2. Chapter Two

two

Chapter Two

Adam

What in God's name had possessed Adam to suggest strip poker of all things? His stomach hurt just thinking about it as he rifled through the hall closet looking for the battered deck of playing cards. The ache intensified when he found the cards. For a while, Adam stared at the deck in his hand, heart pounding in his chest so hard he thought it might burst through his ribs. I mean, he's hot and everything, but he's not into me, and isn't that the whole point of strip poker? To get naked with someone you're into? He's straight, for Pete's sake!

"Hey, little—uh, Adam." Mason slapped a hand on Adam's shoulder blade. Adam's whole body lit up at the touch, and his shoulders tensed.

"Jeez." Adam stepped away quickly.

Mason cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry. Did I scare you? Just wondering what was taking so long."

"I couldn't find the cards." Adam forced his gaze to meet Mason's. He'd barely looked at the guy since Mason had agreed to the game of strip poker, except to check out his ass while Mason had built a fire in the fireplace, which had been totally allowable since Mason had been too busy to notice Adam's staring. And it was a very nice ass, if Adam was being honest.

They each took a seat, Adam on one couch, Mason on the other. Mason dealt first. Adam picked up his cards and immediately put them back down.

"Wait a second. You're still wearing your shoes. How is that fair? Also, we need to lay down ground rules. Are socks one item or two?"

The self-confident grin that slid across Mason's face made Adam wonder if he wanted to punch him or kiss him. "Doesn't matter to me. You're going to lose, anyway."

Bravado surged through Adam. "Fine. Your shoes come off before we start. And I vote that each sock is its own thing."

"Whatever you say, brother." Mason toed off his shoes and tossed them near the door. "Now pick up your damned cards and start playing."

Adam quickly realized he was a terrible liar. Mason called his bluff every time, and before Adam knew it, he was barefoot and shirtless, while Mason was still fully clothed, head to toe. The fire blazing in the fireplace kept him warm enough, but still his nipples drew tight and hard.

Mason licked his lips again as he tossed down two pairs. "Hah. Gotcha again."

Adam glanced at his cards. Three of a kind. He swallowed thickly. Then Adam shrugged and dropped his cards on the table. "Wrong."

Mason frowned, his ginger hair falling in his eyes. His gaze flickered from his own hand of cards to Adam's and back again. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

Pointing at Mason's feet, Adam allowed himself a small smile. "Time to pay up."

Without missing a beat, Mason dropped his hands to the hem of his gray v-neck shirt and yanked hit over his head. It was only a moment before Adam realized what had happened. His groin throbbed as blood rushed to his cock. Mason had clearly been working out, his shoulders broad and muscled, his pecs firm, abs sporting a six-pack easily. Breathing became much more difficult, throat constricting. Adam inhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring.

"How's that for paying up?" Mason stretched his arms wide, then relaxed.

Did he just flex? God, he's showing off, isn't he? Jerk. He must know I've been checking him out this whole time and he's just messing with me, as usual. "Great, thanks. Deal the hand." Mason narrowed his eyes a little, and Adam couldn't tell if it was hurt or curiosity. Adam stared into the fire as Mason dealt.

Adam pulled off three of a kind again, but Mason placed a straight on the table, cackling in delight when he did. It hit Adam all at once that he was going to need to remove his pants, and then the only thing that would stand between him and total nudity would be a thin, gray pair of boxers. And to make matters worse, he was definitely still sporting wood.

In a panic, he stood, jostling the ancient coffee table and knocking the entire deck to the floor. "This is stupid."

Mason laughed again, more quietly, and shifted in his seat. "You're just mad because you're losing."

Adam's gaze drifted down to Mason. Is he …? No, no way his dick is hard. "No, I'm just tired. Let's go to bed."

"Fine." Mason sighed. "But help me pick up the cards."

Adam squatted to the floor and started picking up the deck, and Mason leaned forward to do the same. They stood at the same time, nearly bumping chests they were so close to one another. Mason's chest rose and fell as they stared at each other, Adam having to look up a little to meet Mason's gaze.

Mason leaned forward for a second, dipping down until his face almost met Adam's. Mason licked his lips and exhaled softly. How far is he going to take this? Is he going to kiss me? I thought he was straight. In that instant, Adam felt his face heat in a blush and he took a stumbling step back. His heel connected with the leg of the couch and he stopped before he fell. His heart was a jackhammer and his stomach was in knots.

