Two Tanner

Iheard the door open while I was in the shower, and I couldn't help but sigh. First, it was that weird guy that keyed into my room, and now housekeeping was in there for no reason. I'd literally just checked in, and it was almost nine o'clock at night. I didn't need anything.

Turning the hot water off, I stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel around my waist. I didn't even take a moment to dry off. A quick word would get them to leave, and I could go about my night. All I wanted to do was relax after a long day of conversing with people who could barely use their phones, much less understand the complicated nature of the listing system I was working on developing. Realtors, like any other sales business, was made up of frat bros and old men who were far more concerned about their golfing game than anything else. A silver tongue had gotten them everywhere in life, and they saw no need to change it.

"No housekeeping needed," I said, pushing my way out of the bathroom.

I stopped dead in my tracks as my gaze fell on him. That guy from before… he was in my room again. And this time, he was sitting on my bed.

"Um… What are you doing here?"

"You must be Tanner," he sighed, tossing his phone down and pushing himself upright. "You're the son of my dad's friend, right?"

My mouth fell open slightly. I knew Walter Trombley in passing. He'd been around since I was a kid. He and my dad had been good friends for over a decade. It seemed like they were out on the golf course every weekend or flying off to go on some business trip. My dad had mentioned Walter had a son, but that was all I really heard about it. But the man sitting in front of me was not the gangly teenage boy I'd imagined in my head for all those years.

He was a man. And a damn fine one at that. As he stood up from the bed, I noticed he'd changed out of his suit into a pair of running shorts and a tank top. The thin fabric left little to the imagination as he walked toward me. My eyes were inexplicably drawn to his cock as it bounced back and forth between his legs. I gripped my towel a little harder as my own body responded to the view.

"It's nice to meet you," the man said, holding out a hand. "My name's Wyatt."

I looked up, tearing my gaze away from his bulge and up to the rippling muscles of his arms. Reaching out, I saw he had large hands covered in thick veins that ran up his forearms. Everything about him was vascular and masculine. I glanced up at his deep blue eyes and his messy ginger hair, taking it all in. He was gorgeous.

The moment our hands connected, I felt a sort of jolt between us. The hairs on my body stood up, and my stomach did a weird sort of flip. I caught some recognition in his eyes, like he felt it, too. However, the quick shake was over in an instant, and the feeling began to fade just as fast.

It was probably nothing more than static electricity.

"H-Hi," I said at last, doing everything I could to keep his gaze instead of ogling him like a piece of meat. "Nice to meet you, too."

Wyatt shook his head as he pulled his hand back, clearly confused about something. "Well," he said at last. "It looks like my father has been up to his usual cheapskate methods. He called and altered my booking to include you but didn't think to ask them about a room with more than one bed."

I'd read this in smutty romance novels before, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess we could both sleep in it," I replied. "Unless you want to sleep in the tub."

"Ain't no way I'm sleeping in a tub, bro. I'd rather just share a bed." He shook his head. "No, homo."

Bro? No homo? Ugh. There went that fantasy. Anybody who called me bro was definitely not looking for some nerdy twink like me to share a bed with them. Just by looking at him, I could tell he was straight anyway. There was a sort of ingrained confidence he had that I just didn't see in other gay guys. And as for the ‘no homo' part? That was a red flag in my book. He was hot but not worth getting my ass kicked for. Reliving high school wasn't my fantasy.

So much for that sexy Chicago hookup, I was hoping to have.

"I could try to find another place to stay…"

"Nah, don't worry about it, dude. Besides, I already checked with the front desk and with Google. There isn't a single room available in this entire city right now unless you wanna hit a divey motel outside of the city."

"Yeah, that sounds terrible," I replied. "Well, I guess at least it's just for one night."

"Right."

We both stood there for at least twenty seconds, an awkward silence filling the void between us.

"Well, I'm gonna go finish my shower…"

"Cool, bro," Wyatt replied. "I'm gonna order food on the company card since my dad decided to spring this on us. I'll get you on there, too, when you get out."

"Thanks," I smiled, giving him a small wave as I headed back to the bathroom. "I won't be long."

I hopped back in the shower, letting my thoughts overtake me as I soared up. At least the guy wasn't a total prick. He seemed less like a bully and more of an actual nice guy. But that only made my mind wander further. I couldn't help wondering if he was the kind of guy who was straight as an arrow or the ‘bros help other bros out' type. The latter had my dick hard as I tried to soap up. I couldn't help reaching down and giving my throbbing cock a squeeze.

A small moan escaped my lips as images flooded through my mind. Judging by Wyatt's gym shorts, he was decently hung. Not to mention, I'd had a hard time tearing my eyes away from all those bulging muscles of his. It wasn't uncommon to see fit realtors. They knew that good looks got them clients and helped make the sale. It had been proven time and time again. Even so, Wyatt was a rather exquisite example. I couldn't help the stroking motion that began, my fist pumping over my soapy cock.

"No," I hissed through gritted teeth, forcing my hand away. "That's only going to make tonight all the more awkward. Just jerk off when you get home."

With a sigh, I forced myself to rinse off, turning the water to cold at the last minute to get my raging hard-on to go away. It worked. Mostly. Even after I dried off and pulled on my clothes, I had a hard time forcing my chub into my underwear. I'd chosen a tight pair on purpose in a vain attempt to keep it at bay.

That thing had a mind of its own sometimes.

Eventually, I made my way back out into the hotel room, only to find Wyatt with his hands buried in my suitcase. I felt my skin prickle almost immediately. There was definitely a butt plug packed between my socks, along with a bottle of lube. I usually wore it during these boring conferences just to spice things up, but I hadn't had a chance to slip it in yet. And, of course, that's right where his hands were.

"Uh… Did you lose something?" I asked, anxiety spreading across my skin.

"Fuck!" he cried, nearly jumping out of his skin. He backed away from the bag, his face turning beet red in an instant. "S-Sorry, bro," he stuttered. "I… I was trying to see what kind of cologne you're wearing. I had an ex-girlfriend who had a similar one, and curiosity got the better of me." He reached up, scratching the back of his head. "I shoulda just waited. Sorry, dude."

"It's okay…" I stepped up to the edge of the bed and glanced down, my butt plug on full display. My cheeks flushed as I flipped it closed. "I'm not sure what you're smelling, but I don't wear cologne."

He nodded. "Oh. Maybe it's body wash or something."

"Maybe…"

I couldn't help a quick glance down. Why the fuck were his shorts tented?! As I looked back up, I realized he was staring straight at me. Caught.

"So… uh… food?"

"Right, right," he said, flopping down on the bed and throwing a pillow over his crotch.

He was just as aware of his problem as I was.

"What do you like?"

"Anything Asian."

"Sounds good to me."

I plopped down in the cuck chair at the end of the bed and crossed my legs. "Orange chicken for me."

"You got it, bro."

Ugh. I did not understand what was going on with this guy. But I had a feeling sleeping in the same bed with him was going to be a very awkward experience. I glanced around the room, desperate for any other place to bed down for the night. However, the room was fairly small, and unless I wanted to sleep in the cuck chair or the tub, the bed was the only option. Forget sleeping on the floor. I wouldn't have done that at home, much less a hotel that greasy people were coming in and out of all day long. I knew what went on in these places.

Nope. The bed was the only choice, and I wasn't looking forward to it.