Chapter 13

Thirteen

Ezra

I t's like a fucking geyser. Cum all over my chest, up on my neck.

Miller gives me this shocked, open-mouthed grin, and all I have the energy to do is gape at him. Then he's moving off me, kissing my cheek. He's in the bathroom and he's back with towels.

"That was basically the hottest thing I've ever seen,” Mills says. “All I need is a video, and I can watch it till the end of time and then die happy.”

I laugh as he wipes my chest clean.

"Did I do that before?" I rasp.

"Nope. I never went in before."

Something about that makes my chest clench, but I nod like it's no big deal.

"That was hot as fuck, dude,” Mills says.

"It felt good as fuck, too. Better than fuck," I laugh.

"Right? It's so good."

"So...are we both bottoms?"

"I don't know,” Miller says, looking thoughtful. “You topped me last time. But we didn't do it much. You feel like you wanna be the bottom now? Cause I can top you. I think I'm vers."

"Good, because I liked your idea.” My throat is tight, so the words sound hoarse.

Miller gives me a grin. "God. I'm already gonna cum myself from what you just did here." He reaches down and cups his boner. "Let's get in the shower. You can sit down if you're spent from that big O, and I'll scrub-n-bubbles you. Then we can play with each other and watch TV. And when you're hard again, I'll fill you up with that fake purple pipe."

Mills gives me this posed smile with one hand under his chin. "So what do you think? It's a plan?"

"Yeah, except you got one part wrong." I move the towel off me, showing him my hard-on.

"Fuck. That's fast, man."

"Yeah, because I'm looking at you,” I say. “You’re an aphrodisiac."

Miller snickers into his hand. Then he leans back down and licks my shaft, which makes me shiver cause I just came.

"Fuck. My head's gonna explode tonight,” I whisper.

"Both of them." He’s grinning as he helps me up. On the short walk into the bathroom, he swings his dick against mine, and we're sword fighting, and my knees feel weak from how much I want him. Again.

I turn on the water for us, getting in first to get the temp just right. He steps in behind me, rubbing his cock against my flank.

"Who was the instigator last time?” I ask over my shoulder. “You said me, right? But in a twisted, asshole way?"

He prods my crack with his dick. " Such asshole."

I turn around. "Don't make jokes, Miller. I was an asshole? Did I like...force you?" My voice goes hoarse on those words. After what I went through—

"Nah. You didn't force me. You were a little rough sometimes. You were good with your hands though, Ez. Everything you did felt good."

"Yeah, but did it make you feel bad?"

He gives me sort of an eye roll. "It was just games. I knew I could make you come around, and look how well I did, yeah? Got myself marked on your arm. Tattooed on your chest." He somehow manages to affect this arrogant look, with one dark curl hanging over his forehead and his blue eyes boring right into mine. His hand comes to my chest, folding over my pec. "We're gravy, angel. But my dick’s aching thinking about stuffing that plug into your hole. Thinking of you sore at practice." He tips his head back, squeezing his dick, and I can't resist biting his throat.

The shower is short-lived, and then the two of us are diving into bed. Someone down the hall shouts, and there's laughter.

"Shit, it's like a hotel in here,” Mills says.

"Pretty much. With more sweat."

"How does this place not smell like a locker room?"

I give Josh a no-shit look, popping one eyebrow up. "Because I bathe. And wear deodorant."

"I guess your room in Fairplay was always pretty neat and stuff,” he muses.

"Was it? What was it like?"

Mills pulls up some pictures. I turn on my side to face him better, running a fingertip under his eye. "I like the room," I tell him. "Did you pick the stuff out for me?"

He laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"Just you saying you like it,” he says. “Are you sure you're not a clone imposter or something?"

"I didn't like it before?” My stomach slow rolls. “Did I actually say that?"

"Uh, yeah. You gave me shit about a lot of stuff in the room. "

"I did?" Fuck . I know I was pretty fucked up, but I remain disappointed that I was such a dick to Miller. Every day, it's more and more clear that he's the nicest guy in the world.

I look at the picture again. "I like the art over the bed. And what about that football pillow?" I ask as my heart starts to pound.

"Yes, that’s a crocheted football pillow. Which I made. I tried to pass it off as my mom's, and it's true it was her idea. But she got busy, and I finished it for you. You thought that was pretty funny. Ragged me."

My eyes well up as I blink down at his phone’s screen. "Guess I was pretty fucking full of shit, because I can crochet." I laugh.

