4. Sebastian

4

SEBASTIAN

"What the fuck?" I whispered into the quiet bathroom.

Lifting my eyes, I stared at myself in the mirror.

My shirt was torn at the bottom and covered in smears of dirt, and my shorts were twisted on my hips, the front seam over my thigh and not where it should fall. More dirt was caked into my skin, and my hair was a dusty mess.

A sting of pain broke through my daze. Why did my side hurt?

Carefully, I lifted my ruined tank top. A dark bruise was forming on my skin just under my ribs.

When had that happened? Was that from rolling onto something hard or from one of the wayward elbows or knees we'd exchanged while wrestling?

Jesus fuck.

What the hell had just happened?

Twenty minutes ago I'd been fighting with the grill and cursing the fact that I needed a second pair of hands to get the job finished. Now I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror after wrestling with Jesse and kissing him.

What in the world had possessed me to antagonize him like that?

I was an asshole, but I wasn't the type to start things. I didn't back down when confronted, and I'd had to fight my way out of a few situations in the past, but nothing like what had just gone down.

I'd been the one to start everything.

And I had no fucking clue why.

Today hadn't been a good day, and I'd been in a bad mood even before I arrived at the cabin.

The fallout from my sister's party hadn't been as bad as I'd thought. For the most part, my parents had gone back to giving me the silent treatment, and Aunt Meredith was out of my hair until the next family event.

That was about the only good thing I had going for me right now.

I'd spent most of the day dealing with a bunch of legal issues that went along with my band breaking up. We hadn't parted on bad terms or anything, but dividing up the band's assets and getting everything settled was proving to be a major hassle.

Then I came to the cabin to open it up for the season and spent over an hour fighting with the damn grill.

I knew it was a two-person job, but I expected Adam to come by with some boxes, so I started it alone.

But Adam didn't show up; Jesse did.

And he showed up later than I expected Adam to arrive, so I'd spent even more time fighting with the grill and working myself up into a frustrated mess.

I would have been fine if it was Adam behind the wheel, but the cabin was my space. It was the one place in the world I could escape to. Where I felt safe and could fully relax.

When Jesse showed up, my frustrations with the grill and my life in general shifted onto him and the fact that he was here, at my cabin, when I wasn't expecting it.

He'd caught me in a volatile mood, and my stupid ass had wanted a fight.

"Fuck." Dropping my shirt, I turned on the water to wash my hands.

Why had I made such a big deal about Jesse getting hard in front of me?

I'd never been that guy to resort to dick-size jokes or making fun of someone's masculinity. I'd had that shit thrown in my face enough over the years. I didn't want to be that guy.

Boners happened, and his ears being a hot spot was a perfectly good explanation for why he popped wood.

I should have let it go. Just pretended like I hadn't seen it and let him leave so I could go back to cursing the grill in peace and be done with him.

But I hadn't.

Not only had I rebuffed his offer to help, I'd needled him about something completely natural and out of his control.

And I had no fucking clue why.

I couldn't deny that arguing with Jesse was fun. It gave me a thrill like nothing else, but what happened between us today was different.

For one, we'd never put hands on each other. We'd threatened to over the years, and a few times a mutual friend or one of our siblings had gotten between us to break things up before they got physical, but neither of us were fighters.

At least, I didn't think he was.

Jesse wasn't the type to lose his shit, ever. Maybe that's why I loved fighting with him so much. It was the one time when his perfect facade cracked and he acted like a normal person with feelings and emotions and not like a damn robot.

I'd always hated that about him, ever since we were kids. He had the irritating ability to pretend like nothing bothered him and things that would make normal people lose their shit were nothing more than minor annoyances. I always looked like a loose cannon around him.

I'd seen him fight before, back in high school. But those hadn't been his fault. He never started fights, but he finished them.

If he wanted to, Jesse could have rearranged my face and not even broken a sweat. We might be close to the same height, but he was bulkier and stronger. I wouldn't have been able to stop him if he'd wanted to hurt me.

But he hadn't. And I hadn't wanted to hurt him. Not physically.

Why had I started things? Why had I lashed out at him instead of just letting him leave?

Maybe it was my bad mood. Or being caught off guard when he inadvertently invaded my haven. But the more we argued and the more he reacted, the more I needed to keep arguing with him.

It started with wanting to trade barbs and insults like we always did, but something about seeing him get hard because I breathed on his ear affected me in ways I wasn't ready to examine.

I felt powerful, and a different type of thrill lit a fire in me that I'd never felt before. Something dark and wild and dangerous. Addictive and all-consuming.

More of the lingering adrenaline from the fight drained out of me, leaving a cold, empty feeling and a sense of bone-deep exhaustion.

Why had I told him I was bi?

Coming out to him hadn't been on my to-do list. I'd kept my sexuality a secret until now because it was easier, not because I was ashamed or I hadn't accepted it or whatever.

Blurting out my truth to Jesse mid-wrestling match had not been how I'd pictured my first coming-out announcement.

Maybe I told him so he wouldn't think I was being a homophobic asshole for taunting him about his boner?

