For the fans, p.22
For The Fans, page 22
Then his eyes lock on mine. Bringing my cup to my lips, I use it to distract myself and try to remain indifferent. But I can’t seem to break the staring contest. And now Lexi is licking his ear… sucking on his earlobe.
Like he did to me. In secret.
My eyebrow quirks at him, the subtlest of unintentional smirks gracing my lips. And his eyes fill with visible rage. He grabs Lexi by the face and kisses her, rough and deep. Almost aggressively, making out with the blonde bimbo like he’s digging for gold in her mouth with his tongue.
I mean, really… does he even want to kiss her?? What is he trying to accomplish right now??
I keep watching him, and his eyes creep open, settling on mine once more while his lips move audaciously with Lexi’s.
Okay… dramatic much?
We get it, you like girls. Who doesn’t??
I’m getting sort of fed up with this party, and the anxiety this whole stupid experience seems to be breeding inside me for no fucking reason. Turning away, I spot Bea on Theo’s shoulders while he gallops around the room like a horse. Weaving through the bodies, I stagger over to them.
“Babe, I might take off…” I tell Bea as she rips a shot from a bottle of Fireball.
“No! Don’t leave yet!” she whines.
“Yea, bro!” Theo slurs. “It’s so early.”
“It’s really not that early…” I mutter, pulling a joint and my lighter from my shirt pocket.
“Oooh, good idea!” Bea hops off Theo’s back. “Let’s toke toke.” She turns and bats her eyelashes at him. “Can we please smoke in your bathroom, sex muffin?”
Theo looks like he wants to protest, but Bea’s really laying it on thick, dragging her nails over his abs through his shirt.
He purses his lips. “Fine. But blow the smoke into some toilet paper or something.” Bea squeals and kisses his cheek, grabbing me by the arm. “And use a shit-ton of Febreze!”
“This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy!” I call out to him and wink as Bea drags me toward the bathroom.
“Excuse me, thank youuu,” she hums, throwing herself in front of people who were waiting for the bathroom, shoving me inside and closing the door behind us.
Laughing, I light up the joint, pulling in a long drag before handing it to her.
I grab an empty toilet paper roll and stuff it with toilet paper for a makeshift vaporizer, blowing the smoke into it while Bea showers us in Febreze.
“Isn’t Theo so fucking hot??” She spins in circles.
I try to scoff, but it comes out more like an actual laugh. “How would I know…”
“Avi, come on,” she mumbles, waving away the excess smoke. “We both know you’re dabbling in dudes.”
I freeze. “Says who…?”
“Says me.” She grins, and I relax a little. “And you. Because you told me and Frankie you thought that guy in the movie we watched the other day was sexy.”
My brows zip together while I struggle to recall what she’s talking about. Man, I really need to stop talking to people when I’m drunk and high…
“Oh, you mean Tangerine from Bullet Train??” She giggles and nods. “Objectively. I said objectively… I liked his accent.” I swallow. “And his mustache…”
Bea pouts and pinches my cheeks. “You’re so stinkin’ cute.”
“Get off me.” I brush her away while she laughs.
“Hey, you know me.” She plucks the joint from between my fingers. “I don’t discriminate against genitalia.” She beams, and I cackle. “As long as someone’s hot, I’ll be a THOT!”
We’re both laughing like idiots as she twerks in front of me chanting, “THOT THOT THOT.” Until suddenly the door is swinging open, and we’re met with the perpetual scowl of my super-fun stepbrother.
“Can you not fucking fishbowl the bathroom??” he growls, only at me. Not Bea.
Just me. It’s always my fault.
“Don’t be a party pooper, bro.” I giggle while Bea covers her mouth to hold in the laughter. “Take a hit of this sweet gange.” I hold up the joint and he smacks it out of my hand, stomping it out on the floor. “Yo, not cool.” I frown. “Party foul.”
“What the fuck are you doing in here??” He keeps coming at me with his signature brand of hostility, and I back up.
“Partying.” I wink at Bea, who bites her lip.
