaving the next day.

He had the memory of Quinn's lips fresh in his mind, but being wrapped up with him in bed, without Quinn pushing for more—like it seemed everyone he'd ever been with did—was even better.

Quinn was reeling from a divorce still and was on a depression journey at the same time. For some, Weston was sure that would mean jumping into bed with someone. But Quinn seemed more interested in all the weird foods that didn't seem like they would have gluten in them, but absolutely did. When they were at the falls, he even asked what he should do if Weston got glutened.

He'd never had a friend ask that of their own volition. Usually, he had to advocate for himself. Someone caring that he didn't end up in the hospital seemed like it should be a low bar, but unless people could see your health issues, most didn't believe it was a big deal. Like he was faking, or like it was a preference and not something that could make him very sick.

Regardless of what happened between the two of them in bed, this weekend solidified the fact that they should be friends. Real friends. Not just people who inhabited the same spaces on the internet.

Weston had never woken up next to someone else before. Previous hookups had ended before anyone fell asleep, and it was the right choice in the moment. Yes, he was a flirt, but flirting often gave him a bit of distance between him and whoever he was flirting with.

He had Quinn wrapped around him as the sun rose, and when Weston woke up with a yawn and stretched, Quinn pressed in closer.

"Mmmm," Quinn hummed into the back of Weston's neck. "Warm."

Quinn was hard, his erection resting against Weston's ass obviously, but not insistently. It was a physical reality, not a demand.

"I'm going to go brush my teeth and then I want to kiss you," Quinn said, his voice deep and rumbly from sleep.

He escaped to the bathroom, and when he was done, Weston brushed his teeth as well. He would not be the one supplying the bad breath to any kissing they did.

Quinn was back in bed when Weston returned, and he slid a hand down his pants to adjust himself.

"C'mere," Quinn said, holding the comforter up for him to slip back under. The bed was still warm, and while getting up to brush his teeth and pee was inconvenient, it was worth it when Quinn pressed him on his back and kissed him, his mouth minty fresh.

They were both still in the t-shirts and boxers they'd worn to bed. So much of their skin was touching even before Quinn pulled his shirt over his head.

Quinn was gorgeous, all of that smooth skin, his lithe body just asking for Weston to touch him. He trailed his hands up Quinn's chest, to his neck, and pulled him in for another kiss.

Quinn tucked a hand under Weston's hips, pressing their bodies together. They fit against each other deliciously, their small movements already making Weston groan.

"I want to take your shirt off, too. Is that okay?" Quinn asked in his husky morning voice.

"You can take it all off," Weston said, his words coming out of him before he thought them through all the way. What if Quinn just wanted a shirtless make-out? What guy in his late twenties only wanted a shirtless make-out? Usually, Weston was contending with people wanting more than he was comfortable giving.

"Fuck yes," Quinn said, and Weston's nerves vanished. Quinn helped him sit up and pulled his shirt over his head, then worked his boxers off, eyes lasering in on Weston's erection.

"I love being gay," he said mostly to himself, before leaning in to kiss Weston again. "I want my mouth on you right now," Quinn said against his lips. Weston shivered, and his cock throbbed, eager at the idea of Quinn's mouth on him.

He just nodded, and Quinn scrambled between his legs. Before he took Weston into his mouth, he moved Weston's stuffed bat out of the way, facing the wall. "Don't want to traumatize him," he said, making Weston laugh.

And then Quinn's hot mouth was on him.

Weston loved oral more than any other sexual act. It was intimate, it was easy on his body, it felt like pure fucking heaven, and on top of all that, Quinn knew what he was doing.

He went slow, first focusing on making sure Weston's cock was nice and wet before mouthing down his shaft and taking one of his balls in his mouth.

Weston gasped. Fuck, the suction on his sac was incredible, and when Quinn switched sides, it was deliriously good.