“You can?” He frowns, looking confused.

"Learned it at Sheppard Pratt my first stay. Sometimes they'll let you knit and crochet. See over there, on the second-to-last shelf on that book case? Gray yarn for a scarf. I was thinking if I got the nerve up to meet you, I'd give it to you."

"Really?"

"Really, Millsy. You know what else really?"

“What?” he whispers.

“I brought that pillow with me. In fact—” I get up off the bed, and open my nightstand drawer. “I have it right here.”

“I think you liked it in the end,” he tells me.

“I saw it in my room at Mom’s. When I went back up there to get my Jeep, the pillow was one of the only things I grabbed.” I hug the thing to my chest, sitting back on the bed. “So…you made this for me?”

“I did.” He smiles softly.

“You’re artistic.”

He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

"What, did I insult your art, too? You wanna sprinkle holy water on me and we'll do an exorcism?"

Miller laughs. "You said the art was good. But you snooped without asking, and I didn’t like that. At the time,” he adds with a smirk.

"Fuck."

"It's okay."

"I don’t know about that. Sounds like I'm a plague and you were just this normal guy, and—"

Mills puts his finger over my lips. "I was just a normal guy. This gay guy in the closet, biding time till college. No one I knew ever had a hardship really. It was Mayberry, and I was...stupid." His face twists, and he bites his lip. "I was just a kid, Ezra. Meeting you changed my whole world. You made me hurt in a way I never knew I could, but I had never, ever felt the way I felt about you.”

"And when I left, it shredded you,” I whisper.

"Does that make you want to end things again?" Mills rasps.

"Hell no. I spent months in fucking… anguish , not knowing if what I felt was real. You think I would trade that in because it makes me feel some guilt? So what? I can handle feeling regret."

"You were just…so different last time,” he says.

"The only thing that I remember from before I went down there was how much I wanted to be dead. I was on all these pills. Heavy shit, Mills. That I didn't even need. My mom sent me off to Sheppard Pratt to make herself feel better. Let them tell her there was something wrong with me that wasn’t caused by Alton. By the time you and I met, I wasn't normal."

“Remember, I saw them—the pills,” Mills says softly. “I didn't know about pills at that time, but I was worried for you. I just wanted whatever was good for you."

"I still think I don’t deserve you." I blow out a long breath.

“I’m not that special, but you do deserve me.” He looks so cute in the lamplight with his freckles.

I tackle hug him, knocking him back on my bed, and Miller laughs.

I'm on top of him. I lean down and rub my scratchy cheek against his, and he runs his hand into my hair. “You deserve all good things. And nothing that happened to you. The fact that any of it did—I want to hurt your mother.” His eyes widen. “Sorry I said that.”

"It's fucked up," I rasp, “but I like that you feel that way. I guess I want someone to care," I manage.

"Of course you do." Miller wraps his arms around me. "Somebody should care. A whole lot of somebodies should care a whole fucking lot. People should get sent to prison. Lots of people."

"Me," I choke out.

"No. Not you, my angel. You should go to therapy and crawl in bed with me as many nights as you can. And eat good food and do things that you like, and live. Because that's what you deserve. You deserve to live and to be happy. Nothing that happened was your fault. Programs like Alton are fucked up, and what happened to you specifically? That guy went psycho. You were a victim. You were locked up, people hurt you.”

Josh hugs me so hard. A few tears roll down my cheeks, dripping on his collarbone. "I'm not upset," I whisper-rasp. I take a deep breath. "I just never really talk about it. And for you to say that stuff." I rub my face against his shoulder.

"I'm your number one fan, Ez. I'm there for the kickoff, for the overtime. The locker room, your Jeep after the game to blow you. And I'm in your dorm room bed…popping a boner every time you move or breathe on my neck."

He makes me laugh. I don't know how, but Josh Miller, frat boy, party boy, small-town boy, blue eyes with the freckles, makes me laugh with no effort. Makes me pop a boner too, and makes me want to kiss him.

So I kiss him. We beard-burn each other, rubbing our damn cheeks together like a couple of horny cats. Mills ends up propped over me, rubbing his dick against mine. I flip us so I’m on top and crawl between his knees, pushing cool lube into his hole, sucking on his dick like it's a lollipop and teasing his low-hanging balls. He leans up on his elbow, looking amused.