I remembered when Jesse's sexuality had become public knowledge at school and how even his immense popularity hadn't been enough to shield him from the gossip and verbal abuse other out students had to deal with. And it had been even worse for his best friends after they'd been outed.

No one deserved to be treated like that, and I wouldn't wish being outed on my worst enemy.

Fuck.

I told Jesse about my sexuality before anyone else. Not even my sister knew.

Grimacing, I rinsed off my hands. I needed to tell her. I knew she'd be fine with it, but discussing my sex life with my little sister was weird. I knew that was a me problem, but I'd practically raised her while our parents ignored us. It was hard to think of her as an adult, even though she was far more mature than I'd ever be.

When my hands were clean, I turned off the water and then stripped off my shirt to see the extent of the damage.

I had the bruise on my side, another on my opposite hip, and a long scrape under my left shoulder.

Rather than clean it out, I turned on the shower, cranking the hot water to get the tank fired up after being off for months.

Did I care that Jesse knew I was bi?

Not really. I didn't like that I'd blurted it out like that, and it wasn't like I could have hidden the truth after kissing him.

That was the part of the encounter that was fucking with me the most.

The arguing and being a jackass to him could be chalked up to my bad mood and lashing out at the first person who pissed me off. Wrestling was a new phenomenon, but considering our past, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that we'd have ended up in a physical altercation at some point.

The boners could be explained away because we'd been rubbing up on each other, but there was no explaining the kiss.

Or why I'd liked it so much.

"Ugh," I groaned and shoved my shorts over my hips.

Grappling with Jesse had been hot, and not just because of the accidental frotting.

The sounds he'd made turned me on. The soft grunts and muffled cries reminded me of sex noises. Was that how he sounded when he was getting fucked?

Was he the type to keep quiet and stifle his cries? Was he even into bottoming?

I knew better than try to guess someone's preferences based on their looks, but everything about Jesse screamed "top," and the thought of fucking him, of being the one to coax those pleasure sounds out of him, had sent my mind into a tailspin.

All I could focus on was his hard body against mine, his hot breath on my face and neck. How he struggled to break free of my grip, and how he didn't hold back.

That fight, or whatever it was, hadn't been about inflicting pain on each other.

It had been about domination.

About getting the upper hand and not just being in control, but being in charge.

I wanted him to submit to me. To give up and admit that I won.

But my desires didn't end there.

I wanted to own him, not just beat him.

I wanted to kiss him, to frot against him and swallow his whimpers. To bring him right to the edge of pleasure, then back off and watch him fall back to earth and beg me to fuck him.

I wanted to take him right there on the dirty forest floor. Just flip him over and bury myself in him until he forgot where he ended and I began.

Thank fuck he'd come to his senses and broken the kiss when he had. Before it had gone too far, or we'd done something we couldn't take back.

A kiss didn't mean anything, and it didn't change anything.

We'd just gotten swept up in the moment. Between the adrenaline from the fight and the emotional fallout of my impromptu confession, I hadn't been thinking straight.

Snickering at my choice of words, I stuck my hand under the spray to test it. Still a bit cold, but that wasn't a bad thing right now.

Shucking off my boxer briefs, I stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed.

My only saving grace was that Jesse had kissed me back. I might have started it, but he'd been just as into it. He couldn't hold that against me without sharing some of the guilt.

Barely seeing what I was doing, I scooped up the tiny bottle of body wash I'd stolen from some hotel and uncapped it. One bonus of spending the last six years on the road was that I had enough toiletries to last through the apocalypse.

I didn't have a ton of experience with men, especially compared to my experience with women, but I wasn't a monk. I'd been with enough guys over the years to know what I liked, and that didn't look anything like what had gone down between Jesse and me.

I wasn't the type who liked drama. My ex-bassist was, and he and his on-again, off-again girlfriend had spent the last five years having very public fights and breakups, only to get back together after a few rounds of angry make-up sex. They'd be chill for a bit, then the cycle would start over again.

Dealing with that as an outsider had been exhausting enough. There was no way in hell I'd ever choose to live like that.

I liked my hookups and situationships simple and predictable. I hated drama, despised fighting, and had no patience for head games. Relationships were a lot of work for very little return, and sex was fun, but not worth having to deal with anyone's crap to get it.

With a sigh, I tipped my head back to wet my hair and rinse off the last of the body wash. The warm water soothed my muscles and skin as it sluiced over me, but it did nothing to calm the mess in my head.

I kissed the guy I'd hated since we were eight, and I not only liked it, I loved it. I felt things I never had, wanted things that had never been on my radar.

The hunger, the intensity of my desire, had been exhilarating. Knowing I wasn't the only one feeling it ignited something inside me I hadn't even known was there.

Did I have a fighting kink? Was I into being manhandled, or had that only turned me on because it was Jesse manhandling me?

My cock stirred as blood rushed south.

Fucking hell. I was getting hard again.

Closing my eyes, I dunked my whole head under the water and held my breath as the water streamed down my face.

Kissing Jesse had been a mistake. I couldn't take it back, but I could make sure it never happened again.

At least I wouldn't have to see him for a while. Not until the next time our siblings harangued us into doing favors for them.