"Uh, sorry." Mason cleared his throat. "I'm sorry." He blinked and shook his head, then fled to the bedroom.

Adam stood in the living room for a very long time, trying to work out what the hell was going on. My brother's best friend, who is straight and who I've had a crush on since puberty, almost kissed me. Am I living in another dimension? He doused the fire, staring into the embers until they dimmed and cooled. By the time he made it to the bedroom, Mason seemed sound asleep, his breathing soft and even.

Adam crawled up to the top bunk and under the covers. He lay there for what felt like hours, tossing and turning before he drifted off to sleep, still trying to work out what had happened.

Mason

Mason was still awake when Adam opened the bedroom door, moments after their near-kiss. What was I thinking? I almost kissed him! Adam's mouth was all he could think about. The dampness that clung to Adam's full lower lip, the way it tipped down enough to make him look like he was pouting, the soft dip and curve of his upper lip—it was clouding his mind. Mason's nerves were on fire, every bit of him awake and alert. To make matters worse, his cock had never been harder.

Mason forced his breathing to become even and rhythmic in hopes that his heart would stop racing and his dick would relax. Adam climbed into the top bunk of the opposite bed, just as Mason had expected, and sighed as he settled into his blankets. It was a sound Mason had heard a thousand times before, but that night, it just made the blood pound in his groin harder as he imagined Adam's lean, tight body slipping between flannel sheets and burrowing down to stay warm in the still-chilly cabin.

Mason listened to Adam's breathing for a long time, listened to him toss and turn and eventually still. Mason refused to move, afraid that he'd give away the fact that he was awake. Mason drifted off to sleep listening to Adam's every move.

The next morning, Mason woke abruptly, ripped from a racy dream about Adam that he would never admit to having. What is wrong with me? I can't have a thing for Drew's brother. I just can't. His body told another story, though, his cock aching and hard again, more than just morning wood. He lay still for a few moments, listening to see whether Adam was awake. Adam was snoring softly, as he always had, and Mason got out of bed as quietly as possible, padding barefoot through the cold cabin to the bathroom.

Mason turned on the shower and let it run to warm up, then relieved himself while he waited. Mason looked at his dick in his hand and his mind immediately flooded with memories of his dream—Adam on his knees, sucking Mason off, his dark blue eyes focused on Mason's, their gazes locked together as Adam worked Mason to an Earth-shattering orgasm. His dream had ended before the orgasm, though, and his brain was wondering what exactly that would feel like just then, as he palmed his cock.

Stiffening, Mason groaned and arched his back. What the hell? It won't hurt to jerk off before the day starts. It might even make being around him easier. He gripped his erection firmly and started to stroke. "Fuck." Mason hissed a little, the sensations overtaking him quickly. It hadn't been long since he'd gotten off, just a few days, but his cock was so hard and eager that it might as well have been months.

Mason stopped briefly to spit into his palm and return his hand to his length, stroking it harder. The slick glide of saliva wasn't enough—it wasn't like having a bottle of wet lube to work with—but it would do for then. His breathing quickened, and he began to pant as he imagined Adam's groans, his throat stuffed full of Mason's thick cock. He imagined looking down and seeing Adam's mouth stretched wide around the girth, and Mason gripped himself tighter.

He drew closer to the edge, teetering on the verge of orgasm, and he slowed down, wanting to drag out the build up. There was no stopping it, and he had no plans to stop, but he wanted to slow down and relish the sensations. "Oh fuck," he muttered. "Adam, yeah, come on."

Just then, the door opened and Adam burst in.

Mason froze, flicking his gaze to meet Adam's, but Adam's focus was elsewhere and Mason's cock didn't get the memo to stop. It began to surge and pulse cum into the toilet bowl, and Mason groaned as he crested the wave. He couldn't help himself and he couldn't hold it in.

Adam's blue eyes were wide, mouth open, face growing brilliant red. Adam was frozen, too, but his gaze was locked on Mason's dripping cock. The sight of Adam staring at him made Mason's dick pump out a few more drops before it began to flag.

Adam finally met Mason's gaze. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I thought—I thought you were in the shower. I—I just—I just wanted to brush my teeth." Adam spun and slammed the door shut as he retreated.

Mason hadn't had such an intense orgasm in … he couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd felt like that. He shook his head, flushed the toilet, and stepped into the shower. Now what?