"I can't believe you're letting me forget what you need, Ez.” He widens his glazed eyes. “Do you want that plug in while we fuck?"he asks me hoarsely.

"Do I want it?" I laugh, feeling my ears redden. "I don't know. It's your idea. But I can take it."

"Hell yes, you can. You’re gonna like it, too. Lie down, Ez. Let me stuff you full of something that'll drive you wild while you fuck me.”

Miller spreads my knees and lubes the plug and holds my balls up against the base of my cock as he works the thing into me.

I can't even speak, can only make a sound like uff , as he pushes it in.

“How’s that feel?”

"It feels good." I'm going for unaffected, but it comes out a harsh groan.

"You think you can fuck me with it in you?"

I lie there feeling my balls heavy and my dick hard and thick, and getting thicker as he smears lube on his hand and slicks it over my cock.

"Is this too much?” he asks. “Too sensitive?"

"No," I moan.

He coats me with more of it. "You sure, angel? You can tell me." He gets on his hands and knees and reaches behind his balls to touch his own hole.

"Might…come too soon," I manage.

"Don't come yet. Hold it off. I'm gonna do something you'll love." He waggles his brows, which looks hilarious with him clutching his big, veiny cock. Then he straddles my abs, facing my legs. I squeeze his slicked-up cheeks, wanting to fucking come from all the perfect pressure inside of me plus the sight of Miller on his knees.

When he takes my dick in his hands, pointing it straight up, and gets in a position like he’s gonna sit on it, my balls give a warm throb.

"God, Mills." I'm already so hot from the plug, I feel like I might come just from this view—my dick pressed against his sweet peach.

"Can you hold your shaft steady?" His voice shakes as he spreads his cheeks. I reach under him to grip my dick.

“I gotchu,” I whisper.

I position my tip against him, gritting my teeth at how bad I need to come already. Mills makes a hoarse sound, and then he starts to sink down on me. I can feel his hole squeeze warm and tight around my tip first. He lets a rough breath out, and I can feel his legs quake. He grunts softly then moans, taking more of me in.

God, it feels so fucking good to have him sit on my cock. The tight, hot squeeze of him around my cock plus the pressure in my backdoor have me moaning.

"You okay?" he murmurs.

"Oh yeah." I bend my legs and straighten them, my hand reaching over his thigh to grasp at his dick. It must be pointed straight up, because I can only feel his balls. I stroke his sac, and Miller shudders. Then he sinks down slowly lower, really taking my length, and it feels so good I’m moaning again.

His hand cups my balls, rolling and then tugging. His hand goes to the plug's base, and I feel him push it gently.

It's like lighting through me. My dick throbs inside him, which makes Miller grunt and tremble on me. I rock my hips, and he groans.

"Fuck, did that hurt?"

"No," he moans, squeezing tighter around me. "I'm gonna—"

His hand rubs my balls, and I can feel him stroking his cock. "Oh God."

I lean up so I can tease his balls, finding them drawn up taut. Then I start to rock a little, pushing my cock deeper in him, grabbing his hips, lifting him up and off me. He holds there for a second, his knees trembling, before plunging back down on me.

“Fuck!”

“Oh God…”

We find a rhythm. Mills is sweating, grunting, and I’m shaking from the mind-fuck-level bliss of having something in my hole while feeling his hole stretched around my cock. From knowing that it’s Miller taking me inside him.

He starts rolling my balls, playing more with himself. He's riding me quicker, with a little more force. Every time he sinks down all the way on me, he barks a groan, and I grab for his dick, my fingertips just barely brushing it.

Then he taps the plug again. My cock throbs; fierce pleasure spills all through me. I try to hold back, not sure if he's ready, but he pushes the plug with his palm and I come so hard I yell out as my cock pumps deep into him and his hole spasms around me.

I can feel his muscles quaking as he comes—his warm jizz raining down on my balls.Makes me shiver.

We're both moaning and then laughing as he tries to keep from falling on me. I put my palm on his damp lower back.

"You okay, my Miller?"

"Fuck, I'm gonna die by coming." He tries to get off me, laughing as his legs tremble, and I say, "You could stay here if you wanted."

He caresses my hip. Then he's rising slowly up and off. He turns around to face me, looking wide-eyed, like he's nervous, and I laugh, and he laughs, looking flushed and so cute.

"Well, we did that," he tells me, his blue eyes wide.

" You did that, Mills. I just laid here and got fucked."