Straight Up (The Brazen Boys) by Daryl Banner

Author:Daryl Banner [Banner, Daryl]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Frozenfyre Publishing
Published: 2015-07-28T00:00:00+00:00

[ 7 ]

I can’t sleep.

I close my eyes and dream Trent is trying to dance with me, pushing his hips into mine and gripping me the way he grips the girls. Stop, I try to tell him, shoving him off, knowing he’s fucking with me. He drunk.

Stop.

Then, his mouth lunges for my face. He’s trying to kiss me and I shove at him, but can’t push him away far enough. Stop trying to kiss me, the dream-version of me says while the dream-version of him keeps reaching.

He laughs drunkenly in my face. I even feel the heat of his breath as if it’s there. He grips me harder, suddenly having all the power and strength of the world in those hands of his.

He always had that power.

Even in my dreams.

It doesn’t matter what I do. I push his shoulders, his mouth seems to grow closer. I push his hips, they grind me harder. Harder. That’s the key word: harder. My cock grows and grows, and it isn’t wholly pleasurable.

I’ve never hated a boner more than I have tonight. Every tossing and turning in the bed runs my hard-on along the sheets, stimulating it worse, tickling it, sending shivers up my spine that I resent.

Stop doing this to me.

He never stops.

Then, when the struggle is almost too much to bear, I turn and find him just staring at me, almost hurt. He asks me something, his lips moving, and I don’t understand. What? He asks again, but I still don’t hear him.

Does he really want to kiss me? Have I had it wrong all along?

The rhythm of the music is a heartbeat. The walls bend inward with each beat, synchronized. It scares me. My heart races.

What are you trying to say, Trent?

His mouth grows closer.

Does he really want to kiss me?

When I open my mouth to finally accept his, he shoves a sock in it.

I wake up in the darkness of my room, alone, and Trent isn’t there, neither the real one nor the imaginary. I stare down my body, my sheets forming a huge teepee with my boner pointing at the ceiling fan.

“I’ve had worse dreams,” I say out loud, miserably.

Deciding I can’t sleep at all, I drag myself out of the room in just boxers and gym shorts and a white tank. The subtle titter of voices on the TV draws my attention, surprising me. Trent’s still awake? I come to the living room and find Trent leaning back in the middle of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and the remote hanging in his left hand.

He’s asleep.

I listen to the calm ins and outs of his breath. His eyes closed, his lips slightly open, he looks so … adorable. I envy his peace. I can’t remember the last time I fell asleep at his side while on the couch.

I miss that so much.

I’ve wanted nothing but to fall asleep with him, curled up, his arms draped across me carelessly. Maybe when we’re asleep, he’ll

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