15. Damon

CHAPTER 15

DAMON

Every few weeks, Damon met up with Jonah and Spencer. It was a long-standing tradition, but damned if he wanted to be there that night. Ever since Jonah and Spencer had become a couple, it felt weird for Damon to go out for drinks with them. Oftentimes he felt like a third wheel, even though he knew that nothing had changed between the three of them. It wasn't even that they drank and he didn't. It didn't bother him to be around people who still drank. Damon had to admit that maybe he didn't want to go out with them because he'd rather stay in with Nash and Taylor.

Damon knew he was being silly. Jonah and Spencer were still very much the same as they'd always been. Just now with more kissing. Jonah couldn't have found a nicer guy to end up with.

Tonight, when Damon could have used the distraction of a few games of darts, there was some sort of unofficial dart tournament going on and was already underway when Damon arrived. He was on time for once because he didn't have to pry himself off Nash to get there.

Damon slid into the booth opposite to Jonah and Spencer. "Looks like it's just drinks tonight."

Jonah blinked at him and Damon thought he looked like a startled owl. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here."

"You've been late a lot," Jonah said. It wasn't meant to be mean or judgmental, but the honesty of it sliced Damon open.

"Sorry. I've been a bad friend." Running late because he was busy getting tangled in Nash. Ignoring Jonah and Spencer and telling himself it was to give them space in their new relationship, when really it was because Damon was obsessed with Nash.

"You haven't," Spencer and Jonah said at the same time. Damon frowned at them.

"Don't do that again. It gives me the creeps. First you're finishing each other's sentences, and next you'll be wearing matching track suits."

Spencer put an arm around Jonah. "How did you guess our Halloween costume? We're zombie gym teachers with matching track suits."

Jonah poked Spencer in the ribs. "We are not. And you haven't been a bad friend. Just…if there's anything you want to share, you know you can. We won't tell anyone."

"I know." Damon sighed. Part of him wanted to tell Jonah about Nash. It seemed increasingly uncomfortable to keep it a secret. Especially now that the addition of Taylor had upgraded him and Nash to boyfriend status instead of friends with benefits.

But if he told Jonah about Nash, he'd tell him about Taylor, and Damon wasn't ready to face the rest of the Bennett clan about starting something up with the youngest member.

"There's nothing to tell. I've been preoccupied."

"And we haven't?" Jonah motioned to himself and Spencer. "I swear sometimes I forget anyone else exists. If it wasn't for the Sunday brunch and the fire nights, Colby would think I'd gone missing."

"He's protective."

"He's better now with Milo." Jonah gave Damon a knowing look. He was certain that Jonah didn't know all his secrets, but maybe he'd been kind of obvious. Or maybe Jonah was more observant than Damon gave him credit for.

"What can I get you boys tonight?" Yvonne was their usual waitress. She had short, dark hair, tattoos down both arms, and the look of a woman who would take no shit. But she was also really friendly and always seemed happy to see everyone. "The usual?"

The three of them agreed, and Yvonne took Damon's card.

"But it's my turn," Spencer argued and Yvonne shook her head.

"Sorry, nope. It's Damon's turn. Don't argue with me. I have it all up here." She tapped her temple with her index finger. "I'll be back in a minute."

Spencer tucked his card away. "I could have sworn it was my turn."

"Jonah bought last time, and you did the time before that." Damon shifted his gaze over to the dart tournament and let himself look interested in what was going on over there instead of what was going on at Nash's house between him and Taylor.

He poked around his emotions, looking for any sign of jealousy, but thankfully he found none. He wasn't sure how he'd manage it when he did arrive at that particular bend in the road, because it was sure to happen. But, for now, he was happy that Nash and Taylor were into each other. Nash had been right to call him out on his need to be constantly reassured that it was okay for him to date them both. He'd let himself fall down some sort of doubt spiral and he hadn't been able to climb back out.

Now, though, those feelings of unease were gone. Almost gone. He still had the odd moment of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing, but it was increasingly rare now.

Damon dragged his attention back to Jonah and Spencer when the drinks arrived, and they spent the next hour talking and laughing like they used to before any of them started falling in love.

Damon could practically hear his brain lay on the brakes. In love? With Nash? He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. When the fuck had that happened? He looked for the same feeling for Taylor but found intense attraction, and tons of affection, and other soft emotions that Damon knew he could nurture into love. It wouldn't even be hard.

Something about his realization must have shown on his expression because Jonah leaned closer. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Damon waved him off. He was actually fine about his epiphany. He'd probably been in love with Nash for some time now and that's why he'd been so terrified about dating Taylor at first. It was one thing to lose a friend over something, but another thing entirely if you were in love with that friend.

Damon took a sip of his drink and locked gazes with a still concerned Jonah. "I promise. I'm fine."

Jonah nodded.

"You know, Damon, secrets don't stay secret forever," Spencer said, making Damon wonder whether he knew. And how much he knew. But Spencer wasn't the type to be vague or cryptic. If he knew something, he'd wait until Jonah wasn't around to ask him about it.

Damon didn't deny having secrets. He smiled at Spencer and clinked their glasses together. "Cheers," he said.