Kyran’s angry eyes flit between the two of us. “Are you two hooking up?”
“What?!” I snort.
He steps into the room, crowding me with his fists clenched. “Well… are you? Because my friend likes this girl, and I think it would be pretty fucked up if you were in here trying to steal her.”
“Okay, you sound mucho loco right now.” I chuckle at him. “I mean, yes, we’ve hooked up a little before, but we’re not—”
“Bea, please back away,” Kyran seethes with his glare stuck on me. “I’m gonna waste this loser and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Kyran, nothing was happening,” Bea sighs, still laughing a little, although Kyran is clearly not amused, and I’m sort of starting to worry myself that he’s about to hit me.
“You need to leave,” Kyran says to me with his eyes narrowed and his jaw ticking. “I’ve had enough of your stoner bullshit.”
I peek at Bea, who’s finally starting to look a little concerned. And because I want zero drama, especially within the football player crowd, I shoot her a forced smirk.
“Bea, it’s okay.” I wave a hand at her. “Everything’s fine. Stepbro just needs a minute to cool off.”
She blinks at me while Kyran is backing me up against the sink. “Are you sure?”
I nod fast. “Totally. Go get us some drinks. I’ll be right there.”
Bea shrugs and flits away, closing the door behind her. Leaving me with the snarling beast of suffocatingly wound frustration also known as my stepbrother.
“I literally want to kill you,” he hisses in my face. I place a hand on his chest to keep him back, and he smacks it away. “Seriously… Just seeing your fucking face makes me want to bash it in.”
“Don’t do that,” I mumble with my heart pounding louder than the thumping bass of the music.
“Why not? I want to…” Kyran grabs me by the throat as his body wedges mine between him and the sink. “Why shouldn’t I get what I want??”
He’s pressing into me so hard, my ass is resting on the counter while my upper back connects with the mirror behind me. Attempting to shift away from his rage, I move left. But he slams me against the wall, the wide plane of his chest moving up and down with heavy breaths.
“You’re acting like a fucking crazy person, Kyran.” I stand my ground, hands on his chest trying to shove him away. “Just because we—”
“Not another fucking word about that!” he barks. Both of our jagged breathing frames his voice, ringing through the confined space.
“We haven’t spoken a word about it yet!” I snap. “You’re the one being a psycho. Why? Because you liked it?? No one fucking cares!”
Kyran presses himself into me, and I’m sweating all over. His body is a million degrees. Probably because he’s about to Hulk himself out of his clothes, but it also seems like the heat is happening because of how close we are.
And how our dicks are touching…
“I hate you.” His voice reverberates into me.
With my hands on his chest, I feel how fast his heart is racing. It causes me to swallow, which he must feel since he’s currently holding my throat like he’s about to choke me to death. His eyes briefly drop to where his hand is, then glide their way up slowly over my lips, back to my eyes. His pupils dilate.
Okay… what’s going on?
Why is it so hot in here??
Something weird happens to my hands… They lightly grip his chest, my fingers curling around the material of his shirt. He gulps visibly, and his breathing shallows.
“Why do you hate me, Ky…?” I ask on a hoarse whisper.
“Because,” he growls, still plastering me to the wall with his body.
“Because why?”
I tug him by his shirt, and he comes with my pull, inching closer, lips hovering over mine until I can taste the fruity booze on his breath.
“Because…” He gulps again, glittering green and gold falling curiously once more to my mouth. “Because you’re… you’re…”
“You don’t know why, do you?” My back arches, and our chests bump, bodies sealing together.
He doesn’t look anywhere near as angry anymore. It’s still there, but more than anything, now he’s a baffled, helpless shivering frame. I don’t know what the hell is going on between us, but every single muscle in my body is bunched up and my blood is rushing in my ears.
There’s some force holding us together, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to fight it. Maybe neither is he…
So against all rational thinking, my lips brush over his. I don’t even think I did it… Why would I do that? It’s suicide. But it happened, and it prompts a little noise from within Kyran’s throat.