Right as his cock was feeling the chill of the room, Quinn wrapped a hand around him, stroking a little, but mostly keeping him out of the way as Quinn continued to focus on his balls. When he finally moved back to Weston's shaft, Quinn took the weight of his sac in one hand and squeezed, not letting go.

He returned to the head of Weston's cock and licked the little bead of precome off the tip, eyes falling shut at the taste. One more thing they had in common. He couldn't wait to lick Quinn's taste off him. Just the thought made his cock throb, and Quinn hummed his appreciation.

"Your mouth, goddamn." He trailed fingertips through Quinn's hair and tugged on it, urging Quinn to take him deeper. He did so with ease, his gaze flicking up to meet Weston's with lust-filled eyes. Quinn liked it. He could take it.

Weston started rolling his hips up to meet Quinn's mouth as his hands played across his own chest. He pinched his nipples as the tip of his cock bumped the opening of Quinn's throat. Quinn moaned, and the vibrations covered every part of his dick. Weston wasn't packing a giant monster in his pants, and it meant most people he was with could usually fit most—if not all—of him in their mouths at some point in a blowjob. Watching Quinn's nose touch his pubes, he was suddenly on the edge.

"I'm close," he gritted out, taking his hand out of Quinn's hair. He loved finishing in someone's mouth, but he didn't expect it, and he would never force it. But even with no one holding him in place, Quinn didn't move. He kept sucking and bobbing, his hand stroking the base of Weston's dick, and when Weston came, he came into the warmth of Quinn's mouth.

He couldn't help the thrust of his hips as he chased as much pleasure as this orgasm would grant him, and Quinn let him pull away when he chose. He swallowed, then stretched up to kiss Weston, his come hot in Quinn's mouth.

They fell back into the comfortable make-out they had started with, this time with Quinn humping his thigh now that he was significantly more aroused. There was still a sleepy morning quality to what they were doing, which automatically made Weston more relaxed than he usually was during hookups. Quinn wasn't urging him on or pressuring him to do anything he didn't want to.

When his taste finally left Quinn's mouth, Weston slid a hand under the waistband of his boxers to grab his smooth, round ass.

"You next," Weston said, watching Quinn's lips part as he soaked in the feeling of Weston's hands on him, relishing in the friction as he thrust against Weston's leg.

"Don't get me wrong, I wanna get in that pretty mouth. But I also don't want to stop kissing you."

God, this boy knew what to say. "Okay. Uh, handy?"

"Please," Quinn whined. It took the effort of both of them to get Quinn's boxers off, and then Weston found his lube.

Quinn was hard and heavy in his hand, thicker than he was, the tip of his cock angry red with how long Quinn had been waiting. Weston slicked him up, and Quinn pressed their lips back together. Quinn was still hovering over him, pressing him against the mattress. Weston worked him with both of his hands, twisting them as Quinn thrust into his grip.

"Fuck, that's incredible," Quinn breathed, tipping his head down to Weston's chest as he continued to thrust. Weston watched Quinn's ass over his shoulder as it contracted with every thrust, until he was whimpering, hips moving wildly, lips finding Weston's nipple to suckle.

Sparks flew to his dick, where it lay limp, spent, and sated. Oh, what it would be like to be multi-orgasmic. His body sure wanted it in the moment. Quinn was so fucking hot, so free, so unselfconscious. His thrusts came faster, his dick hardening even more, and when he spilled, he did so all across Weston's hip and stomach.

As Quinn rode out his orgasm, he kissed Weston again, then collapsed on top of him. "Okay, why did we wait so long to do that?" He snuggled against Weston's chest, and Weston wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Great way to wake up though."

"I can't believe we have to get out of bed."

"We don't have to right now." Weston grabbed some tissues from the side table to wipe Quinn's come off his skin, which wasn't a perfect solution but was better than nothing, and pulled Quinn back onto him. He was heavy like a weighted blanket. They had hours ahead of them before they hopped on stream. They didn't have to get out of bed yet.