He was allowed to have his secrets. Even from his best friends. Maybe one day it would all be out in the open and Damon could bring Nash or Taylor to drinks and darts. Or maybe both of them. Or maybe he'd bring neither one and let them use that time to be alone together. One day, though, he'd sit down for drinks and they'd ask him about his men, and Damon would gladly tell them that things were wonderful and he'd have a moment of gratitude that he could share his happiness with his friends.

By the time Damon left the bar, he felt better about a lot of things. And maybe he had been slightly jealous that Nash and Taylor were alone, in the dark, watching movies. But now it made him horny as fuck to think about them together. God, to be a fly on the wall. If he was a shittier person, he'd go over to Nash's, but he knew it was important for them to have their own dynamic. If they were going to be comfortable functioning as a unit, each relationship needed to grow.

His group chat with Nash and Taylor still burned in his memory. Nash wanted permission to kick things up a notch. To let nature and lust and whatever guide them. Damon was all for it. Just the idea of Nash and Taylor together had made it hard to concentrate all night. He'd gleefully given them the go-ahead.

Damon gave himself a silent pat on the back for being so mature about this. He wasn't above stripping naked and climbing into bed. He kicked the covers down to his feet and grabbed the lube off the nightstand. After another moment of consideration, he also grabbed one of his dildos out of the drawer.

It had been ages since Damon had pleasured himself like this. Mainly because, with Nash around, he didn't have to. But there was something to be said for being in charge of his own orgasm. Of taking some time in the dark to explore his body, to tease and torment, and be the one to get himself off.

Damon lay back on the bed and raked a hand down his chest. Sometimes he went right to the good part. Usually that was when he felt pressed for time. But Damon wanted to take his time tonight. It had been ages since he'd done this, and it felt like a way he could reconnect with himself.

Closing his eyes, he let his hands wander, sliding them down his torso. He squeezed his pecs and toyed with his nipples until he started to squirm. He bit his lip and dragged his hands lower, caressing his inner thighs and spreading his legs at the same time.

He did it again. And again. Running his hands over his inner thighs, his fingers barely brushing the crease of his ass, the sides of his balls. His cock was rock-hard and lying flat against his stomach. Without lube, his first touch was rough. Skin stuck to skin and Damon winced, but it wasn't all bad. Mostly it was overwhelming.

After adding a generous amount of lube, he gripped his cock and stroked it. Long and slow, a moan escaping him. He might be alone in the room, but he wasn't alone in his head. In his head, Nash was there, and Taylor. And he was watching them. Fuck, they were incredible together.

Damon's strokes sped up and he forced himself to slow down or things would be over far too soon. With slick fingers, he explored between his legs, bypassing his aching balls to press a finger into his entrance. Damon was used to bottoming, although he and Nash never had a problem switching things up between them. Damon pressed his finger in deeper, thinking about the difference between his fingers and Nash's. Nash's were more delicate, but strong and skilled and—Damon pulled his finger out of his ass and grabbed the dildo. After adding more lube, he held the silicone tip against his entrance…then slid it all the way in.

It wasn't the seamless, easy glide that Damon had been expecting. It had been a while since he'd taken a toy in his ass and he had to stop to get his breath once it was all the way in. The toy was thicker than Nash—and longer—and it was almost too much for Damon, but the overstuffed feeling made his head swim in the best way.

"Fucking hell," Damon said to no one as he pulled the dildo out and slid it back in, angling it just right to bump and glide against his prostate. Letting his legs fall wider and wider apart, he took his cock in hand as he slid the dildo in and out. He went slower than his body demanded, purposely torturing himself.

Biting his lip, he tilted his head back and jacked himself faster, sliding the palm of his hand over the head of his cock as he changed grip. The noise in his head went pleasantly quiet. His ragged breaths and his moans were the only sounds in his universe. There was nothing but him and the pleasure he was lost in.

Damon eased the cock in as deep as it would go and pressed down, grinding it inside him against all the places that made him light up. His nerves sang as his release built. It came on him like a storm rolling in off the horizon. One moment it was far away and the next, it had barreled over him, shaking the world around him. He trembled under its power as he let loose, jerking hard and fast, streaking his chest with cum.

Damon tugged on the dildo, pulling it almost all the way out before sliding it back in. His ass was sensitive and his cock twitched in an unsexy way when he continued to stroke it, but it just made him hotter. Needier.

After another few torturous strokes, Damon pulled his hand off his dick and let it fall against the inside of his thigh, half-hard still, but not for long. He eased the dildo out of his ass and dropped it onto the mattress next to him. He flung his arms out to the side and let his legs slide back down, straightening them so that he looked like a fucked-out starfish.

Some people meditated to find their center. Damon masturbated. There was something about the act of connecting with himself on a physical level that always helped him feel steadier. He was sure that a therapist would have fun unpacking that with him, but it wasn't a thing he felt he needed to fix. As soon as he could move, maybe he'd text Nash and Taylor and see how their evening was going. Or maybe he'd wait until they reached out to him first.

There was so much to figure out with this poly relationship thing. Sometimes it felt daunting, but at this moment, Damon was too sated to care about much of anything besides cleaning the cum off his chest before it dried. Dry cum itched like a motherfucker.