“Avi…” He says my name on a trembly breath. “Don’t…”
My head is clouded up with lust as I whisper, “Don’t say don’t when you really mean do…” And my lips part over his.
The way the plump bottom one fits snugly in between mine… like a perfect, plush puzzle piece. I can’t even help but give it a gentle, hesitant suck. You know… since it’s right there. And he purrs.
He fucking purrs. The hot, grouchy blonde.
My stepbrother.
That noise, Jesus Christ…
My dick jumps as Kyran’s grip around my throat loosens, his hand timidly falling down to rest on my chest while mine use his shirt to haul him in closer. And kiss him, just a little more…
Because I can’t not.
The literal second it becomes apparent that we’re actually kissing, it turns feral. Zero to a hundred. In the blink of an eye, our lips are no longer softly grazing, they’re ravenously attacking. Sucking hard, parting wider so our tongues can play. It’s fucking vicious and greedy and oh-so hot.
Kyran groans quietly and I groan back, my fingers releasing his shirt to slide up into his hair. He presses me into the wall harder, but I press back, fighting him for control, which he seems to give up easily for me, slipping under the spell of these intoxicating kisses.
I bite his lip and he whines, squeezing my chest, touching me with twitching fingers as the sounds of wet suction fill the small room.
“Close the door,” he whimpers while we maul each other’s mouths.
“It is closed,” I grunt, one hand sliding down his back while the other holds his jaw.
It’s so sharp and chiseled, feeling it move while he kisses me has my cock stiff as a pole, jammed in between our bodies. I yank his lower back to feel… and yea, he’s hard too. So, so hard.
God-fucking-damn, why does his dick feel so good??
“Lock it,” he demands, sliding his tongue into my mouth to pet mine. “The door, Avi… Please lock it.”
Fuck… his tongue. I really like his tongue in my mouth…
This is so bad.
Reaching behind him, I manage to lock the door, my hand immediately coming back to him, gripping his ass and kneading it hard in my fingers until he mewls.
“Is it locked??” he breathes in between wild, fevered kisses.
“Yes, Kyran, it’s fucking locked,” I grumble at his control-freakishness, tugging his hair in my fist and sucking hard enough to bruise his annoying mouth.
“Then barricade it,” he whines, shuddering against me.
I chuckle into his mouth. “With what?”
“I don’t care, just do it,” he croaks, rumbly, pleading desperation in his tone. “No one can find out about this. No one, Avi, do you fucking hear me??”
I nod while licking his lip and pulling it between my teeth. “Yes, baby, I hear you.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” he hisses, and I shove him against the door.
“Sorry… I thought you were someone else,” I tease, biting him until he purrs again. My cock is fucking pulsing this is so good. “Use your big, sexy body to block the door.”
“Shut up,” he growls. “This changes nothing. I still hate you…”
“Mhm.” I nod, fiercely grinding my cock against his through our pants.
“And this is still just for the money…”
“But we’re not recording.” I brush my palm over his nipple through his shirt. He whines, and I swear to God, I’m falling apart right now.
“Then fucking record,” he pants, trailing a hand down my front, eager fingers playing with the buttons on my shirt.
I don’t think I need to record right now, a thought that brings a sliver of awareness to my mind. I have no idea what we’re doing, but I’m certain it has nothing to do with the fans.
Still, I need to use my head here; keep us in line, and most importantly, keep Kyran from freaking out. If he wants to record, then we record.
And I won’t say the idea of capturing this surreal moment isn’t an alluring one.
So I pull my phone out of my pocket, attempting to kiss him while opening up my camera. I press record and hold the phone up as best I can as we devour one another’s lips like they’re some sort of insanely delicious snack. Writhing our bodies together, I rub my erection on his, feeling it rock-hard and throbbing through his jeans.
“That feel good?” I whisper, sucking possessively on his lower lip.
He nods and whines, “Yea… Yes. It feels… really good.”
“What about if I kiss you here?” My mouth trails down his jaw, onto his throat, tongue peeking out to swipe his Adam’s apple. It bobs, and I bite it, to which he rumbles a sweet, choked sound. “Shh… Quiet, beautiful.”
“No pet names,” he snarls, though his hands are now on my ass and he’s holding me to him, helping my hips thrust into his. “I’m not your boyfriend.”
“Yea, no shit. You’re not my type,” I murmur, using my free hand to reach up underneath his shirt and feel his smooth, warm skin. “This is for the fans, right?”
He nods again. “For the fans.” Moaning softly, he whispers, “Suck on my ear.”
A slightly triumphant smirk tugs at my lips while I move them up to his ear. “Say please.”
“Please,” he begs through gritted teeth, like he wishes he didn’t have to submit to me, but it feels too good for him to care all the way.
Flicking his lobe with my tongue, I suck it between my lips, toying with him until he’s trembling and squirming.
“Do I do it better than her…?” My hips ripple into his, both of our dicks straining against our pants, all thick and solid and aching for more contact.
“Fuck off… Avi.” He gasps my name, head tipped back on the door. “Mmm… ohhfuck…”
He’s tightening all over, and I feel like it means he might come, which draws my balls up so tight they’re about to rupture. Moving my mouth back to his, I kiss him rough, rubbing our cocks together with so much friction it’s like we’re trying to start a fire.
“You feel so fucking good…” I tell him, and he whimpers.
“I don’t wanna come in my pants…” he whines hoarsely, but I can tell part of him doesn’t care. Just like the bigger, more insistent part of me doesn’t care one bit if I coat the inside of my Calvins with cum right now.
Still, I hum onto his lips, “You want me to take it out?” He nods fast while my hand falls to his cock between us. “You want me to catch your hot load in my mouth?”
“Ffuck… Avi…” He fingers dig into me through my clothes.
“I think it’s too late.” I suck the words onto his puffy lips. “Come for me, baby.”
“I’m not your—fuuuck. Fuck yes, oh God, Avi, I’m coming.”
Kyran’s body shudders, his hands flying up into my hair to hold me in place while he cries quietly into my mouth. My hand squeezes and grips his big dick though his pants, stroking out his orgasm while I grind my own into his hip.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come in my pants for you, Ky…” Before the words even flee my lips into his, pulses of cum are shooting all over the inside of my boxers, drenching my pelvis in slickness.
“What… the fuck…” Kyran crumples between me and the door, holding up his body weight by clutching onto me while we both quiver and suck all the air out of the small room.
We’re just standing, more like leaning, on each other, and the door, for many generous seconds, catching our breath and coming down from the withering high of what just happened.
What the fuck did just happen??
We made out and dry-humped each other silly, that’s what happened.
Kyran’s hands slide off of me, and he tries to stand up straight, wobbling as he does. I straighten myself and pull away, but not without first pressing a soft kiss on his bottom lip.
And when I stand back, he looks shocked, severely rumpled, sated, and horrified.
Mostly good things, I suppose.
Ending the recording on my phone—I’m not even sure what I just recorded—I can’t help but smirk to myself. I knew he came in his pants that night because of me. I win.
“That was…” he starts.
And I blurt out, “Awesome?”
“Idiotic,” he corrects me, pushing his hair back with his fingers and going for some toilet paper.
“Baby wipes.” I nod at the basket by the sink, and he grabs them.
“Good looks.”
He uses them to try to clean himself up inside his pants, while I do the same, my thoughts speeding through everything that just went down in this bathroom.
What an amazing shitshow…
“How the fuck are we going to get out of here without anyone seeing us both leave?” he rasps, rubbing his eyes in front of the mirror.
He looks stressed. And so soon after such a killer orgasm. It puts a damper on my own mood, because I don’t want him to be nervous, or afraid.
“Everyone’s drunk. I guarantee they won’t notice,” I tell him, and he peers at me. “But you can leave first. I’ll wait a few minutes, then sneak out. Trust me, no one pays attention to me at these parties. I’m, like, invisible.”
